Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hermione craned her neck. The massive building before her seemed to go on for miles into the sky. She shouldn’t be surprised at the size, yet she was. It’s not like she hadn’t been here before. She nailed her job interview after all, beating every other applicant by far with her knowledge and a wide range to tackle tasks no other witch seemed capable of handling even with basic magical skills.

Yet, on her first official day, it was still incredibly daunting to stare at the giant letters on the front of the building.

Draconite Inc.

Despite it not being her first choice of employment, she did not doubt that this would be a job from which she would learn a great deal. Being the Personal Assistant to none other than the owner of this building and the man behind the name, Draco Malfoy, was sure to propel her into the work field she wanted to make a name for herself. 

Hermione Granger had always had dreams. She was also a realist. She knew dreams did not drop into her lap just like that. Some dreams she had to work to obtain. If she had to be a PA for a year or two, then she would be the damned best PA, before she could move up the ladder in the wizarding work field (one that still regarded witches as inferior unless they found a way to prove themselves above and beyond).

Once she stepped inside the building, the light from outside followed her through the many windows as she approached the front desk and a bored-looking witch, who absently twirled her wand in her hair. Hermione brushed her pencil skirt down nervously before cupping a hand to the bun on her neck to make sure her curls hadn’t sprung free - yet.

“Yes?” The witch answered without even looking up from - a copy of Witch Weekly. Hermione rolled her eyes at the predictability of this witch. She had no ambitions for this job.

“Yes, hello, my name is Hermione Granger. It’s my first day here.” She tried to be polite about it, but the other witch just raised a brow with a bored expression before pointing Hermione to the left.

“Security checks and identification through that door.”

“Right, thank you.”

Once she’d been cleared not to carry anything damaging to Draconite Inc. or any other means to disrupt the company, the grumpy old wizard handed her a badge that vibrated in her hand.

“It’s charmed to allow you access where you’ve been granted. If the door opens, fine, if not, that’s above your clearance. Best of luck.” He ushered her out of the room in a hurry. She studied the badge for a moment. 

Her picture smiled happily back at her, a look of determination fluttering across her eyes. Next to her, the letters spelt out ‘Hermione Granger, Personal Assistant to Executive Chief in Command, Draco Malfoy.’

It still sent a small bubble of excitement through her stomach seeing this title. A handful of the other girls present for the interviews had obviously only applied for a chance to get close to Draco Malfoy.

Of course, Hermione was not stupid. Nor blind.

After all, Draco Malfoy was featured almost monthly on the covers of at least one magazine on any newsstand. Either it was about his business doing even better than last month, another announcement as the most eligible bachelor or a reminiscent article about his too-short Quidditch career.

So no, Hermione had never been blind to the presence of Draco Malfoy. They went to school together, too. Although 5 years her senior, Hermione didn’t notice or know who he was until her second year at Hogwarts when Draco was a seventh year. That was the year he entered the newly instated Triwizard Tournament and won. However, what really impressed the public was the fact that he didn’t want to accept the Galleon Prize. Instead, he donated it to Hogwarts to improve their Quidditch facilities. Hardly anyone wasn’t aware of his passion for Quidditch, and many expected him to play professionally once he graduated. 

And he did.

For barely a year before the accident made it impossible for him to continue to play.

After that, it was a few years before the wizarding world heard more about Draco Malfoy, and Hermione kept on with her studies without a care about any of that. She remembered the time she read about his accident – there hardly were any boys at school who weren’t obsessed with the sport, of course, and wouldn’t stop trying to talk about it at every chance they got and she had felt sad for him. Mainly because it prevented him from doing something he loved. That was the most of it and she moved on - at the time she had exams to prepare for.

Once Draco Malfoy made his return to the public world of the wizarding community, it was to purchase his personal Quidditch team and several shops in Diagon Alley. That was just the beginning. He quickly rose in the ranks and made a name for himself as he invested and grew his business.

