Draco's first visit with his mother seemed to lighten the heavy weight of the guilt he had not realized he had been carrying around. She seemed lighter and brighter than she had in years. Her cheeks had filled out slightly, as if she had a gained a bit of weight back and she conversed happily with Draco over tea and biscuits. "Are they treating you well, Mother?" he asked.
"As well as can be in a place such as this," she replied with a sniff. "The people are fairly decent, I suppose, but the food is wretched, and I don't enjoy being prodded at all hours of the night."
Draco chuckled at his mother's haughty attitude and realized that she seemed more lucid than he had seen her since her fugue had started all those months ago. "Mother, where do you think you are?" he asked.
"I'm at St. Mungo's, darling," she replied easily.
Draco nodded. "And what year is it?"
"1994."
Well, it was marginally better, he supposed. "Of course, Mother," Draco said through slightly gritted teeth. Perhaps it had been too much to hope for anything else.
Draco spent the better part of an hour with his mother, before Healer Wilson interrupted with a polite knock at the frame of the door. "Mr. Malfoy," the man greeted. "Do you have a moment?"
Draco turned to his mother and gave her a reassuring smile, before rising and following the other man out of his mother's room. "Healer Wilson," Draco greeted in return when they were outside the room.
"She seems to be settling in nicely," said Healer Wilson with a nod.
"Yes, she looks better than I've seen her in years," Draco agreed.
"I think the change of scenery has done her a world of good," the Healer offered.
Draco nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose it is a possibility. The Manor is rather depressing these days."
"How are you doing with all of this?" he asked.
"I'm doing all right, trying to keep myself distracted. It's been strange not having her around," Draco replied.
"It's very common to feel a sense of loss when a family member goes into long-term care—I assure you it is not unusual for you to feel the way you do now," Healer Wilson replied.
Draco flashed the man a small smile, having no desire to talk about his emotions with this man. "And her condition?" Draco asked, changing the subject.
Healer Wilson sighed deeply. "She remains stable, but I have not seen as much change in her mental state as I would like. We've started her on a Depression Draught and a Memory Support potion of my own invention, but she remains unchanged. She is aware of where she is, but I believe that has to do with the fact that she is an unfamiliar with her surroundings and her memory is working overtime to normalize her environment." Healer Wilson paused before he spoke again, "I wish I had better news to give you, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco sighed, wishing for better news himself. "Well, the important thing is that she's safe and being looked after."
"We take the utmost care, Mr. Malfoy," Healer Wilson assured him.
Draco politely thanked the Healer before heading back into his mother's room. Her energy had appeared to wane in his absence, and she suddenly looked very tired. She smiled at him weakly, nonetheless. "Everything all right, darling?" she asked him.
"Yes. Just needed to have a quick chat with the Healer. You look exhausted, Mother. You should get some rest," Draco offered.
Narcissa smiled at him gratefully. "I hate to cut our visit short, darling. But I am feeling rather tired."
"Not to worry, Mother, I plan to be back soon," he reassured her.
With a quick kiss on the cheek, Draco bade his mother farewell, and made his way down the halls of St. Mungo's.
The news had not been the best, and it had not been what he had hoped for, but he had meant what he said about it being important that she was safe and being cared for in a professional facility. It was still unusual being alone in the Manor, but he no longer felt the worry that he had become so accustomed to over the past several years—always needing to know where his mother was: was she safe? What state of mind was she in? He no longer had to wonder, and that was freeing, if not a bit of an unusual feeling.
He also appreciated the freedom of being able to leave the Manor without having to worry about what she would do in his absence. This had been the most enjoyable result of placing his mother at St. Mungo's—he now had the freedom to spend more time with Hermione, and he was taking advantage of that every chance he got.
Hermione. He smiled as he thought of her.
It was a sudden decision, but he wanted to see her, if just for a moment. She had known he was going to visit his mother for the first time, and she would certainly be curious about it. The amount of thought his witch put towards his mother often astounded him—he had not been aware that people such as her could exist—people who cared so deeply for complete strangers. But that was Hermione, full to bursting with care, and love, and adoration. Adoration that he was only so lucky to see first-hand.
