Archive of Our Own ^beta

Throughout Hermione Granger’s entire life, she had gotten stuck in her fair share of troublesome situations, the most notable of which occurred during her school years. Sure, she had the normal childhood mishaps that any other magically inclined child had, but nothing held a candle to the shenanigans she got up to while attending Hogwarts. She initially credited this phenomenon to her friendship with Harry Potter, but after the defeat of Voldemort and several years as a working adult she found that maybe it wasn’t her association with The Boy Who Lived that led her into such sticky circumstances.

One of her many theories was that it was a never ending test. Something to always keep her on her toes. Something to make her better. Hermione wasn’t a stranger to a challenge, having come into the magical world already behind, and she worked harder than all of her peers in order to stay on top. If her misfortunes were truly a test, she strived to never fail. The unluckiness didn’t hinder her, it made her better, stronger . 

Either that, or she was just plain unfortunate.

Hermione certainly felt that way, especially now, when she was facing her current conundrum: being literally stuck to none other than the infamous former Death Eater and top notch ponce, Draco Malfoy. And of course, due to her abysmal luck, they were conjoined in one of the most embarrassing positions possible.

The moment they had been flung together by the cursed object they’d been sent to retrieve, they had angled their necks away from each other, allowing them the freedom to swivel their heads around, but that’s where their fortune ended. The object they’d come to collect seemed to create its own gravity, holding them upright and hovering just above the ground. Her face was centimetres from his chest, Malfoy’s head just above hers with their considerable height difference. His arms framed hers as they surrounded her shoulders and extended behind her back. Her arms were straight out underneath his, her forearms resting just above his hips. To anyone else, it would look as if they were attempting an awkward hug, arms sticking out straight instead of wrapped around one another, and though there was still a finger’s width distance between the two of them, Hermione could feel the object pulling them even closer.

Both of them thankfully still had their wands, but their movements were restricted to simple wrist flicks with how they were nearly glued to each other’s bodies. Though their upper bodies were still slightly separated, their legs were entangled. Malfoy’s muscular thigh was between her legs as she straddled it like a rather large broomstick.

Her knee jerked at the thought, eliciting a grunt from Malfoy.

“Ah, yes Granger, do continue doing that. It’s sure to do something different than when you did it the last five times. We can’t just pull ourselves apart.”

Arsehole.

“Well, I don’t see you doing much of anything Malfoy .”

“You can thank that bush you call hair for that. I can hardly breathe without it trying to suffocate me. Doesn’t exactly make it easy to think,” he emphasised his point with a stubborn blow of air through his arrogant mouth.

I hope it gets the job done , she thought to herself. 

Though she hadn’t meant it, not really. Malfoy was a bastard, but he didn’t deserve to die. In fact, he was one of the DMLE’s top Aurors, to everyone’s surprise. He didn’t take her spot, of course, nor did he surpass Harry’s natural Auror skills, but he had shaped up to be quite the asset to the department. After his brief stint in Azkaban, he seemed to have lost any lingering bigotry. Unfortunately, he had kept his haughty personality. He wasn’t too bad on the eyes, but that of course was negated by said foul disposition.

Speaking of which…

“Are you done fucking around Granger, or can I do my damn job?”

Hermione took a deep breath in through her nose, ignoring the pleasant aroma of tobacco and bergamot. “If you just let me call in help, we can--”

“We don’t need help,” Malfoy insisted.

She released the breath in a huff, “Then do something productive or I will ignore you, send a Patronus to Robards, and--”

Her voice cut out as Malfoy cast a Silencing charm on her and she flexed her wand hand so hard she was sure the imprint would permanently be pressed into her skin. She wanted to hex his bollocks off, but knew that would be counterproductive as he was pressed against her in that specific spot and Merlin knew what it would do to them both. Her clit hummed at the thought of Malfoy’s groyne, reminding her of the scant distance between their pelvises and the tease of his cock almost pressed against her stomach. She’d been trying to ignore its half-hard state, reasoning that it was an involuntary reaction due to their close proximity.

They had been stuck together like this for at least a few hours. She couldn’t see it now, but had gotten a glance of the object when they walked in. It was an obsidian statue of two figures intertwined with each other. The magic of it felt rather on the nose.

The reports she read through before heading here had stated that anyone who entered the building never came out, and judging that it was an abandoned manor from one of the pure blood families, she and Malfoy had both anticipated some sort of cursed object to be the source of the peculiarity. And from the corpses they saw the moment they walked into the parlour, it was likely they would be in this idiotic sandwich until death did them part. Hermione wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disgusted by the fact that her work as an Auror made the smell non-existent, but even the lack of scent didn’t disguise the horror of their possible fate.

Truly unfortunate.

She blamed Harry this time.

No, she blamed Harry and her usual partner Polly Thatcher.

Why did he have to be such a good husband and take the day off to care for his pregnant wife? And why had Polly gotten that questionable takeaway the night before this mission? Hermione hadn’t cared if Polly “dry heaved so hard she popped a rib” or Ginny would “literally rip Harry’s head off.” With those two out of commission, she and Malfoy were forced to pair up. And now they were pressed together so close she could feel every hard angle of his body.

Arousal jolted through her at the reminder of his cock, causing her thighs to squeeze him reflexively. She held her breath, preparing for another scolding. Malfoy’s body tensed, but surprisingly no reprimand followed. Then, they both exhaled simultaneously, their eyes meeting at the shared reaction. She realised for the first time that his eyes weren’t just grey. At this distance, she could see the different hues of blue that filled his irises: impossibly dark streaks near his pupils that grew stunningly bright as they branched out from the centre, until the effect created two storm clouds staring back at her. 

Hermione broke eye contact immediately, cursing herself for the warmth that spread through her face at her blatant ogling. Still silenced, she waited for Malfoy to give a snarky remark or insult her hair again, but nothing came. Instead, out of the corner of her eye she could see him turning his head to look all around them, the tips of his ears slightly pink. 

