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Hermione needed a rebound, but not one of those she used to flaunter around for everyone and their mothers to see and make her ex-boyfriend jealous, no. If there was anything Hermione missed from her relationship with Quidditch star Oliver Wood, it was the sex. 

She wouldn't go as far as to say that sex with Oliver had been the best sex of her life, but it was more than regular, it was a daily sort of affair, what with all his athlete stamina, Hermione kept herself fairly busy between Oliver Wood’s sheets. Before her relationship with the Irish, Hermione hadn’t considered herself an overly sexual being, she had her needs, yes, but she wouldn’t call herself this ‘sexual temptress’ who needed to be fucked at every waking hour of the day. 

But oh, how wrong she’d been. Oliver had been the third man with whom she’d been intimate after her short month-long relationship with Ron right after their Hogwarts graduation. Which had consisted of sloppy, unsatisfactory sex and lots of hanging out at her flat or the Burrow with his family. She soon realized it was never going to work and ended the relationship before things escalated further. The relief in Ron’s eyes had been palpable, if not sort of offensive, but she’d decided to ignore the sentiment. Neither of them wanted each other and that was fine. 

A year later she’d found herself at a Hogwarts alumni party where Oliver had immediately struck up a conversation with her, and did not end until they were the very last two to leave. The next day he’d sent an Owl inviting her on a date, and the rest was history. 

Now, three years later, she’s at the Nott-Pott household, drinking herself to oblivion two weeks after her very public break up with the Quidditch star, with a bunch of snakes and lions. It had been the surprise of the century when for their 8th year, the Slytherins and Gryffindors had put their pasts behind and united forces, which then led to forming a huge friend group that to this day is as inseparable as they come. 

She was sitting on Theodore’s new and (very expensive), suede sofa, nursing her 4th firewhisky of the night as she tuned out Malfoy’s yammering to Pansy on his recent breakup to pureblood socialite Astoria Greengrass. She had enough shit on her plate to listen to someone else’s problems at this very second, especially considering how this wasn't the first time it happened. Same old, same old, story of their on again and off again relationship. He had even talked to her about it before, and Hermione wasn't one who appreciated sharing her insights and her thoughts only to be ignored time and time again. She had already given up hope that Malfoy’s actions would ever change in regards to Astoria. He was too far gone. Admittedly, they were in their early 20’s and it was fair to lose yourself in love and despair, especially after all they’d been through on their youths, but how many times do you have to break up and get back together with someone until you understand that you might just be looking for answers in the same place you lost them? 

“Alright there my lioness?” Theodore sat beside her and hugged her by the shoulders. 

“Yes, I’m good.” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. Thedore was the softest of them all, and despite his fiery and playful personality, he understood her the best. So he clearly got the hint that she did not want to talk about Oliver. 

“On a right estate, the old chap, isn't he?” he said, chuckling lightly at his best friends incessant talking. Malfoy was most likely very drunk, it was his telltale to become chatty when he was sloshed. Enough drunk late nights in the 8th year common room for her to catch up on his ways. Draco Malfoy was a creature of habit. 

She nods, “I feel like I’ve seen him like this more often than not now.” 

“Yeah, I like Astoria, but she can be a right bitch to him when she wants to.” 

“I wouldn't put all the blame on her,” she says. “Malfoy’s still there because he wants to be, he should know better by now.”

Theo chuckles again, “It’s not that easy,”

“What isn't? I realized Oliver didn't love me anymore and I left and haven't looked back.” She knew it was different, they had started drifting apart a few months before she broke things up definitely. And really, all situations were different, but she couldn't picture herself staying where she clearly isn't wanted anymore. 

Theo turns to look at her now, and she knows what he’s about to say before he says it. “But did you ever actually love Oliver?” 

“Of course, I did.” 

“But were you in love with him?”

She’s silent. 

“Exactly.”

They are both silent. 

“I swear Pans, this is the last time. I’m not going back anymore.” The swotty brunettes both turn to their to listen on their friends' conversation, and after a few moments share a look.

The look does not go unnoticed by the tall blond. “What? What was that look?” he glowers at them. 

Hermione and Theo burst out laughing. 

“I’ll prove it, you little shits! Let’s go to the muggle club that you like, Granger, I’ll find a lady and take her home.” Hermione’s interest is picked, she curves a calculating eyebrow at him. 

“Draco––” says Pansy beside him, clearly concerned by her friend’s drunk and impulsive decision making.

“That proves absolutely nothing, Malfoy.” says Hermione. 

“Yes it does, I haven't shagged anyone that’s not Astoria since our 8th year romp Granger, that was almost 5 years ago.” 

Hermione blushes furiously at the reminder of that day they never talked about. All of their friends knew, but it was nothing but a drunken mistake. Her loss of virginity drunken mistake to be precise. She didn't really remember much of it. 

“Well that’s it!” Theodore perks up, immediately standing up from the sofa with a devilish smirk on his face. “You two should shag each other.”

“You’re mad,” says Malfoy.

“Absolutely not,” says Hermione. 

Theo groans, “Why not? You two have always have this intense fucking tension, it is only obvious that you two should use each other. Both recently single, both broken hearted––”

“I am not broken-hearted––” interrupts Hermione.

“Silence, child. I’m speaking,” The brunette Slytherin admonishes. “As I was saying, you both are trying to move on, you both need a rebound and a good shag, and you argue so much you could never fall in love with each other. It’s perfect, really! I’m a genius.”

“You’ve officially lost the plot.” Hermione turns to look at the rest of the small party, but everyone seems to be doing their own thing except for the three Slytherins, who are porting equally pensive expressions on their faces. “Right? Pansy? You agree with me don't you? This is an outrageous idea.” she laughs nervously. 

“I think you might have lost me on this one Granger, Theo does seem to make a fair point.”

“I make the best point!” he argues. 

Hermione surveys the room, looking for her spectacled best friend. “Where’s your husband Thedore? I need him to knock some sense into you.” 

“Probably barfing his guts out in our loo.” Ah, classic sensitive-tummy-ed Harry. 

“Of course he is.” she huffs, because where is that man when you need him? “What about Ginny?”

“Shagging Blaise on our garden,” he shrugs. “Not that she would ever agree with you, have you met that woman? You forget she once proposed we should all have an orgy.” 

Hermione shudders. Ginevra Weasley was indeed sex crazed, nobody could keep up with her but her husband. “I guess you are right.” She doesn't really have any more options other than having the other could-be-participant disagree with Theo.

“Malfoy? You are awfully quiet and it’s quite disconcerting.” 

“I’m thinking, Granger.” 

“What is there to think about? This is not happening, so just say no, so Thedore can drop it for once.” 

The blond takes a sip of his drink and sets it down on the coffee table with determination. “I think we should do it.” 

“Out of the question.” 

“Come on Granger, Theo is right. We both need it, we have an amazing history for some great angry sex, and I could never fall in love with you.”

“What a way to make a woman feel special, Malfoy. If I wasn't convinced before, now I am in for sure.” she rolls her eyes. It wasn't that she was offended per se, but was she really that awful that he couldn't even fathom the idea? It was more of an ego thing to her than real interest in Malfoy, but still, it sort of stung to know she was so unappealing to him. 

“It’s nothing personal, Granger. It’s not like there’s some love lost between us.” But wasn't it personal? Because she was very much taking it personally, as much as it pained her to admit it. 

“Sure not.” 

“Just think about it.” he says. 

She doesn't dare dignify his request with an answer. “I’m going home.”

With much protest from everyone, she leaves. 

Not before catching Malfoy’s contemplative stare. 