He apparated quickly to Diagon Alley, and in the general vicinity of Hermione's shop. He had foregone apparating into her shop, being less impulsive and idiotic as of late. Draco made the short walk to the shop, and pulled the door open, instantly looking around for his witch. She wasn't perched on the couch, scribbling unevenly on a piece of parchment as she took notes, which was where he had expected her. Knowing her now, he knew she preferred to be out in the open, readily available to help anyone who wandered into the shop, as opposed to being secluded in her office.
Taking in the little shop that he was now so familiar with, he spotted neither customer nor Hermione. Furrowing his brow in confusion, Draco called out for her, "Hermione?" There was a loud crash in the back of the shop, near Hermione's office, and Draco instantly drew his wand in defense. "Hermione?" he called again.
As he walked further, he could hear the din of raised voices, muffled by the closed door of Hermione's office. Draco strained his hearing, trying to figure out what was going, wand still outstretched.
"Hermione!" came a frustrated voice that Draco instantly recognized as Weasley.
"Stop!" Hermione shouted in return.
That had been enough, Draco rushed to the office door and threw it open, coming face-to-face with a red-faced Weasley and a Hermione who looked like she'd been crying recently, her face scrunched up and furious, a large stack of books having just crashed to the floor. Hermione's eyes instantly shot to Draco's and she seemed to silently plead with him. "What is going on here?" Draco asked coldly, his eyes still locked with Hermione's.
"A private conversation!" Weasley spat.
"Didn't seem so private to me, I could hear you out here," Draco countered.
"You're interrupting, Malfoy!" Weasley said, eyes never leaving Hermione's face.
"I'm in a place of business looking to spend some money. It would nice if I could get some help," Draco replied coldly.
"We are busy!"
"Ron," Hermione said quietly, pleadingly.
"I want to finish this conversation," Weasley said hotly.
"Now isn't a good time. I have a customer."
"Fuck him, he's a Death Eater."
At this, Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously at the man before her. "He's a customer, and he's my friend. You're the one acting deranged."
Weasley's eyes shot Draco, his expression murderous. "I told you to leave."
"No," Draco said coldly, taking a few steps forward.
At that, Weasley raised his wand and pointed it directly at Draco.
Hermione rushed forward and grabbed at Weasley's arm, grappling for his wand. "Ronald, stop! Lower your wand!" she ordered.
When Weasley ignored her, Draco raised his own wand. "What, Weasley? Are you going to hex me, or what?"
"Leave, Malfoy, or I will."
"Ronald, stop!" Hermione screamed, and she was crying now, grasping desperately at Weasley's raised arm. "Stop."
The sight of tears rolling down his witch's face ignited something primal in Draco, and wordlessly he shot a Stupefy at the opposing wizard, who was on his back and unconscious before he even saw the spell coming. Quickly pocketing his wand, Draco rushed to Hermione, who was staring down at Weasley, clearly in shock. He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her to him. "Are you all right?" he asked her quietly.
For a moment, she didn't react, but then Draco felt her nod against his chest.
"Where's Potter?" he asked, thinking quickly.
"Work," Hermione said quietly, her voice muffled by his jumper.
"Can I Floo call him from here?"
Another small nod.
"All right, Hermione, come on," Draco said, gently leading her towards the fireplace in the middle of the shop. Luckily for them, the shop was still free of customers, but Draco shot a wordless locking spell at the door just in case.
Hermione followed him to the fireplace before quietly saying, "Just call the Auror office of Harry Potter. It'll put you through directly."
Draco nodded before taking a handful of Floo powder and sticking his head through the Floo. "Auror Office of Harry Potter," he said clearly, and instantly Hermione disappeared and Draco was peering into the spacious office of one Harry Potter.
"Malfoy?" Potter called in shock, walking closer to his own fireplace. "What do you want?"
Draco cleared his throat. "Look, I wouldn't be calling if it wasn't entirely necessary, but there's been a situation over here at Hermione's shop."
Potter rolled his eyes. "What did you do?" he demanded.
"Weasley was there acting foolish as per usual; I may have Stupefied him, and I'd very much like not to be arrested," Draco explained.