Hermione knew all of this for a reason. This reason only became more important once she showed up for her initial interview and was met with a room full of young witches in various stages of primped dress robes meant to mimic business attire.

Hermione’s stomach had been in knots as candidate after candidate had been sent home with polite offerings of this and that. One witch had been so offended even through her tears of rejection that she had been halfway on her way to fire a hex through the door before it slammed in her face.

Of course, it was Hermione’s luck that she was next in line for the interview. Both Draco Malfoy and his second in command, Theodore Nott, had looked knackered and about to end the day when she took her seat.

She supposed she had surprised them in some way by not being the primped witch wanting an in with the famous Mr Malfoy and a hand in his vaults or his bed or perhaps both.

They offered her the job before she left the building.

Here she was, waiting for the lift to take her up to the main floor and meet her new boss to find out where she would be working.

Her stomach was doing that horrible thing of tying itself into knots, another reason why skipping breakfast had been a good choice even with Luna’s homemade vegetarian smoothies. As each level passed by the dial above the door, Hermione focused on calming her breathing.

Sooner than expected, the doors clicked and opened for her to come face to face with none other than Theodore Nott.

“Miss Granger, welcome to Draconite Inc.” He held out his hand and she shook it, observing the crispness of his navy suit and how it was tailored to his tall frame. His hair curled around his ears, yet still looked styled for the day. What struck her the most was the attention in his eyes as he in turn studied her. They were bright green and solely fixed on her as she could practically feel him size her up.

For a second, it made her doubt the black pencil skirt paired with a simple creamy-coloured dress shirt. She had dressed in what she thought was proper business attire but of course, it was business attire customed from her muggle upbringing. She realised she should be surprised that Theodore Nott wore a muggle suit. All she could think about was how good he looked.

She only knew of Theodore Nott in the same manner she knew of Draco Malfoy. The two of them had been in the same year, although not the same house. Where Malfoy was a Slytherin through the bone, Nott had been in Ravenclaw, the same as Hermione. Despite them sharing a house, they had only passed each other randomly in the common room as they each had their group of friends.

Back in school, he had been much more gangly and less confident than what he appeared to be just now.

His piercing gaze seemed to rake across her entire body.

“Mr Malfoy asked me to give you the tour as he is booked in meetings all morning.” Mr Nott gestured for her to step out of the lift and Hermione blinked to escape the hold his green eyes had on her for a moment.

“Right, of course.” She fumbled with the strap of her bag slung over her shoulder as Mr Nott fell into step beside her.

“You will be working directly from this level, although I can’t promise you won’t have to frequent the other levels. But,” at this point, he paused briefly to greet one of the other people they passed in the hallway. One side of this hallway was paned with floor-to-ceiling glass panels, giving Hermione a wonderful view into every office and the people who worked there. She had yet to recognise any faces aside from Mr Nott.

“As Mr Malfoy’s PA, this will be your station.” They had reached the end of the hallway and Hermione found herself in a large room also paned with windows on one entire side, which offered a splendid view of the rest of London. It was a very open room leading to a smaller hallway on the opposite side of where she stood next to Mr Nott. Opposite the many windows were two doors, one of which was closed. Hermione quickly read the name on the open door, Theodore Nott, Deputy Director.

This meant the other door must lead to Mr Malfoy’s office. She didn’t get to study it closer before Mr Nott ushered her over to one of two very large desks, which were the main furniture in the room.

“This will be your desk. We’ve tried to stock it with quills and whatever you might need. I have no fucking clue what Draco will need from you, but I don’t doubt he’ll be quick to tell you once he wraps up his meetings. You should have,” he glanced at a very expensive watch on his wrist. “At least an hour or two to get yourself sorted before he’ll be out barking commands at you.”

“Oh, well, thank you, I suppose.” Hermione glanced at the other desk, which stood glaringly empty, not even a potted plant in sight.

“Ah yes,” Mr Nott walked around the two desks, putting several feet between him and Hermione.