“Alright, since your ideas didn’t work, we’re going with mine,” Malfoy said, his voice even as he continued to scan the room.

His collected and professional tone cooled her embarrassment, giving the logical part of her brain the reins again. Their Hogwarts school days were long gone and she needed to remember that they were both trained Aurors. No matter how stupidly good looking this prat was or how close their bodies currently were, he was her partner in this mission.

“Luckily for us Granger, I came prepared ,” he drawled, the corner of his mouth quirking slightly.

She glared at him, scandalised that he thought her unprepared.

Malfoy smirked, as if her response was exactly what he wanted. She hated him.

“You’re going to listen to me, Granger,” he said, his voice demanding.

Usually Hermione would have recoiled at anyone telling her what to do, especially an entitled arsehole like Malfoy, but there was something about his tone that sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. Maybe it was the fact that their chests were pressed together and she could feel his steady heartbeat and the heat radiating from him was slowly cooking her brain. Maybe it was the fact that she believed him capable of getting them out of this with how he laid claim to a solution. Or maybe there was a part of her that wanted so desperately for someone else to take control of the situation so she could simply not have to worry. Just once.

She nodded slowly, her body acting on that last thought before her mind could catch up. Malfoy raised a brow at her quick agreement, something unrecognisable flickering in those storm clouds as he appraised her.

“I learned a few simple curse nullifying spells from Theo before I left,” he started, his voice upholding its commanding tone though he continued to watch her curiously. Hermione raised a brow. “What? You and Potter aren’t the only ones who see him as a reliable Unspeakable.”

She smirked and Malfoy grumbled, “Don’t ever tell him I said that.” He cleared his throat before continuing, “I think we’re close enough to the statue for those to work. I’m going to cast them one at a time until we figure out which one works best. If there is any kick back, I need you to attend to it while I try another spell. After we’re untangled, we’ll have to act quickly and get it into the bag Theo gave me. It should secure it until we bring it back to the Ministry.”

She should be irate with him for silencing her. For insinuating that she, Hermione Granger, entered a situation without being prepared. For thinking of a better solution than her. For somehow sounding condescending and sexy all at once.

“Nod if you understand.”

Hermione frowned, but bobbed her head nonetheless.

That smug smile was back on his face, joined by a glimmer of something indescribable in his eyes. 

“Show me what that clever mind is capable of,” he leaned closer, taunting her in a low whisper, “I know you can.”

She exhaled through the next shiver that cascaded through her body. With how his body flexed after, she was certain Malfoy had felt it too. When he pulled his head back, there was a hunger hiding in the storm, but before she could contemplate that look further, he cancelled the Silencing charm and recited the first nullifying spell, keeping his wrist movements short and concise.

Hermione had heard of the spell before, and though she’d never admit it to him, she was impressed by his ability to cast it in their confinement. Not only was he working with a near impossible angle, he was aiming at the object blindly, likely going for the disarmament of the ward itself over hitting the statue head on.

He missed entirely the first time, cursing under his breath as he adjusted his angle.

“More to your left,” Hermione suggested quietly.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes, but offered no rebuttal.

His next shot was exactly where she had directed, hitting its mark with a resounding crack. Hermione’s chin was raised, a stupid grin on her face when his gaze met hers again. He snarled at her expression before his eyes bounced around the room in anticipation. When nothing happened, he tried a different spell, adjusting his aim for the different wand movement.

The spell hit the ward with a dramatic boom that echoed in the small space. The sound was unnerving and both Aurors stood still as they waited for the response. Then, heat erupted in the space where their arms were wrapped around each other. Pain followed the sensation, and Hermione grimaced at the intensity of it. Malfoy flinched.

“I need you to cast,” he started, but Hermione was already following his train of thought as she casted a quick Aguamenti and the burning subsided. They breathed a sigh of relief as the pain faded completely. Hermione followed up with a simple healing spell, careful to not accidentally fuse them together.

“Good,” Malfoy murmured, and the praise flowed over her like the wave of water had: cool and pleasant. 

“That’s good,” he reaffirmed, watching her face curiously as her body trembled against her will. They continued this pattern for a few more casts. Malfoy was down two more nullifiers and Hermione was beginning to get frustrated with dispelling the results. The curse was still working its magic, seemingly agitated by their attempts at neutralising it and pressing them impossibly closer together and making it harder for either of them to breathe. Hermione’s cheek was now plastered against the hard muscles of Malfoy’s chest. His chin was tucked against the top of her head, setting a sharp pain on her skull when he ground his teeth in frustration.

 Despite both of them reaching their wit’s end with this task, Malfoy still offered her kind acknowledgements with every counter spell she performed. The way he was continuing to praise her surprised her at first, but steadily became something else entirely. A knot seemed to have formed in her lower abdomen from his body heat and alluring flattery, tightening more with every inch closer they got. It made her thoughts stray to dangerous places, and she wasn’t sure if it was due to the latent desire she had for him or her body’s reaction to their imminent deaths.

“Granger,” Malfoy spoke her name both softly and urgently, the vibration of his voice against her face piling onto her desire.

“What?” she asked, the question coming out as more of a squeak than a demand.

“I only have one more spell left to try.”

Hermione let out a shaky breath, “Get on with it then.”

Malfoy scoffed, but performed the spell nonetheless and the both of them remained still as they awaited their possible deaths.

The spell hit the statue like a mallet striking a gong, and suddenly they fell to the ground from where they were suspended. Hermione landed on her arse with Malfoy on his hands and knees over her, and for the first time in the two hours the cool breeze of the room flowed between them. She barely had any time to enjoy the freedom before Malfoy was pulling her up and grabbing the magical bag from his back pocket.

“Hold this,” he ordered and the knot within her clenched.