Potter chuckled darkly at this. "Seriously, Malfoy? You Stupefied an Auror and you're expecting to just get off?"
"In my defense, Potter, he raised his wand first and he was making my girlfriend cry," Draco argued.
Potter's eyes narrowed at Draco's words. "Where is Hermione?"
"She's right here. Look, can you just come and get your idiotic friend? I don't want him anywhere near Hermione when he comes to," Draco said, exasperated.
Potter seemed to think for a moment before sighing deeply. "Yeah, all right. I'll come through in a second."
"Great," Draco replied, stepping back and out of the Floo, where Hermione once again came into sight. "Hey," he called to her, reaching out to her. Her eyes snapped to his, and silently she came to him, and he once again pulled her into him. "Potter's coming through in a moment."
She nodded against his shoulder before wrapping her own arms around his middle.
"What happened, Hermione? Why was he here?" Draco asked softly.
Hermione sighed against his neck, her breath tickling him. "He sent me an owl a few days ago, apologizing and telling me he wanted to move on. I thought he meant he wanted to be friends, so I changed the wards to allow him back in again. He just showed up today, thinking we were getting back together. I told him that I didn't want to get back together, I wanted to move on, and he just wasn't listening to me—and I just got so frustrated—and I told him I'd started seeing someone else—and he just—he got so mad—"
Her voice had begun to warble, and he squeezed her, holding her tighter.
"Are you mad at me?" she asked softly.
Draco pulled away from her to look in her eyes, which were watering slightly. "Of course I'm not mad at you, Hermione. Don't even think like that."
The Floo roared to life just then, and Potter was stepping through the fireplace with a grimace. Instantly, his eyes went to where Hermione was in Draco's arms. "Hermione," he called.
Hermione turned to face the other man. "He's in my office. When he wakes up tell him I don't ever want to see him again," she said harshly.
Potter visibly flinched. "'Mione —"
"I'm serious, Harry," Hermione interrupted. "I'm done."
"I still need to question you both."
"Ask any questions you'd like. Ron wasn't listening to reason and raised his wand to Draco first. I begged him to drop it, but he wouldn't, so Draco Stupefied him. It was self-defense, and I will testify to that if you need me to," Hermione said matter-of-factly.
Potter stared at Hermione for a long moment before letting out a long breath. "Fine. I'll take care of him. Hermione, you should go home, take the day off."
Draco expected Hermione to protest and insist that she was fine, but she merely nodded at the other man. Draco reluctantly met Potter's eye and said, "I'll take her home."
Potter nodded before heading off in the direction of Hermione's office.
"Is your Floo open, or do you want me to apparate us?" Draco asked.
"You don't have to come with me; I'll be fine," Hermione said quietly.
"I want to come with you, Hermione."
He could see that she wanted to argue with him, but instead she spoke: "Apparate."
Before she could change her mind, Draco linked their arms together and apparated them directly into the living room of her flat. Hermione dropped his arm and collapsed onto her couch with a groan. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.
Draco sat next to her on the couch and took her hand, idly playing with her fingertips. "Why are you sorry?" he asked her gently.
"What if you get into trouble? He already hates you, and I'm sure he figured out when you showed up that you're the one I'm seeing—and we didn't want him to know—and I'm sure he knows—and your money issues. What if I just painted a target on your back?" she lamented.
"Hey, if I get in trouble, I'll deal with it, all right? That's why I called Potter. I don't care if he knows about us—in fact, I'm glad he does. And, well, as far as my money issues goes, I'm pretty sure he can't read or do basic math, so I'm not too worried," Draco said jokingly. "Catastrophizing is my thing, Hermione. Not yours."
"You just already have so much trouble, I don't want to make it worse for you," Hermione said sadly.
"Oh, Hermione," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "There's no way you could make it worse for me. You make everything better. Don't you know I don't give a fuck about anyone else? I only care about you."
She looked up at him then, a shy smile playing at her features. "And you say you're not sweet," she murmured.
Draco smiled back at her. "I guess I do have my moments," he relented.
"I'm glad you were there," Hermione admitted as she played with his fingers. "I'm glad you came. He'd never actually scared me before."
