Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

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The peculiar nature of her current circumstance was not lost on Hermione when, on an average Friday evening, she is joined by none other than Draco Malfoy for drinks at the pub.

Had she believed in divination (She certainly did not. Load of hogwash, that is) and gazed into Trelawny’s crystal ball in third year to see herself now, she would have laughed and said, ‘No possible way!’

As it was, she was trying her damnedest not to think of all the ways life had flipped itself around and led her here.

To a pub. With Draco sodding Malfoy.

Her coworker. Her very good looking coworker. Her very, very good looking coworker who also happened to be her ex-boyfriend’s best mate. Draco Malfoy, who had asked her out for drinks to help soothe the 'broken heart' his very best mate had caused.

“Here you are, Granger.” Draco ducked into the booth, sliding a chilled glass of butterbeer towards her. “Try not to get too pissed tonight, eh? I don’t fancy having to deal with a splinched bushy headed swot this evening.”

Hermione scoffed, glancing around the dingy old pub and hoping to Merlin he didn’t notice the blush creeping up her neck. She traced the condensation as it dripped down the glass, hoping it would help to cool her nerves.

“Don’t you worry, Malfoy. I’ll do my very best to keep my wits about me. Although you were the one who invited me out, so I don’t think it’s fair for you to say you don’t fancy dealing with me when you quite literally signed up for it.”

“So you agree?” A corner of his (very attractive) mouth lifted. “You are a bushy headed swot?”

“You forget just how easy it is to hex someone when there’s hardly any repercussions as Shacklebolt’s best and most favored employee.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, a small huff of laughter that Hermione must have heard a thousand times by now.

“You know, Granger,” He lifted his glass, the muscles in his forearm tensing. “I’ll never forgive the hat for misplacing you in Gryffindor when you are so clearly a snake.”

She gave him her best impression of his own smirk, watching his eyes as they flitted briefly down to her mouth. “Takes one to know one, I suppose.”

He took a sip of his firewhisky and, over the glass, returned said smirk, eyes flashing devilishly mercurial as they returned to hers.

“Too true, darling. Too true.”

Oh yes, how times had changed.

It was nearly five years ago now that Hermione began her Auror career in hopes of giving help to those who needed it most. The war had only fueled her need for justice, and she was determined to help dole it out. Draco had joined shortly after, having been acquitted of most of his war crimes.

He was given probation and forced to work for the DMLE to repay his debt to society, but she wasn’t sure the Wizengamot could have predicted just how good he’d be at his job. They had both quickly risen in rank, dancing around each other all the while, fighting for the position of Top Auror.

It was Draco who had introduced her properly to Theodore Nott one warm summer evening while they all attended a DMLE gala. Hermione knew of him from Hogwarts, but they had never truly spoken to one another.

Hermione had noted that he’d grown quite handsome over the years, wearing smartly cut black robes, his sharp jaw freshly shaved. Not quite as handsome as his blond counterpart, but... that wasn't important.

He was working at St. Mungo's training to be a healer, he’d told her. He had lost his mother as a young boy and strived for excellence in his craft in memory of her.

“I couldn’t save her back then, but I’d like to think that she’d be proud of what I’ve accomplished so far.”

She’d swiped quickly at the tear that had slipped down her cheek, not at all ashamed at how emotional his story had made her.

“Oh, I have a feeling she’d be immensely proud of you, Theodore.”

“Please,” he’d said, smiling brightly at her. “My friends call me Theo.”

“Theo,” she echoed, tasting the flavor of his name. “Tell me, do you play chess?”

They had dated for the better part of three years, but ultimately called it off.

Hermione knew it was her own fault that their relationship had crumbled. She tended to spend too many hours dedicated to work and not enough on her personal life. She did her best to make things work, but in the end, her best just wasn't enough for him.

They had agreed to remain cordial toward one another and ended the relationship amicably. With Hermione working in the same office as Draco, and Ginny dating their mutual friend Blaise Zabini, she knew that they couldn't avoid each other completely.

Theo dropped by her flat to return the items she had kept at his place - a toothbrush and her favorite joggers - and with a final hug goodbye to her, and a pat on the head for Crooks, he stepped into her floo and out of her life.

Hermione let herself have one good cry before going to bed early, determined to end the work week on a more positive note. Besides, even though they had dated for three years, their relationship had never felt… serious. Maybe that was why Hermione was left feeling a little sad, yes, but overall, she was fine.

And so it was Draco who barged into her office that afternoon to pester her about going out to his favorite pub. As was typical, he was looking rather dashing in his Auror uniform, brown leather wand holster peeking out from behind his Ministry mandated robes.

She'd had to shake her head to get the image of Draco in nothing but said wand holster from her mind.

"Come on, Granger. You've clocked what, fifty hours this week? You just closed the Johnson case, and Theo's too busy moping around his villa in Italy." He had looked down at her sitting at her desk with a frown, hands shoved in his pockets. “One drink.”

"Must I?" She'd raised an eyebrow at him.

"Mmm, yes. I do insist."

What a highly convincing argument he made.

"Really, Malfoy, I swear I'm fine. I promise I'm not about to fall into a depressive episode brought on by heartache."

She'd waved a dismissive hand through the air as if she could push him out the door with sheer will.

"Have you no sympathy for my own feelings, Granger? Perhaps it's me who's heartbroken over the dissolution of my best mate's relationship. Theo is a rather whiny sort if you recall."

"Really?" She'd deadpanned, which earned her an eye roll.

"Fine." He paused, considering her with an arch of a dark brow. "Shall I beg?"

"Ooh, you know I do love it when you beg." She'd smiled at him, but he'd only glared back. "Ugh, fine, Malfoy. One drink!"

He'd clapped his hands together, rocking up onto the balls of his feet. “Wonderful, meet you at the lifts at six."

She thought at first it might be improper to spend time outside of work with Draco - but they had done so many times before - while she was still attached to Theo. Times when she ignored how the air felt charged with magic, pretending she didn’t see his eyes following the curves of her waist or feel his hands hovering just above the small of her back as he opened the door for her.

To acknowledge it was to cross the line they had toed so carefully, neither one of them daring to step over.

They had ignored that line as they spent time together on occasional weekend getaways with all their friends, or while she was on Theo’s arm at Ministry hosted galas. On evenings at Nott Manor, sitting by the fire playing wizards chess, ignoring the buzzing on her skin when their fingers brushed as they both reached for the same bottle of firewhisky. One year, they even spent time together at the Quidditch World Cup, which had been nice considering she had been adverse about going in the first place.

Sometimes Draco came to their get-togethers alone, and sometimes he brought beautiful women with him. Hermione would try to ignore the sting, because why should she feel anything besides absolutely joyful that her friend was dating?

“So, Granger," his voice cut through her thoughts, jolting her back into the present. “How’s that poor little heart of yours? Mending?”

She chuckled and met his steely gaze. He was looking at her intensely, scrutinizing her in the way that often caused her thighs to clench involuntarily.

“Hardly. You know I’m fine, I’m starting to think I’m not one for long term relationships, which is fine-”

He tsked at her, running the tip of his finger around the rim of his glass.

“No, it is, really, it is. I’m fine on my own.”

Hermione was used to solitude; to the quiet evenings alone with only her own thoughts to keep her company. In truth, she preferred it to the bustling social life Theo had wanted them to have.

“Perhaps, Granger, you just weren’t with the right bloke.”

“I don’t know”, she said, shifting in her seat. “You’ve been around me long enough. You know how I am. I spend too much time at work trying to save the unsavable, my flat is a constant mess, I don't think I could cook a decent meal to save my own life, and don't even get me started on party planning.” She shuddered at the thought. “Lady Nott just doesn't feel like the title meant for me.”

He hummed in agreement, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing, as he often did before he said something profound.

It was a trait of his she had gotten to learn over their time together. The war had left him cold. She surmised that it was probably necessary to guard oneself when faced with the impossible choices he had been forced to make, but his icy exterior had melted with each case they worked on. Now, his once frigid demeanor towards her was warm, almost welcoming.

“I have been around you for quite some time. Nott is a good man, but perhaps you just need something more. Someone who doesn’t mind that bleeding heart in your chest. Or maybe someone who can afford a dozen or so elves to trail behind you, picking up your mess, and preparing your meals. Running your bath after a long day saving the downtrodden, that sort of thing.”

She glared at him. “I'll refrain from saying what you know I want to say, Malfoy.”

“Yes, yes. STEW and whatnot.” He leaned his chin on his fist, smirking.

