Ch.30: The Sleeping Dragon
March 12, 1999
Despite their best efforts, they did not meet up as planned.
They opted it was for the best since, as Draco so bluntly put it, there was hardly a reason to celebrate.
The game itself had been a spectacle to behold. Many claimed it was one of more exciting games Hufflepuff had put out in decades. As always, Slytherin proved to be a fierce competitor and without any hindrances, both teams were able to keep the match tied for majority of the duration.
Which meant it all came down to the seeker.
Both spotted the Snitch at once, and it was narrowed down to who was willing to go hurling towards the ground at a high velocity in favor of earning a win for their team.
One ended up in the hospital wing with a few broken limbs and a victorious smile. The other walked off without a scratch, save for his wounded pride.
Wanting to give him space, Hermione gave him a free pass the first few nights where he fought off any and all company. In the days following, he ignored her written messages. Now that it'd been over a week, she figured it was time to intervene.
Blaise mentioned that practices had been rough as of late. They'd made tentative plans to go to the Three Broomsticks, per Hermione's suggestion. She'd asked Theo to relay the message to Draco since he wasn't responding through their journal. Noticing the slump in her shoulders, Theo tossed her a look of sympathy.
He's always been difficult, he'd told her. He'll come around eventually.
Except Hermione wasn't disheartened in the slightest. Instead, she'd spent the week building up the confidence to pull off an elaborate plot. One that involved getting her stubborn wizard's head out of his arse.
They all agreed to meet in the library before heading to the Three Broomsticks as the majority had elected to study while waiting for Quidditch practice to end. Chances were slim as it had a tendency to run an hour or two over like it had been every day this week. Having just parted ways with Hermione in the Gryffindor common room, Ginny was the last to arrive.
"Good, you're finally here," Theo said, notably relieved. "If I keep having to hear him whine about needing to drown his pain in liquor, I will lose it." He gestured over to Blaise who was still in his muddied practice gear and having his sore shoulders tended to.
"Oi, I can still hear you," Blaise snipped in the background but Theo ignored him.
"Where's Granger?" Ginny scoffed in response, feigning annoyance.
"She's elected to stay behind and study for the rest of the evening."
"What? It's Friday ni—ow! Easy there, Lena," Blaise winced when Elena passed over a pressure point. Instantly, she dropped her focus and muttered a quick apology before flourishing her wand once more over the area. This time, more delicately. "I can't believe this. It was her idea and she's turning down butterbeer. Who even is she?"
"We do have an Arithmancy test coming up," Theo said, matter-of-factly, recalling the moans of detest when their professor reminded them this morning.
"Bollocks," Blaise groaned as he stood.
"Maybe we could bring some back for her?" Elena offered, glancing sympathetically while he rubbed the spot she'd been tending to on his neck.
"She kind of gets into it before an exam. Sounded like she wanted to be left alone tonight," Ginny quickly dismissed. "Speaking of which, where's the brooding prince?"
"I reckon he's still at the pitch. Edwards was harder on him today," Blaise answered. "Rain didn't help either."
Still, she looked around for him. "So, are we waiting on him?"
"Not unless you want to get there when the pub's closed." Blaise grimaced as Elena and Ginny came to either side of him, supporting his weight by holding his middle as he stood.
"He has a point," Theo added tirelessly. "We should go on."
"Besides, with everyone else gone, maybe him and Granger can finally sort out their revolting, obvious attraction to each other."
Ginny snorted, letting out a laugh of disbelief. "Right. You try getting Hermione to not study aimlessly for a test."
"If she'd give him a chance, she wouldn't need to study so hard."
"Shouldn't you be more concerned that your best mate is out there dragging himself through the literal mud rather than his capabilities in bed?" Elena added, rolling her eyes.
Blaise shrugged. "I only have my friends' best interests in mind," he stated. "I know for a fact sex is a fantastic way to blow off steam."
"Not everyone thinks with their cock, Blaise," Ginny shot back.
"Have you met this one?" Theo snickered.
"Not that this isn't an enlightening conversation to have in the middle of the library," Elena feigned a sweet tone under her breath, glaring pointedly at the three of them, "—but we really should get going." Both she and Ginny stayed by his side with Theo leading the way as they exited, ignoring the stares they were receiving from their peers. But that didn't falter the ongoing bickering amongst them.
"I know you've thought about it, Weasley. Don't pretend otherwise," Blaise hissed as they took their leave.
"Never said I didn't," Ginny quipped. "But even if your fantasy does come true, you think the ferret can keep her satisfied?"