“My secretary used to work here.” A smile graced his lips for a moment as he ran his fingers across the surface of the desk.

“This person doesn’t work here anymore?”

“Ah, no,” Mr Nott offered with a cheeky grin. “Conflict of interest and all that. Not to worry, Miss Granger. We always help all of our employees find a different job before we let them out of our contracts. We take care of our own at Draconite Inc. I hope you’ll remember this.”

“Of course, sir.” Hermione carefully dipped her chin, averting her eyes as her mind raced with the implications of what he had just said.

“I hope you won’t mind me calling for your help once in a while until such a time I will have a new secretary to assist me.”

“Of course.”

“As long as you always take care of Mr Malfoy’s needs and requests first. You are his PA, after all.” He winked and grinned, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.

“Right. Of course.”

“Splendid. Down this hall, you’ll find everything you should need. There are stationary and all that mixed in with a coffee station at some point. I have things to deal with so I’ll leave you for the time. My door is always open, should you need it.”

“Thank you, Mr Nott,” Hermione said and set her bag on her chair. Mr Nott opened his mouth as if to say something but seemed to think better of it before he just smiled and returned to his office.

During the next two hours, Hermione familiarised herself with her new workspace. She set up all the things she had brought with her in her bag - including a holder for quills and pens, her ink pot, a planner and several notebooks, a picture frame with a moving picture of Crooks trying to worm his way out of Luna’s firm grip (living with Luna for some years had made Crooks tolerate the other witch. To a certain degree, of course. Hermione was still the only person he allowed to pick him up.) - before she went to scope out the mentioned stationary.

Hermione loved everything used for writing. When she first became aware she was a witch, she was initially thrilled at the prospect of writing with a quill and ink - until the first time her ink pot was knocked over and the incident made her miss pens more than expected - the smell of parchment could make her smile on the dreariest of days. Draconite Inc. had an entire room for every kind of paper and parchment necessary along with shelves upon shelves of writing equipment and whatever else she might need. Hermione had no idea what sort of work Mr Malfoy would require of her, so she made sure to take a little of everything to store in the drawers of her desk. Just to be prepared.

She was just finishing up stacking several blank scrolls in a drawer when the door to Mr Malfoy’s office opened. Jumping from her seat, Hermione knocked over her picture frame. She brushed the front of her skirt and tried to look professional as she watched Mr Malfoy escort a wizard with a chocolate brown complexion from his office. Mr Malfoy raised a brow in her direction for a second while she scrambled not to look too flustered. Then his attention was back on the other wizard. They shook hands.

“I’m sure this collaboration will benefit the both of us, Mr Zabini.”

“I fucking hope so, Malfoy.”

Mr Malfoy’s lips thinned at the way this Mr Zabini spoke. Hermione thought perhaps they must know each other outside of the business meeting they had just had.

“Yes, well, thank you for stopping by today. Theo will have drawn up the contracts and have the documents ready for you.” Their hands parted and Mr Malfoy nodded in the direction of Mr Nott’s office for Mr Zabini to proceed.

Hermione felt frozen on the spot, not aware of what to do.

The next moment, Mr Malfoy had turned to her and was studying her, head to toe. In turn, she took the opportunity to do the same to him.

Just like Mr Nott, Mr Malfoy wore a muggle-styled suit. His was the darkest black she had ever seen. He was without his jacket and his sleeves were pushed up to reveal muscled forearms that flexed briefly when he shoved one hand in his pocket. The other curled around his chin for a moment. Hermione imagined his fingers would rub against the tiniest amount of stubble on his structured face. His jawline was strong but his eyes were stronger. 

The steel grey at the centre narrowed on Hermione and she suddenly felt very exposed. His blond hair was combed back neatly, but not slicked like she had seen other people do at her age. This looked effortless but still stylish.