Rage boiled in Draco's belly. "Did he hurt you?" he demanded. "Because if he did—"
Hermione shook her head fiercely. "No, nothing like that. I don't think he'd every hurt me. It's just—I've always known he had a temper, but I'd just never seen him like that. It's like he was completely out of control."
"Did you ever think about getting back together with him?" Draco asked her quietly, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer. They had gotten together so quickly after her break-up with the Weasel, and the question had gnawed at his subconscious on more than one occasion, on many a sleepless night.
"No," she answered softly, squeezing his fingers. "It was hard, certainly, but there was never a moment where I wished I was back with him. We argued too much, I wasn't very happy, and I had feelings for you before he and I even broke up."
"You did?" Draco asked, surprised.
Hermione nodded. "I've had feelings for you since the day you apparated into my shop to yell at me. I didn't realize it at the time, of course. It was all very confusing in the beginning."
"Yes," he agreed. "It was."
"I don't want you to worry about me getting back together with Ron. Our relationship didn't work—it never really did, if I'm being honest. This, though—" she said, gesturing between herself and Draco "—This is working. I think it could work."
"I think so, too," Draco said softly. "Why that day? The day I yelled at you?"
Hermione sighed. "I think—I had this preconceived notion of what you were—who you were. You were that prickish little boy that teased me, and sneered at my friends, and fought for Voldemort. Then you showed up at my shop for help, just as annoying, just as prickish. But you seemed softer somehow—all the venom was gone. And then you showed up distraught, with your Mark destroyed and blood dripping down your arm, and I just thought to myself 'you don't know this person at all.' I think that was the first time I ever saw you."
"I heard your voice in my head after that day. Before you, I was a mess. More so than I am now. Every time I thought about cutting it off, I heard your voice. I think it kept me sane," Draco admitted.
"We're both idiots," she murmured.
"Well, I've got you now. And I've very much like to keep you," Draco replied, parroting her words.
She kissed him then, soft and slow, their lips grazing against each other before she opened her mouth slightly, allowing him entry. He kissed her back fiercely, their tongues dancing together. Hermione was the first to pull away, her breathing labored as she rested her forehead against his. "You didn't Stupefy Ron because he had his wand trained on you. You did it because of me, didn't you?"
I see you
"Yes," Draco murmured. "I don't like seeing you cry."
Hermione chuckled at him. "So protective."
"I protect what's mine," Draco asserted.
She was on him them, almost as if she had pounced, straddling his lap where he sat on the couch. Her mouth was on his, desperate and dizzying as she kissed him. Her fingertips found the bottom of his jumper and hurriedly pulled it from his shoulders, leaving him only in an undershirt, before her lips returned to his. "Say it again," Hermione whispered as she divested him of his undershirt, leaving him bare-chested on her couch.
"You're mine," he murmured against her lips. Draco's hands floated to her waist, pulling her against him, enjoying the friction of her leggings against his burgeoning erection at the front of his trousers. "I want to touch you. Can I?"
"Yes," she whispered, her voice like a purr.
Draco's hands rose and found the hem of her jumper, which he tugged over her head, her curls bouncing around her shoulders. Draco stared at the sight before him—her petite body, the swell of her hips, the curve of her breasts hidden by a black cotton bra. His hands rose even further, up the sides of her waist and to her breasts, squeezing them gently—they fit perfectly in his hands, as he had known they would. Above him, Hermione let out a soft moan and Draco felt his cock twitch at the sound.
He found the clasp of her bra with ease and unhooked it quickly, tossing it to the floor, wanting them to match in their states of disarray. Hermione's lips left his for an instant, and she was watching his face, waiting for something, as he stared at her naked breasts. Draco took them in his hands once more before looking her in the eye. "I think you're beautiful," he whispered reverently.
Hermione smiled at him shyly before kissing him again, seemingly satisfied.
Draco gently rolled a nipple with his fingers, and then the other, and Hermione groaned, "Draco."
"You're mine," he repeated.
"And you're mine," Hermione said in a whisper.
mine mine mine
Her hand had just undone his belt-buckle and the zipper of his trousers, when the Floo roared to life, and Hermione jumped from Draco's lap with a gasp.