“S.P.E.W, Malfoy! S.P.E.W! Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare!”

Draco laughed at her, and a lock of his white blond hair fell onto his forehead. If she just reached across the table, she could push-

“Calm down, Granger. You'll fry your hair off with all that steam coming out of your ears.”

Could one die from blushing too hard?

He fiddled with his sleeves, pushing them up to the elbows so Hermione could spy the edges of his faded dark mark.

“In all seriousness, Theo is an idiot. He is like a brother to me, yes, but I can see you're both going to be happier as friends. He'll mope about for a week or two, then he'll come around. By this time next month, you'll both be on to bigger and better things.”

“Yes, I know, you're probably right.”

His brows rose to his forehead, disappearing behind the hair that he had yet to push back into place. “Say that-”

“Don't even, I'm not repeating it,” she scolded him, though her threat held no real heat. “He's not an idiot, though. He's kind and he has a good heart. His heart just wasn't mine. Not forever, anyways.”

Guilt sank like a rock to the bottom of her stomach.

Forever was such a long time to not be truly happy, to be with someone who didn’t make her skin tingle or her heart swell at the sight of them.

Draco lifted his glass towards her, oblivious to the ache in her chest.

“To finding the one whose heart belongs to you. Forever, that is.”

She tapped her glass to his.

One drink became two, which became three or four, or maybe it was six. Somewhere along the line, her butterbeer had turned to firewhisky and her robes were stripped off and discarded somewhere.

The top button of Draco's (somehow still impeccably wrinkle free… she’d need to ask him about that charm later) white oxford was open. It revealed just a few extra centimeters of skin that she would bet if she stood on her tiptoes, she could-

“Granger, you are truly awful at this game. How is it you grew up with muggles and still manage to be so bad at this?” He grabbed the cue stick from her hands.

He had been trying to teach her wizard's pool, and Hermione, ever the studious woman she was, found his hands on approach to teaching quite invigorating.

“Here, let me show you,” Draco spoke, his voice a low rumble in her ear.

She glanced a look over her shoulder and found him so close she could feel his breath on her cheek.

There was ringing in her ears.

“Draco-” His whispered name came out before she could stop it.

His eyes widened infinitesimally, and she stood frozen as his hand came up to gently twirl a curl around his finger. She was staring at his full lips, watching them part on an exhale…

Oh no. Oh, no no no.

She stepped quickly to the side to avoid leaning back into his chest, the room swaying with her.

“You know what, let me go use the loo quickly. Shall I get us another round on my way back? Firewhisky? Or maybe it’s time to switch to water, I’m rather parched.” She touched the back of her hand to her forehead, trying to force her brain to work and stop her mouth from moving.

Draco shoved both hands in his pockets and took a small step back from her.

“Sure, Granger. I’ll be here.”

She stumbled her way over to the loo. Once inside, the door firmly bolted shut, she looked at her reflection in the mirror hanging over the sink, and her stomach lurched.

What are you doing, Hermione?

She was drunk. Too drunk. He was drunk.

Maybe it was time to go home. If she kept this up, the line that had been blurring between them might vanish, and although she knew her relationship with Theo was over, the thought of hurting him didn’t sit well. She did care for him. He had been a good boyfriend and was still kind to her, not to mention his near brotherhood with Draco.

She could not do this. Couldn’t cross this line, no matter how much her traitorous body wanted to.

Splashing some cold water on her face and glancing up at her reflection once more, she hardened her resolve and left to find Draco so she could politely excuse herself. She’d go home, change into her night clothes, try and probably fail to ignore the aching in her gut, and by Monday morning, all would be back to normal.

She walked back to where she had left him by the pool table, glowing under magically lit neon signs. How did he look so good even under horrid neon lighting? Leaning a hip against the table they occupied, eyes rather glazed and a lazy smirk on his face, Draco watched her approach.

“Granger,” he said in greeting. “How did you fare on your trip to the loo, darling?”

She let out a small laugh. “Exceptionally. Quite the journey, but I’ve made it back in one piece.”

She waved her hand down the length of her body as if to prove it. He hummed in approval, his eyes sliding ever so slowly down to her hips and back up. Hermione took a deep breath.

“Well, this was fun, but I fear if I leave Crookshanks to his own devices for much longer, I’ll come home to scratched curtains, so I’m off.” She met his eyes, searching them for the truth. “Are you alright to apparate home?”

He grabbed his robes and pushed off the table, swaying slightly.

“Mm, yes. I’m capable of returning to my cold and empty ancestral manor on my own, thank you.”

He took a step and stumbled.

Hermione reached out her arm to steady him, rolling her eyes so hard it hurt. “Need I remind you that you warned me not to get sloshed, and yet here you are needing me to take you home."

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m barely even tipsy. However,” he tilted his head from side to side. “If you’d like to extend an offer of goodwill and pop me back home I wouldn’t say no.”

Well, she couldn’t very well leave him here lest he get himself splinched trying to apparate. He gave her a dazzling smile.

Merlin, damn him.

“Let’s go, Malfoy. Let me warn you, though,” she jabbed a finger into his chest. “If you fall in a puddle of mud, don’t you dare blame me for ruining your perfectly starched trousers.”

He grabbed her hand to push it away, brushing the inside of her wrist softly with his thumb before letting go. The contact made her shiver.

“Nonsense. I’m offended you take me as the kind of man who wouldn’t buy quality linen with built in repelling charms. What do you take me for… poor?”

“Foul and pretentious is what you are.”

He threw his head back and laughed.

Double damn him.

"Well, lucky for you, Malfoy, my flat is a few blocks this way. I'd apparate, but we can walk there. You can use my floo… no splinching required." Hermione started towards the exit.

"Ahh, Granger, you're too kind."

"That's kind of my thing, isn't it?" She twisted around to glance back at him, the motion causing her vision to swim.

They made their way out to the street. The cool air felt nice as it hit her face, and they soon fell into a comfortable silence, walking side by side.

"You live close by."

Not a question, a statement.

"Yes, well, it's close to work. The neighborhood isn't the greatest, but the price is right. I'm not overly attached to it; it's really just a place to sleep and contain Crooks."

He nodded absently.

"Malfoy, how come you haven't settled down?" She asked him suddenly, the firewhisky making her bolder than usual. "It's just that we talked so much about Theo, I thought… I would have thought by now you'd have picked one of the girls you'd dated."

He cleared his throat and scratched the stubble on his jaw.

"I'm rather particular, Granger." He looked over at her.

"Yes, petite, blonde, and Pure-blooded. I've seen your particulars." She raised an eyebrow at him. "That doesn't answer the question. I mean, you're wealthy, you're one of the top Aurors in the DMLE, you're not horrid to look at."

"Not horrid? Is that a compliment? Are you complimenting me, Granger?" His eyes sparkled at her, mirth heavy on his tongue.

"Hardly." Hermione took a sudden interest in the architecture of the homes on her side of the street, hoping he couldn’t see her smile.

Draco inhaled deeply, serious again.

"That's what my father would have me choose, yes. But as I've told you, I am particular about who I want. And until I get it, I have no desire to settle down."

"Your parents must be begging you for an heir. I'm surprised they haven't tried marrying you off at this point."

"They have. It did not go in their favor."

She shivered at that and suddenly stopped walking.

"Fiddlesticks. I forgot my robes."

She turned and looked back, assessing how much time it would waste going back for them.

"Here, take mine." He held his robes out to her, and she eyed them wearily. "It's fine, Granger. Really. Firewhisky keeps me warm." He shook his robes in her direction, urging her on.

"Thanks." She took them and draped them over her shoulders, instantly hit with the overwhelming scent of him.

Draco was warm, spicy cinnamon, fresh parchment, and on occasion, tobacco smoke.

All of the things she loved about home, with a sharpened edge.

He smiled at her, a pleased look settling on his face as they continued their walk in silence. After a few more blocks, they arrived at Hermione's flat.

"It's just up here." She motioned for him to follow her inside.

Once she lowered the wards and led them inside, she quickly showed him the way to her floo, hoping desperately he wasn't paying too much attention to the stacks of books lying on every surface, or the lack of decor.

"Thanks for seeing me home safely, Granger.”

“It’s no trouble. Had to come home anyway.”

“You know," he started, taking a slow step towards her. "If this were a date, I'd try to convince you to let me kiss you goodnight."

His head tilted slightly, and he reached out a hand. His thumb brushed her face, ghosting across her lips and onto her cheek.

"Right...here..."