…

Hermione doesn’t think about it until the blond wizard shows up on Friday at her office. He walks in like he owns the place, as always, dressed impeccably in a three piece muggle suit. One would think he’s doing it on purpose. 

“Granger,” 

“Malfoy.”

Unfortunately, this is not a rare occurrence, considering they do work for the same department in the Ministry, but she hates how awfully aware she is of his presence now. Malfoy commands the room with his pureblood poise and tall stance, the damn wizard had a growth spurt during the war and now stands at 1.90 meters, it should be a fucking crime to be that tall and handsome. Even with her own height which is perfectly average at 1.67, she barely reaches his shoulders. 

“How can I assist you today?” She also hates how robotical she sounds, it’s like she can’t even be fully comfortable around him anymore. 

“The Minister requested our attendance at the French Ministry New Years Gala next Saturday,” this wasn't something she didn't already know. After becoming the youngest Senior Undersecretary for Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, there was little she wasn't aware of, especially in this case, considering her participation in securing ties with the French Ministry. To say that Kingsley and the French Minister of Magic did not have the best political relationship was an understatement, Hermione spent weeks rubbing elbows and soothing the relationship between them with much effort. 

“And you came all the way to my office just to relay the message?” 

“Considering you’ve been avoiding my memos, yes.”

“I am busy Malfoy, don't flatter yourself thinking I would go out of my way to avoid your ceaseless messaging.” Although Hermione and Malfoy had managed to have a perfectly friendly relationship in a social setting, professionally, it was an entirely different thing. Their sparring could become so heated at a point where their friends had to intervene and make them take a magical bow not to speak of work outside of office hours. Throwing the bat bogey hex at each other had been the cherry on top.

“You’re impossible Granger,” he scoffed. “Just be here at six o’clock in the evening next Saturday, we are all taking a portkey together.” 

“Sure, whatever.” She waved him off and went back to work.

…

Hermione arrived at the Ministry with ten minutes to spare before the clock marked six. She wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of telling her she’s late like he obnoxiously tries to do every single time. When she reached Level 1 and stepped out of the lift, she was irritated to realize Malfoy had made it before her and seemed to be already engaged in conversation with Kingsley and Percy Weasley as well when she heard their voices talking over each other. She just could never have the upper hand with this man, could she? 

She approached the three wizards with her head held high.

“Ah, Hermione! Right on time,” Kingsley gave her a warm smile.

“Minister, Percy, Malfoy.” she nodded politely to all of them and she was sad to realize the standing spot open in their tiny circle was between Malfoy and Percy. 

“Cutting it close, Granger.” murmured the wizard currently standing on her last nerve as Percy and Kingsley engaged in their own discussion. 

“Oh shut it. I’m perfectly on time.” 

“And looking quite ravishing, if I do say so myself.” he smirks at her and she gives him a haughty look. 

“Drop it.” she warns. 

“Drop what? I’m just being polite.” he shrugs and gives her an innocent look that makes her want to slap him just like she did in third year. 

“Don't play daft, it doesn't suit you. I know what you’re trying to do.” And she hates that it’s working, because Hermione is not fucking blind, and she knows how to admit when someone is good-looking, but those two words fall short when it comes to describing the arrogant prat in front of her. And if she’s done it once, her body can't help but respond and want to do it twice. 

“Pray tell.” 

“You––”

“Time to go folks.” says Kingsley, saving the day, as he takes out an old red handheld fan portkey from his robes for all of them to grasp.

They arrive at a manor’s lavish garden with many flowers, sculptures, and fountains scattered around. From a distance, Hermione can make out the clusters of wizards and witches dressed in fancy clothes mingling and holding champagne flutes in their hands. Laughter and conversation can be heard with some music on the background, and everyone seems to be having actual fun. Hermione can only hope her evening won’t be as dull as it typically is on the social functions she’s usually forced to attend. 

“Well, go on all of you, you know how the French are about talking work during social functions, you are young, enjoy the soiree.” Kingsley ushers them all to spread around and do their own thing, once again Hermione wonders why they’re even here, occupational hazards, she thinks. 

She’s walking towards the bar when she feels the presence beside her, followed by a hand on the small of her back guiding her forwards. For the sake of not causing a scene, she doesn't react by pulling away but she does send a scathing look at the little ferret. “Get your hand off me now,” she growls. 

“Oh shush, you don't want to mingle with anyone here as much as I don't want to either. You’re stuck with me. So, let me be a gentleman and guide you.”

“I know how to get there myself.” she huffs but relents. “And you are not being a gentleman, you’re just trying to cop a feel.”

Malfoy barks a laugh, “You got me there, I was planning to slowly let my hand travel to your delectable arse in this pretty emerald green dress. Tell me Granger, did you wear it for me?” 

“You’re delusional, I don't dress myself for nobody.” She can admit that he did cross her mind when she chose the dress at the muggle boutique, but only because of the signature Slytherin colour.

“Oh, humor me won't you?” 

They reach the bar and Malfoy orders a firewhisky for him and champagne for Hermione. 

She raises an eyebrow at him.

“What? Don't read too much into it, swot. We’ve been to multiple functions like these by now, it’s hard to not notice your preference.” Hermione doesn't know why he does that, diminish and minimize what he does for her as if they were the most mundane things in the world. 

“Right.” she says, taking the flute of champagne and downing it in one go. She asks for another and ignores the look Malfoy gives her. Hermione starts walking away in the hopes that he won't follow her, but to her utter delight, he does. 

“Stop trying to escape me, would you?” 

“Why are you so adamant in trying to keep me company? You always bugger off to do your own thing at events like these, Malfoy.” 

“Well that was before because I was always with A––” he cuts himself off. 

Hermione scoffs, she’s all too aware of how he lived parading her around like his biggest prize, not that she didn't love the attention of course, the girl relished in being the center of attention, just like the blond wizard in her presence. “So what, you’re using me as your buffer now?

“Do you have to make everything so difficult?” He gives her an exasperated look, but dodges the question, not that she needs him to answer to know that he is. 

“I will not be your consolation prize, Malfoy.” she knows that she might be being too presumptuous, but why else would he be doing all of this? 

“It’s not like you wouldn't be using me for the same reason, Granger.” but would she? Hermione can't help but think that they want very different things, Malfoy is trying to make do for the love, company, and sex he won't be having with Astoria. While Hermione just wants the sex part, she might be hurt by the Oliver thing but she doesn't necessarily miss what she had with him.

“Why do you want it to be me? Why can't you find somebody else?” 

“Because it makes sense! I know what I would be getting myself into with you, just like you would with me. No complications, no jealousy, no compromises, just sex with someone I know I can trust.” 

“I don't think no strings sex is what you need to fill your Astoria void, Draco.”

“I am not trying to fill a void because nobody could replace her. I just need a distraction Granger, I need to not be thinking about her every second of every day.”

Hermione swallows hard, and stares at his grey eyes as his chest rises and falls with agitation. She doesn't know what to do, because deep down she knows that a distraction won't suffice for what he really needs. But she needs it too, the sex, the intimacy, the pleasure that makes her forget about everything that clouds her thoughts everyday. 

“Give me the night to think about it, okay? No promises.” 

“That’s all I need.” he gives her a wolfish grin and she knows he’s won already.

“Prat.” 

He laughs and takes her hand, “Come on Granger, let's dance.” 

They dance and drink all night.

They drink until they are drunk.

They dance until their feet hurt. 

They make conversation with some French men who flirt religiously with the both of them, and Hermione’s almost sure they were trying to offer a quartet, if she were any more daring, she would’ve been willing. 