"Hermione?" came Potter's disembodied voice. "Can you open up?"
"Hang on, Harry!" she called, finding her bra and quickly fastening it before tossing Draco's jumper to him, hurriedly pulling on her own.
Grumbling, Draco pulled on his own jumper just as Hermione was opening the Floo and Potter was flying through it. "You guys are fucking trouble, I swear," Potter muttered as he brushed the dust from his robes, before looking up. "Trouble," he repeated, taking in Hermione's flushed face, and Draco's disheveled hair.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Harry," Hermione replied primly, as if she had not been grinding on Draco's lap only moments ago.
"Well, he's not happy," Potter began.
"I'm not happy, Harry," Hermione shot back, her eyes narrowed.
"I'm supremely unhappy," Draco added unhelpfully.
"Shut up!" Potter and Hermione shouted at the same time.
"He wants to press charges, Hermione."
"Let him. I was there, I saw the whole thing. Draco was completely within in his rights to Stupefy him. I told you I'd testify."
"I've convinced him not to, but what is going on, Hermione?" Potter asked, exasperated.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know what's going on with you! First the shop, then the break-up with Ron, and now Malfoy—that happened mighty quickly, might I add—"
"My shop?" Hermione asked coldly. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"You were happy working at the Ministry, for a year! Then you just left. No one understood, least of all Ron!"
"The Ministry is corrupt, Harry! It always has been! I wasn't happy, and if either you or Ron paid any attention to me at all, you would have realized that! And as for my shop, why is it so wrong for me to want something that is all for me? Just for me? Why is that so wrong?" Hermione cried.
Draco rose from the couch and placed his hands comfortingly on Hermione's shoulders. "Potter," he warned.
"And as for my relationship with Ron," Hermione continued. "It wasn't working, and I wasn't happy. I'm happy with Draco, and I'm tired of being interrogated. I'm tired of him being interrogated."
Potter pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefingers. "I just don't understand what changed, Hermione."
"I did!" she shouted. "I changed, Harry, because I had to! It's just that no one paid attention. You're all content being just like we were at Hogwarts, but I'm not."
Potter sighed and looked directly at Draco. "I've convinced him not to press charges. And I want to be clear here, I did it for her, not you. But he's angry. I'd watch yourself, Malfoy."
"I'll stay away from him as long as he stays away from her," Draco replied, squeezing Hermione's shoulders.
mine mine mine
"So, this is really a thing, isn't it?" Potter asked, clearly exasperated.
"Yes," Hermione replied fiercely, her hand rising to grip Draco's hand where it rested atop her shoulder.
"Does Ron know now?" Potter asked.
"I didn't tell him directly…but I let it slip that I was seeing someone else. I'm pretty sure he connected the dots," Hermione replied.
"Hermione," Potter admonished. "He thought you were getting back together!"
"And that's my fault how!?" she exclaimed.
"Potter," Draco warned, louder this time.
"You agreed that you wanted to move on!"
"I did! I did move on! I wanted to be friends!"
"That's not how he read it!"
"That's not my fault!"
"Potter!" Draco shouted.
Breathing heavily, Potter's eyes flashed to him, enraged. "What?" he snapped.
"If you're here to upset her, I'd prefer if you just left."
"This is not your flat—" Potter began.
"It's not, but Hermione is my girlfriend, and I've had quite enough of you all upsetting her today."
Potter looked at him strangely before his eyes drifted to Hermione, who nodded. "We're all heated right now, and I think we need some space. I'll owl you in a few days, Harry?" she said quietly.
The other man looked ready to argue for a moment, before he reluctantly nodded back. "You're right. In a few days?" he asked.
"Yes," Hermione confirmed.
"You'll make sure she's okay?" Potter asked, looking at Draco.
"Yes," Draco answered simply, surprised that he was even being acknowledged.
"I'll come back if I don't hear from you, Hermione," Potter warned.
"You will, Harry, you will," Hermione promised.
With a scowl, Potter grabbed a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace. "Auror office of Harry Potter," he said, disappearing in a flash of green light.
With that, Draco and Hermione were left alone, his hands still squeezing her shoulders. "Hermione," he murmured.
"I'm tired," she announced in a dull voice.