Alarms were blaring in her head, her stomach was doing backflips, and she was sure she would pass out soon from lack of oxygen.

Resisting the urge to lean into his hand and allow him to kiss her anywhere he’d like, she willed herself to clear her throat and steady her voice.

"It’s a good thing this isn't a date, then."

Draco nodded at her once, dropping his hand and his eyes from her face. Turning on his heel, he threw a handful of floo powder into the flames, calling out for Malfoy Manor.

He paused then, the muscles in his back bunched. He spun quickly to her once more and reached out, grabbing her hand. Hermione swayed on her feet as he brought her hand up to his mouth and, without breaking eye contact, pressed his lips gently to her knuckles.

"Goodnight, Hermione."

He stepped through the floo, leaving her standing at the mantle, unable to breathe.

Hermione stood in the same spot for some time, trying to calm her racing heart.

It doesn't mean anything. We're both drunk, and it means nothing. Monday morning, it will all be back to normal, and he’ll have forgotten the whole ordeal.

When she had successfully calmed her heart rate down to a reasonable pace, she set off to change into her bedclothes. She was determined to stick with her plan to forget and pretend she didn't have a tiny, measly, little crush on Draco sodding Malfoy.

Of all people. Honestly...

Pulling out her favorite pair of shorts and her most comfortable worn in t-shirt, she reached to pull her jumper off, only to remember she was currently occupying the sod himself's oversized robes.

Hermione let out a frustrated growl. Okay, this was fine. She would simply owl him in the morning and let him know that she'd bring them with her to work on Monday.

Good. Fine. Great.

She aggressively changed her clothes and picked up his robes to throw on the chair beside her bed, ignoring the strong urge to smell them. In the cruelest twist of fate yet, as she threw his robes to her chair, Draco's wand fell from an inner pocket and clattered across the floor.

Well, fuck.

Determined to end this torturous night, she snatched up both the robes and wand and raced to her floo. She didn't allow herself to think too much of what she was doing as she threw a fistful of powder, called out for Malfoy Manor, and stepped into the flames.

Hermione's landing at Malfoy Manor was less than graceful. She stepped out of the flames and immediately tripped over her own two bare feet, tumbling to the floor, hair flying all around her face, obscuring her view.

"Granger?"

She reached an arm up and flipped the mass of curls away from her eyes. She was in a sitting room of sorts. Black and white marble floors, two dark green velvet wingback chairs framed the fire, a glass table in between them. The walls were lined with dark, heavy drapes, the warm scent of cinnamon hanging in the air.

"Are you alright? It hasn't even been an hour. Did you miss me that much?"

She stood then, brushing the soot off her knees. She spied Draco across the room at a bar cart, glass tumbler in his hand, filled with what she assumed was more firewhisky.

"Malfoy.” She blurted in lieu of greeting. “Yes, I'm fine, thank you. I'm sorry for the intrusion. I realized I still had your robes, and I was just going to wait till Monday to return them to you, but then I realized you left your wand in the pocket. I didn't know if you would know you had left it or would wonder where it went, so I just thought to get it over with and return it to you right away. So… yes. Here you are." She finally paused to breathe, extending his items out to him.

He was staring at her with an odd look on his face, mouth slightly open. When her rambling stopped, he snapped his jaw shut and cleared his throat.

"You could have kept the robes. Looks like you might need them anyway."

She looked at him, puzzled. His eyes travelled down to her chest and quickly flicked back up, brows raised.

Oh.

Oh.

Her nipples were hard and showing through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. She jerked his robes in front of her body, trying to hide. With a snap of his fingers, the flames roared to life, flooding the room with warmth.

Lovely. Perhaps she'd puke right here on his floor and he'd avada her for dirtying the precious stone and then she could die and the mortification would end and...

"Wandless magic? I didn't know you could do wandless magic."

He scratched at the stubble on his jaw. "It's the manor. My magic is tied to the blood wards and ley lines and such, so it allows me to use wandless magic to do certain things. Adjusting the temperature is one of them."

"Oh."

He motioned to the bar cart.

"Can I offer you a drink? I wasn't expecting company, but I can spare some Ogden's if you'd like."

"No, thank you. I've had quite enough for one evening. In fact, my skull feels like it's currently occupied with nargles, and I don't even know what they are. I should be off before I make more of a fool of myself. Let us both hope we forget this ever happened."

He huffed a laugh, dropping his full glass back on the cart.

"Very well, then. Oh, before you go," he walked to stand in front of her. 

From the close distance, she could now see the flush on his cheeks, his eyes were glazed over, and his hair was rumpled as though he had been fussing with it.

“I have a book about the ley lines that tie the manor to the Malfoy magic. If you’re interested in reading about it. The wandless magic, that is. That way you won't be pestering me about it once you sober up."

She opened her mouth to politely decline, then quickly shut it. Of course she was interested; did he forget who she was in his own drunken stupor?

Draco's mouth lifted in a smile, and he laughed, shoulders shaking.

"Of course I haven't forgotten who you are, Granger. Why else would I be offering, if not to try and sate your appetite?"

Had she said that out loud?

"Merlin, I'm sorry. Yes, of course I want the blasted book."

His eyes sparkled.

"Well, come on, then." He led her out to a hallway. "This is my study here," he pointed to a closed door. "A small potions lab here, then down this way are my sleeping quarters. The book is there."

"Wait a moment, the floo connects to your personal wing of the manor? That sounds terribly inconvenient for guests."

"Not all floos."

Any question she may have had floated away from her mind as he opened the gilded door to his sleeping quarters and ushered her inside.

The room was huge, probably three times the size of her own bedroom, and overflowing with opulence.

Her eyes were instantly drawn to her right, where built-in bookshelves ran the length of the room, a fireplace splitting the wall down the middle. The shelves were filled with what must have been hundreds of books, memorabilia, and (unsurprisingly) a framed quidditch jersey, MALFOY printed across the shoulders.

To her left, a door was cracked slightly, opening to what she assumed was his bathroom. A lone wooden armoire sat beside it.

But it was the far wall that was the true focal point of the room. Large windows lined the entire wall, boasting what she was sure to be a stunning view of the manor grounds during the daytime, but for now, they were covered by gauzy white curtains that hung floor to ceiling. And sitting right in the middle was the largest bed she had ever laid eyes upon.

It was piled high with a fluffy cream duvet, several overstuffed throw pillows, and, on the end, a soft knitted blanket.

It was a struggle not to picture Draco in it, preferably naked. Honestly, it was becoming a struggle to think of much at present. The air inside his room smelled so much like him, she thought her brain was short circuiting.

"Here we are,” he plucked a book off a shelf and handed it to her.

She took it, flipping through a few pages before glancing up and meeting his eyes.

"Thanks, Malfoy."

There was a heavy, uncomfortable pause before he spoke again.

"You could stay."

Her heart nearly skipped a beat.

She must have misheard him. She must be so deep in her cups that she was hearing voices in her head.

“What?”

He shuffled his feet and looked at something over her shoulder, shrugging.

"Father is vacationing in Azkaban, mother is off in France with her gal pals for the undetermined future. I'm completely pissed. You're here. Dressed for… bed." He tugged a hand through his hair. "We could just sleep. It's not like we haven't slept under the same roof before."

"Yes, but I was with Theo."

He winced, but took a step closer to her.

"Yes, I know. Come on, Granger. I know you must be lonely, too. Let's just pretend that we aren't for one night." His eyes darted between hers, pleading.

The line was blurring each second she stood here. Her heart was beating so furiously she thought she could hear its thump thump thump in the stretched silence.

The truth was, she was lonely, and if Draco was offering her one night of forgetting, maybe she could. Maybe she could indulge in this forbidden fantasy a little longer.

"You won't make fun of me in the morning?" She asked, her voice much smaller than she'd intended.

Draco pressed a hand to his chest. "Never."

She took a step towards him, and his face melted into what she could only describe as triumph.

"Alright. To sleep."

"I'll be right back.” He extended his hand to take his robes and wand from her, their fingers brushing. “Make yourself comfortable in the meantime."

He walked behind her, closing the gilded door with a near silent click before disappearing into the bathroom.

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and made her way slowly to the mountain of pillows that was his bed. Her hand slid across the duvet, and she had to hold back a moan when she felt how incredibly soft it was. She peeled it back and slipped under it, legs sliding against decadent silk sheets.

Because of course, Draco Malfoy would sleep on acromantula silk sheets.

Holy fuck, she was in Draco Malfoy's bed.

She was trying her damnedest not to panic when Draco strode into the room wearing nothing but boxer briefs, twirling his wand between the fingers of his left hand.