Kingsley and Percy say their goodbyes at midnight and retire to the hotel where they would all be spending the night. Kingsley gives them a knowing look, Percy gives them a puzzled look as if trying to decipher what’s happening between his co-workers. 

The poor clueless sod. 

Five minutes later, Malfoy is apparating them into his personal suite overlooking the Eiffel Tower, because of course, a Malfoy wouldn't stoop as low as to stay at a regular room like a commoner. 

He’s letting her go and walking to his ensuite, where she hears him retrieve something from a drawer, thank Merlin for hotel services where you can deposit your luggage separately and have it sent to your rooms beforehand. 

He walks out with his suit jacket open and his tie undone. Two vials of purple liquid on his hand, sobering potion, of course. Malfoy places one on her hand, Hermione quirks an eyebrow. “I wont say I wasn’t hoping this would happen but I do always carry these with me for emergencies.” he says.

“How convenient.” she replies.

She’s not even that drunk, but she understands his precaution of wanting to be fully sober before they do anything. Besides, Hermione wouldn’t have wanted a repeat performance of their 8th year. 

They uncork it and down it all at the same time, never taking their eyes off each other. 

A minute seems to pass where they are just standing in front of the other, still fully clothed with the lights of the city outside reflecting inside the room and on their faces. They didn't even bother turning any lights on, they both knew what they were coming here to do, and it wasn't to have a friendly chat. The dim illumination from the streets was more than enough to create the perfect ambiance, where they could see each other but not feel entirely self-conscious of what they were doing. Hermione had always thought that having sex with all of the lights on felt too personal, too intimate, too vulnerable, and she wasn't ready to fully unravel like that with Malfoy just yet. 

“Are you going to kiss me or what?” the question comes out breathy, but she can't bear the silence anymore. 

With his signature Malfoy smirk he says, “I’m going to do more than kiss you tonight, Granger.” 

“So do it,” the words are barely out before he’s finally kissing her. His hands go directly to her neck and the side of her face, he’s placing tentative kisses on her lips at first, but she already knows there’s no coming back from this. Malfoy doesn't give her enough though, because he moves to plant kisses and kitten licks to her jawline and the hollow of her neck, but she just wants to kiss him, really kiss him. It hasn't been long since she’s kissed someone, but it had been years since something as simple as kissing had felt as exciting as kissing Draco Malfoy for the first time in 5 years. 

“Malfoy, please.” she moans as he continues her ministrations on her neck, sucking and biting lightly on her flesh. 

“Patience kitten,” he moves his hand to the nape of her neck, tugging at her loose curls to the side so he can move her head and gain better access to the space where her shoulder connects with her neck, and slowly moving towards her dress strap. “I’m going to undress you so, so slowly, and I’m going to drink up every inch of your body until you’re begging me to do something about it.”

“Oh gods,” she says as he moves her strap with his teeth, letting it fall to her arm. He’s back at her neck when both his hands disappear to her back and she hears the telltale sound of her dress being unzipped. Hermione can feel the goosebumps from the cold air that touches her back as it is revealed from its confines. Malfoy uses the tips of his fingers meticulously to just barely graze her skin and make her shiver, and then, he’s turning her to face away from him. 

“Look at this, I didn't think it was possible to be so turned on by the sight of someone’s back, but those little dimples above your arse are going to be the end of me.” he moves her curls towards her front and plants kisses on his way from the back of her neck through the rest of her body before coming back up. He goes to her remaining strap and slowly shoves it off so that the bodice is falling away. Hermione grasps the front with her hands until he instructs her to let it drop, at which she obliges, and lets it fall until the fabric is pooling at her feet. Leaving her in nothing but her white lacy knickers. 

She can hear Draco growl behind her, right as he grabs her hips and pushes her back to his front, where he grinds his clothed cock on her arse. “Can you feel what the sight of you is doing to me?” he says as he nuzzles her neck with his face, planting another soft kiss there. Hermione is sure by now she must have a couple of love bites, and honestly, she doesn't mind that he’s marked her. 

She can only nod at his question. “Imagine how good it will feel when I’m deep, deep inside you.” he sucks and bites on her earlobe and it makes her squirm. To think that she’s almost fully naked for him while he’s still fully covered is a sort of power play she never thought she would be into. 

“Please,”

“Please, what kitten?” he asks with a deep gravelly voice that has her wet and ready for him even from what little he’s done. 

“Please, touch me.” she begs him to do something, because as much as she loves his filthy mouth, it isn't nearly enough to feel some sense of satisfaction. 

“Turn around.” he commands and she obliges. “Fuck,” he says, his eyes landing on her tits, she needs him to put his mouth on them now, her nipples are so hard it’s killing her not to touch them and pinch them herself. 

As if reading her thoughts, his hands land on her, massaging and rolling her nipples with his long, elegant fingers. “You have the prettiest pair of tits I’ve ever seen, Granger. Full, perky, big, you are just desperate for me to suck on them aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes, please.” 

“Your wish is my command, my sweet.” his mouth lowers to one of her breasts and he’s sucking and licking them with such expertise it’s impossible for Hermione not to release a moan that has her clasping her hand over her mouth. Draco, catching the action, slaps her hand away and levels her with a deathly look. “Do not cover your mouth, do you hear me? I want to hear every single one of your breathy little noises, I am aching for you, Granger.” he returns to his ministrations over her tits, switching from one to the other, biting on them lightly and sucking on the skin around her areolas that leave red marks on her. 

“Do you like it? Do you like being marked by me, kitten?”

“Yes.” she gasps, and she doesn't really know why she’s liking it at all. She had always hated any signs of dominance or ownership in men’s attitude towards her, in and out of bed, but Draco just knows how to do it so well, she couldn't even think of telling him no. 

“Good girl.” He plants a single kiss on each one of her breasts before he’s standing at his full height again and pulling her in for an all consuming kiss that has her blood on fire. He uses his tongue now to nudge at the entrance of her mouth, playing with her tongue and giving gentle strokes, it’s amazing how good of a kisser he truly is. Is there anything this man doesn't know how to do?  “Lay on the bed for me,” he says.

Hermione sits on the edge of the bed and pushes herself a little bit upwards, giving him a naughty look with her doe eyes hoping to entice him into losing control, as much as she loves how he is taking his time, her patience is starting to wear thin. 

Draco gives her a look and quirks an eyebrow at her, then, slowly, he closes the space between them and grabs her neck with his hands, tilting her head up to look him straight in the eyes. “Open your mouth,” he says, and as she does, he looks down and smirks, before he’s spitting in her mouth. “Don't swallow it,” he says and she can only nod. Hermione had done many things in bed, but never this, she thought it was too demeaning, but Godric help her, it seems like she has no qualms when it comes to Draco Malfoy.

He starts unbuckling his belt and Hermione knows what’s coming, she can’t help but feel anticipation crawling up her spine. Even though this wasn't the first time they’d done this, Hermione hadn’t actually seen his cock. Their romp in 8th year had been a get it over and done kind of thing, they were both drunk and virgins. Out of everyone in their friend group, they were the only ones who hadn’t done the deed yet, so they decided to be each other’s first. There hadn't been anything special about it. They’d decided to do it hours before they did, and Hermione wanted to be drunk so she wouldn’t feel the pain her friends talked about, Draco hadn’t wanted to be the only one sober and decided to get drunk as well. It had been awkward and quick, truly nothing to reminisce about. 

This moment truly felt like their first time together, and Hermione couldn’t wait to do it all again. 