"Me, too," Draco replied. "Bed?"
"Bed," she agreed.
Fully clothed, they crawled into bed, and Draco pulled her in close, breathing in her scent.
"Today was bad," Hermione said simply.
"Certainly not ideal."
"And we were interrupted—" she began awkwardly.
Draco rubbed comforting circles into her back. "I'm not in any rush, Hermione, I want to make that very clear."
"No, it's not that. I don't feel pressured by you at all, that's not what I'm saying," Hermione began tentatively.
"Then what are you saying?" Draco asked softly, still rubbing circles along the curve of her spine.
With a sigh, Hermione flipped in the bed to face him, wrapping an arm around his waist. Her eyes did not meet his, and she seemed to be thinking hard, choosing her words carefully. "I think," she began, seeming to roll the words around in her mouth, deciding whether or not she liked the taste of them, "on a day that is decidedly better than this one, I think I would like for what happened on the couch to happen again." She smiled at him lightly, questioningly.
"Oh?" Draco asked.
"Yes," Hermione confirmed, with a bit more force than before. "I would."
"Are you sure?" Draco asked quietly, suddenly feeling very much like they were standing at the very edge of a great precipice.
Hermione's hand rose to push a stray lock of blonde hair away from his face and she met his eyes once more. "I trust you," she said simply.
Draco couldn't help the smile that rose on his face. Such simple words, they were, but they meant so very much, to him, from her, for them. Trust was not something that Draco was entirely familiar with, and as such, his was very hard-earned. It dawned on Draco that in a matter of near months, Draco had gone from childhood bully to trusted partner and he wondered what he had done for her to give him her affections so freely—what he had done that she willing to bare all of herself to him.
Hermione smiled back at him, and seemingly satisfied, turned herself back in his arms, once more pressing her body into the curve of his. Draco swelled with affection, and he pulled her in close, pressing a kiss to the curve of her shoulder.
"Sweet," she mused quietly.
"Only for you," he reminded her.
They awoke hours later, just as the sun was beginning to set outside the windows of Hermione's flat. Hermione pulled herself from Draco's arms and into a sitting position. Draco watched as she looked out the windows and studied where the sun was in the sky. With a grumble, she spoke, "We slept too long."
Draco wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back down to the bed and next to him. "You're always on the move, Hermione. It's all right to rest once in a while, you know."
She sighed but relented in his arms. "Yes, I know, it's just—"
"Yes, I know, you have much to do," Draco interrupted. "Can't you shut off that brain of yours for a moment and just be here with me for a little while longer?"
"The brain part is unlikely, Draco. But I suppose it won't hurt to stay in bed for a little bit longer," Hermione reasoned.
"Good," Draco said, shifting her curls to kiss the nape of her neck.
They laid in silence for a few moments, as Draco pressed gentle kisses to her neck and shoulders before Hermione spoke again, "You see me, too," she interrupted.
"Do I?" Draco whispered, his fingertips ghosting over her skin.
"I think so. We all hide our real selves to some extent—some better than others—But I think you see the pieces of me I try to hide—just like I see yours."
Draco thought for a moment. "You are good and kind to the point of fault. You never stop thinking about other people, or the bigger picture. You want to help everyone, even those who don't deserve your help. You are ruthless, but also incredibly forgiving. You're confident when it comes to your skills and your knowledge, but you are often uncomfortable in your own skin. You're uncomfortable being the Hermione Granger," he mused.
She tensed beneath him briefly, then relaxed. "Yes," Hermione agreed.
"Some of which I am personally responsible for," Draco continued.
"It wasn't just you. I've been made fun of my whole life. I was too weird, too bookish. Then the hair, and the teeth. There was no reprieve."
"I'm sorry," he murmured against her shoulder blade.
"You've already apologized, and I've already forgiven you," she said matter-of-factly.
"How is it so easy for you?" Draco asked.
Hermione shrugged in his arms. "It happened, and it can't be changed. You've changed and seen the error of your ways. You apologized and I believe you. What's the point of hanging on to it?" she asked.