Blaise flashed her a knowing grin.
"Two words, Weasley; one round."
She blinked, bemused.
"He'll need more stamina than that—"
"One round," he repeated, "is all he'll need," Blaise stated matter-of-factly. "If they ever come to their senses and let themselves indulge for once, I bet on my mum's fifth husband your Golden Girl won't want anyone else ever again."
Meanwhile, at another part of the castle, an irate blond wizard burst through a large set of doors. Nothing but the sound of his thundering footsteps and a seething temper passing through.
Seemingly alone, he headed for the center of the room where a broom hovered high above while tightening his wrist guards with his teeth. As he approached, it moved closer without being summoned. A snitch was already in place, as were large hoops and training dummies on brooms to simulate actual players. He was still dripping wet from the rain, and a puddle collected at his feet. But it didn't slow him from continuing on with his latest nightly routine. With no hinderances or obstacles to get in his way. He went to mount the broom, barely managing to shove off the ground before he halted in place.
"I was beginning to wonder when you were going to show up."
His shoulders tensed up and the air grew thick at the unexpected company.
"You're supposed to be in Hogsmeade," was all he could manage.
"As should you," the disapproving tone continued from behind. Suddenly, the broom in his hand began to vanish, as did the rest of the room. It'd all been an illusion, shielding to hide what was already in place prior to his arrival tonight. Gone was the practice pitch, leaving a modest sized room with a sense of familiarity in its wake.
In the middle sat a makeshift couch and a workbench with an empty cauldron. As well as a pile of his books and her parchment scattered about the floor like they'd been occupying the space for months.
He knew if he turned around, there would be an iron railing along the balcony leading out to the night sky. Where she was likely hiding in plain sight.
Indiscreetly, Hermione walked up to him when the remnants of the mirage faded away. There they stood, with his back still turned to her, in the middle of the room she conjured; an echoed replica of a place which provided an escape for them both this year; the astronomy tower.
"They're going to know when you don't show."
She chuffed a dignified laugh.
"I'm the one who made those plans. Therefore, I can choose to not go if I so wish." Her feigned smile turned downward. Frowning with dissatisfaction. "Just like you did with our plans."
"I've been busy."
So I've heard." She approached him slowly, taking in his slumped posture and dirtied, damp gear. "Blaise and Theo have been reporting to Ginny since you didn't want me at your practices."
"You're taking this too personally—"
"How else am I supposed to take it?" She shot back with incredulity. "I'd understand wanting space but you and I both know this is because you don't want me to see you behaving recklessly."
"I'm fine," he said plainly. She gave him a hard look. One that told him she wasn't believing his claim for one second. And his expression flashed with an instability he'd been harbouring since the game. "I'm not in the mood—"
"A week ago, I would have accepted that response," she quipped swiftly. "But I think this has gone on for long enough."
Draco scoffed, turning to head straight for the door without a second thought. But when he tried opening it, it wouldn't budge. He pivoted in place, glaring at her.
She raised her hands as a claim to innocence. "Seems the room knows what you need better than you do." He let out an annoyed sigh, mumbling curses under his breath. "Draco—"
"I really don't want to hear it, Granger," he hissed firmly, but she wasn't dissuaded. She stayed put, giving him space despite being fully cognizant that his hostility has never been directed at her.
He turned away from the door, fiery embers ablaze in his eyes as he approached her.
"I've already had it all handed to me this week. So which is it? Pity? A half-arsed attempt at encouragement? Or maybe you agree with the rest of the team and think my time as a seeker has been expended."
Hermione couldn't withhold her shock. The whole team thought this? After one mistake?
"What? No! That's not—" she broke off, sighing deeply. "Look, I understand you're frustrated with yourself and with what happened. It's just, I don't entirely understand why you're punishing yourself like this," she paused, noticing the stiffening of his shoulders. "You can talk to me, Draco," she offered softly. "It's not like we haven't discussed negative matters before. Our past—"
"—has already happened," he interjected fluidly. "It's all history, and I can't change any of it. But this," he gestured to the space between them, "—is new, is still happening and you," her brow furrowed when the slightest hint of guilt flashed across his eyes, "you should be cross with me," he concluded ruefully.
She gave him a sympathetic smile. "I've had years of dealing with you when you were far less pleasant." At his remaining hesitance, she stepped up to him, directing their gazes to meet while taking his hands in her own. "Now, are you going to keep wallowing in self-pity or will you finally stop being so tense?" Draco could only stare at her, his face blank and indecipherable as she led them back to the couch where a pair of cups were summoned next to it.