He throws the belt on the carpeted floor somewhere where they won't step on it and he waits, giving her a look that clearly communicates for her to do the rest herself. Reluctantly, she approaches him with trembling hands, the nervousness preventing her from being steady. 

“Unzip my trousers, kitten.”  

She starts with the button and then with the zip, grazing his cock with her hands at the motion, and making the man before her hiss loudly. As soon as his trousers are unzipped, Hermione fights the urge to gasp at seeing the outline of his cock on his light grey briefs where there’s already a small stain of his precum.

“Take my cock out and pull my briefs down.” 

And she does, using her hand which looks tiny in comparison to the huge sight of him, and grasps the soft skin of him taking him out of his boxers. 

“Take them off.” he growls. 

She pushes them off and then without waiting for instruction, with the spit still on her mouth that she hasn't dared shallow, she spits it right out and to the head of his cock, where she then licks the tip like she would an ice cream cone. “Oh fuck!”

Hermione uses her hand to lubricate his entire cock and gives it firm tugs from the base to head before she’s pushing as much as she can take into her mouth. “Fuck me, oh fuck, Granger. Just look at the sight you make with my cock stuffed into your pretty little mouth.” 

She lets his cock out with a pop, “Oh god, Draco.” she’s so fucking wet she must be dripping on the bedspread. 

“Didn't they teach you it’s uncouth to speak with your mouth full, Kitten? Put it back in.” Hermione follows his orders without question, and continues to hollow her cheeks and push him to the back of her throat until tears are rolling down her face. Draco wraps her full mane of curls in his fist and starts pumping his hips slowly, head thrown back in ecstasy, “You’re going to keep going until I come won't you, kitten? Tell me, would you rather I come in your beautiful tits or your mouth?” 

He pulls her head back and his cock out of her mouth, “Answer me,” 

“My m–mouth, please, Malfoy.” she would rather say she wants him to come when he’s inside her cunt, but she knows they’ll get there soon, so she doesn't.

“Whatever my kitten wants,” he says, immediately taking his cock in his hand and pushing it back into her mouth and starts pumping again, this time faster but careful not to make her choke on it, Hermione takes one of her free hands and takes his balls so he can rub them and stroke them slowly, “Fuck, I’m coming–– I’m gonna come,” and taking it as her cue, she starts bobbing her head faster, her motions on his balls becoming more meticulous as she hears from the noises he makes what probably works best to make him feel good. 

She uses her free hand and strokes what she cannot reach of his cock with the same pace she’s sucking on it until he’s whimpering and pushing his hips one more time into her mouth, his come coming out in thick spurts and hitting the back of her throat. “Oh shit, fuck, Hermione––” his cock twitches once more until he’s fully spent and she swallows all of it as she looks up at him with glazed eyes. 

The next second, he’s taking his clothes off, throwing them haphazardly all over the room, and then he’s on top of her, kissing her passionately until she’s squirming from need. “I’m going to make you come so hard for that, you won’t be able to remember anyone’s name but mine.” His lips start traveling down her body, planting kisses everywhere, while his right hand pushes under her knickers and finds her slick with the evidence of how desperately she wants him. “You’re so fucking wet.” he groans in her ear, and then he’s using his fingers to spread her arousal all over her cunt, until he finally, finally makes contact with her erect nub in urgent need of attention. He starts moving his fingers in slow circles around it, teasing her and not quite giving her what she wants. “Please, Draco, please. I’ve waited long enough.” 

He hums as he continues to move torturously slowly. “You really have, haven't you, sweetheart?” 

“Yes, yes, please make me come.” She tries her best to grind herself on his hand, but it’s useless because his hand has stopped moving. “No, Draco, why are you stopping?” she whines, but then he’s changing their positions and his back is to the bed while she’s on top.

“Sit on my face, kitten.” he instructs as he watches her confused expression. 

“Dra––Draco.” Hermione is only now realizing how many things she has missed out on. Of course, she’s received oral before but never has she sat on a man’s face. 

He slaps her arse sharply, “I said sit on my face, Granger, and let your whole weight fall on me like you would do a chair.” 

Obediently, she moves forward, but hesitates because she’s still wearing her knickers, Draco notices the hesitation and says, “Leave them on.” She keeps on moving until both her knees are on either side of his face, and she’s looking down at where her cunt is in immediate distance of his mouth and nose. “Are you s––”

“Did I stutter?” he interrupts before she can finish his question, and then he’s pushing her knickers to the side and giving her whole slit the first swipe with his tongue. She moans loudly and lets her whole weight fall on his face as he instructed her and starts eating her out with abandon, sucking on her clit and making circles on it with his tongue. 

Reaching with one of his hands behind her, he plunges two fingers inside of her and curls them, pumping them in and out. The sensation is simply too much for her, she starts grinding on his face without a care in the world, and Draco seems to enjoy it as he moans on her pussy and sends the vibrations through her body. Hermione has never felt more alive than in this moment, where all that matters is her, and Malfoy, and the way he’s making her feel with his tongue and his fingers on her. “You taste so fucking good, kitten.” Hermione discerns the muffled words spoken against her pussy, and it makes her hip movements even faster.

He takes out his fingers from her pussy, and using her own arousal he starts moving them up, until he’s touching her arsehole, Hermione lets out a yelp, she has never taken anything up the arse, so she looks down giving Malfoy a questioning look. He lifts her up a bit so he can talk. “Do you trust me?” Hermione nods after a few seconds of hesitation, and then he’s pushing her body down again to his mouth. 

His fingers return to her puckered hole, and then, slowly, he’s pushing a single digit inside of her, “Oh fuck!”. Draco starts making slow movements and stroking the walls of her hole and although the feeling is foreign, it isn't at all unpleasant, after a few minutes where she feels the tension of her tightness dissipate, he adds another digit and Hermione doesn’t think she can take any more. He continues with his movements on her pussy as he simultaneously uses his fingers on her hole, and Hermione can feel herself getting close to her orgasm. 

“I’m so close, please, don’t stop.” Draco seems urged on by this, and he gives a hard suck on her clit until Hermione’s gasping and whimpering from the overstimulation, trembling on top of him as she rolls out the waves of her orgasm. Malfoy laps at her juices and when she finally stops her tremors, he pulls out his fingers and lifts Hermione off his face. Pushing her back so that she’s straddling his cock. She takes a few moments to regain her strength and then she’s pushing herself up with her hands on the sides of his head to look at the man who just gave her the most earth shattering orgasm of her life. 

The lower half of his face is covered with her juices, and he doesn't seem to mind as his tongue comes out and wipes clean whatever he can reach with it. Hermione is so turned on by his nonchalance that she kisses him right as he is, she can taste herself in his mouth but she couldn’t care less. “I need you, now.” She needs him to be inside of her so gravely, that she sits up moving her thong to the side and holding his cock with the other, aligning it with her entrance so that in one swift motion she sinks on it making them both gasp in each other’s mouth. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

Hermione gasps at his words and starts grinding on it so that she can make friction between her clit and his pelvis splattered with soft blond curls, “You look so good riding my cock, you filthy slut. You love it don’t you? You’re so desperate for it.”

“Oh, Draco!” she moans so loud she would be worried that their wall neighbours could hear them if it weren't for the huge suite Draco has all for him. 