“Miss Granger, welcome. Please, step into my office.” He stepped back, gesturing for her to enter. Hermione nodded and clasped her hands on her front as she passed him. Her nostrils flared briefly when she caught a whiff of his dark cologne. It was strong but not in the overwhelming and nauseating way some of her friends liked to overdose themselves. This was heavy around his frame to invade her senses just as she passed him. Once she took the next step, her senses returned to normal and she found herself in the middle of a clean and very sleek office. Mr Malfoy gestured for her to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. The wood was warm when she sat, so she assumed she had taken up a seat in the same spot Mr Zabini had occupied for the past hour or so. Mr Malfoy made his way around his desk slowly. His desk was larger than Hermione’s and made of dark mahogany. It shone in the late morning sun through the tall windows. 

“I trust Theo welcomed you this morning. I apologise. I would have done so myself were I not otherwise engaged.”

“It’s quite all right, sir. Mr Nott was kind enough to show me the necessities.”

“That’s good. Now,” he pulled out a planner from a desk and pushed it across for Hermione to take. She accepted it readily, planning and scheduling was something she excelled at.

“We discussed some of your areas of responsibility during your interview. As I mentioned at the time, these may shift as the company progresses. This is my schedule. I expect you to memorise every detail, should I need assistance in any matter.” Mr Malfoy went on to explain the many ways in which she would work under him at Draconite Inc. There were hardly any surprises, most had been laid forward during the interview and Hermione was well prepared for almost anything he threw her way.

“Going forward, there will be meetings I expect you to participate in as well. I shall need your skills in documentation among others.”

“Of course, sir.” Hermione hurried to make a mental note to prepare for situations like these. This meant she didn’t note the small twitch of Mr Malfoy’s eye at the mention of her calling him Sir.

“Might I ask to be told in advance when these meetings would require my presence?”

“That is fair.”

“Thank you.”

“Otherwise, I shall hand out tasks when needed. However, I expect you to handle your side of this working relationship mostly on your own. My time is limited and I have several projects lined up that will also demand my time and attention. In due course, this means more tasks for you to handle as well.”

Hermione nodded eagerly. This was what she expected and so far nothing had thrown her off her new job.

“That will be all for now, Miss Granger.” Mr Malfoy rose from his seat, brushing down the front of his abdomen, causing Hermione’s gaze to catch on the line of his body for a fraction of a second before she roused herself.
“Of course, Mr Malfoy. I’ll be at my desk if you need me.” She nodded and left without another word, carefully closing the door behind her before finding her place at her desk again.

Once seated, she could breathe a little easier.

When she’d first met Mr Malfoy at her interview, he had been less intimidating. Mostly because it had been Mr Nott who did most of the talking. If Mr Malfoy had conducted the interview, Hermione felt certain she wouldn’t have this job. The timbre of his voice made her spine crackle with nervous energy and the sight of his rolled-up sleeves had an unexpected effect on her.

Shaking her head, she decided to write it off as ‘first-day-nerves’ and get down to business. Fawning over her new boss wouldn’t do. That was not why she was here. Hermione Granger was nothing if not a professional. She would not lust after her boss. 

She flipped open Mr Malfoy’s planner and silently groaned at the many scribbled appointments and notes in handwriting that were only halfway readable. Determined to prove her worth, she set to work transcribing and aligning schedules.

Chapter Text

As with everything else new Hermione had to learn, she poured every fibre of her being into her new work. She arrived early and only left once her boss either told her to or he had left. It only took her a few days to notice that Mr Malfoy worked just as hard at everything he did as Hermione. It was no wonder he had made such a name for himself with Draconite Inc. in so few years with his dedication. 

Every Monday morning, Hermione entered his office with cups of steaming coffee to confirm his plans for the week and adjust anything necessary. Their communication was professional and never wavered towards anything else, because Hermione refused to lean into such a notion.

At least in the office. 

In the privacy of her shared flat with Luna, it was another matter entirely. She hardly had to worry about Luna as it was. Her most recent job required her to travel a great deal to track down whatever new species of creature she was supposed to study.