"This had better be Ogden's," he grumbled. Hermione laughed, a bright force threatening to bring a smile to his lips.
"Maybe next time you'll make the trip to Hogsmeade as planned," she remarked, withholding her amusement when he begrudgingly took a steaming cup, inhaling the scent of chamomile as they sat. There, they sipped the warm liquid and settled into a comfortable position. With them taking up most of one square and hardly an inch of personal place as her head rested on his shoulder.
They let a few beats of silence pass over before Draco set his cup in his lap, tilting his head back as the tea seemed to calm him. "How did you know to find me here?"
"Even I know how much you hate practicing in the rain." Hermione downed the rest of her cup before it vanished into thin air. "Didn't take long to figure out where you'd find a practice field on such short notice."
Staring at her, he hummed in a form of delayed acknowledgement.
"My habits aren't all self-destructive, you know."
Hermione looked at him, feeling a familiar heat arise to her cheeks. And surge below. "Oh?"
"Whenever I wanted to be alone and Eliza—er, Myrtle was more depressing than usual, I used to wander in the outskirts of the forest. Helped to clear my head."
"I see," she exhaled, not at all expecting that response. "Actually, I have a spot I used to go to as well. A clearing overlooking the lake. No one went there and it was always so peaceful."
His lips twitched. "Sounds nice."
"I'd love to show it to you someday." She glanced at him with clear intent when he began fidget with his arm braces.
"May I?" With that, Draco sat back and she stood from the couch to sit back on her haunches, allowing her to unstrap the last of his shin guards. Not without some difficulty of her own, however. "These really are quite...sturdy," she grunted, pulling at the stiff straps and laces.
"Imagine having to do them for every game and practice and bloody picture—"
"I never said I felt sorry for you." Hermione corrected, utilizing her infamous lecturing tone. "Quidditch is a voluntary activity. You chose this," she emphasized with firm tugs.
Draco had his head propped with a single finger at his temple, staring down at her with perplexity. "Even when you offer to help, you're a menace."
She smirked up at him. "Now you know how I feel."
Something about the way he was composed—calm and at ease with her—it tugged at her heart strings. As he watched her continue to struggle, a roguish glint came to his eyes. "I always knew you'd look pretty on your knees for me."
With that, Hermione gave him an overly sweet smile before jerking hard on his laces, very nearly cutting off his circulation. Draco's voice rose in pitch as he yelped out in pain.
"Fucking hell—alright. I'm actually quite relieved to see you. Perhaps I should have led with that."
She bit back a smile as she resumed removing his gear.
"I had every intention of spending my entire evening on a broom until the sun came up. Meanwhile, you," he paused, continuing to stare at her in disbelief and wonder,"—I've been dreadful and you've been so lovely."
Hermione wanded away his shin guards and reclaimed her spot next to him, letting him wrap an arm around her. "Well, I wouldn't say dreadful—" she remarked playfully.
"I've been angry and distracted, and completely in my own head. It's hardly attractive."
At his low drawl, she studied his figure in the remnants of the uniform sans robe and protective gear. No evidence that he was player number seven or bore the weight of an unspoken, pernicious vow in his veins.
Here, he was just Draco.
Here, she was free to look and admire his 'unattractiveness' to her heart's content.
And if the heat pooling between her legs was any tell, his claim couldn't be further from the truth.
"Before, you mentioned having habits that weren't self-destructive?" She prodded, fiddling with the collar of his jumper when her insinuation clicked in his head.
"I have a few," he provided in a low timbre. "Though I don't think the one you have in mind is a good idea."
"I don't mind if you're a little rough," she attempted. "Unless it's bad form to have sex in your uniform?" She asked, pleased when he let out a laugh, baring the first genuine smile she's seen from him since the game.
"Little late for that."
Her expression soured, her vivid eyes darting up to his. "Care to elaborate?"
He flashed her a mischievous grin, not even hiding his enjoyment out of witnessing the spark of possessiveness he invoked out of her.
But she couldn't deny it. She did feel possessive of him. The separation throughout the day and the nights without him only reminded her of just how much. And the thought of another having him like this made her want to claim him, ruin him, by her own means.
"What I mean is, even if I've been in a similar situation before," he drawled before softening his gaze, "I don't want to use sex like that again. Not with you," he explained, reaching up to stroke her cheek.
Hermione felt her defensiveness already diminishing at his candor. "Are you implying I'm not a better distraction?"