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” She starts bouncing on top of him, and her tits bounce along with her, which seem to make Draco hypnotized by the sight. “Fuck, come here now and let me put those tits in my mouth.” He uses both his hands to get her closer to him so he can play with her tits and suck on them. The way he plays with her is so fucking erotic that combined with how deep his cock is hitting her, she can feel her orgasm start to build up. She uses one of her hands and moves it to her front so she can stroke herself better, and when the blond notices, he’s carrying her and switching their positions without pulling out. Hermione whines as he takes both her legs and puts them on top of his shoulders, hitting a spot inside of her that has her on the brink of orgasm “Draco, please come inside of me, I’m coming, oh god,” 

Draco grunts and starts pumping his hips faster, relentlessly using his own hand on her clit. “You want me to spill my come inside of you, kitten? To stuff you until you’re dripping down your legs? Is that what you want?”

“Please! Please,” 

“Oh fuck, Hermione your cunt is gripping me so hard––” he starts going sloppily right when her orgasm hits her and she starts spasming, but it doesn’t deter it, she comes harder than with his mouth on her.

“Yes, yes!” Hermione feels the ropes of warm come inside of her, and Draco whimpers right on her ear, kissing her equally as sloppy as the movement of his hips, swallowing every last one of her moans with his lips. 

“Fuck,” He says, as he empties himself completely and drops carefully on top of her, both panting from the exertion. 

“Oh gods.” She’s still in awe of just how amazing it all was, and how exhausted she is. Draco rolls down her body to lie beside her on the bed, their naked bodies full on display. Hermione accio’s her wand and vanishes the mess between her legs. She still can't believe how she went from not wanting to get involved with Malfoy at all, to having the most mind-blowing sex with him but she can't bring herself to regret it. 

After a few minutes of catching her breath, she finally gets up from the bed and starts putting her dress back on. She casts a tempus and realizes it’s barely two in the morning. If she goes to bed now, she might still catch some good sleep before they take their portkey back to London at 7. 

“Where are you going?” asks Malfoy from where he’s sprawled on the bed. 

“To my room.” she responds without looking at him, it isn't personal, she’s just creating boundaries as to not blur any lines. Hermione didn't come here to keep him company, much less to sleep next to him and cuddle. 

“Oh.” is his answer, she decides not to think too much about what he could’ve possibly been expecting. 

Once she’s all dressed, she says. “See you tomorrow.” with a soft smile, and leaves the room for her own. 

…

A few days pass before they see each other than in passing or quick meetings with Kingsley where they do not interact alone or with each other at all. Hermione has not been avoiding him by any means, they just haven't happened to be in the same room alone for more than two minutes.

They finally talk the following Friday at Trivia Night with their friends, where more than talk they argue because, obviously, they are not allowed to be together on the same team out of fairness to all teams. 

So he antagonizes her, and she responds with something offensive because she’s a sore loser. 

And their friends all notice the tension being higher than ever but they don’t care to hide because they were the ones who brought up the idea of them shagging, after all. 

So, when the first two rounds of the Trivia end, huffing and puffing, she makes her way to the loo’s where before she can shut the door fully, a strong body is pushing the door open and walking past her, wandlessly locking the tiny space. “You fucking arseh––”

“Shut the fuck up, Granger.” And then he’s lifting her up against the wall and kissing her roughly as he grinds his hard cock between her legs, Hermione doesnt even get to protest because she’s to riled up and she wants to take it out on him as well. So, what better way to take their anger out than fucking raw? 

He drops her gently but roughly maneuvers her body so that she’s facing the mirror and he’s behind her, he bends her over and pushes her skirt up and her knickers past her knees. He unzips his muggle denims and pushes them just below his arse. He fists her hair on his hand and tugs hard. “You want to ignore me all week and then fight with me over this silly little games you fucking slut?”  

Hermione only moans in response as his fingers come in contact with her wet cunt and stroke her slowly. “Answer me.” he slaps her arse cheek and she winces. The pain and the pleasure mixing together. 

Gritting her teeth, she says “Yes, you fucking prick. I will fight with you every time you antagonize me.” 

“You sure about that?” he says, making eye contact with her in the mirror. 

“Fuck you.”

“Already did, kitten.” His smirk is so smug she wishes she could slap it away, but just as the thought crosses her mind, he’s sinking his cock inside of her. “Oh fuck!” she gasps. 

“You think you can parade around me in that mini skirt with half your arse out and not get properly fucked?” 

She smirks at him with a look of victory through the mirror and he tightens his hold on her hair. “Always so tight for me, sweetheart .” he pumps his hips so fast she has to put her hands in the mirror to keep her balance.

“Don’t call me that.” she hisses.

“I will call you whatever I want.” he says and sets a punishing pace that hits directly on her most sensitive spot. 

“Oh god, Malfoy! Fuck me, harder.” she can’t take it anymore, she needs him to rub her clit so she can come. 

“Is that an order or a request?” he says as he slaps her arse again. 

“Please,” 

“That’s what I thought.” and then he does, he fucks her harder until her pussy’s clenching around him and he’s reaching to her front to circle her clit. 

“Yes! Yes, I’m coming, Malfoy!”

“Say my name.” he says as he keeps going. “Say it, Granger.”

“Draco!” she screams and he gasps, coming hotly inside of her as her own orgasm hits her at the same time. 

He leans over her, his cock out and his come dripping down her legs. She pushes him away from her and casts a scourgify on herself before pulling her knickers on and righting her skirt. “This next round is mine, you bloody ferret.” 

He chuckles darkly with his softening cock out, and she can only feel angry at how even soft, the godsdamn thing is still impressive. “Care to touch it, princess?”

She rolls her eyes and unlocks the door, leaving him behind. Two minutes later he’s back on the table looking as prim and proper as when he first arrived. 

If her friends noticed their absence, they don't acknowledge it. 

…

They stopped ignoring each other. 

It was obvious that the two had initially felt awkward after her prompt leave and his reaction, not knowing where they stood considering how they hadn’t properly talked about any of it. One might think there’s less talking and more action in these sorts of arrangements, but the truth is, she wasn't a person who could just act on impulse and not have control over a situation. So, after another impromptu rendezvous on her office desk with Hermione on her chair and Draco kneeling under her desk while eating her out, they decided it was time to talk. 

Unsurprisingly, the only thing Draco argued about, was the sleeping over thing. So, they had to come to an agreement. Hermione would allow it to stay over be that on her flat or his, once a week, most likely weekends. According to Malfoy––whom Hermione did not believe for a second–– he wanted the opportunity to have morning, lazy sex, or sex throughout different periods of the night. 

So, he started staying every Friday at his flat. They would leave work at 5, go their separate ways, shower, get ready to go out with their friends, and then end the night together and start the next day on her bed as well. 

He tightened his arms around her middle and nuzzled her mass of curls from behind, she could already feel his morning erection poking her arse. Malfoy truly was insatiable. Last night they had opted to skip their night out to stay in and watch the telly, Malfoy had become obsessed with it once Hermione introduced him to it. They watched Cruel Intentions with popcorn and muggle beer–– a new thing he had taken a great liking to––with his million questions through its duration instead of watching and asking after the credits rolled. Then he proceeded to slowly undress her on her couch and made slow passionate sex. 

Now, she knew what he wanted and she wanted it as well, she opened up for him and he aligned himself behind her, pushing into her and singing her praises. 

“You’re so good for me.”

“I love waking up to you like this.”

“That’s it, you’re such a good girl, move your hips for me.”

He grasped her head with his hand and turned her to look at him, with his hazy eyes and kissed her languidly, with slow strokes of his tongue, and his cock buried deep inside of her, curved just to touch the right spot. 

He played with her nipples and moved his hips slowly, it was torture truly, because she knew she needed him to move faster and harder so she could come. But they had reached a point where sex with him was not even about orgasms but how it felt to be connected to him in such an intimate way. So she let him come inside of her, and she relished the feeling of his pleasure. 