She followed direction, holding the bag wide open and facing the statue.

“ Accio !”

The object hurdled towards them and Hermione caught it in the bag with a huff before tying it shut. Then they were both out of breath, staring at each other. Malfoy’s eyes were unreadable, the tempest grey swirling with several emotions at once. The tension in the air was still present and palpable and Hermione swallowed. She felt lightheaded.

She took in a slow breath and attempted to ground herself.

She’d faced much worse than an unfairly handsome man or cursed object. She was Hermione Granger: heroine of the Second Wizarding World, fearless Muggleborn, and one of the DMLE’s top Aurors. She could handle this.

After one more deep breath, she offered her arm to Malfoy and Apparated them away.

§

The post-Apparition adrenaline faded quickly to exhaustion, making every step feel sluggish. Hermione persevered, since she still had a whole day’s worth of paperwork to file. She chose instead to focus on the frustrating sensation of the ever present knot of desire. It still hadn’t eased by the time they returned to the DMLE, the cursed object in tow. Rather, it had grown even tighter with the loss of Malfoy’s body heat, the replay of the low rumble of his words twisting it into something she was having a hard time ignoring. She stifled it the best she could, having an easier time doing so once she got some space between her and Malfoy on the walk to the Head Auror’s office.

Robards grunted as Malfoy placed the statue on his desk, “Good to see that you were able to get out of there alright.”

“It was a fucking mess in there,” Malfoy snarled. “It would have gone much smoother if Unspeakable Nott had been there with us, like I requested.”

The older wizard shrugged. “I figured sending my top Aurors would have been enough. And I was right, wasn’t I?”

Malfoy scowled and Robards ignored him. “The cleanup crew should be there later this afternoon. Would you two say the building is secure?”

“Yes,” they answered in unison.

“And the statue, sir?” Hermione inquired.

Robards nodded, “Granger, if you would, take it to the Department of Mysteries after this meeting. There’s something else I would like to discuss with you both.”

She and Malfoy shared a look before Robards went into a detailed discussion of another case that involved some of the other Aurors. It was an ongoing large-scale stakeout  that would require some additional backup, and after their performance today, he wanted the two of them to be the ones to fill that role.

Not one to say no, Hermione agreed to the assignment, noticing Malfoy nod along out of the corner of her eyes. Robards was pleased with their acquiescence and began the debrief of the case, but Hermione couldn’t concentrate on his words. Malfoy was close again, his warmth and the subtle scent of tobacco and bergamot causing that knot to squeeze even tighter.

You’re going to listen to me, Granger.

Damn him and his expensive but delicious smelling cologne. Damn his strong muscles and assuredly calm voice. Damn his brilliant idea that somehow had bested all of hers. Damn his ramrod posture, standing next to her so nonchalantly as if they weren’t pressed so close together she could feel the outline of his co---

Shit, what had Robards just said? Something about the wards they needed to dismantle before--

Now, I need you to cast… good . That’s good.

Hermione flexed as hard as she could to disguise the shiver that rippled through her treacherous body at the memory of Malfoy’s praise. When she released the strain, she shifted slightly on her feet, sneaking a quick glance towards Malfoy. Their eyes met and a current surged between the two of them, short-lived but electrifying all the same. Hermione swallowed thickly, training her eyes on Robards as her mind strayed from the conversation. Robards’ mouth was moving, but Malfoy’s words were the only thing she could hear.

Show me what that clever mind is capable of. I know you can.

Her fists were so tense at her sides that her nails were biting into the flesh of her palms. She wished she knew what was going on in Malfoy’s mind. Did he feel the tension between them as well? Or was she just working herself up for no reason?

“Well, that’s all you need to know,” Robards concluded.

Hermione breathed a small sigh of relief, ready to get out of this room and away from Malfoy. She would just ask Harry to fill her in on all of the details she had missed during the debrief, and if that wasn’t enough she could always read up on the case herself. Per Robards’ orders, she took the statue in hand and returned to Malfoy’s side.

The Head Auror dismissed them and Hermione practically bolted towards the door, unconcerned about whether or not her behaviour seemed unusual. She needed a change of scenery, something far away from the white-haired git to ground her back in the present. Just before she was completely through the threshold, Robards gruff voice echoed through the room again.

“Excellent job again today you two.” He paused and Hermione looked around Draco and back towards him. His hands were folded, elbows on the desk as he leaned forward, “Maybe I should make you two permanent partners after all.”

Hermione stared in stunned silence, and Malfoy offered a polite, “Thank you sir” and nodded for both of them before swivelling his head back towards her. Their eyes met for another charged moment before she whipped her head around and fled from the promise in those grey eyes.

§

When she arrived in the Department of Mysteries office, the tension in her core was still present and throbbing, but dull enough now to ignore. As she waited for someone to help her she held the statue as far away from her person as she could, blaming it as well as Malfoy for being in this whole situation in the first place. The department was buzzing with department officials sorting through mysterious packages in the receiving area and accepting evidence from other Aurors.

Hermione let herself get lost in the chaos of this department, trying to think of anything but Malfoy and this forsaken object. For a minute or two it felt achievable. The movement of the unknown faces and worries of others made her temporarily forget her own problems. 

This thing, whatever it may be, with Malfoy would blow over. She would check the statue in, write her report, maybe touch herself to satisfy these budding feelings, and get so drunk on wine she’d forget about the whole thing the next morning. Her life would return to as it was before. She and Malfoy would go back to being rivals, no odd sexual tension between them, just the tension that came for the fight to unseat Harry from his number one position.

“Well if it isn’t Hermione Granger,” a familiar voice chimed.

Hermione pivoted and met the dark green gaze of Theodore Nott.

“Theo,” she said slowly, unsure of how this interaction would play out. 

