Perhaps feeling that their relationship was fragile after experiencing its first bump, Rabastan was loath to be parted from her for very long. Hermione did everything she could to reassure him that their relationship wasn't in jeopardy (and it wasn't as if she could break the betrothal if she wanted to) and happily welcomed him to the library to revise with her. She felt like she had little time to do much else than study, with NEWTs right around the corner.
Even if her future was uncertain, she still wanted to be sure that she had the best possible start to adult life, and that meant passing all the NEWTs that she could.
She was appreciative that Rabastan had the same drive and focus for his studies. There was something so very attractive about a wizard who took things seriously when he needed to. In any case, it was a huge improvement on Harry and Ron, who actively avoided the library unless they were looking for her to ask for help on an essay that they'd put off until the last moment.
On top of that, Rabastan always seemed to intuitively know when she needed a break. Even if she protested, he would ultimately succeed and get her out of the library for a walk around the castle or even an ill-advised game of Wizard's Chess in the common room (she'd yet to beat him in a game).
Now that he knew about it, he sometimes would take them up to the Room of Requirement, eager to test out the capacity of the enchanted space. They hadn't used it for any more amorous activities yet. In fact, since their talk, Rabastan hadn't seemed to want to kiss her very much at all. Nothing like the desperate snogging sessions they'd had before, when they couldn't keep their hands off of each other.
Hermione worried that he was secretly disgusted by her now — too disgusted to deign putting his lips on her for more than a quick peck — now that he'd heard her say so forcefully that she was a muggleborn. Sure, he'd been fine when he knew that her grandparents were squibs, but was hearing her say she was muggleborn a step too far?
She wished that it didn't bother her so much, but it did. She wished that they never had to have that discussion, but she wasn't naive. It would have happened at some point. Still, she missed him — the casual weight of his arm pulling her into his side or the way that his eyes drank in her form when he thought she wasn't looking.
Maybe it was a desire to regain some of that closeness that had her pulling him up to the Room of Requirement one Tuesday afternoon, sneaking away from Regulus in a fit of giggles. It was the library at Grimmauld Place once again, as she did have plans of revising with him here.
"Much more comfortable than studying in the library here, no?" she asked him with a mischievous grin, pulling out her Ancient Runes textbook. "I don't know why I haven't been studying here the whole time."
He gave her a crooked grin. "Probably because then you wouldn't have been able to study with me, without revealing your secret little room," he said, teasing her. "And, I know how much you loved studying with me last year. You definitely wanted me from the get go, just admit it."
Hermione tossed a pillow from the settee at him. "I wasn't just lusting over you in the library all last year," she said, affronted that he wouldn't think that she was serious about her schoolwork.
"Don't worry, I lusted enough for the both of us," he said, grinning at her.
"Rabastan!" she said, though it was flattering to hear. She wondered just what he'd been thinking precisely and she thought she might like to hear it. But, some other time, when they didn't have an extremely important set of exams coming up.
He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, I will attempt to study," he said, pulling out his own Astronomy book and set to work reading.
Hermione laid on one end of the couch, with a pillow propping up her head and her knees bent to hold her book. It was so nice, sitting with him on the settee, just reading with one another. He didn't mind if she stuck her feet under his legs. He kept his focus on his text book, but couldn't stop himself from reaching out to touch her. His hand idly found her calf, teasing her with feather light touches up and down the muscle. She could always tell when something really caught his attention, because his hand would stop in animated suspension, waiting until some of his brain power could be spared once again to resume the caress.
She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, studying in parallel, but she felt his gaze heavy on her even if he wasn't saying anything. Curious, she closed her book and looked at him over her knees. "What is it?" she asked him. "Something wrong?"
"We never talked about... about where you came from," he said, drawing his eyebrows together. "Before the Blacks, I mean."
Hermione swallowed, feeling uncharacteristically nervous about the topic. "You never asked," she said, feeling a bit accusatory. She couldn't help it — she was defensive about this topic. She had decided that she wasn't going to tell him about being from the future... not until she was more certain about where he stood.
"I'm asking now," he said, smiling softly at her. "How did you come to live with the Blacks? Did something happen to your parents? Why don't you live with them anymore?"
She bit her lower lip, trying to think about how to answer the question. "Slow down," she teased, even though inside her heart was pounding. "One question at a time."
He laughed — a pleasant sound that she was sure she'd never get tired of hearing. "Okay, I suppose we should start at the beginning," he said. "I know you said your parents are muggle healers. And that someone had to come tell you about your magic. But, why did you go to Beauxbatons instead of Hogwarts?"
Hermione felt a bit of relief that he had come up with a place for her to say she was educated all on his own. It would save her from having to come up with a lie. Though, she supposed that Beauxbatons was the most reasonable place to say she'd been. "I grew up in London, but then we moved to France when I was ten," she lied, hating that she couldn't just tell him the truth. She hoped he wouldn't hate her too much when she finally explained. "So I suppose Hogwarts didn't reach out."
"Did — did something happen with your parents?" he asked softly. "I mean, how did you come back to London?"