"Haven't you figured it out by now?" Before she could speak, he captured her lips in a fierce kiss that stole her breath away. He pulled her onto his lap as her mouth parted, relishing the taste and feel of him. "You are all I can think about most days," he mumbled heatedly against her lips.
"Well then, I see no reason why we can't continue," she persisted, adjusting herself and letting him feel the benefit wearing a skirt provided. Silver eyes turned molten, darkening in a single breath. "Besides, we never got the chance to celebrate."
He huffed, rolling his eyes. "I already told you, there was—"
"—hardly a reason to celebrate, yes, yes I know," she mimicked, utilizing her best impression of him. "But I disagree," she crooned, trailing along his chiseled jaw. "For starters, there wasn't another attempt to kill you."
"Well, if we're keeping our expectations low," Draco muttered, tilting his head back when she nuzzled his neck. She could already feel the fight leaving him.
"I also got to watch you play—really play—for the first time." He let out a low groan. Either from the spot she grazed with her teeth or the movement from her hips grinding into his awakening cock, she wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps a mixture of both.
Heat danced in his eyes, his pulse quickening in its haste.
"You're going to regret starting this." Her head was shaking before he finished.
"No. No, I don't think I will." Her proclamation came out breathless as she ground down again. His head fell backwards, on the brink of breaking. A familiar heat sank to her core, giving her enough motivation to proceed.
"Wait, fuck, the Arithmancy test," he bit back a moan. "You wanted to study—"
"I did just before coming here. And it's not the only thing I plan on getting full marks on," she crooned, pausing the grinding motion of her hips to sit up, much to his half-relief and half-dismay.
"Christ." He shook his head, rattling out of his lust-riddled haze. "Who are you and what have you done with Granger?" Hermione shrugged, flashing him a shy grin.
"Let's just say I've sorted out my priorities," she said with a sureness that didn't quite meet her eyes. His unwavering stare followed her hands as they unclasped her robes, sliding it from her shoulders before tossing them aside, making a show of draping it over the sofa.
With a shivery breath, she tugged at her tie to loosen it. Though it did nothing to relieve the tightness she felt in her throat. She fought the tremor in her hands when she reached for her buttons but Draco shot a hand up, stopping her movements.
She paused, feeling her heart drop. The weak dam holding back the large waves of insecurity broke, flooding her with the notion that he didn't find her assertiveness to be titillating as she'd hoped.
Looking closer, she could see that beyond shards of glass, there was a fiery heat flaring. Pushing aside her fret, she fixated on the calculations in his gaze. Where he was able to negate past false confidence and pinpoint her self-doubt and tepidness. Determined, he held her face in a gentle caress and kissed her deeply.
His lips, his touch, was at once a comfort and a thrill. His ability to read her without an exchange of words was an aphrodisiac, sending a jolt of arousal through her and reawakening her initial desires for when she confronted him tonight.
Hermione felt him shift below her to flip their position, a silent offer to take over and provide her with something she was familiar with. Something she knew they'd both enjoy and she would be comfortable with. But she pressed him back, breaking their kiss and resumed her position on top. Instinctively, his hands rose to greet the curve of her arse. Until one of her own shot out to swat them away.
"No touching," she said softly, but firm. "You've ignored me all week, after all." At her lifted tone, the corners of Draco's mouth twitched.
"Is that an order?"
"That depends." She arched a brow, unimpressed. "Are you going to behave or not?"
His irises expanded sharply.
Her hands fell to her blouse where she began to work the buttons open.
His fingers twitched from their place at his side.
"For the record, this is significantly worse than getting punched," he supplied lowly.
She huffed, giving him a wry smile. "Well, we wouldn't want to ruin that pointy face of yours."
"You cheeky little—" he trailed off, mouth slightly agape. Unable to conjure any thought when vivid green lace decided to make an appearance. With a delicate bow in the middle, he eyed her like a gift on Christmas morning.
In the way his eyes roved about her, she did the same. Taking in his ruddy lips, rucked up jumper and steadfast leer.
Gods, he's gorgeous, she thought. And he's all mine.
Her breath hitched at the thought.
She sat up, letting her blouse gradually slide down and off her arms. Her eyes fluttered shut and she tilted her head back, sliding a hand to heaving breasts. Soft moans escaped her lips as she teased herself through flimsy lace where he could just make out hardened peaks protruding.
Draco inhaled sharply as she fondled herself, inadvertently shifting the cups and giving him peeks of dusty pink. His knuckles were white, clenching tightly at his sides to keep from reaching for her when her skirt rode up to reveal matching knickers. He fought a groan when she slipped them aside just enough to glide a single finger through her folds.