She hadn’t known much about the former Slytherin until the last few years. After graduating, he had become one of the best Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries, allegedly thanks to growing up at Nott Manor. Hermione and Harry often requested him specifically as their contact within the department due to his level of skill, which was so advanced that he had risen quickly through the ranks to top Unspeakable. He had a penchant for mischief, which in addition to his friendship with Malfoy, always kept her on her toes, but in the end he always came through for what she needed. Theo would likely deny it, but Harry and Hermione considered him a friend.

He eyed the bag in her hands and his eyebrow lifted. “So Draco ended up using my spells? How…” Theo paused, his lips curling impishly as he looked her up and down.

 “Unfortunate.”

She ignored the tug at her core when Malfoy’s given name was spoken.

Hermione shifted under his gaze. “Yes, I hate to admit it but your spellwork saved us.”

Theo’s smirk turned rather feline. “I’m not surprised in the least. You should know by now that everything I do is top notch.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes. All hail Theo the Great. Now, can you please take this from me? I want to be able to make it down to the library to write the report.”

“I prefer Nottstradamus. You know like that Muggle philosopher who could predict--”

“Theo.”

“Fine, fine. Bring it to my desk then.”

Hermione wanted to protest, to shove the bag into his hands and leave, but she knew Theo would find some way to make a scene about it. So she followed him with another heavy sigh. As soon as they made it to his desk she watched his name plate come to life as it displayed “Theo the Magnificent.”

She dropped the bag on his desk with a loud thump.

If Theo had a problem with her handling of the object, he didn’t show it. Rather he sat down and pulled out a roll of parchment and began scribbling on it. Hermione waited for him to finish, her foot tapping and eyes wandering around the office. She watched the other Unspeakables file paperwork or wrangle other magical objects, her mind straying to soft spoken praise and strong muscles. When she turned back to check on Theo’s progress, her eyes caught the bright packaging of a WWW Puking Pastille in his rubbish bin, but before she could question Theo about it, a piece of parchment obscured her view entirely.

Hermione met Theo’s gaze briefly before she took the paper he presented to her. It had all of the relevant information on the object, such as the location it was acquired from, the date, and the time already filled out.

“How did you know all of this already?” she asked, her eyes lifting from the paper.

Theo shrugged. “Robards called me just before you arrived.”

Hermione watched him for a few more beats, noting a slight twitch of his lip. She wondered briefly if he was lying, but brushed the feeling aside. She just wanted to finish up today so she could get to that glass of wine. She’d question him about it tomorrow if it was still bugging her. She read through the rest of the paperwork and double-checked it once more before signing the bottom.

As she handed it back to him she asked, “The Statue of Plato?”

Theo checked for her signature and his eyes flicked up to hers. “Yes.”

“Is it named after the Muggle philosopher?”

Theo nodded. “We believe so. Rumour has it that when the statue was in Muggle possession, they believed the curse was confirmation of Plato’s soulmate theory. It was kept in a hidden temple on the outskirts of Athens until a particularly barmy wizard came upon it, recognized it for what it is, and brought it to England. It’s been passed down in their family ever since. I suppose they left it there after abandoning the manor for whatever reason, and without maintenance on the wards the curse resumed.”

Hermione hummed her agreement, relieved to no longer be in possession of the thing.

“So then you and Draco…”

The knot tightened abruptly and her face ignited. “It would have been nice to have known this information before we went in there.”

Theo smiled slyly. “You two were all tangled up then, were you?”

“More like nearly fused together!”

“Hmm crammed together, yes. Tell me Granger, were so close that you could feel his--”

“I’m leaving!” she cut in, her face beet red from anger and embarrassment. “Send me your reference number once you’re done so I can reference it in my report!”

She didn’t look back at the grin she knew was on Theo’s face as she fled to the library.

§

As usual, several hours of writing reports while being surrounded by books was the cure Hermione needed for all of her worries. She’d completely brushed off the Malfoy predicament, letting the blame lie with The Statue of Plato and packing it away to discuss with Ginny in the far future when she was no longer pregnant and could get absolutely trollied with her. Until then, she would go back to the way things were before this morning. 

Her stomach fluttered in objection but she filed the feeling away, promising herself that a good wank tonight would make it disappear completely.

With a flick of her wand her workspace cleared up as books returned to their rightful places and her neatly folded reports flew through the Ministry to Robard’s desk. Hermione stood with a stretch, her wrinkled Auror uniform dotted with several ink stains she would have to get out later. She sighed, ready to be out of her work clothes and into her jim jams, wine glass in hand, and movie on the telly. 

Hermione tucked her wand back in her holster before heading back through the stacks towards the entrance, walking at a languid pace as the day’s drama weighed on her shoulders.

She couldn’t wait to take her bra off and relax in the hot water of her tub. Maybe she’d start drinking there. Maybe she would read the newly released novel she’d been dying to start. Maybe, she’d do a bit of both but right before that, when the water was scolding hot, she would reach down and touch the aching spot between her legs thinking of a certain deep, sultry voice and tobacco and bergamot as she--

Her thoughts were abruptly halted by a large hand grabbing her arm and dragging her further into the bookcases.

Hermione’s hand immediately flew to her wand and it was in her hand and pointed at her assailant within seconds. Her arm was dropped as her gaze met a familiar sneer and a head of white blonde hair.

“Put your wand away, Granger. I just want to talk,” Malfoy drawled, his voice a low hiss despite them being tucked back in the stacks. She was pretty sure they were alone as most of the staff had left for the day and no one else in the Ministry lingered in the books as long as she did.

“Why?” she said, lowering her wand.

Malfoy snorted and gave her an incredulous look.

She glared at him, “Well? What is it?”

He shook his head indignantly, “Since I must spell it out for you, you’ve been pointedly avoiding me since this morning.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you. I was writing my reports.”

Malfoy scoffed, “Right. You came all the way down here to write your reports when I’ve seen you writing plenty of them at your desk.”