The sight did nothing to help her rising panic.

"Are you not wearing clothes to bed?" She sputtered and averted her gaze.

He looked down at himself.

"I am wearing clothes, Granger. I would ask if you're blind, but that pretty blush I see traveling down your neck tells me your eyes are in working order."

"I just didn't think you'd be practically nude, that's all!" She gaped at him.

"Did you want me to be nude? I can-"

"No! No. Let's just go to sleep."

Hermione didn't need to look to know he was smirking at her.

"As you wish."

She lay back against his (perfectly fluffed and... good Gods, was there a cooling charm on them? What an absolute rich prat to have cooling charmed) pillows.

She heard him set his wand down on the night table beside the bed. He pulled down the covers and slid in next to her. Even from the other side of his ludicrously large bed, she could feel the body heat radiating off of him as he rolled to face her.

"Would it be okay if I touch you?"

She snapped her head in his direction, eyes wide. "Touch me?"

"Calm down, Granger. I would never do anything you wouldn't like or didn't want. Can I lie with you, hold you?"

"Oh." She was already damned, wasn’t she? Hadn’t he touched her plenty of times already, even just tonight? "Okay, yes. That would be nice, I suppose."

He slid towards her and reached out, wrapping an arm around her middle and tugging her into his chest. He breathed deeply and let his hand rest against her lower back.

"This is nice," he mumbled into her hair.

She glanced up at him to find his eyes already closed, dark lashes fanned across his cheeks. His brows were relaxed, the worry lines softened.

He cracked open an eye at her. "Stop staring, Granger, and go to sleep."

Heat prickled the back of her neck.

"Yes, sleep. Sorry.”

She closed her eyes and tried to let the sounds of his breathing lull her into sleep. She tried and tried and tried, but no matter what she did, she could not relax.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when she turned over to face away from him. He grumbled but let her move, and soon his breathing was even and slow again. She wiggled and adjusted her pillow, huffing a great sigh. She twisted her legs a bit to try and get more comfortable.

Draco's hand shot out and gripped her hip, stilling her. He tugged her back against him, her back pressed tight to his chest. Hermione's heart pounded against her chest so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

After a moment, his hand softened on her hip, and he began to trace soothing circles against her. She couldn’t help it, her hips canted back against him on instinct.

Draco's hand faltered for just a moment, as if he wasn’t sure she had meant to do it, and then he continued. Slow, wide circles on her hip.

She tried to stop herself, but she couldn't, and her hips pressed back once again. His hand was steady as it left her hip to slide up the slope of her side and back down.

Again and again. Hermione's chest rising and falling rapidly. Another brush of his hand on her side, this time his fingers tightened on her hip and pressed her back against him. She let out a small sigh and let herself lean against his chest. Hermione could feel his heart against her back thumping as fast as her own. He pressed her back again, and she felt the hard length of him press against her.

"Oh-” She gasped softly into the dark.

It was as though the single word leaving her mouth caused something in him to snap. She turned her head over her shoulder to look at him, but before she could turn all the way, his lips were crashing down onto hers.

The first and only thought she had was that his lips were even softer than she'd imagined them to be. His hand left her hip and instead cupped her face, turning her towards him to deepen the kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth, tasting like firewhisky and every darkest desire she had.

Hermione turned her body fully towards him, letting him pull her close. Her hands pressed against his chest and roamed the expanse of his muscles. She slid down his ribs and around to his back, and he groaned deeply against her mouth.

"Draco..."

He stiffened. "Say it again."

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

"Please," he begged. "Say my name like that again."

"Draco," she whispered, allowing the single word to come out sounding as needy as she felt.

He groaned and gripped her face with both hands. He slipped his tongue back into her mouth, pushing her head to angle her the way he wanted, allowing him greater access to her mouth and neck.

Desire was pulsing through her, her hips grinding frantically into his, seeking friction. Seeking more.

“I’ve wanted this, wanted you for so long.” His words were whispered, his hands large and warm, sliding up over her ribs and ghosting the underside of her breasts.

Anticipation and panic simmered just below her skin. Could they cross this line? What would happen if she let this continue?

Draco’s mouth left hers, and he peppered kisses to her jaw, down her neck, and over her pulse. He nipped lightly with his teeth and kissed away the small hurt. His fingers tangled into her hair, tugging her head back as he kissed and sucked at the sensitive flesh under her ear.

“Draco,” she mewled, pulling his head back so she could look at him. “If we do this, everything changes. I can’t- I can’t just- it has to mean something. You mean something to me.”

“I’ve tried,” his eyes were hooded as they trailed the features on her face. “I’ve tried to push it away. Tried to not want you, but I can’t do it any longer. Let me show you how much I’ve wanted you.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Let me make you mine, Hermione. I want you to be mine.”

At the sound of her name, the little resolve she had remaining cracked.

“Okay. Yes. Yes, Draco.”

His eyes darkened, and he lunged for her.

His mouth came down on hers, tongue sliding against her lips, silently asking for entrance once again. She obliged happily and kissed him back with fervor. He moaned low, hands fisted in her curls. Hermione’s hands scrambled to grab any bit of him she could reach, moaning and arching into his kiss.

He felt so good, their magic crackling and leaving her skin searing where his hands roamed. Draco mapped her body, fingers ghosting along every curve, down every dip and valley. Up her neck to softly grip her jaw and back down to her hips again. He pushed the hem of her shirt up and sighed into her mouth as his thumbs brushed over her nipples.

His mouth replaced his hands, his tongue swirling around her nipple and taking it into his mouth. Hermione ran her fingers through the soft, fine hair on the back of his neck, her skin on fire as she gripped his head, keeping him close.

The pressure of his large body on top of hers felt like some sort of divinity, a heavenly weight that fit perfectly against her.

Draco switched to her other breast, his fingers replacing where his mouth had been.

“You’re perfect. So perfect.” He mumbled against her skin.

“Don’t stop, please…please.”

He hummed, teeth grazing over her nipple. “You don’t know what it does to me to hear you beg.” Draco sat up on his knees and slid his hands under the waistband of her shorts. “Lift.”

She did as he asked, and he slid her shorts down her legs, tossing them to the side before running his hands back up her thighs slowly. He leaned to place a kiss to the inside of her knee.

“Do you know how many times I’ve seen your knees?” He asked, his eyes still following his hands as they smoothed a path up and down the inside of her thighs. “Every time I've seen you in one of those Godsdamned skirts you fancy, all I could think about was these knees pressed to either side of me, these thighs around my waist. And this-”

He trailed off while his thumb gently slid under the edge of her knickers, teasing her. Hermione was sure she was dripping by now, and she knew he could see the wet spot over her center through the silky fabric. Her hips bucked, seeking more of his touch.

“-Soaking wet cunt taking all of my cock like the good girl I know you are. Will you be a good girl for me tonight, Hermione?”

“Yes. Yes, I promise. Please, Draco,” she nodded quickly. “Please, just touch me.”

He took a deep breath, chest expanding as he filled his lungs.

“I will, darling. In fact, why don’t you show me just how good you can be?” His thumbs slipped under the band of her knickers and tugged, sliding them down her thighs. Pulling them off, he brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply. “So sweet. These are mine now, just like you are.”

Hermione’s mouth dropped open, cheeks heating with embarrassment. No one had ever-

"Stop thinking so much, Hermione. I can practically hear the gears turning in that big brain of yours. Just let me."

He tossed her knickers to the ground. When he parted her thighs and bent low, all thoughts of embarrassment dissipated.

Two fingers ran the length of her slit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her. He parted her and ran his tongue along the same path. Hermione’s hips lifted and pressed to his mouth with a groan.

“Oh fuck," she whined. "Finally."

His tongue swirled up, and his lips closed on her clit, sucking softly. Sparks flew in Hermione’s vision.

“Oh gods, Draco-”

“There are no gods here." He lapped at her again. "Only me.”

Her back arched off the mattress, head falling back and pressing into the pillow.

Draco slowly slid his middle and ring fingers back down to her entrance. He released her clit to whisper open for me before twisting his wrist and pressing them inside her. A strangled moan tore from her throat, and he let out a low hiss.

“That’s it, baby. Yes.”

His fingers curled up and pressed against the spongy spot that made her toes curl. His tongue flicked slowly, almost lazily, over her, causing her thighs to tremble. A heady tension was coiling inside her, building and building until she felt as though she might splinter into pieces around him.