"Do you like playing with yourself, love?" he implored huskily when the roaming finger slid inside. She hummed softly, thrilled to see him so affected by her.
"Feels better when you do it," she admitted breathily, a blissful expression taking form when she added a second. It'd become muscle memory at this point. Especially after having done it every night this week.
"Yeah?"
She nodded, wanting to drag this out as long as she could before their mutual coveting took over. Before her hesitance had a chance to come back. Though it seemed the blatant, unabashed lust darkening his eyes kept it at bay.
"Merlin," he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. "You're beautiful."
The flush darkened on her cheeks, but she leaned forward, her lace clad breasts brushing against the wool of his jumper.
His jaw tightened when her hand dropped to the front of his trousers.
His head fell back as she dragged her hand up and down, feeling the hard curve though stiff fabric and giving the occasional squeeze.
"Granger," he gritted out when she dragged a cup free with her other hand. She bit down on her lip to stifle a groan as she pinched a nipple, her grip on him tightening inadvertently in her strokes. "You're going to make me come in my trousers."
Hermione stilled at his words as an idea that had come across her thoughts in planning this evening had been brought to the forefront.
She met Draco's eyes as she slowly slid back until she knelt before him for the second time that evening. The silver in his eyes had gone, and the way he stared at her made her breath catch.
She could feel his muscles tense up through his trousers as she traced along his thigh, steadily creeping upwards until she met his waistband. His fingers twitched as she untied the laces with ease. Her heart began to pound and she suppressed a shaky breath when she pulled the edges apart, reached into his briefs and pulled his erection free.
At once, she was entranced at the appendage protruding in front of her, having never had the chance to look at him from this angle before. She wrapped a delicate hand around his length, flexing her fingers and analyzing the weight of him in her hand before giving an experimental pump. Watching attentively as a glistening bead accumulated.
His head thumped on the back of the sofa.
For a solid minute, she stared. With the time they've allotted, she was able to take him in with great detail. Able to appreciate the shape of him and how he seemingly grew under her ministrations and the way it curved slightly to the left—
"Distracted, are we?"
She grinned in response. "You are rather distracting." When she glanced up, she took pride at the heated look in his eyes. "Is this alright?" she asked, continuing to utilize gentle strokes.
Dazed, Draco nodded slowly.
He watched helplessly, lips parted as she leaned forward to press a soft kiss. Flattening her tongue, she ran it along the length of him. One long lick from base to tip. He grabbed the edge of the sofa and swore in a deep rumble.
Her hair swayed around her shoulders as she worked her tongue over him, around the ridge, across the head.
Hermione took her time, peppering kisses along his shaft, sucking on the head, before opening up and taking as much of him in as she could. Draco clutched the sofa and swore, groaning when he felt the back of her throat. He wasn't even half way in.
Taking that as a good sign, she gave the tip small licks. Draco watched in awe, forcing himself not to buck up into her mouth each time she made another pass.
His hand ran through his unkempt hair.
"Granger, your mouth—"
She kept going, a surge of confidence ran through her upon witnessing his need for her. Unrelenting as she bobbed up and down, cherishing this part of him like one of her sugar quills.
He's beautiful. So responsive. Not at all shy about being vocal.
Draco shuddered and jerked in her grip.
His pleasure was her drive, completely drunk on bliss and her mouth.
Like open windows, she could see it all in his eyes.
Pure want. Utter desperation. All for her.
Draco grunted when she sucked harder.
"M'close," he mumbled. But she already knew. She could feel it in the way he throbbed in her mouth, the way his abdomen clenched. How his body trembled beneath her. The sign of a man hanging on by a loose thread. On the verge of breaking.
His hands were frantic in trying to push her off. "Gr-Granger, you need to—"
But she was relentless.
Wrapping both hands around his length, she pumped him with slow, languid strokes while keeping less than half of him in her mouth. The muscles in her mouth were getting sore and there was still more of him to go. But she knew better than to push her limits. Given the state Draco was in right now, she had a strong suspicion there would be another chance.
A few bobs later and she felt the shift. With a final groaned curse, he spilled down her throat.
With a soft pop, she pulled away, watching him slump at the loss of pressure and tremors of release.
Reducing Draco to a clump of a mess in a matter of minutes made her cheeks warm with pride. They're both mostly dressed and save for the flies of his trousers, everything about him is still intact. Yet, he looked utterly ruined.
"Was that alright?" Her voice was a rasp and he looked at her like he couldn't believe she had the audacity to even ask.