However, when Hermione was at work she refused to be affected by the grey slants of his eyes when he told her a job well done. Or when he smiled and accepted a cup of coffee from her. 

Hermione was no fool. This was not the first time the handsome features of a wizard had swayed her head and she recognised a crush when she felt one. Heavens, she only had to think of her silly schoolgirl infatuation with Harry to mentally berate herself. As it was, Harry had become one of her best friends once they discovered that kissing and anything else between them felt far too strange. Never mind that it was only a year ago, Harry finally decided to tell her why. She only hoped he would one day introduce her to whichever wizard it was who had made Harry come to terms with who he was. If anything, she just wanted to thank the wizard for making her best friend feel more comfortable in his skin and accept what he liked.

So yes, a crush was all it was. 

She expected it to fade with time. The newness of anything would be intriguing to any person. And Draco Malfoy inspired intrigue with any witch. Or so his many front page features would proclaim each time they declared him as Britain’s most eligible wizard, plastering his face everywhere outside and inside whatever magazine chose to print the story.

Hermione purchased one magazine long ago before he became her employer. As said, she was curious and hoped to read more about what it was that fascinated so many women to practically melt into the ground every time he entered a room.

What she found in the magazine was a spread of pictures showing Draco Malfoy from every potential angle and very few words to describe his life after graduation. The magazine seemed most interested in the fact that he had taken a French witch to his latest public affair, though no name ever surfaced of the tall strawberry-blonde witch who had also been featured in the magazine.

Hermione still had the magazine at the bottom of the stack currently about to topple off her coffee table. And there it would stay. 

She saw him plenty each day at work.

Enough to return home with red cheeks some days. Even this, she chastised herself over, working even harder the next day, earning more praise from not only her boss but Mr Nott too.

Mr Nott who was also a very handsome wizard, who most days left his door open while he worked. At least once a day, he would approach Hermione to clarify something or make a new remark for Mr Malfoy’s calendar - which Hermione had taken over completely - after which he would linger and chat for a bit. Always smiled at her in a way that told her that if she asked him to, he would take her to dinner and show her a very good time.

But she didn’t.

Hermione was a professional. Besides, the empty side of the other desk still nagged at her presence.

So she worked. 

It only took her a day to realise that the structure and dates of Mr Malfoy’s meetings would work far better under her organisational skills. She spent an entire morning applying her Arithmancy calculations to better adjust his schedule, making room for changes if needed in case one of the people she moved meetings around for was unable to adjust as well.

When she presented her results to Mr Malfoy and Mr Nott with perfect reasoning behind her choices and how it would benefit the desired results of those meetings, the two wizards stared at her for several long silent moments before Mr Nott seized the documents from her hands to scan.

“Fucking hell, Drake, she’s even… look at this!” Mr Nott pushed the documents in front of Mr Malfoy on his desk and they both went over everything on her new itinerary in excruciating silence. 

Meanwhile, Hermione clasped her fists behind her back, hoping to Merlin she had not overstepped. She tried to tune out the impressed murmurs between the two wizards as they clarified each thing she had written down.

Finally, Mr Malfoy removed his glasses carefully to look at Hermione. Mr Nott seized the documents again to smirk at them - or possibly Hermione, she couldn’t be quite sure at the moment.

“This is excellent work, Miss Granger. Would you care to enlighten me in your process of work?” Mr Malfoy spoke evenly as he regarded her. Hermione tried to speak through the dryness in her mouth from his praise.

She quickly went over her calculations and reasonings for positioning certain meetings above others and why she thought it would work best in that order.

“Shit, why haven’t we done this before?” Mr Nott exclaimed as he grinned between Hermione and Mr Malfoy. “This might actually win over the Hazeltons, they’ve been cranky every other meeting.”

“Yes.” Mr Malfoy drew out the single word as he kept looking at Hermione. “The answer to your question is obvious, Theo. We haven’t done this before because Miss Granger hasn’t been our employee until now.” He rose from his seat and Hermione had to remind herself to keep breathing.