“I came down here to get some peace and quiet,” she huffed, “I’ve had quite the day no thanks to you. ”

Her voice had escalated on the last syllable, the sound of it echoing around them. Malfoy grimaced and grabbed her by the wrist, leading her gently so they were deeper in the hundreds of bookcases. The heat from his body radiated through her wrist, reminding her of how all of him felt pressed against her. She yanked her wrist from his grasp.

“Stop!”

Malfoy halted in his tracks, turning towards her louder voice to give her a chastised look.

“Must you be so loud?”

She felt her cheeks warm as her frustration from earlier came roaring back to the surface, “Must you drag me further into the library? It hardly seems necessary!”

“What’s unnecessary Granger, is snubbing your obvious feelings!” Malfoy said, his clipped words contrasted by the pain hiding behind his silver stare. It caught her off guard, nearly making her stumble back with his accusation.

“W-what feelings?” she stuttered.

He glared at her, “I thought they called you the brightest witch of your age?”

“And they still call you a Death Eater no matter how many people you’ve saved,” she retorted, regretting her words as Malfoy flinched. The fists he had at his side flexed along with the tight muscle of his jaw as he chose his next words.

“I’m quite aware how they view me,” he muttered under his breath, his voice a mixture of hurt and anger as he eyed the shelf to the right of them. “But I don’t care how they feel about me.”

His eyes flicked up to hers, the grey storm reflecting many emotions at once. Hermione couldn’t decide which he felt more at this moment. She slowly put her wand away in a silent gesture of surrender. She wasn’t sure what to say, but it hardly mattered as Malfoy continued talking.

“Look, Granger, I know I was just about the worst child you’ve ever known and still haven’t outgrown my arsehole personality.” She snorted at that and crossed her arms over her chest. “But I’m not so daft to not see how things have changed between us.”

“This morning was--”

“This morning was no exception,” he corrected her before she could object. “You like to sit there and pretend that I mean nothing to you, that I don’t affect you, but I know you better than you think. You’ve always put your needs aside for everyone else’s.”

Hermione swallowed, not enjoying his accurate assessment of her. “I don’t see what this has to do with u--”

Us.

She had almost said it. Almost admitted that whatever was going on between the two of them had been going on for a while, and that it came to a head this morning. 

He hadn’t been incorrect in his observation. This morning wasn’t the first time they’d been put on a mission together. Every time it happened they were wildly successful, a dream team, but Hermione was scared of her growing attraction to Malfoy, and therefore requested that Robards never put them together. Malfoy was right in that she worried too much about what others would think, so much so that she’d shoved her feelings away. She had no logical reason for it other than cowardice.

Not only had Malfoy apologised years ago and proved to her he was different, he worked with Harry and Ron often as well. He was a good Auror and dare she say, quite a good man as well.

“Granger,” Malfoy prodded, the deep timbre of his voice causing her to meet his gaze again. “What happened this morning, what you felt, it wasn’t some fluke. It’s been building for months, since we started fighting for number one Auror. Hell, since the first gala Robards made us attend where you were wearing that black dress with that damn slit on the side that made you look fucking delectable .”

Hermione blushed at his compliment, her arms squeezing around her side as she rebuffed him, “You looked quite handsome too, but Malfoy, just because we find each other attractive doesn’t mean--”

“Fuck that!” Malfoy exclaimed, the escalation in his voice startling her, “I take it back. You are daft. You really are going to sit there and claim that this feeling that we both feel doesn’t mean something to you?”

“I--”

“You’re going to stand there and continue to skirt around the chemistry we have? Why?!” He was ranting now, the storm in his eyes frenzied as he tried to convey his frustrations, “Because of what Robards would think? There’s no rules not dating coworkers, trust me, I’ve looked.”

“Malfoy--”

“Is it because of Potter?” he spat. “Because I could give zero fucks what he, or anyone else thinks. You can either continue to ignore this feeling between us and I will finally leave you alone or you can sit here, tell the fucking truth and--”

“Fine!” she cut in, her heart thundering in her chest as she admitted, “I fancy you! Are you happy now? Is that what you--”

Hermione was cut off by his lips on hers, the same ravenous fervour from their row continuing on as he swallowed her arguments. She was a bit stunned at first, stiff from the shock of his actions, but it didn’t take more than a moment for her to melt under his touch. 

“Not…happy…” he breathed between musings of his lips, “Fucking…delirious…”

She kissed him back harder, desperate for what she’d been denying herself. One hand was fisted in his shirt, the other wrapped around the wand holster on his chest as she pulled him closer, wanting to be like they were this morning; without any space between them.

“Euphoric…” he mumbled, the hands that had been cupping her face when they first joined drifted lower. One was just behind her ear, holding her neck steady as the other drifted down the tight muscles of her neck. He followed its path with his hot mouth as he pressed more kisses onto the soft skin there. Hermione leaned back into the bookshelf, trying to find any sort of support as Malfoy continued his ministrations.

“Rapturous…” he spoke softly into her skin, his nose pressed into the side of her neck and his mouth hovering over the hollow of her throat. The feel of his warm breath against her cool skin made her shiver. Malfoy looked up at her then, eyes hooded, the grey a tempered storm underneath. The expression sent a bolt straight to her core, and the desire burned through every nerve, urging her to bring him closer, to take more .

“Mad…” he continued, voice hoarse as he lowered his mouth to hover above her clothed breast, “You’re looking at me like you did this morning, Granger. Shall I put my mouth on you? Nip and suck at you until you’re begging me for more?”

She wanted to say he already had and she already wanted that, but all that she’s able to accomplish is a hurried nod of her head. Malfoy bit at her, the pressure right on top of her hard nipple but stifled by her white oxford and the padding of her bra. It’s just a tease, enough to send her mind reeling at the possibility of how his lips and that pressure would feel against the sensitive skin there.