She wasn't sure how to explain this one either. "They died," she said finally, feeling like it was the right explanation. Hopefully it would be uncomfortable enough that he wouldn't pry. "Car accident." There. That sounded muggle and plausible enough to be unavoided.
"And, how did you end up with the Blacks? Didn't your grandparents offer to take you in?" he pressed, curious.
"Something happened before I could reach out to them," she lied. Eyebrows drawn together, she remembered Bellatrix chasing her through the Ministry and how she'd just tried to Floo to Grimmauld Place. "I was in a duel with someone —"
"A duel?" he asked, incredulous.
"Yes, a duel. And I'm not totally clear what happened, but I ended up at Grimmauld Place," she pressed forward with the story.
"Now I know why you were so impressive when you dueled Bernie," he said, staring at her in awe. "You have experience. Salazar, I'd hate to go up against you."
"Anyway, Orion correctly assumed that I must have Black blood if I got into their wards," she explained, hoping to breeze through any more questions. "And then I found out about my family and that my Grandpa Mark was really Marius. And, they sort of took me in without asking. I suppose I could have reached out to my grandparents, but I was so furious with them for keeping magic from me, that I found myself agreeing with Arcturus to stay and go to Hogwarts."
Rabastan leaned over and pressed a kiss to her knee. "Well, I for one am glad that you stayed," he said. "Because otherwise our paths wouldn't have crossed."
"Are you sure?" she asked, shocked at how small her voice sounded.
"Of course I am," he said, looking at her like she was crazy. "Why would you ask me that?"
"Because you haven't kissed me properly since I told you about living as a muggleborn," she squeaked out. "I thought maybe you were disgusted with me."
Now he looked at her like that was the most idiotic thing that he'd ever heard in his life. "I didn't want to rush you into things," he said, softly, his eyes going darker with desire. "Into something you might regret."
She narrowed her eyes at him, thinking that sounded awfully familiar. "Have you been talking to Regulus?" she demanded, wondering if her stupid brother had tried to have the talk with Rabastan as well as her. Really, just who did he think he was?
"He might have had something to say to me after Ansel caught us," he replied, sounding guilty.
"Well, do me a favor and forget whatever my brother said," she ordered, imperiously. "I will decide if things are moving too fast and I was quite enjoying the pace of how things were going."
He gave one of those half-grins and suddenly he was looming over her on the settee, his body cradled by her now open legs. Rabastan remained on his forearms so that he could get a good look at her, but every other part of him was pressed tightly against her. She felt a pulse of need echo through her body when she realized that the hard object pressed up against her stomach was his cock.
Salazar, was it possible that he truly wanted her as much as all that?
"If you say so," he said, teasingly, before he caught her lips in a kiss. They were well practiced at this, but Rabastan had a new level of neediness, especially when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him to her.
She wanted him so badly, he was pretty much the only thing that she could think about. Each swirl of his tongue in her mouth made her moan, but she was too far gone to care how desperate she sounded. When she caught his lip between her teeth, his answering groan rumbled through her body. Hermione clenched her legs around his body, trying to rock her hips to get a bit of answering friction to the absolute ache she felt between her legs.
With her permission to do more, Rabastan was not content to kiss her lips forever. Propped up, his fingers found the buttons of her shirt, pulling the offending garment apart. He kissed down her neck and Hermione wondered if he could feel the wild gallop in her pulse. She couldn't wait to see what he was going to do to her next.
His lips found the edge of her bra and he boldly pulled down the edge of the fabric fully revealing her breasts. Her head dropped back and she stared at the ceiling, certain that if she watched his lips wrap around her straining nipple she just might combust in that moment. The wet sensation of his tongue on her skin was enough to make her moan helplessly and she wondered just why they hadn't just warded the door to the boys' dorms after kicking Ansel out. Surely, there was no good reason to wait so long to do this.
Her hands found their way into his hair and she was torn somewhere between wanting to hold him just as he was and wanting him to give the other nipple equal treatment. The delicious swipe of his thumb against the other was simultaneously too much and not enough. She mewled, helpless to do anything but feel everything that he was doing to her and feebly rocking her hips against his own.
Salazar, she didn't know what she wanted, but when he began to make a downward retreat, she felt her center clench in anticipation. Now, she lifted her head, needing to see what he was doing, her abdomen tight with the effort. His large hand slid up the outside of her leg, disappearing under the material of her skirt, until his fingers found the edge of her knickers.
He wore an absolutely wicked grin, but paused, giving her a chance to stop him if she didn't want him to go any further. "Not too fast for you?" he asked, his voice something darker than it was before.
"If you stop now, I swear to Salazar—"
Rabastan did not need any more encouragement and cut her off by pulling her knickers down her legs. The sudden rush of air against her overheated skin when she was finally exposed to the room did nothing to cool her ardor. Nor did the scratchy feel of her skirt being pushed up her legs, baring her further. She could feel the hot exhale of breath from his mouth first, but nothing else. Godric, what exactly was he doing? Just staring at her?
She chanced a look and felt her body clench completely reflexively, seeing the tentative, mesmerized look on his face while he was looking at her. But truly, she needed him to do something.