“Come on, baby. Show me how pretty you can come for me." She looked down at him to find his eyes already on hers. "Give me what I want, Granger."

All at once, it was too much. The blinding pressure that had built low in her core snapped, spots erupting behind her eyes. His touch, his voice, the delicious way he was coaxing her… she couldn’t stop the orgasm as it rolled through her.

She twisted and moaned, her hands pressing into his shoulders. To push him away or pull him back, she wasn't sure. All the while, he mumbled praise into her, slowing his ministrations as he floated her back down to earth.

“Good girl, such a good fucking girl. I knew you’d be good for me.” He pressed a kiss to her hip and slipped his fingers out. She gasped at the feeling of emptiness that was left in their wake.

Draco sat up and ran his hands along her thighs. She gazed up at him, looking at her with a lazy smirk on his face, lips and chin shining with the remnants of her orgasm.

His body could have been carved from marble, honed from years of hard work and constant duelling. Wide shoulders that tapered down to his narrow waist. His long fingers on her hip were pressed into her skin so gently, though she knew just how strong they could be.

Their eyes met, a blush quickly blooming over her face.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Oh, darling, I’m not done with you yet.” He nodded down at her, “Take that top off.”

Her blush deepened, but she did as he asked, tossing it aside with the rest of her clothing as he sat back in his heels to strip off his boxer briefs. He wrapped his fist around his thick length, stroking himself slowly, eyes never leaving hers.

“Don’t move.”

He grabbed his wand off the side table and placed the tip of it against her lower belly. He spoke lowly, and when her skin began to glow a faint pink, she knew he had cast a contraception charm.

A lump had begun to form in Hermione’s throat. She was tired of waiting, tired of pretending she didn’t want him as badly as she did. She leaned up onto her elbows and pulled him down on top of her, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Their lips crashed together once again, but their kiss was different this time. It was desperate and urgent, like he was as starved for her touch as she was for his.

He released her suddenly and pushed her back to lie against a pillow. He pressed her knees apart and lined his cock up with her entrance, pressing forward just slightly, until the swollen tip of him disappeared.

Draco's hand came to her throat, gripping it firmly.

"Is this what you want, Hermione?"

She nodded as best she could with his fingers wrapped around the column of her neck.

“I need to hear you say it. Say you want me to fuck you, say it’s my cock you want inside you."

"I-I want you, Draco. I want you to fuck me."

He rolled his hips forward, pushing himself in halfway, and they groaned in unison at the stretch.

“Fuck. I’ve waited so long to be inside you.”

Her eyes rolled back in her head, the now familiar tension twisting low inside her, stretching and pulling like a rubber band. Draco rolled his hips again, stretching her to fit himself inside her, the sting bordering on painful. Another roll of his hips and he bottomed out inside her, hissing as he did.

He stilled for just a moment, allowing her to adjust to the size of him. Their eyes locked on each other, magic swirling in the air around them.

And then, finally, he began to move.

Draco pulled her legs around his waist as he began to thrust into her slowly, each drag of his cock inching her closer to oblivion. She tensed around him, her inner walls fluttering.

“Draco, oh, I think I’m close again.”

She felt the growl in his chest before she heard it. He pressed his face to the side of her neck, pace faltering before picking back up again, faster and harder this time.

He fucked her hard into the mattress, the obscene sound of their bodies coming together filling the room. One of his hands slithered down from her neck to her breast, fingers pinching her nipple lightly.

“Yes,” she squeezed her eyes shut, nails pressing crescent shapes into the skin on his shoulders. "Just like that, fuck."

Draco reached out and grabbed the back of her head roughly, tilting her up.

“Open your eyes.”

She opened her eyes just enough to meet his. His pupils were blown wide, almost no silver left in them. He tugged her head down.

“Look at us.”

Hermione’s eyes flicked down to where their bodies met, and she couldn’t stop the moan that fell from her lips. He pulled out halfway, cock shining from her arousal, before slamming back into her fully.

“Look at how good you take me. How fucking perfect we fit together. You belong to me. You were fucking made for me.”

Her eyes fell closed, and the world started to tilt. “Yes-”

“Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“Yours,” she breathed out. “Always yours.”

The world shifted its axis, taking Hermione over the edge of oblivion. The only thing steadying her was his shoulders underneath her hands.

He thrust into her one, two, three more times before he buried his face in her hair, exhaling with a long groan. She felt him pulse, buried as deep as he could go as he emptied himself inside her.

They drifted back down together, holding onto each other tightly. Draco leaned up slowly and slid out of her with a grunt, rolling off to the side. He pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her and smoothing a hand over her hair.

“Draco, I-”

“Shh.” Cupping her face, he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Rest now. We can talk in the morning.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the lingering effects of the firewhisky or the fact that her body was completely sated and her bones possibly turned to jello, but Hermione drifted off easily into a dreamless sleep.

She woke several hours later to sunbeams filtering through the large windows and Draco sleepily nuzzling her neck, his cock greedily nudging her from behind.

He caressed and kissed her languidly before pushing her legs apart and slipping inside her. He made love to her slow and soft, whispering devotions and praise into her ear.

When the last of their passion had been rung from them, he turned her body to face him. She traced the features of his face with her fingertips, not ready to forget even the tiniest details. Not ready to stop pretending this wasn't what she had always wished for.

“Are you feeling okay, darling?”

“Mmm, yes. I’m a bit sore and my head is aching, but otherwise I feel wonderful.”

“I can ask the elves to bring you something to help, as well as some breakfast. You should eat.”

“Malfoy," she groaned. “Please don’t tell me you still keep elves.”

“Oh, it’s Malfoy again, is it?” He teased, pinching her hip. “The elves are freed, of course. I pay them a hearty wage, and they can choose to stay here at the manor or go. You should know they are exceptionally happy here, and they will be quite pleased to take care of you as well.”

She eyed him wearily but decided against further arguing, her head hurt enough as it was. Besides, as much as it pained her, they really did need to talk about last night.

“We really should talk about this. I mean, this changes things between us. I don't think I can do this again if you weren't serious about us.”

“Is it what you want? Us, together?”

“Yes,” she replied quickly. “Very much so.”

“Good,” he smiled and nuzzled her cheek. "It’s what I want, too. I’ve wanted it for a long time. After all, why do you think I took the job at the DMLE?”

She looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean? You had no choice, I thought your probation required it?”

“I am a very rich man, darling, you said so yourself. I have enough money to tempt even the most sturdy seat on the Wizengamot.”

He traced the column of her throat, stopping over her racing pulse.

“Are you saying that you... paid off the Wizengamot to get yourself acquitted?”

“I wanted to be close to you, and I made it so. I can make anything I want to happen, happen. Surely you have to know that.”

Her stomach dropped, mind reeling

“It's alright, darling,” he cooed. “It's all settled now, everything is fine. I told you, I've wanted you for so long.”

“I thought the flirting was just innocent. I didn’t think it meant anything. And then Theo…” She trailed off.

“Yes, Theo was a hurdle,” he sighed. “But, I knew it would take time for me to earn your trust, your respect. Time to show you all I could give you, what you could have if you chose me. You have to know how hard I worked to repair the Malfoy name. Even harder to repair my own name and become a well respected Auror. Lucky for us, with my father indisposed, I am Lord of the manor. I alone control the wards and magic here on the estate. I choose who comes in and who goes out; the manor answers only to me. Now I have not only all the galleons we could ever need, but also the protection of the manor's wards, and the status of my name, as well. I can keep you safe here with me and give you your every heart's desire. I knew once I got Theo out of the way, you'd be mine.” His eyes were soft when they met hers. “I didn’t mind waiting. Not for you.”

Hermione’s body felt paralysed.

“Draco, you never told me… your trial… I…” She sputtered. "What did you…”

”What’s wrong, darling? Cat got your tongue?” She could feel his smile as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “The game is over now, I win. And you are all mine.”

***

Chapter Text

I weigh out my options and come to a decision. Tonight is the night, I’ve waited long enough, and now nothing is standing in my way. All my years of hard work have boiled down to this. I am going to get what I want, and what I want, is the Golden Girl.

For five long years, I have worked tirelessly. Brick by brick, I’ve built the empire I know I deserve, the one that could be worthy of her, one she can’t say no to. I used every scrap of power and personal favors left to the Malfoy name after dear old Dad nearly destroyed it, cashed it all in to buy myself a ‘get out of jail free’ card.

The deal of a lifetime, really.

My vaults run so deep I could pay off the entire Wizengamot and then some without even making a dent. I’d do it too, twice over even, as long as it got me what I wanted.