"Get up here, now," he commanded, sounding completely ragged. Her jaw ached and her legs were numb but she followed instructions nonetheless. She straddled his thighs, centering herself on top of him. Grabbing onto his shoulders, she steadied herself but he didn't move. Instead, he kept a tight, firm grip on the couch and looked like he was straining. Like it was killing him not to reach for her.
She realized that he hadn't touched her this whole time. All because she said for him not to.
Perhaps he was due for a reward.
"Touch me, Draco."
With a low growl, he launched. Tangling his fingers through loose curls, he pulled to him, kissing her blind. With unleashed fervency, he tugged away at any material keeping her from him. She hears him mutter between kisses.
"...fucking perfect. No idea...how many times...dreamed of your mouth."
She managed a laugh before he found her breasts, cutting her off with a mewl. "My perfect, greedy girl." Another wave of heat rushed through her. A lone finger slipped past her knickers and he bit out a low groan at her readiness. "You're drenched."
"It's been weeks," she exhaled sharply when he added a second. "Since you fucked me." The words hit him exactly as she hoped. Draco sucked in a breath, retracting his fingers and his eyes nearly black. "Been wanting this. Wanting you."
"We've been busy," he said with difficulty. "And I've been an idiot."
She reached between them to pull her knickers aside.
"You can make it up to me," she crooned, his gaze following hers downward where they touched. Where he was already hard once more. As her folds glided over the tip, his steely eyes flashed and he slowly lifted his head to meet her gaze.
"I will," he murmured into her ear, and the desperation in his voice made her tremble.
She slowly sank onto him, relishing in their simultaneous moans, gratified when she witnessed his head fall back and his face tensed with pleasure as her walls enveloped him. As he filled her, she nipped at his neck, nuzzling him, simply savoring the sensation of their connection.
Unlike Draco, nothing she did came from experience. She had nothing to rely on except for instinct and a naturally strong pull to him. Unsure of the best way to move, she tried reversing the motion by lifting up, letting him slide almost all the way out before coming back down again.
The resulting groan was pulled straight from his throat.
So she did it again, changing the angle just a bit—
"Oh, fuck."
She looked at his face and it was tight, his eyes pressed closed.
Then she did it a few more times.
"Fuck, Granger, yes."
And in a sultry language that was foreign to her only weeks ago, she took what she wanted from him.
He held her steady as she found her rhythm. Slow and sensual, she angled herself and gripped the back of the couch on either side of him, slowly increasing her pace as he reached around, slipping the closure of her bra. Draco lowered his head, dragging along the length of her neck, paying attention to spots he knew would make her quiver.
Up and down she went, taking him again, and again. Finding it felt best when the base of him rubbed against her clit. His grip on her hips tightening.
Hermione pulled him closer, clutching onto his soft hair and arching into his mouth as she moaned softly. Sliding one hand around his neck, she basked in the moment. His burning touch only added fuel to their fire.
With a firm tug on his hair, he groaned. And his hips rose up to meet hers.
Shifting, he pulled her forward as his hips snapped up. His other hand journeyed between their bodies, and the additional pressure made her gasp.
His eyes snapped open to watch her. A lusty haze in his eyes and everlasting hunger present.
"Did my needy little minx miss having me inside her?"
He kept moving and rubbing and she couldn't help but whimper.
"That's it, love. Take what you want from me. I'm all yours."
Hermione inhaled sharply.
Hers.
It sounded even better coming from him.
The addictive sound of their bodies colliding and his husky growls echoed about the room. Each fall and rise of their hips brought forth a new wave of bliss with Draco bottoming out and reaching new depths inside her. With her grinding against his hand that was on her mound.
He stared at her with wild eyes. Brazen and unhindered.
Hers.
She managed a few more thrusts before she started wildly clenching around him. Her walls fluttering and spasming and entirely out of her control.
He groaned loudly into her ears, surrounding every fiber of her being. He was panting, and cursing and her muscles were still clenching and she didn't know if it would ever stop. He bit down on her neck and he stuttered, his rhythm beginning to falter. His hips snapped up a few more times before he pressed upward and held himself against her, straining as he spilled into her.
She panted, feeling herself go limp and fall forward into him.
They both stayed in place as they caught their breath.
"Holy shit," he exhaled. "I needed that."
"I thought you might." She gave him a knowing smile. He pulled her in for a heated kiss, moaning when she pulled back and lifted up from him to reach for her robes.
"You're incredible," he mumbled incoherently.