“Please see to it that every meeting is scheduled accordingly, Miss Granger. Thank you.”

“Of course, sir, thank you.” Hermione hurried to gather the documents from Mr Nott who patted her on her shoulder once his hands were free and winked at her with more words of praise. These had nothing on her compared to when Draco made her pause at the door.

“Miss Granger, truly, this is great work. I see I chose the right candidate for the job.” 

Hermione nearly walked into the doorframe on her way out but managed to sidestep at the last minute as Mr Malfoy’s words washed over her.

Back at her desk, she cursed herself for reacting so strongly to the smallest amount of praise he had dealt her. She would need to work harder to snub her ridiculous crush. Perhaps she just needed a good shag. This was easier said than done with the hours she put into her work. Decent shags didn’t just happen randomly.

Hermione would have to date. 

Ugh.

She did not care much for dating based on the few instances she had been.

During her time at Hogwarts, she had not paid boys much attention. Mostly because as she got older she realised that that was precisely what her peers still were. Harry was, of course, not included in this as he had his own things to deal with. However, the two dates Hermione had gone on during her last year at school had been nothing but disastrous. Harry’s friend, Ronald Weasley, had been friendly enough and clearly infatuated with Hermione. On her end, however, that was all it was. She had agreed to the date because of her friendship with Harry. When Ron had tried to kiss her before she said her goodbyes to hide in the Ravenclaw tower, she panicked and reached to shake his hand instead. The look on Ronald’s face was so sad she nearly kissed him out of pity. Nearly. She was glad she hadn’t when he was caught snogging some girl from his house the coming weekend after his date with Hermione. Clearly, his affection for Hermione had not run deeper.

Her other date had been just at the end of the year when she was so preoccupied with her exams that to this day she still had a hard time remembering if it was Terry Boot or Michael Corner she had been out with.

In the two years since graduation, she has gone on a couple of dates. At some point and with help from Harry, she even got over her insecurities and lost her virginity. It was a night of little importance in many other regards. The bloke was nice and all about the entire thing and didn’t even flinch when he saw the speck of blood on the sheets afterwards. Hermione thanked him and went home to shower and sleep. Since then, she had satiated her needs either by hand or with random muggle men who she found knew their way around the bedroom better than some wizards. It wasn’t that she sought out these random nights deliberately as such. She simply had time for little else.

So maybe a shag was what she needed at the moment - a decent shag in her system to get rid of her crush. 

By the time the weekend arrived, Hermione was ready to get this thing out of her system. Harry was more than willing to go looking at wizards with her with Luna out of town. She supposed that was one benefit to having a best friend turn out to like wizards as much as herself. At least, they didn’t go for the same wizards. 

“How is work going?” Harry asked as they both accepted a Butterbeer. Hermione clinked her bottle to Harry’s and they both drank heartily. Harry raised a brow at her very insistent first sip.

“That bad, huh?”

“Work is great,” Hermione hurried to clarify. “I know what I’m doing and in the three weeks I’ve been there I’ve already improved a bunch of things for them.”

“So what’s the problem?” Harry glanced around them, his eyes catching on something in a far corner. Hermione followed his gaze and saw the object of Harry’s focus. Another group of friends were out drinking. Among them was a wizard she recognised from school, but couldn’t name as he was a year or two above them. At least, that’s what she could remember.

“Oi,” Hermione snapped her fingers in front of Harry to get his attention. He blinked as a blush spread across his neck but refocused on Hermione.

“Can we deal with my issues before you look for your next hookup?”

Harry scoffed.

“Like you’re not looking for someone tonight too.”

“Like I said, my problems first. Then you can shag whomever you want.”

Harry blushed a bit more and Hermione smiled.

They hadn’t always been friends. Harry Potter was a Gryffindor and she had only spent time with him in their early years at school when their houses were paired. But in their fifth year, they spent more time together as they had selected Astronomy for their O.W.L.s. Their friendship had developed naturally after this. It only botched a tiny bit with Harry’s assumed crush on her before they realised this was a bad idea. Plus the fact that Harry liked wizards more than having his hands on her breasts. 