I bought myself a nice cozy job right alongside my Golden Girl.

Together, right where we should be.

She’s smart and wildly good at her job, so it’s no surprise she gave me a run for my money. I had to work my arse off to keep up with her, but now we both sit at the top. We work together on cases, and I give her the ability to apprehend criminals, making the world a better place, just like she wanted.

I get a front row seat to her personal life, which I’ve made sure to be a part of. I even made sure to introduce her to my mate Theo. He did a nice job of keeping her busy and safe for me while I got my affairs in order.

All of it, everything I’ve done, has all been for her. For us.

Back at Hogwarts, she was always too good for me. No matter what I did, she refused to give me the time of day. Looks of disgust and a sucker punch to the nose, yes, but nothing I did could get her to keep her eyes on me. She always had her nose stuck in a book, devouring all the knowledge she could possibly stuff into that big brain of hers, or traipsing all of Great Britain with Scarhead and his sidekick Weasel.

I can’t for the life of me figure out what she saw in that oaf, even going so far as to date him. The thought of his lips on hers makes my eye twitch. She came to her senses quite quickly with him, thank Merlin.

My Hermione deserves better. She deserves someone who really loves her. She deserves… me. At Hogwarts, she could ignore me all she wanted, but now… now she has no choice but to pay attention to me.

I open the door to her office, and she’s sitting at her desk working on some paperwork. She immediately looks up at me, those big brown eyes roaming over my face.

Good. Keep your eyes on me.

She looks incredible, as she always does. She’s wearing one of my favorite cream colored jumpers. It hugs her curves in all the right places, and I know from experience it’s incredibly soft. Which is good because she should always be comfortable.

I’ve got to talk her into coming out with me tonight. Once I know we’ll be together, I can figure out my next course of action. She’s been back on the market for nearly twenty-four hours, and I’m not wasting any more time.

I was able to get Theo to hightail it to one of his villas in Italy to ‘decompress’, so I know for sure he won’t be a problem. She tries to wave me off, saying she feels fine. I have to get a little creative, but that’s alright.

“Ooh, you know I do love it when you beg,” she says to me with a saccharine smile.

Now all I can think about is her on her knees, using my given name while looking up at me with those big eyes. Begging me to please take my cock out and fuck her face.

Oh no, Granger. I won’t be the one begging by the time this day is through.

Nevertheless, she concedes. And now it’s time for me to get to work.

I leave her office and spend the rest of the day pacing my own. I get no ministry work done, but that’s perfectly fine. I’m about to win the metaphorical fucking lottery.

Still, I’ve got to be careful about this, got to play my cards right.

I know exactly what I’ll do. In all the years I’ve known my sweet Hermione, there’s nothing that loosens her up like a bit of alcohol. How many times had we been to a boring event where she had to schmooze some Ministry higher up who, quite frankly, treated her like she wasn’t a fucking war hero?

I’d seen her throw back her share of champagne flutes and end the night tipsy and gorgeously flushed. Those were always the nights she’d let me touch her arm, or steal her from Theo for a dance. I knew once her eyes went glossy, she’d start throwing me those cheeky looks from across the room, biting her lip.

Fucking minx.

I’m going to take her out, and I’m going to get her nice and loosened up. I’m going to tell her how much better off she is without that tosser, and then I’m going to make her mine.

She’s had plenty of time now to see how much better I am for her. I am the best at my job, and I am absolutely loaded. I care about her feelings, too, of course. I want to make sure all her needs are taken care of, but what is most important is that I’m a fucking Malfoy. That name means something again. It means I have power and authority.

I meet her at the lifts at exactly six o’clock. My skin practically tingles when I see her walking towards me. Her hair is bouncing all around her face, her legs look incredible, cased in the brown trousers she’s got on.

Her smile is bright and her eyes are looking at only me.

“Granger, darling. Ready for our night on the town?”

She arches an eyebrow, crossing her arms across her chest, and I have to focus so my eyes don’t wander to her barely visible cleavage.

“I agreed to exactly one drink and one drink only. Have you forgotten the World Cup? You practically had to carry me out of there. I’m pretty sure Gin nicknamed that night something ridiculous like ‘The Incident’.”

How could I forget? The feeling of her body pressed against mine as I helped her back to her tent. My arm was around her shoulders, keeping her steady, her face rubbing against my chest. She had tilted her head and looked up at me through her lashes. I could count the freckles on her nose. The sight of her freckles alone got me off for nearly two weeks. It was so good I almost forgot I was bringing her back to a tent she was sharing with my best pal, Theo.

Fucker.

I laugh at her because she has no idea.

“Trust me, I could never forget the ‘Great Quidditch Incident of 2001’.” I throw her a cheeky grin. “Come on, you great swot, after you.”

We take the lifts up and out onto the street. From there, the pub is just a brisk fifteen-minute walk. It’s hidden in between alleyways, disillusioned from the eyes of muggles. Far enough away from any floos, but close enough to where I know Hermione keeps a flat.

We get inside, and I start feeding her drinks, asking her how she’s feeling, telling her exactly how much better off she is. I tell her that if she belonged to me, I would make sure she was taken care of, I’d have my elves waiting on her hand and foot. I make her laugh, and the sight makes my stomach flip.

Gods, she’s so beautiful. I just want to make her happy.

I make sure to keep the drinks flowing, and she decides she wants to play pool. She claims she knows what she’s doing, but she’s absolutely awful.

That’s okay, my love. You can’t be good at everything.

All things considered, I don’t mind very much. We can play all night if she likes. She’s bending and stretching to hit the pool balls, her tiny fingers gripping the cue stick far too firmly. Every time she leans over to shoot, her trousers pull tight over her arse. Sometimes her jumper lifts a little, and I catch a glimpse of skin. I swear, I could kiss her seamstress.

I’m getting too distracted now. I watch her for a few moments and decide it’s time to test things out, see if she’s amenable to me making my move.

I pull the cue stick from her hands and turn to stand behind her. I get as close as I can without actually touching her. I already know when I’m this close, I’m going to get a whiff of her shampoo. It’s vanilla. She hasn’t changed shampoos since fourth year.

“Here, let me show you,” I lean down so she can feel just how close I am to her.

Her head turns, and those big brown eyes are looking right up at me. Her mouth opens and…

“Draco…”

She whispers my given name, and although I’ve heard it a handful of times over the years, it still makes my cock twitch. I can’t control myself as I reach out and touch one of the curls that has fallen around her face. I’m staring right at her lips, thinking of how many times I can watch them form the syllables of my name before I’m fully hard, when she steps away from me in a panic.

She's rambling about going to the loo, and I know I’ve gone too fast. She’s so skittish. Doesn’t she know I’d be good to her?

“Sure, Granger. I’ll be here.”

I make a show of putting my hands away and stepping back so she knows I’m not going to hurt her. I would never. I love her.

She scampers off, and I’m left trying to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do now. I had thought that if I could get her to kiss me, she’d let me in. But now I’m worried she’s going to try and leave. She did say one drink, and it’s been at least four by now.

I think fast and come up with a plan. I shove her robes underneath the bench she was sitting on, making sure my wand is tucked into the inner pocket of my own. I’m starting to sweat, but my plan is solid.

I think.

I let my hip lean casually against the table, and before long, she’s walking to me again.

I’ll never get over the sight of her walking towards me. In a room full of people, Hermione Granger is walking to me. I don’t even have to try; I know the smile I give her is genuine.

“Granger. How did you fare on your trip to the loo, darling?” I make sure my eyes go hooded.

She laughs at me like we’re sharing a private joke.

“Exceptionally. It was quite the journey, but I’ve made it back in one piece.” Her hand waves down the length of her body.

Well, if she wants me to look, then look I shall.

She watches me appreciate her body, from the top of her chestnut curls, all the way down to her delicate ankles. My eyes land back on hers, and she blushes so pretty for me. She asks if I’m able to apparate home, and I grab my robes, making sure to stumble a bit so she thinks I’m worse off than I am.

“Mm, yes. I’m capable of returning to my cold and empty ancestral manor on my own, thank you.”

She looks ready to scratch my eyes out.

“Need I remind you that you warned me not to get sloshed, yet here you are needing me to take you home.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m barely even tipsy.” This much is true. “However… If you’d like to extend an offer of goodwill and pop me back home, I wouldn’t say no.”

Take the bait, Granger.

I can see her mind working, trying to decide what to do. When she lets out an exhale, I know I’ve got her. We joke, and I think about how much I love being with her.