She smiled while searching for her wand. "Only took you eight years."
"Not quite that long," he snickered as she branded her wand.
As the haze faded, so did their mess. Following the cleansing charm, they dressed in a comfortable silence. Instead of preparing to leave, they resumed sitting together with her head on his shoulder. Without thinking, she'd been stroking his hair back into place before settling at his nape where the relaxing motions continued. Where she could feel the tension gradually melt away. Still, she could tell there was something else that kept his guard up. Something which lingered in the back of his mind. Something that riddled him with enough guilt to the point of overexertion.
Something he hasn't told her yet.
"Draco—"
"The team thinks I'm too timid." His words drifted between them like a pin drop in silence.
Hermione let the words on her tongue fade, deciding that he's shared so much with her already and knew he would tell her when he was ready. On the subject of the game, it was admittedly a risky maneuver. Had it been Harry, he would have taken the ninety degree nose-first dive straight into the ground without a second thought if it meant earning a win for his team. While Hermione could hardly blame him for not wanting to do such a drastic move, it was the nature of the game as her friends liked to often remind her with the frequent visits to the hospital wing.
"Can I be honest?"
He stared, silently telling her to go on.
"I don't think they're entirely wrong."
She held back a giggle at his dramatic offended expression, and explained. "The reason why Harry was an excellent seeker wasn't just because of familial ties. It's because he isn't afraid of taking risks if it means accomplishing his goal."
"You're saying I should be more self-destructive like Potter," he deadpanned, displeased at the prospect.
"It's true that Harry is quite reckless, but in the case of Quidditch, it benefited him. Most of the time, anyway," she chuckled fondly. "His ambition, along with his boundless courage, is what often gives him the winning edge. However, what he lacks is years of knowledge and experience. Harry didn't grow up knowing how to use a broom. You're more calculating in your movements and thus, have more control," she paused. "I know Blaise is only as fast as he is because you've been training him in private."
Draco was stunned.
"I didn't realize you paid all that much attention."
Hermione looked away, blushing. "I do look up from my books occasionally," she shrugged. "I'm not a Quidditch expert by any means. But if you're asking me, I think you could easily best any current seeker at Hogwarts if you were more comfortable with pushing your limits. Only if that's something you're willing to try."
He raised a brow at a part that stuck out to him. "Current?"
"Obviously, my galleons are still on Harry, but with Ginny, you might stand a chance." She grinned cheekily at his repulsed guise. "Unless she's a chaser. Then you're done for."
He only stared at her, unable to formulate a proper response.
"I haven't offended you, have I?" Hermione asked, feigning concern.
"Oh, you have. I'm only letting it slide because you practically shagged my brains out," he sniffed. "But my lessons don't have to be entirely exclusive to Blaise, you know," he hinted. To which, she let out a nervous laugh.
"Oh goodness, no. I'm terrified of flying."
He frowned. "You're what?"
"Oh yes. Deathly afraid."
"But I've seen you fly. In the Room of Hidden Things—"
"Funny how fear works when escaping death becomes the priority," she retorted, already feeling the flips and drops in her belly from mere discussion of the topic. "Harry's offered and I've flown with him before, but I'll be happy to never have to get on a broom again."
At the sight of Draco's pout, she looked away, shaking her head insistently.
"No, absolutely not. I refuse."
"Oh, come on, Granger. Where's that Gryffindor courage of yours?"
"Nonexistent when it comes to certain death at insane heights."
"You think I'd let you fall?"
"Well, no..." she trailed off, recalling how happy he always was mid-flight. Now that he'd said it aloud, the idea of riding with him for fun did sound enticing. More so than with Harry or Ron when their lives were at stake. And she was never one to back down from a challenge.
"The offer isn't going anywhere." He flashed her a handsome smile and she was almost tempted to do something foolish like say yes, she'd do anything for him. "Besides, I can't have people finding out my girlfriend doesn't fly," he said with mock disdain.
Almost.
"You could stand to be a little more encouraging."
"I can be encouraging," he shot back.
"Telling others to simply 'do better' isn't encouraging—" she prompted, and he rolled his eyes.
"They bring it upon themselves," he said simply. "If Heidi wasn't so taken by that Cadmus kid—"
"Callan—" she corrected.
"—then she wouldn't need me during free period on a weekly basis."
Taking what Ginny had told her to advantage, she quipped, "I'm fairly certain she was just using you to get his attention."
His eyes widened with surprise.
"You're joking."
"Gin told me he'd been working up the courage to ask her out. I figured the same went for her."