Hermione would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy her Fridays with her friends followed by rows of sex with Malfoy. They had decided to try to avoid sex during the weekdays, especially at work, but unfortunately, the more time passed, the more Hermione allowed bending the rules and breaking them herself. 

The main instigator was Malfoy, yes. But she wasn't too far behind him, as she found herself seeking his company as well. Eventually their arguing over their shared work had diminished and she found herself being more receptive to what he had to say and offer. Although she’d known this on principle, she had become witness to just how incredibly smart Malfoy truly was and she feared how fast she was becoming more and more attracted to this. 

Hermione loved how he told her everything she didn’t know about Pureblood culture. How he played the piano for her in his flat, he’d told her all about his classes growing up, and how much he used to hate it, Hermione tells him he’s great at it, and that he should play it more often.

She watches him write in his journal she hadn't known he kept, and she wishes she could read what he writes. 

He watches Malfoy present his proposals to the Minister, and how he constructs them, how he backs up his arguments and how he knows when to back down, something she never learned how to do. 

Malfoy talks to her about Narcissa, and how she was his rock growing up, the one constantly allowing him to hide everything he couldn’t have Lucius know. He tells her how despite his mixed feelings over his father, he can’t help but love him, and visits him once a month in Azkaban. Hermione doesn’t blame him, she would do anything to talk to her parents once more. 

She tells him about the memory charm, and how much she’d cried the night she was forced to move them away from the country so she could save them. Malfoy tells her she did the right thing. 

Malfoy shows her his favorite wizarding books that she’s yet to read, and she introduces him to Dune. 

They read together on her couch, his head on her lap. Sometimes side by side, sometimes he reads to her, sometimes she reads to him. 

She shows him her music, something passed on from her dad to her. She shows him Queen, Fleetwood Mac, Radiohead, The Smiths, and The Beatles. Malfoy becomes a fan of The Smiths. He sings her Unloveable with his horrible tonetion as he makes them dinner she’d taught him how to prepare in her kitchen a few weeks before. Hermione laughs until she can’t breathe when the chicken turns out uncooked. 

She lets him fuck her on the kitchen counter for making fun of his cooking skills.

Hermione once thought sex was the deepest form of intimacy. Hermione hadn’t known true intimacy until Malfoy.

She has never felt more alive. 

She wonders if all of this is enough.

Hermione is all too aware that Malfoy cared for her, as friends, as the girl he had sex with, but she still noticed how his eyes dimmed everytime Astoria’s name came up in conversation, or how every single one of his memories and stories in some way include her and how he does his best not to mention her. 

It didn’t hurt at first, but the more time passes, and the more time she spends in his presence she can’t help but feel a deep tug in her chest every time she thinks of how this is temporary because she will never truly be anyone of great importance for him. 

He had said so himself hadn’t he? He could never fall in love with her. 

But she had never denied it herself. 

…

It was Theo’s and Harry’s joint birthday soiree in Nott Manor. 

The party was already in full swing when she arrived. Hermione had made an effort to look nice tonight, she was wearing a black off the shoulders jumpsuit that hugged her in all the right places. She had managed to sort her hair into soft ringlets that fell down her back, and she’d done her makeup the way Pansy had thought her to. 

Hermione hadn't been expecting such a big party, but there were plenty of faces she didn't recognize in the crowd. Feeling out of sorts with so many people around, she went directly to the first person she made out from everyone. It wasn’t hard to separate her from the crowd with her extravagant dress and her signature blonde curly hair, Hermione made her way towards Luna and her husband Rolf Scamander. She hadn't seen her in a while, considering they were constantly on the road seeking adventures and continuing the legacy of Rolf’s grandfather Newt Scamander, discovering and saving magical creatures. 

After a while of catching up with Luna, Hermione found Pansy’s pixie cut and excused herself to go to her, and hopefully have her accompany her for a much needed drink. Being around so many people was causing her a great deal of anxiety and the only way to take the edge off would be with a nice drink in her hand. 

“Parkinson!” Hermione yelled through the noise in hopes that Pansy wouldn't move from her spot. 

Thankfully she heard her and turned to call her on. “Granger! You finally made it,” 

“Been here a while, I was with Luna and Rolf. I couldn’t find anyone else. I had no idea The Nott-Potts had so many friends.” 

Pansy snorted at that. “They do not, this is all Theo’s doing, he wanted to go big, you know how extra he is, so he invited a bunch of random people from the Ministry and Salazar knows where else.” 

“Harry must be having a blast.” She said, all their friends knew the golden trio hated the spotlight as soon as they got under it, being around so many people usually tended to lead to people bugging Harry and asking questions he didn’t want to answer about the War and defeating Voldy. Hermione just got called Golden Girl and Brightest Witch of Her Age, which she hated, and Ron, well, people mostly asked him for autographs. 

“He hasn't left his corner the entire time I've been here,” said Pansy. Hermione could barely make out his shaggy head of black hair from where Pansy had appointed him to be. The poor wizard looked miserable, nursing a drink and seemingly making small talk 

“Come on, let’s get a drink and then we’ll go save him.” She dragged her raven-haired friend towards the bar and ordered them each a drink. 

“Who would’ve thought the Savior of the Wizarding World needed saving,” said Pasy.

“Oh, I’ll tell you.” Hermione laughed. 

They were walking towards Harry when Hermione saw the distinguishable blond head of hair standing close by with his back to her. “Oh look, there’s Draco.” she said.

“Hermione–” said Pansy, which immediately made her stop and look back towards her friend. Pansy never used her first name unless something had happened. She saw her friend’s face of anguish and turned back to look at where she was heading and saw who he was talking to.

Astoria. How hadn’t she thought about it? Of course she would be here. The Greengrass were childhood friends with Theo, and if half of Wizarding London was here, they would be here. 

“Oh.” her face fell and she felt her heart hurt, she resisted the urge of soothing the pain in her chest with her hand. 

“I–– They’ve been talking for a while,”

“Yeah,” she said, swallowing. Hermione wanted to stop looking, but she couldn’t, she was frozen in place looking over every few seconds. Of course, Malfoy would take the first chance he could to talk to her, why wouldn’t he? 

He’s probably been seeing her the entire time but Hermione had been too naive to notice. 

The thought makes her want to vomit. 

“I’m sorry, Hermione.” Hermioned hated to hear the pity in her friend’s voice, she didn't want anyone’s fucking pity. She didn't want to seem weak.

She composed herself and said with a sharp tone and a cold look, “There’s nothing to be sorry for, we are not together. He can fuck her right in front of me right now and I couldn’t care less.” She lied. 

“He wouldn’t do something like that,” said Pansy. 

Hermione laughed coldly. “Wouldn’t he? I highly doubt it.” 

“He cares for you, I know it.” Hermione didn't understand where Pansy’s need to defend him was coming from, she understood that they had been friends since they wore nappies, but she needn’t excuse him to her. 

“That’s irrelevant, he’s nothing to me but a fuck buddy.” she downed her drink and set it on the closest surface she could find. 

“He’s more than that and you know it.” 

“Sure.” she said to pacify her friend. “I’m going to go save Harry now.”

Pansy, for all her feisty personality, really didn’t like friend quarrels. She didn't like thinking that the friend group could fall apart, she had told this to Hermione herself. She was lonely in many ways, estranged from her Death Eater father and horrible mother, her friends were the only thing she still had. They were her chosen family, and Hermione understood that. Her own parents were off in Australia somewhere without a clue that they’d ever had a daughter, but that doesn’t mean Hermione is willing to put up with people who wrong her. Malfoy hadn’t done anything per se, but she thought at least that he would have the decency of letting her know that what they had was over and he was, after months, going to reunite with his one true love. 