This was a practical test they had run during their seventh year to make perfectly sure. 

“So,” Harry prompted and reluctantly turned his attention back on Hermione. “What is your problem?”

“My boss.” Hermione breathed, taking another swig of her butterbeer.

“Draco Malfoy?”

“That’s the one?”

“Is he a horrible boss then?”

“No, he’s the best boss. He’s not mean or anything and he truly appreciates the work I do, and…” Hermione hesitated, staring down her bottle. Harry bumped her shoulder.

“And?”

“And he’s bloody fit!”

“Ah.” A laugh slowly trickled from Harry, preventing him from drinking his butterbeer.

“It’s not funny, Harry. Besides, it’s just a crush. I just need a good shag, to get this out of my system. Then I can focus on work and not get distracted when my boss tells me I’ve done something great.”

“Right, of course. A shag.” Harry turned around to look around the bar - Hermione noticed his gaze snap back to the far corner a couple of times. “So, who’s the lucky guy tonight?”

Hermione turned around too.

Truthfully, she didn’t care that night. It would just be something physical, her only requirement was that this bloke knew what he was doing. This was a stretch in many cases, as she had learned the hard way.

“No clue. You?”

Harry’s gaze snapped to the far corner again.

“I think I’ve seen someone from school, but I’m not sure…” he trailed off, as Hermione looked to the corner again. They had only been looking that way for a minute or so before a tall, sandy-haired wizard excused himself and made his way across the room for Harry and Hermione.

“Oh, shit,” Harry muttered and turned his back. Hermione loved Harry for how awkward he still was around wizards this way.

“Hello,” the sandy-haired wizard smiled at Hermione. That was when she suddenly remembered seeing him in Hufflepuff colours.

“Hello, I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.” 

The wizard laughed and extended his hand.

“That’s all right. I’m Cedric.”

“Hello Cedric, I’m Hermione and this is Harry.” Hermione forcefully wrenched Harry back around to greet Cedric. Then she let out a small sigh. Because she saw it immediately. Cedric had not approached them for her sake. He was here for Harry.

Of course, Harry fumbled through a greeting and a small catch-up of how they knew each other. Cedric Diggory was a Hufflepuff and only one year above them. Hermione saw the signs instantly between the two wizards. The way their smiles changed with every sentence. Or the way they both leaned a tiny bit closer as the conversation went on. Or the small touches they both pretended not to notice affected them strongly.

Hermione was mildly surprised after fifteen minutes of conversation that they hadn’t run off to the nearest loo to shag or at least snog.

Thankfully, Cedric introduced Hermione to his friend Roger before he took off with Harry not long after. 

Hermione spent the rest of the night drinking and laughing with Roger before she took him home and straddled him in her bed. As it was, Roger knew what he was doing and Hermione got off as she needed to. Unfortunately, it wasn’t much more than that. After Roger finished, she thanked him and showed him to the fireplace.

“Wait, what?” Roger held his clothes in a crumpled pile in front of his naked groin. Hermione had donned a small silk robe.

She took his hand and tried to put on her best smile.

“Look, Roger, you seem like a nice bloke and I really enjoyed tonight, truly. But I don’t have time for a relationship. I’m sorry, I just needed tonight.”

“Oh,” Roger’s eyes widened with sudden understanding. “Oh, well, if you ever need to, you know….” he gestured to her bedroom awkwardly.

“Sure, I’ll owl you. Goodnight.”

The next morning, the Sunday Prophet showcased a front-page picture of Draco Malfoy attending a Ministry event with some gorgeous blonde and leggy witch on his arm. Hermione bit her tongue as she studied the picture in great detail, completely ignoring the text that would surely have explained who the witch was.