“You need to say it out loud, love,” he said, his voice low but just as commanding as before. Her clit throbbed, the feeling from earlier much more intense now that he was actually touching her. His other hand dropped to cup her unattended breast, his fingers splayed across it easily. 

Hermione arched into his touch, craving more, needing more.

“Please,” she muttered wantonly.

Malfoy smiled a wolfish grin, looking up at her through his fair eyelashes as he asked, “Please what, love?”

Frustrated and more than flustered, she let go of his wand holster and reached for her own shirt, popping the buttons open and pulling the bra underneath down. Hermione was initially embarrassed by her desperate disrobing, but the worry disappeared the moment she saw Malfoy’s pupils dilate at the sight before him. She raised her chin proudly, her own lust elevated with the hunger in his eyes. Malfoy’s nostrils flared and she could see his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as his eyes devoured her bare chest. Her nipples hardened more at the cold air, pulling the skin tighter and only adding to her arousal.

“Naughty girl,” Malfoy chided playfully before brushing his fingertips over the raised flesh.

Hermione couldn’t fight the low moan from escaping her mouth. Despite their hard work as Aurors, Malfoy’s hands were miraculously soft, likely one of his necessary preenings that came from his pompous lifestyle. He repeated the motion and Hermione found that she didn’t quite mind said lifestyle. Hands still on her breasts, Malfoy lifted his face to kiss her again. His tongue slid into her mouth with ease, pressing promises of its ability into the softness of her mouth as his lips moved over hers again and again.

His fingers flicked at her and he swallowed the moan it elicited. Her clit throbbed at his dominance over her entire body, aching for more of his body against hers. As if in response to her thoughts, the leg Malfoy had between hers, in exactly the same position as this morning, pushed forward. The motion brought them closer together, the outline of his hard cock pressing her exactly where she wanted. Her hips moved to grind against it, but he pulled back ever so slightly so her actions were for naught. He broke the kiss and before she could protest, his mouth was at her ear.

“I only reward good girls,” he purred, his breath caressing her.

Hermione’s head rocked backward on instinct, the back of her head thudding against the bookshelf though she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

“I can be good,” she promised, her voice quiet and needy. She wasn’t sure where it came from, but she meant every word. Her body was on fire. She was a creature of desire and this man, this infuriating but somehow charming and attractive man, could set her completely ablaze with a single swipe of his finger if he just--

She caught a flash of his wand and felt his magic caress her as his second silencing spell of the day enveloped both of them.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” he said, a wicked smile across his face. “A certain stubborn, stunning witch nearly made me come in my trousers earlier today, so I’m also a tad eager...”

Hermione opened her mouth to return the sass, but was immediately cut off by Malfoy’s thumb rubbing her slit over the fabric of her trousers. Her body jerked forward at the satisfying touch, seeking the pressure needed to push her over the edge. Malfoy went back to snogging her, applying generous pressure that moved in sync with this tongue and lips. She moaned into his mouth and squirmed under his touch.

Her body was deliciously heated now, but the frottage wasn’t enough.

Feeling eager and rather bold, she pulled her mouth from Malfoy’s, taking a cursory look down before palming him over his trousers. He groaned into her neck as his hips bucked at her touch.

“Impatient witch,” he hissed through his teeth.

Hermione stroked the head of his cock with her thumb before running her hands tantalisingly over his entire length. Malfoy put his mouth on hers again, adding more pressure to her clit as they kissed. She lost track of time as they snogged while rubbing each other through their clothing like teenagers, desperate and eager for every touch.

Finally done with teasing, she pulled her mouth away from him, releasing his cock and grabbing at the hand he had over her chest. Malfoy’s expression softened with confusion, his swollen lips and flushed cheeks almost endearing, but Hermione didn’t want this innocent look to linger longer than it needed.

She sucked his long fingers into her mouth, letting her tongue caress the underside of them as she covered them completely. Malfoy’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he shuddered.

“Fuck, that shouldn’t feel as good as it does.”

When his eyes slowly opened again, his pupils were blown wide. “I feel like I’m seventeen again,” he muttered to himself as he gently thrust his fingers in and out of her mouth. 

His gaze was locked on the motion as Hermione’s spit covered his hand. She didn’t mind, not with the heated look he was giving her. She’d never done anything so crass before and was surprised to find that she was growing wetter with every flick of his fingers into her mouth.

Malfoy stopped and she sucked at him even harder, eliciting another deep groan from his chest. When he pulled his fingers from her mouth she nearly mourned the loss, but a moment later she realised her teasing had succeeded.

“Pull down your trousers.” Malfoy spoke in a low voice, his chest moving up and down with every laboured breath.

Hermione followed the instruction, earning a breathy, “Good girl.”

The shiver from the praise was a full-body sensation: starting at the top of her head, flowing down past her hard nipples, and ending at her throbbing clit. Before she could fully process the out of control want she had for him, his fingers were back in her mouth. She knew what he wanted without needing to hear the directive, sucking and sliding her tongue between his fingers.

“Fuck yes,” Malfoy panted, “That’s good.”

Hermione hummed and her agreement vibrated through the both of them before Malfoy pulled away from her mouth. When his soaked fingers met her dripping cunt a few moments later, he cursed again.

“You’re so wet,” he said as the pads of his fingers gently brushed past her clit and between her folds, “Is this all for me?”

She sucked in a sharp breath of air at the contact, her thoughts simultaneously in a million places and focused on that single point of connection between them. Her eyes were strewn shut as he teased her entrance again, peppering kisses along her jaw as his thumb circled her clit. Hermione’s hips bucked, but he made no further move.

“Answer my question,” he demanded, his breath hot on her neck.

“Y-yes,” she breathed.

Malfoy nipped at her pulse. His fingers were right there all she needed was one little…

“It’s for you.”