Hermione reached Harry, and without letting him say his goodbyes to the people he was engaging in conversation with, she took his hand in hers and wordlessly dragged him to the balcony so they could both take a breather. 

She didn’t look back to see the grey eyes that followed her across the room.

After a few minutes of silence between her childhood best friend and her, he finally spoke. 

“Hey, ‘Mione.” 

“Hi, Harry.”

She couldn’t help but want to cry as she stared at the boy with deep green eyes that had always been there for her when she most needed him.

“Are you okay?”

Silently, in her head, she said no, and she told him everything. How she was feeling, how she regretted ever getting involved with a man whose heart belonged to someone else, how she felt like her heart was breaking even if she didn’t have a right to feel that way, how she was so beyond angry but also just so sad and lonely, how much she wanted to scream at the wizard inside who was too preoccupied with another woman to care about how Hermione felt at all. How she never intended to fall in love, but she did, and now she was paying for it. 

But Hermione said none of this, she simply nodded her head and forced a smile that she knew would never fool her best friend to think she was actually okay but he would respect her decision to not talk about it anyway. 

“I figured you needed someone to remove you from that conversation.” 

“Yes, thank you. I want to wring Theo’s neck for bringing so many strangers to our home.” 

Hermione laughed and shook her head. “No you don't, you love him, and you would put up with a thousand people asking you questions simultaneously if that would make him happy.”

“Yes, but I also do want to wring his neck.” He said. 

“You can’t wring my neck but I’ll let you choke me, sweetums.” said the voice of Theodore as he entered the conversation and hugged Harry from behind, resting his chin over his shoulder with a mischievous smile.

“Gag,” said Hermione, smiling at her two favorite people. 

“Oh shut up, Granger. As if I didn't have to put up with your sexscapedes with my best friend, it’s only fair that you get to hear about yours too.”

Hermione’s smile immediately vanished. “I don't think you will have to put up with that anymore.”

Theo stepped away from his husband and approached her when he noticed her serious  demeanor. “What?! Why? I thought you guys would already be in love with each other by now.” 

“I thought you said we could never fall in love with each other?” She gives in an inquisitive look.

“What and you believed that rubbish? You know I’m the ultimate matchmaker, Granger.” He flashed her a handsome grin and waggled his eyebrows. 

“Well your matchmaking did not work, he’s inside with ‘Tori’ as we speak.” How she hated to hear her nickname coming from his mouth. 

“I’ll kill him.” He immediately goes serious, sharing a look with his husband. 

“Not necessary, Theo. We’re not exclusive nor dating, much less in love. I assure you.” How it hurt to say all of it out loud, but it made it real, it was real. It was her sad reality. She loved someone who would never love her back. 

“Are you kidding me Hermione? You’ve been essentially dating for months!” 

“No, it was just shagging.” she shrugs. 

“No, no it wasn't and don't try to pretend otherwise.” he argues, his face red with anger. 

“I am not going to have this discussion with you, Theo. I love you, but it’s not your business.” Hermione sighs, wishing she had a drink on her hand. She notices Theo’s glass and snatches it from him and downs it in one go. “Thanks for that, I’m going inside to mingle a little more and then I’ll leave, I’m exhausted.” Another lie, she had been looking forward to the party, but now she can’t really bear to be in the same place as Draco while he is around comfortably with someone else. 

“Hermione––” Theo wanted to object, but finally Harry shook his head at him and Theo seemed to drop it. 

Hermione gave them each a kiss on their cheeks and said. “I’m fine, Theo. I promise.” before going back inside. 

When she goes back inside, her eyes immediately seek out the mop of blond hair everywhere, and it is nowhere to be seen. Swallowing the urge to cry, Hermione makes her way to the parlor and floos home. 

Once in her flat she debates over closing her floo and modifying her wards, but she does neither. 

It is the first Friday she’s come home without Draco for months. 

She waits for him until sleep takes her under its wings.

He doesn't show up.

…

Hermione sees him at work the following Monday. Malfoy acts like nothing’s out of the ordinary, he greets with what had become her usual morning coffee with cream and a teaspoon of sugar.

He asks her if everything’s okay, she seems distant. 

Hermione lies, “I didn't sleep well last night.”

“Oh yeah, me neither.” he replies nonchalantly and leaves for his own office. She wonders the entire day if it was Astoria who kept him up at night. He doesn't ask her where she was on Friday, he doesn't tell her why he didn't look for her, or why he never showed up, he just acts like Friday never happened and it’s driving her mad.

He comes by later and asks her if she’s ready to go for lunch, she lies and says she has other engagements but doesn't elaborate, he shrugs and leaves again. He’s done so much leaving lately. Hermione spends her lunch hour walking around muggle London alone. 

She thinks about whether she should do or say something about Friday to him.

She doesn't. 

The rest of the week she avoids him as much as she can while still trying to act as normal as possible, it is a weird mix of two things that usually don't go well together. But for the first time, he doesn't bother asking and he doesn't make any witty remarks about it either.

Does he not notice she’s pulling away?

Does he not notice he’s losing her?

Does he not care?

Has he ever?

Hermione is spiraling. 

By Friday, Hermione knows what she has to do. 

He comes over, Hermione acts normal. She doesn't pull away from his touch, in fact she’s clingier than usual, they watch Lost in Translation, Hermione cries and Draco comforts her. 

They share a dinner based on take away, Draco had really taken a liking for Indian food. They don’t really talk. 

Later that night, on her bed. He undresses her, he tells her how beautiful she is, how much he wants her all the time, how she’s everything he can think of, how he can’t believe how lucky he is to have her. Hermione can only think how he doesn't really have her, and she pretends to believe every word he says. 

He’s taking her shirt off, giving her a soft kiss on the mouth before he keeps going and takes her bra off as well. Draco leaves kisses on her breasts, which unlike other times, are soft and truly appreciative, he sucks on her nipples delicately, and fondles her breasts carefully. 

He’s cradling her face with both his hands, and kissing every single part of it, her eyelids, her eyebrows, her forehead, her temple, her nose, her chin, her cheeks, her jaw. There’s not a single spot that hasn’t been kissed by him. There’s not a single spot in her body that hasn't been marked by him. 

“You’re perfect.” he tells her with a voice filled with a fondness she knows is nonexistent, because how could it be really? 

He crawls on top of her and continues kissing her and undressing her tenderly while he’s fully dressed, this time it doesn't feel like a power play. Hermione lets him, she lets him do whatever he wants with her because this is the last time he will get to do so. 

He drags her sleep shorts off followed by her knickers, and he places dainty kisses on her legs, her thighs, and on her pussy. He uses his tongue in that expert way only he knows to make her see stars. He pushes off the bed and undresses himself without breaking eye contact with her. Hermione can tell he knows there’s something different about today, about this particular Friday in the middle of August. 

When he’s done removing his clothes he fists his cock for a second as he looks upon her body, and then crawls on top of her again. It doesn't take long for him to align himself with her entrance and push inside of her. He makes love to her slowly––because Hermione is convinced that this is what love making is supposed to feel like and because it doesn’t need both persons to be in love when one of them loves enough for the both of them,

Hermione turns away from him when he buries his face on the crook of her neck and allows the tears to fall. She doesn't make a sound, and if she does, Draco mistakes it for moans and sounds of pleasure. But he never sees her crumble down, and she’s grateful for that. 

He comes with fervor, she does too. 

She gets up to retrieve her discarded clothes, Draco does the same. 

They sit on the bed without facing each other. 