He blinked blankly. Clearly, he hadn't considered that possibility.
"She hardly spoke," he recalled defensively. "If anything, she seemed intimidated by me."
Hermione snorted. "I can hardly blame her. Because, well…you know. You're so awkward about everything."
"I—" he looked positively offended. "I'm not awkward—"
"You are!" Hermione's eyes crinkled with mirth. "You're always so proper and implicit with your approaches. How's anyone supposed to know what your true intentions are?" she teased.
"Is that so?" He quirked a brow. "What's say we get started on your flying training?"
Her smirk fell. As did her stomach. "Draco, I truly don't feel comfortable—"
"Don't worry. There won't be any actual flying involved in this part of the lesson. At least, not in the literal sense."
Her brows furrowed.
"First lesson: mounting." With a bemused expression, she watched as he quickly shed his jumper. Followed by his trousers. "It's all about how you position yourself." Next went her blouse and skirt. "With the proper balance, you also need confidence in interacting with your mount." She let out a yelp of surprise when he pulled her on top of him again and unhooked her bra.
"You can't learn to control a broom if you refuse to ride it." She withheld a gasp at the feel of him stiff beneath her, already feeling the ache for him resurge. "But given that you're hesitant on riding one at the current moment," the feeling of her slick wetness being exposed came first, "—what's say you practice on me instead?" Followed by the feeling of the very tip of him.
Pushing.
"How—you're already—" her voice was lost the instant he began to inch inside of her. Her bundle of nerves were still sensitive, but ready for him all the same.
"It's like you said, love," when their hips met, they exhaled in unison at the sensation, "—it's been weeks."
12 Grimmauld Place - March 12, 1999
"Thanks, Robards. I appreciate it." Harry sighed tiredly when the connection finally broke.
Ron looked up from the mess currently taking up their coffee table. "What'd he say?"
"The charms worked. They confirmed that the artifact was confiscated by Dolohov."
"And?"
"And while he was in possession of the artifact when he ran into Claire. Memory charm showed her in the casting."
"Did it show what happened to her?"
Harry shook his head.
"The last time he saw her, she was alive. He chased her into Diagon Alley and she managed to hide out of sight."
"So he didn't kill her," Ron muttered, crossing Dolohov's name off the list.
"Who's next on the list?"
When Ron's eyes read the next line, his facial expression turned sour. Looking visibly green, he answered;
"Bellatrix Lestrange."
Harry winced at the name like it was a curse.
"We need to get her wand. See what the last spells she cast were."
"Oh bloody hell," Ron cursed, "we don't even know how far back they spells go. For all we know, she probably tortured hundreds of muggleborns after—"
"You're right," Harry agreed flippantly. "She probably did. Regardless, we still need to look into it because we still have a missing body to account for and someone in Azkaban who's innocent. For her murder charge, at least," Harry's eyes turned dim and he appeared remorseful. "We need to do this. For Sparrow."
Despite protesting, Ron begrudgingly agreed. "Yeah. You're right."
Harry looked up at the clock.
"It's late, and it's Friday. We can request access to Bellatrix's wand on Monday. It'll still take a while before they run all the spell checks to make sure there isn't any embedded dark magic. But once we have it and run through the spell history, then maybe we'll finally have our answer."
A few seconds passed where they sat in silence.
"Take away?" Ron offered.
Harry grinned widely.
"Let's do it."
They gathered their jackets and headed for the door.
"I do hope we end this soon," Ron shared as they locked up. "I hate having to keep this from my family. You know how they get," he complained.
"I imagine that's not the only thing they've been prying about," Harry hinted, raising a brow at him before his expression softened. "How's she doing, by the way?"
Ron's eyes fell downward, a certain graveness taking form as he focused on the concrete passing beneath their feet. "Mind healer cleared her today and the nightmares are less frequent, but I don't think she's ready yet."
With sympathy, Harry put an arm on his shoulder.
"I don't blame her. It's good of you to be there for her despite all that's happened."
Ron smiled, a gesture that nearly met his eyes. "Thanks, mate."
As they made their way along, they could just make out the lit up sign for their favorite take out place a few blocks away.
"I'll just be glad we don't have to keep hiding anything from Hermione," Harry added, lost in thought.
Ron nodded in agreement. "I wonder what she's up to right now."
"Hermione on a Friday night? Probably studying for some test," Harry said with a knowing smirk. Then he paused. "Or maybe, she's actually enjoying herself and having a life."
Together, they shared a glance and burst out laughing. The lighthearted, jovial sound carrying them further down the street.