She felt his smile into her neck seconds before he entered her, then she was lost to only that sensation. His mouth was on hers again while he stroked the inside of her, his tongue slow despite the rhythm his hand sought after. With every pump he stroked her clit and Hermione was pushed closer and closer to the edge, the buildup nearly unbearable. When she broke the kiss to catch her breath, Malfoy moved to her nipples again, sucking and biting at the sensitive flesh and making her moan praises. Then, he sucked hard at one nipple, flicking her clit, and hooking his fingers up inside her all at once.

The symphony of sensations crescendoed to an all time high and flooded her brain with sweet release. She shattered with a loud cry, her hips thrusting onto Malfoy’s now still hand as she rode his fingers with the rest of her orgasm. As she was coming down, he kissed her breasts, muttering praises into her skin as she took deep breaths in and out.

When he slowly withdrew his fingers from inside her, she shuddered and let out a shaky breath. If she thought she’d miss the way it felt with his fingers in her mouth, she was sorely mistaken for how it would feel to not have him inside her cunt. She wondered briefly where that feeling was coming from; she certainly had never felt that way about anyone else. But there was no time to dwell on those thoughts, for Malfoy was sucking his fingers into his own mouth.

His low rumble of approval reverberated through his entire body and with how close they were, Hermione felt it too. His eyes were closed again and when he opened them once more the grey clouds that were his irises swirled with lust. Their gazes met with what felt like a crackle of lightning between them and he reached down to undo the buckle of his trousers, only to stop before he opened them.

“Can I…”

“Yes,” she cut in.

Because she wanted to see him. All of him. She wanted to memorise the shape and weight of him. To know that she can give him the pleasure he just gave her. It was something she’d wanted for longer than she’d like to admit, and now that the opportunity was staring her in the face, she was not going to let it go.

Malfoy must see all of this in her eyes because he did just that, unbuckling his trousers and pulling his cock from his pants in one quick motion. He was bigger than anyone else she’d been with, the smooth skin of his cock a shade darker than his pale skin, and uncut too from the looks of it. The girth alone was enough to make her question if she could take all of him, but she quickly dismissed that train of thought. Hermione did love a challenge after all.

Noticing her staring, Malfoy pumped his cock once, pulling the skin up and down his shaft as his hips shifted. Hermione swallowed, her body tingling all over at the thought of that beautiful cock inside of her. When she lifted her gaze to meet his eyes again, he was watching her eagerly, an arrogant glint in his eyes. She could scold him for it; call off the whole thing and head home, but there was something sexy about that smirk now that she'd given in.

It was as if he had wanted the praise from her , and since she’d so enthusiastically given it with her staring, he was…

Euphoric…

“Enchanting…”

Her voice left her in a whisper, but Malfoy apparently heard it because he squeezed himself again, caressing her breast with his other hand as he did, and his hips stuttered with the motion. He was already breathing heavily again, playing with her nipple as he stroked himself. Oh , it felt amazing, but this wasn’t what she wanted. No, she--

“Malfoy I want---”

His hand came off of her breast and hovered below her bottom lip, stopping her as he said, “Spit.”

She did as he asked, unsure what he was thinking, but immediately bit her tongue as he brought her spit down to the tip of his cock, mixing it with his precum as he rubbed himself more. Hermione exhaled, her breath unsteady as she watched him work himself up. First slow, then steadily faster.

“You like that?” he asked.

She nodded in response, feeling herself getting wet again from the neediness in his deep voice.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Her body was already heating up again, burning brain cells and lighting every nerve end on fire. She reached down to relieve the pressure that was building in her core, seeking release though she’d just came. Malfoy stopped her hand with his right hand, releasing it softly and switching it out with his left. Then, he was pumping his cock and entering her with his fingers again.

She cried out with pleasure at the sudden intrusion, fighting the urge to completely close her eyes so she could continue to watch him pleasure himself. 

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?”

Hermione bobbed her head fervently, wanting nothing more than for Malfoy to sink his cock into her.

“I need you to say it,” he said, his voice sounding more pleading than demanding.

“Please, Draco.”

She didn’t know why she called him by his given name, it had just felt right in the moment, and she was instantly rewarded by her lover as he crushed his mouth to hers with a growl. His impatience unravelled him quickly, and he broke the kiss and bent down. His arms were around her arse before she could process that he’d lowered himself and he was lifting her up into the air without effort, holding her aloft with his arms alone.

“Wait, my trousers, let me…”

“Hold onto the bookshelf,” was all he said in response.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest again but was cut off by one of Malfoy’s hands reaching around her to grab her wrists.

“Granger,” he said, the authority back in his voice, “Hold. On.” 

He pulled her wrists up and she followed their trajectory as she shifted her arms so that she was gripping the bookcase behind her. She slotted her elbows on either side of his shoulders and leaned back to press her shoulders more into the shelf for support. Malfoy held her with firm arms under her arse as she situated herself, then once she was holding on tight he leaned back and flipped her legs onto his chest. She was wedged between him and the bookcase, her trousers pulled around her ankle, and bare cunt exposed to him. 

Hermione silently thanked her Auror training that gave her not only the flexibility to hold this position, but also the strength. Then, she thanked whatever higher power was out there because with the new angle she could feel the head of Malfoy’s cock perfectly aligned with her wet cunt.

She was grateful too for the silencing spell on them. She was sure they looked like a pair of desperate idiots with the way they were both mostly still in their uniforms, pressed up against a bookshelf. Professional? Absolutely not. Sexy? Incredibly so. But she was given no time to contemplate that thought further, for Malfoy slid into her with a single thrust of his hips and her mind ceded to pleasure once again.

They both groaned at their coupling, and for the first time that day Hermione was relieved she was so worked up before they did this. She felt so unbelievably full and it was a feeling so unlike any other time she’d had sex. It wasn’t that her previous partners were lacking per se, but it was more that Malfoy fit into her perfectly, hitting every spot in her with delicious pressure. As soon as the thought was out it almost felt silly, that was until he started moving and then it rang with absolute clarity.