Draco sighed. "If the roles were reserved, I'm not sure I'd be able to forgive," he mused, idly playing with her hair. "It's funny, the very things fueled my dislike for you are the very things that now endear me to you. Your kindness, your optimism, your remarkable brain. How could I have ever taken them for granted?"
She sat up, already restless with idleness and turned to face him. "Well, the important thing is you don't take them for granted now," she said with a light smile and a peck to his lips.
Draco took advantage of her position over him and placed his hands on either side of her face, holding her in place. "I'll never take anything about you for granted again, Hermione. I promise you that."
Hermione held his eyes for a moment, before leaning down once more and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. She pulled back, watching him, before kissing him again, this time harder. She shifted on the bed, throwing a leg over him, straddling him as she continued to kiss him. Her pace soon became frantic, desperate, as their tongues moved together, tasting each other, and he felt himself grow harder in his trousers. Hermione pulled away from him and as he watched, hungrily, she pulled her jumper over her head, tossing it to the floor.
Draco couldn't help himself, lightly running his hands over the curves of her hips and reverently up her abdomen. "Hermione?" he asked hoarsely as he explored her naked skin.
Hermione didn't answer, but met his eyes as she quickly undid the clasp of her bra and tossed it in the same direction as her jumper.
Draco groaned at the sight of her creamy flesh, the gentle swell of her breast, and the light pink dusting of her nipples. He sat up then to meet her, unable to keep himself from her any longer, and took a nipple in his mouth, teasing it gently with his teeth before rolling his tongue lightly over the peak. Hermione moaned and her hands found purchase at the back of his neck, keeping him in place. Draco laved at her right nipple for a moment before shifting his attention to her left nipple, repeating his ministrations.
"Draco," she sighed breathily.
"Gorgeous," he murmured against her bare chest, both nipples dark pink and hardened.
Hermione took advantage of this loss of contact and took the hem of his jumper in her hands, pulling it over his head. She wasted no time with his undershirt, and then they were identical in their nakedness. Once more her hands found the back of his head, and she pulled him close so she could resume kissing him, their chests pressed together.
Draco was fully hard now and aching in his trousers. "Hermione," he murmured again, against her lips.
"I want you," Hermione replied heatedly. "Do you want me?"
"Yes," Draco replied. "Yes."
"You're mine," she whispered to him, kissing him once more, swallowing his groan.
mine mine mine
At her words, Draco rolled them over on the bed, so he was now hovering over her body on the bed. "You're mine," he said fiercely, kissing her soundly.
"Yes," Hermione agreed, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulling him in close, "yours."
Draco returned his attention back to her breasts, lightly licking and sucking at them, and she moaned his name so sweetly: "Draco." He looked up at her then, she was panting now, her eyes slightly glazed with pleasure as she watched him tease her nipples. Noticing her gaze, he went back to her mouth, kissing her hungrily, needfully.
Hermione's hands drifted to Draco's trousers, where she hurriedly undid the button—belt long abandoned—and pulled down the zipper, hastily slipping her hand inside and palming her hand over his aching erection through the fabric of his boxers. Draco groaned lightly at the contact, desperate for more of her touch. He didn't have to wait long, her hand hastily finding the elastic of his boxers, which she quickly pushed away, wrapping her hand around his cock, pumping him slowly. "Hermione," he gasped, thrusting into her hand.
She smiled up at him, her eyes lidded with pleasure.
Draco quickly lost himself to her touch, his head dropped to her shoulder and she pumped his cock. "Feels good," he murmured into her ear, before lightly nipping at her earlobe, eliciting a gasp from her.
Hermione continued to pump slowly as Draco moaned in her ear. She pressed a kiss to his forehead after a particularly pleasurable gasp. With that, Hermione withdrew her hand from his boxers and Draco groaned at the lack of contact. Her hands were pushing heatedly at his trousers, trying to pull them off with some difficulty. Draco stood from the bed, pulling his trousers down so quickly, he nearly got his feet tangled in them. Without a thought, Draco also pulled his boxers down, and his cock popped free, hard and leaking in front of him. Draco looked to where Hermione lay on the bed, her body flushed with want, her eyes trained intently on his cock.
Climbing back into the bed and back over her, Draco lightly ran a finger across the waist of her leggings. "Can I take these off?" he asked softly, desperate for more of her.