She’s like standing in sunlight, and I can never get enough.

She pokes a finger at me, and I take the opportunity to touch her. Her skin is always so soft.

We leave the pub and head towards her flat. I already know where she lives, but I let her lead me. I’ve never been inside, and the thought of being in the place where she sleeps makes my heart beat a little faster.

“Malfoy, how come you haven't settled down?"

Shit.

"It's just that we talked so much about Theo, I thought… I would have thought by now you'd have picked one of the girls you'd dated."

How do I say ‘I only want you’ without saying it?

“I'm rather particular, Granger.”

Good enough.

“Yes, petite, blonde, and Pure-blooded. I’ve seen your particulars.”

Look, Granger, blonds really aren’t my thing. And I couldn’t give two shits about the blood that runs in their veins, or yours for that matter. I only kept those bints around to make you jealous, to help remind you of what you could have.

“That doesn't answer the question. I mean, you're wealthy, you're one of the top Aurors in the DMLE, you're not horrid to look at.”

Oh, really now?

“Not horrid? Is that a compliment? Are you complimenting me, Granger?” I say it jokingly, but I’m searching her face for the truth.

“Hardly,” she replies. She turns her face away, and I think I see her blush.

She asks me about my parents, and I really don’t want to get into it. I don’t need her finding out how I threatened to dispose of any bride they forced upon me before an heir could be conceived. I had, very dramatically, gone into graphic detail about the disposing bit. Not really much of a bedtime story.

I see her shiver a little.

“Fiddlesticks. I forgot my robes.”

Bingo.

“Here, take mine.” I hold them out for her to take. If I put them on for her, I’m afraid I’ll touch her.

It takes a little convincing, but she takes them and puts them on. I love when she lets me take care of her.

We make it to her flat, and my eyes can’t move fast enough as I try to memorize every surface I see. Books, of course. So many books. And it smells like I’ve dumped a cauldron full of Amortentia all over the floor. I think I might actually be drunk off the smell of it.

Fuck firewhisky, give me this.

Maybe that’s why I do it. Maybe the fumes have gone to my head. I tell her how I’d like to kiss her goodnight. She lets me touch her face, show her right where I’d put my lips if she let me.

“It’s a good thing this isn’t a date, then.”

You really know how to wound a man, Granger.

One step forward, two back. But I can’t help myself. I can smell her all over, and I know somewhere in this flat is her favourite mug, the pillow she lies her head on, every scrap of her is inside these walls. She is everywhere, and I have to kiss her.

I turn around and grab her hand. I bring it up to my lips, watching her face and begging her silently to just let me do this. I kiss her knuckles and successfully suppress a moan before it comes out.

“Goodnight, Hermione.”

Her jaw is hanging open when I step through the floo. I land in my sitting room, and I’m not sure if I need to curse someone, break something, or have a wank, but I don’t want to leave the room. If everything works out, she’ll figure out she’s got my wand, and if I know her as well as I think I do, she’ll be here to return it in no time.

My fingers are tugging at my hair when I decide to have a drink and try to chill the fuck out. I’m pacing the floor and watching for green flames.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Drink. Pace. Drink. Pace.

Green flames.

Fucking finally.

Hermione tumbles into the room, tripping over her bare feet. I quickly realize I’ve been blessed by all the Gods, old and new, because she’s in practically nothing.

I know that we’re talking to each other, but all I can do is stare at her nipples, which are poking through her shirt. If I don’t close my mouth, I’m going to drool on myself.

“You could have kept the robes. Looks like you might need them anyway.”

She has the nerve to look at me confused. Has she really got no bloody idea what she’s doing to me?

I allow myself one indulgent second to look at her tits before she covers them up.

Pity.

I snap my fingers, and the fire roars to life. That should keep her warm. She asks about my wandless magic, and my brain starts to go into overdrive. All I’ve got to do is get her to my bedroom.

“Can I offer you a drink? I wasn't expecting company, but I can spare some Ogden's if you'd like.”

“No, thank you. I've had quite enough for one evening. In fact, my skull feels like it's currently occupied with nargles, and I don't even know what they are. I should be off before I make more of a fool of myself. Let us both hope we forget this ever happened.”

Ah ah ah, not so fast.

“Oh, before you go, I have a book about the ley lines that tie the manor to the Malfoy magic. If you’re interested in reading about it. The wandless magic, that is. That way you won't be pestering me about it once you sober up.”

I’m standing next to her now, and I know it feels as if I’m dangling a treat right in front of her face. She opens her mouth, then quickly shuts it like she’s warring with herself.

“Did he forget who I am or something?” She’s talking to herself.

“Of course I haven't forgotten who you are, Granger. Why else would I be offering, if not to try and sate your appetite?” I’m unsure if the innuendo lands.

“Merlin, I'm sorry. Yes, of course I want the blasted book.”

“Well, come on then.”

Yes, do hurry up, dear. If I could skip down the hall to my bedroom, I would.

“Wait a moment, the floo connects to your personal wing of the manor? That sounds terribly inconvenient for guests.”

I flinch. I can’t look at her as I say, “Not all floos.”

No need to tell her how I’ve made it so that the only floo that comes here to my quarters is hers. So that if I ever need to get to her quickly, I can. If she ever decides she needs me, she can come right to me. The wandless magic of Malfoy Manor is quite useful, indeed.

Now she’s standing in my room. Looking like this is where she was always meant to be. She looks around, taking note of all my things. The windows that show off my mother's gardens, my bookshelf that has nearly every book she could want.

That’s not true, but I don’t have time to show her the library right now. I’ll save that for another day.

A quick vision flits through my mind, and I see her in my library, running over to me and throwing her arms around my neck. Telling me how much she loves me and how happy she is here.

One day, chérie. One day.

I see her look over at my bed, and a look of longing flashes in her eyes. My heart is about to fall out of my chest.

I grab the book I told her about off my shelf and hand it to her. I hope she doesn’t notice the tremor in my hands. She thanks me quietly, and then there is a lull.

I might throw up.

Fuck it.

“You could stay.”

Her eyes snap to mine. I think she pales a bit.

“What?”

Fuckfuckfuck.

I start rambling. Listing reasons why she should stay. She mentions Theo. Fucking Theo.

“I know you must be lonely, too. Let's just pretend that we aren't for one night.”

Please, Granger. Say yes. Just say yes.

“You won't make fun of me in the morning?”

I want to ask her why I would ever do that, but the fewer words I say right now, the better.

“Never.”

A breath, and she steps forward.

“Alright. To sleep.”

What a good fucking girl you are.

I tell her to get comfortable, and I head to my closet. Testosterone is pumping through my veins at rapid speed, so I decide to go all the way. I strip off my clothes and head back out in only my boxer briefs. I twirl my wand around to give my hands something to do.

She shrieks at the sight of me and turns her face away. She’s so sweet, acting all innocent. If only she could see the filthy things we get up to in my mind.

But, that’s fine. Her prudish nature gives me a few moments to appreciate the sight of my Golden Girl in my bed. I’ve had so many fantasies of this moment.

I drop my wand on the night table and slip into bed beside her. I ask her if it’s ok if I hold her. Her eyes go wide, but she lets me. I pull her close and… Sweet Salazar. If there’s a Heaven I’m residing in it.

“This is nice,” I say.

I could do this forever. Lying here, with my girl in my arms.

“Stop staring, Granger, and go to sleep.”

Otherwise, neither of us is going to be sleeping.

She closes her eyes, and I let myself relax. I drift off to sleep, but I can feel her moving around, trying to get comfortable. She’s huffing and twitching, and if she’s not careful, she’s going to find out what all that wiggling is doing to me.

After some time, she pulls away from me and turns around. I’m loath to let her go, but I do. More time passes, she adjusts herself again, and I think I’ve had just about enough.

I snatch her around the waist and tug her to my chest.

“Oof-” she gives a little noise of surprise.

I rub my hand on her waist to try and calm her. I don’t want to scare her; I just want her to rest and be comfortable here with me. Another minute or so of my petting her, and she rocks her hips back into me.

I still. Maybe I imagined it, but after another beat of stillness she does it again, and my heart threatens to give out on me. A third time, and now I’m teetering on the edge. I tug her back, and I know she can feel my cock pressed into her back.

“Oh-” her little whisper in the dark.

Her head starts to turn towards me, and I can’t hold myself back any longer. I don’t even let her turn around before I grab at her face and press my mouth against hers.