Because, as he thrust into her the friction from his uncut cock felt like ecstasy.

Hermione moaned, giving away to the pleasure as her head rested on the bookshelf. Malfoy must have felt the same because his praises were no longer elegant and coherent sentences, but rather muffled curses under his breath. Every other thrust she could actually make out some coherency. It was mostly:

“-- fuck , you feel divine--”

“--your cunt was made to take my cock--”

“--yeah, just like that--”

She hardly minded.

In fact, she preferred this version of Malfoy; unrestrained and lost to his more carnal feelings. She wished she could take her hands off of the shelf and thread her fingers in his hair or feel his taut muscles underneath her palms as he thrust into her, but she would most definitely fall down if she did that. Malfoy’s face was on one side of her folded legs, close enough that their breaths mingled but too far to join their mouths together. So she caved into the pleasure, relishing every delightful push from Malfoy’s hips as they met hers again and again.

Hermione’s body was climbing towards the peak of another climax, her legs flexing and twitching with her impending release. Malfoy apparently was also at his limit, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic. To her surprise, he shifted his hold so her arse was resting only in his right arm, not faltering in the movement of his hips as he continued to support her. Before she could question the change, the thumb of his dominant hand was on her clit again and he was plunging his cock impossibly deeper into her.

She came apart instantly, her body shaking as her second orgasm rippled through her. Malfoy’s hand dropped away from her clit so he could hold her with both hands again and he chased his orgasm with the residual flutters of her still sensitive cunt and a low groan.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his hips stuttering with one last thrust before he pulled out.

He set her down gently, both boneless and breathless in the afterglow of their hasty relations. She felt hot and sticky between her legs, both of their bodies covered in sweat, but she felt far from embarrassed. 

No, she was thoroughly shagged and utterly satisfied.

Her legs shook when they met solid ground again, her arms dropping from where they were above her to settle on Malfoy’s chest. He held her steady as she regained her balance. Their foreheads were pressed together as their breathing evened out, then he was kissing her again.

It was gentle and sweet, rooted in something more than just rabid lust and it made her chest squeeze. He peppered one more kiss on her lips before drawing his wand. His magic washed over her, a caress as soft as his kiss moments ago and she was cleaned up and her clothes righted. He did the same for himself before dispelling the charm that thankfully had upheld around them.

Malfoy reached out, his fingers brushed softly against her cheek as he tucked a curl behind her ear. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks, surprised that he still had that effect on her after what they just did.

“We should get stuck together more often Granger,” Malfoy drawled, the usual nonchalant edge it had negated by a pleased gleam in his eyes.

Hermione released a huff of air that turned into a laugh. Malfoy’s mouth was downturned, the amusement in his eyes fading at her continued laughter. She smacked him playfully across the chest and he pouted as he caught her hand. The expression was surprisingly adorable, and she found herself leaning in and kissing him at the thought.

He kissed her back and she swore it was the happiest she’d been in a long time.

§

The next day…

Hermione smiled at the beautiful bouquet of magenta lilacs, pink carnations, and white roses sitting on her desk. Though she had no window in her particular corner of the bullpen, there seemed to be a glittering light over the flowers. She took in a deep breath, inhaling their pleasant aroma, pleased that it permeated around her desk and masked the otherwise unpleasant smells of the DMLE. As she inhaled again, she caught an underlying scent of heavy spices and her smile widened even more than she thought possible.

Nestled next to the vase was takeaway from her favourite muggle Thai restaurant, still steaming and wonderfully preserved with a stasis charm. She set down the things in her arms on the desk and sat down, more than ready to tear into the food her lover left for her, pausing as soon as she spotted a note tucked into the flowers.

Written in an aggravatingly elegant script was:

Granger,

I seem to have made a breakthrough in the Jacobson case and I’ll need you to meet me in the library at your earliest convenience.

DLM

Hermione tucked the note into her pocket, face heated from the memories associated with the Ministry’s library. Her glee was temporary, cut off by the figure now standing in front of her desk.

Clearing her throat she inquired, “Theo, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Theo’s eyes didn’t meet hers, focused instead on the ostentatious bouquet between them.

“Potter owes me lunch,” Theo supplied, tone disinterested.

Hermione hummed in response, begging Merlin silently that Theo would fight against his instincts and keep his mouth shut. She, of course, was unlucky.

“And who left these gorgeous things on your desk?” He tilted his head to the side and added with a low whistle, “Oh and some delicious lunch too. How thoughtful.”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers as she exhaled. When she opened her eyes to give her retort, they met a set of familiar bright green eyes instead of Theo’s. She gave Harry a pleading look and he gave her a confused scrunch of his eyebrows in return until his eyes dropped quickly down to the bouquet and then the mischievous wizard beside him.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest.

Thank god the number one Auror is on her side.

“I think you know who that’s from Theo. Don’t be an arsehole,” he said, giving Theo a chastising look.

Theo glared at the both of them before extending his hand, palm up towards Harry, “Pay up Potter.”

Hermione felt her jaw drop in disbelief, but she didn’t let it hang there for long. It snapped back into place as she watched her best friend hesitate, jaw flexing as he pushed up his glasses on his nose. It was his tell.

“Harry, you did not!”

Harry sighed and dropped his arms to reach into his pocket, “I’m sorry, Hermione. You know how Theo is and I was cheering for you and Malfoy, but with how you were with Ron, I thought it would take longer.”

“Harry James Potter you bet on--”

“You set this up, didn’t you?” Harry cut in, shoving a few galleons towards Theo, who had a wicked grin plastered across his smug face.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the mischievous wizard replied, his voice saccharine, “A win is a win,” he said with a wink.

~Fin~