He leaned forward, uncharacteristically unsure, but fixated. He licked a stripe against her center, from bottom to top, until he found the button at the top. Hermione's lips parted as he flicked his tongue against her. "Oh," she breathed out, feeling too overwhelmed to say anything else. It felt illicitly good and she wished she could tell him, but her mind was so fuzzy with pleasure that she couldn't do anything but moan her praise.
Paying attention to every hitch in her breathing and every increase in pitch of her whines, Rabastan was a quick study. He figured out what she liked and was content to keep doing it over and over and over again, like circling his tongue around her clit until she was wound so tight, she was certain that she was going to break. Her thighs were practically shaking from the effort it took to keep them in their place, but she didn't care.
The sudden press of his finger inside of her made her gasp, her walls clenching around the digit in a sultry embrace. She could feel the rumble of his approval of the sensation, his groan an indication of his own eagerness. A second finger joined the first and she was overcome with how full she felt, as he entered her again and again.
"Oh please, oh please," she begged, unabashed, until all the tension in her body finally snapped and she was pushed over the edge of climax. "Rabastan!" Waves of pleasure radiated through her again and again, her body clutching at his deft fingers, all while he didn't let up with his tongue, guiding her through. Her heart was practically slamming against her chest, but she didn't care, too shattered to do anything.
She thought it would never end, but quickly learned that too much of a good thing really was reality. She pressed her hands to his shoulders, until he withdrew.
"Oh sweet Salazar," she said, certain that she'd never experienced anything better.
Rabastan sat back against the settee and looked down at her with a smug grin, but he could not disguise the quick press of his hand against the front of his trousers. Hermione sat up and looked at him impishly.
"Now I know why Vira is always going on about Angus's fingers," she said, teasingly, to disarm him.
His head dropped back against the couch. "Really? He's my roommate," he groaned. "I have to look at his stupid face every day."
With him distracted, she dropped to her knees on the floor in front of him, her hands going to the waistband of his trousers. His sudden inhale was incredibly gratifying. She liked knowing that she could still surprise him, too.
Rabastan grabbed her hands in his, stopping her from undoing the zip of his pants. "You don't have to," he mumbled. "I don't expect—"
"Too fast for you?" she asked, cocking her head to one side and smirking at him. She knew that he was just as desperate for her as she was for him.
He took a deep breath before his resolve to be a gentleman was broken. "No," he agreed, his voice gravelly with need. In a flash, he was pushing his trousers and underwear down, eager to reveal his cock to her.
She stared at it for a moment, her turn to feel unsure of herself. She looked up at Rabastan's face and saw him gazing down at her, his pupils blown so wide with lust that his blue-green irises were nearly non-existent, and it gave her the bravery to start. Tentatively, she wrapped her hand around the shaft, pleased to hear him groan, surprised that something so simple could be effective. Sliding her hand up and down once or twice to figure out the action, she found that she was a quick learner, too. The noises he made — the small inhalations of breath or the clench of his hands at his sides — taught her just how he liked to be touched.
Sitting up from her heels, she parted her lips and took the head into her mouth. She heard him curse and made a small noise of approval, delighted that she was affecting him so much. Remembering how much she'd enjoyed the ebb and flow of his fingers inside her, she decided that he might like something similar. She took his length further into her mouth, her tongue flat and pressed against the underside, before retreating once again.
"Oh Salazar," he swore, his gaze blazing and heavy on her. "That feels so incredible. Yes, again, again..."
It was a surprise to herself that she was enjoying this as much as she was — not so much the physical act, but the way that she was making him feel. Wrapping her hand around everything she couldn't get her mouth around, she began working in tandem, which soon had Rabastan reduced to a mess of groans and random words of praise.
"Yes, Hermione —"
The sensations were consuming, but she tried to focus on each one — the weight of his cock against her tongue, the subtle press forward of his hips when she found a particularly good spot, the hand that cupped the side of her face, delving into her curls when he literally couldn't help himself any longer, the sound of him practically begging —
Belatedly, she would realize that he was trying to give her warning that he was about to come. His orgasm took her completely by surprise, but she didn't stop, remembering how she'd like the feeling of being nursed through the pleasure. She slowed her movements gradually, until she felt his thighs twitch underneath her and she let him go with a pop.
Rabastan wrapped her up in his arms, pulling her up from the floor and into his lap. He held her against him, their foreheads together, and slanted his lips against hers in a slightly ungraceful kiss, too lust drunk to be practiced.
"Thank you," he said, after a few beats. "That was... beyond anything that I could have imagined. I can die happy now."
She made a noise of displeasure. "Hey, don't get any ideas now!" she ordered. "I don't want you leaving me for a long time."
"Ugh, I don't know how I am supposed to just go down to dinner now and act normal," he said, his head dropping back against the settee once again, a blissful smile on his face.
Hermione laughed. "Let's review Herbology for thirty minutes," she suggested. "An unarousing topic that should refocus you."
"You underestimate yourself, Hermione," he teased, kissing her on the sensitive spot of skin just below her ear. "Anything you say is arousing to me."
She laughed again, batting him against the chest, but really too pleased to disagree with him.