I’m kissing her, shoving my tongue in her mouth and grabbing for any part of her I can reach. Her tiny hands are touching me, rubbing against my chest, down and around to my back. She's pulling me closer to her like she wants this, wants me just as much as I want her.

She’s warm, and real, and soft… so fucking soft.

My hands are in her hair. I’ve touched her hair so many times, but somehow it feels different when I’m wrapping it around my fist and using it to tug her head back so I can move my mouth down her neck. I’m licking the skin just under her ear, and she’s moaning and writhing against me.

“Draco…”

As if my cock wasn’t hard enough.

“Say it again,” I know I said I wouldn’t beg, but I’d give just about anything to hear her moan my name like that again. “Please. Say my name like that again.”

She does, and I’m done for.

She tries to tell me she’s unsure. That things will change if she lets me do this, but that’s exactly what I want.

I tell her how much I want her. I can’t keep it in anymore. Not when she’s grinding against me and making those breathy little moans into the hollow of my mouth.

“Let me make you mine, Hermione. I want you to be mine.”

I look into her eyes and let her choose. I should tell her if she says yes that there is no going back, but I’ve already said enough.

“Okay. Yes. Yes, Draco.”

My blood sings.

I set to finding and putting my mouth on any bit of skin I can. I shove her flimsy shirt out of the way, and I finally see those glorious tits that have been teasing me for years. I lick and suck at them until she’s practically whining.

“You’re perfect. So perfect.” I tell her.

“Don’t stop, please…please.”

Have mercy.

“You don’t know what it does to me to hear you beg,” I tell her because now I’m thinking about strapping her hands to my headboard and edging her until she's delirious. Begging me and offering me anything I want if I’ll just please let her come.

Anything. What would I do with anything?

I decide I have to find out what she tastes like.

I take off the tiny bit of fabric she calls sleep shorts, and I'm greeted with the sight of pretty pink silk knickers. There’s even a little bow right at the top, like a present wrapped up just for me. I slide my thumb across the junction of her thigh and under the edge of the silk. My fingers are itching to see what’s under that wet spot she made for me.

I realize I’m talking to her. Telling her all my secrets.

Well, not all of them.

“Will you be a good girl for me tonight, Hermione?” I ask.

Her head nods with enthusiasm. “Yes. Yes, I promise. Please Draco. Please just touch me.”

It’s like she knows that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.

“I will, darling. In fact, why don’t you show me just how good you can be?”

I do something I’ve only ever dreamed of doing. I slip her knickers off and bring them to my nose.

Absolutely divine.

I watch the embarrassment flicker across her face, and I remind her of what I need from her. To stop thinking and just submit to me, let me take care of her.

I slide down her body, and my fingers finally touch her cunt. She’s soaking wet for me and lifting her hips towards my face.

Patience, darling.

My fingers part her, and I get my first taste. Her fingers tangle in my hair and hold me close. The knowledge that she wants me is causing so much blood to run south, I’m in danger of passing out.

“Oh gods, Draco!”

Oh, my sweet girl…

I remove my mouth from her long enough to remind her, “There are no gods here. Only me.”

That causes her to practically levitate off the bed.

That's it, darling. It’s just you and me here, and nothing and no one is going to stop it now.

I push two fingers inside her delicious cunt, and right away she’s squeezing and clenching down on them. Her chin is tilted up to the Heavens, eyes squeezed shut. I can tell she’s close; it’s probably been so long since anyone has been able to touch her the way I can.

“Come on, baby.” I coax her orgasm just a little closer. “Show me how pretty you can come for me. Give me what I want, Granger.”

Her cunt spasms, walls fluttering and gripping my fingers as she comes all over my hand.

I’m in awe at the sight before me. She is a goddess.

“Oh fuck yes, so perfect. Just like that, baby.”

She thanks me, and I need to be inside her.

My hand reaches out for my wand, and I press the tip of it into the soft skin of her belly, just below her navel. There is a fraction of a second where I consider what I’m about to do, consider if I want to do it at all.

The thought of filling her up completely, watching her belly grow as my heir grows inside of her, crosses my mind.

But tonight is about earning her trust, proving to her that I’m a man of my word. So as much as it pains me, I cast the contraception charm, watching the rosy glow fill the space between our bodies.

The next thing I know, she’s fully bare before me and my hand is wrapped around her throat, squeezing gently. I need to know without a doubt that she is choosing me, that she knows it's my cock that is about to fill her. She tries to nod her head, but it's not enough. I need to hear the words from her pretty mouth. That it's no one else. Just me, the way it should have always been.

“I-I want you, Draco. I want you to fuck me.”

I push inside of her, rolling my hips forward, and I can’t hold back the sound I make to save my life. I try to fuck her slowly, just allow myself to enjoy the feeling of my cock stretching her tight little cunt, but she’s moaning and pressing her legs around me.

I can’t believe this is real, that I’m finally inside her. I’ve waited for so long. I fuck her hard and fast; I’ll savor the moment next time. She tells me she’s mine, that I get to own her now.

I make her come again since she was such a good girl for me, before I push myself up as far as I can go and empty inside her. My orgasm throttles through me, and I see nothing but wide brown eyes and freckles, feel her nails digging into the skin on my shoulders.

I pull out reluctantly and tug her close, watching as she drifts off to sleep. Her hair is spread out around us, hands pressed to my chest. The scent of our sex lingers in the air, and I wish I could bottle it.

I wonder about how easy it would be to acquire a Pensieve so I could relive this night over and over again. Maybe one day, if she were cross with me, I could force her to watch my memory of this so she remembers just how good I can make her feel. Once she does she wouldn’t be able to stay mad at me, and she’d sink to her knees and ask me to forgive her.

The thought alone makes me smile. I stroke her gently and pull the covers around us before I let myself get some sleep.

Everything is perfect.

I’m up with the sun, and I’m ravenous for her again. My cock is pressing in between her arse cheeks, and she’s making all those noises I love. I wrap my right arm under her and bring my hand up to grip her throat. My left hand lifts one of her legs so I can slip inside her.

“Fuck, Granger,” I grit out between thrusts, and her head falls back to rest on my chest. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Yes… fuck, yes.”

I love how filthy her mouth is when I’m inside her. So prim and proper everywhere else, except with me.

I flip her onto her stomach and crawl over the top of her, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

“There,” my hands slide down her spine, and she shivers. “Now I can see that pretty face when I make you come.”

She turns her head and looks into my eyes, nodding reverently.

Fuck, I love you so much.

I set to making good on my promise, fucking her nice and slow, the position we’re in allowing me to hit that spot I know she loves. I wrap my hand underneath her to rub circles against her clit. It doesn’t take long before she’s gasping and clenching down on me. I’m not far behind her.

After my heart rate is steady again, we chat pleasantly. She asks about the elves, and I make sure she knows I’ve freed them.

I’m a good man now, Granger. I’ve changed everything for you. Built this life for you.

I must be high on endorphins because I start telling her everything. Telling her about how I offered obscene amounts of galleons and a little bit of blackmail to secure my acquittal. The Wizengamot is a joke, honestly. I’m not sure if Kingsley ever got word of it, but if he has, he’s never done anything about it. Not that he could, I had the majority vote and all my trails are untraceable. I found their weakest link and exploited it.

She asks about Nott, and I tell her most of the truth. I knew she had to see for herself how wrong he was for her. I don't tell her that it was all part of my plan. I knew Theo was relatively harmless, and if she was with him, it meant she wasn't off dating someone with more serious intentions.

Plus, it allowed me to keep my eyes on her, to still stay part of her inner circle. Showing her what dating Theo was like secured the knowledge in her that no one can love her the way I do, no one can give her what I can.

I don’t tell her how I let their farce of a relationship continue because I was busy working my way up the ladder. Securing my place in society. Making sure all my ducks were in a row before I claimed my prize.

Once I felt I had everything in order, all it took was a quick imperius and an obliviate, and ol’ Theo boy couldn’t help but royally fuck things up. It was never going to last; I just nudged it along a little. I wasn’t lying when I told her he’d mope for a bit and then he’d be moved on.

I would never lie to her.

Now she never has to worry about him again. She never has to worry about anything ever again. She never even has to leave the manor's walls again.

She stammers, and I can tell she’s trying to wrap her head around this information, the knowledge that I’ve done it all for her. That this game we’ve been playing has always been real for me. I find it charming that, for how intelligent she is, she’s having a hard time processing this.

“What's wrong, darling? Cat got your tongue?” Her eyes are wide. I give her a little kiss to soothe her nerves. “The game is over now, I win. And you are all mine.”

Forever, that is.

***