She swallowed and nodded, and Draco needed no further encouragement, yanking at the top of her leggings and pulling them down over her knees. Hermione shifted, helping Draco undress her. Forcefully, he pulled the cotton pants from her body, turning them completely inside out before throwing them to the floor. Hermione laid beneath him, clad only in plain black knickers. He desperately wanted to take them off and see her.
He kissed her again, long and slow. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against her lips.
"Draco," she groaned, as he toyed with the band of her knickers.
"Do you want me to touch you?" he asked softly.
"Yes," Hermione breathed.
Taking her lips once more, Draco deftly slipped his fingers inside her knickers, finding her center wet and wanting. He spread the wetness there, coating his fingers with it before he quickly found her clit, where he swirled the tips of his fingers, teasing the hardened nub.
Hermione moaned. "Draco."
"You're so wet, Hermione," Draco said as he continued to tease her clit.
"For you," she groaned.
"All for me, Hermione?" Draco asked lowly.
Her eyes were shut tightly in ecstasy, but she nodded forcefully.
Draco continued to swirl the pads of his fingers over her clit, and Hermione was clinging to him, her fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders.
She opened her eyes for a split second, before she dove in for another kiss. "Draco," she said against his lips.
"Hmm?" Draco said, never ceasing rubbing her clit.
"Want you," she gasped.
At the implication, Draco pulled his hand free from her knickers, and braced himself on the bed above her. "Are you sure?" he asked her quietly.
She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him back down to her, where she kissed each corner of his mouth. "Yes," she said soundly.
He pressed another kiss to her lips before he pulled away slightly. "I need you to know that this isn't nothing, Hermione. This is important to me. You are important to me," he said.
"I know," she whispered, smiling at him.
Draco nodded before he divested her of her soaked knickers, and she was bare before him. "You're so beautiful," he repeated, spreading her legs to allow himself to sit before her. He ran the tip of his cock along her wet slit, coating himself in her arousal liberally before aligning himself with her entrance and pressing in slowly. Hermione gasped as he began to enter her, spreading her legs wider. Inch by inch, Draco sank his cock into her. She was tight, and wet, and warm, and she felt so good around him. When he was fully sheathed, he dropped his forehead down to Hermione's. "Okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse with pleasure.
Hermione nodded before she captured his lips with hers. Assured that Hermione was all right, Draco began to move, slow rolls of hips as he fucked her deeply. With every thrust, Hermione moaned into his mouth. Draco began to thrust a bit harder, and Hermione's legs rose to wrap around his hips, pulling him in deeper. Pulling away from his mouth, Hermione began to pepper his face and neck with kisses. "Draco," she said softly, contentedly.
"Hermione," he moaned back, "you feel so—" he began, quickly losing his train of thought as he began to thrust into her faster.
"Good," Hermione finished for him, pulling him in close, and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
"Fuck, Hermione," he groaned. He was quickly losing control with the way she felt around him, but he desperately wanted her to come. With the thought in mind, Draco pulled himself away from her arms, and adjusted himself to a sitting position, where he could see her clit and where his cock was buried inside of her. In this new position, Draco resumed his thrusting as well as his ministrations of her clit. As soon as his thumb found her clit, Hermione let out a moan, clenching around him.
A few minutes of this, and Hermione's moans had become louder, and her hips were meeting his with every thrust. "I want you to come, Hermione," he gasped.
"I'm close, Draco, I'm close," she moaned back.
A few more thrusts and Hermione was gripping his forearms tightly, crying out her release and clenching around him. Her moans and the tight squeeze of her around him was too much for Draco, and he thrust once, then twice, then stilled his hips, flush with hers, as he came with a low groan.
When his orgasm was complete, Draco collapsed against Hermione, pulling her into his arms as he rolled off of her. Immediately, Hermione curled up next to him, resting her head on his chest as his breathing began to even out. Absently, he stroked her hair, wondering which one of them would be the first to speak.
Predictably, it was Hermione: "That was—" she began.
"Amazing," Draco finished for her.
She nodded against his chest. "Yes," Hermione agreed.
Amazing
Mine.