“I saw you, you know,” she says finally, with her heart weighing heavily on her chest. “With Astoria, at the party. I was there.” Hermione does her best to prevent her voice from breaking.

“I know,” he says after a few seconds.

“You know what? That I saw you or that I was there?” She feels it is important to clarify exactly what happened, and if there’s any remorse at all trying to eat him alive the way the pain and the sadness are eating at her. 

“Both,”

“Right.”

“It will always be her won’t it?” she asks, her lips trembling now and tears falling freely down her face.

“No.” It’s only a momentary relief what she feels as he responds. 

“So, if she called you right now, and said that she wanted you back you wouldn’t go back to her?” 

Silence. 

Awful,

Painful,

Silence. 

“That’s what I thought.” She says, as her heart breaks into a million pieces. “You should leave.”

“You shouldn’t have fallen in love with me.”

“Well, I guess it’s too late for that.”

…

Hermione takes a week of sick leave from work. 

By Friday at midnight there’s a knock on her door, she doesn’t get up to open it. Hermione had been clear with her friends that she needed time alone, to process everything, and finally feel ready to move on. She would get past this, she had to. 

The knock comes again, and again, and again, for 20 minutes, the person outside knocks 3 times per minute. 

Hermione knows now that the person outside is not one of her friends. 

“Hermione,” comes his voice from outside.

“Hermione, please open the door and let me talk to you.”

“My love, please.” she cant take it anymore, she starts sobbing and shaking uncontrollably on her living room floor. 

“Please, open the door and hear me out Hermione, if we can’t get past this after we talk then I’ll leave. For good. If anything, give yourself closure, I’m begging you.” 

She owes this to herself, she thinks. There’s really nothing that could excuse their last conversation but she’s willing to hear him out if only to give herself that closure that she needs to move past this and keep on with her life as it once was. 

Hermione opens the door and he’s there, disgruntled, disheveled like he hasn't slept in days, with swollen eyes, purple under bags, and scruff that he hasn't shaved in days. He looks… he looks the same as she does. 

He walks with his arms open like he wants to embrace her but she takes a step back, the crestfallen expression on his face makes her stomach twist, but she reminds herself this is the same man who broke her heart with no regard for her feelings. 

“Can I come in?” 

She nods and says nothing. Hermione has no plans of talking, or responding, or engaging, this is all him. She doesn’t think she could talk to him even if she wanted to.

They settle on the couch, each on their corner, as far away as possible. She wishes she could close the distance, she longs for being close to him, but she knows that would give him the wrong idea.

Hermione doesn't know how this is supposed to go, so she waits for him to talk, though it takes him a while to even look at her, when he finally does, tears swim in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Hermione.” She takes a deep breath and says nothing, just stares, and nods for him to continue. 

“It took me a few weeks of truly being around you to realize I never wanted to stop. I think the moment I knew I was in love with you was when I caught you singing in your oversized I heart London t-shirt to Killer Queen on your dad’s stereo.”

That was months ago , Hermione thinks just as she feels her nose flare and her eyes fill with tears as she tries to contain them while she looks at him. 

“Hermione, I know how Friday looked, I know I should’ve come straight here to you and explain everything. But, please, I am begging you to try to understand that even if I don't feel anything for Astoria anymore, she was a big chapter of my life that I needed to close before I could fully commit to you, and that was all you saw, two people closing a chapter. I was wrong and naive thinking that she was it for me, she isn't, and she has never been. I loved her, yes, I won’t say no because I would be lying to you. But ever since you came into my life, and you showed me what it is to be loved, cared, and appreciated for the person that I am, I’ve come to realize that I don't know how I ever thought that someone who wanted to change everything about me that made me myself, could ever be it for me.” Draco takes a long breath, like maybe hoping for a reply Hermione’s not ready to give, before he continues. 

“I thought I’d lost you that day, and that’s why I thought giving you space and not coming here was the wise thing to do. When I tried to be normal the next Monday I’d realized you’d fully pulled away, you’d checked out of whatever you had with me. I kept trying but I realized it was fruitless, for so long I thought, there’s no possible way this amazing witch who’s everything I could ever want in a partner might actually love me. I doubted myself for so long Hermione, I didn't believe I was deserving of your love. I still don't, but I am selfish and I still want it. 

When you asked me if I’d go back to Astoria if she ever said she wanted me back, I froze, Hermione, and I felt my heart break because the only thing running through my mind was, how, after so many months together, can she still doubt what I feel for her? I realized you didn’t trust me, and that you’d probably made up your mind about me already, even if you loved me, I thought you would never think I was a  good enough person to respect you.” 

The tears are flowing freely now, like water on a fucking river. Because wasn't he right? Wasn't that exactly what she thought? She’d jump right to conclusions and she couldn’t even deny it. Hermione had thought and expected the worst of him and she hadn't given him the benefit of the doubt. She hadn’t really tried before making her mind about him. Because she knew that regardless of what he could’ve said last Friday night, she wouldn’t have believed him. 

“I tried looking for you at the party after you disappeared with Potter, but I couldn’t find you anywhere, I looked all over the Manor for you, thinking you might be in the bedroom they keep for you, but then Theo found me, and he told me you’d seen us, and that you looked so fucking broken, that I should probably just get away from you if I was going to keep up with my shit. Even my own best friend thought the worst of me.” 

Hermione is sobbing now, because hadn’t Pansy tried to convince her that Draco wouldn’t betray her like that? That he actually cared for her?  “I’m sorry.” she says in between sobs. 

“I’m sorry, Draco–”

He finally closes the space between them and cradles her on his lap. “I love you, Hermione Granger. I love every single thing about you. There’s no one better suited for me in this life than you.” 

“I love you Draco, please, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, my love. I fucked up by putting so many wrong ideas in your head when I thought I was truly broken hearted over her, but I’d long since stopped loving her, I was holding onto an idea of something that never really existed, please tell me you understand because I can’t bear the thought of you thinking I could ever love anything more than I do you. You were made for me.” He cradles her splotchy face on his hands as tears run down his eyes as well, and she can see it now, what she wanted to see for so long but was to blind to notice, she can now see the adoration and the raw love that he harbors for her in his eyes.

“I understand Draco, I do. I held onto my last relationship for a long time too because of an idea, that if there’s anyone who can understand what you went through it’s me. I believe you, I love you.” And she does, she has first hand experience on what it’s like to hold onto what no longer is, or probably never was. It’s always the people who are more desperate to feel loved and safe that tend to romanticize their relationships. Hermione was once the person who was yearning to feel something genuine, so she decided to believe what she thought instead of what she could see. 

“I love you, please never doubt that. Please talk to me, always. I’m sorry thinking that giving up on us was the right thing to do. I will never ever let you feel like that again, I will never leave you.” 

“I love you, Draco.”

“I love you, my love, and I’ll never stop proving it to you. I’m sorry I hurt you so much, and I’m sorry I didn't tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay, we’re together now, and we’ll get past this together.” 

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” he says, planting kisses on her wet cheeks. 

“I know, me too.” she smiles softly at him. 

Hours later, they make love on the carpet in front of the unlit fireplace, and this, she knows, is love in its rawest form, naked, happy, bittersweet. 

When they are done Hermione laughs, and says. “Did you know that Thedore purposely planted the idea on our heads that it would 'make sense' for us to shag? He knew all along that we didn't stand a chance.” 

"That fucking prick," he laughs along with her. "I would kill him if he hadn't sort of helped on making us happen."

Hermione wholeheartedly agrees. "He's such a meddlesome little sod." 

"Well, thank Merlin for Fridays and meddlesome friends."