She owled Roger to come over that night too. He was already pulling his shirt off when he stepped through the floo. She let him fuck her on the floor while she tried her very best not to think about her boss. Instead, she focused on the dark hair of Roger as she tugged his face down to her breasts or the way his tall body caged her against the floor with every thrust into her. 

Once they were finished, Roger gathered his things and they said their thanks and goodbyes before Hermione went to bed.

On Monday morning Hermione felt empowered, ready to return to work, and not be affected by Draco Malfoy.

Curse him for being so bloody attractive. 

Hermione tried to push aside her growing attraction for her boss. She worked harder than ever, arriving early and only leaving once nearly everyone else had. This meant she was often the only one in the building aside from Draco Malfoy.

Of course.

As the weeks progressed, she realised she needed something substantially more efficient than random hookups with Roger to keep her mind off of her boss.

She turned to magical solutions first, of course.

It only took her a day to figure out she needed to learn Occlumency. The difficulty was to find someone to teach her.

Chapter Text

When Hermione wasn’t busy working, attempting to ignore her growing attraction to her boss, she researched Occlumency. She knew her old Professor Snape was adept at it. But her relationship with Snape had never been one to speak highly about and she wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of returning to school and her old Professor.

Instead, after a couple of weeks of fruitless research she wrote him a letter and asked for his help to find someone else closer to London to teach her.

The letter her old professor returned delivered a shocking surprise.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to her that Draco Malfoy was a natural at Occlumency. It would have helped him a great deal in any business-related relationship to keep neutral and avoid any conflicts of interest.

Truly, if she thought about it, it only made sense that he would be such a great Occlumence and excel at his work.

Over the next couple of days, Hermione studied his schedule all over again. Looking for a spot she could possibly sneak for herself and the request she was sure was a horrible idea but also her last resort.

She was well aware that asking the object of her attraction to teach her Occlumency so she could quash that attraction was a fatal idea. Yet Mr Malfoy was the only known and accomplished Occlumence for miles who she believed would even think about helping her.

It was a Wednesday afternoon when she kept his calendar clear for his final hour before the end of the day. All day, she wore her nerves on her sleeves, scared of how he might reject her.

Half the people in the building had already gone home. Mr Nott waved his goodbyes just a few minutes ago when Hermione gathered her courage and knocked on Mr Malfoy’s door.

“Mr Malfoy?” She stood by the door, still holding onto the handle, her feeble attempt to stay professional.

“Yes, Miss Granger. Please, come in.” He fixed his attention on her instead of the papers in front of him, steepling his fingers atop his desk.

“Thank you, sir. I was wondering…” She trailed off, biting her lip nervously.

“Yes, Miss Granger?”

“Professor Snape has informed me you’re an Occlumens.” His brows rose momentarily before his expression neutralised again. This time she recognised the use of Occlumency behind his eyes.

“I am,” he confirmed and Hermione gathered a slip of more courage to ask for what she wanted.

“It’s just, I was wondering, sir, if possible if you could perhaps teach me?” She fiddled her fingers nervously in front of herself, trying her best to look at him and yet not look at him. Mr Malfoy leaned back in his chair, studying her for a long moment.

“You want me to teach you Occlumency?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why?”

“I feel,” she bit her lip before she continued. With her eyes on the floor, she failed to see Mr Malfoy narrow his eyes at her for the time her teeth sunk into her bottom lip.

“I feel it would be prudent for me to learn. It would benefit the company if I were to learn. If you plan for me to attend more meetings like I have done this week.” Only after giving this sorry excuse of a reason did she look up.

His gaze was intent on her but not negatively so.

“Perhaps you are correct, Miss Granger. However, I hardly think I have the time to teach you, even if I-“

“But you do.” She stopped herself from sounding too eager. “Apologies sir, but you do. You have an hour every Thursday afternoon.”

“Hmm.” He scrutinised her and for a moment she was sure he could see right through her and the fact that that particular hour was only available because she had made it so. 

“I see. Well, then.” He started to gather his papers into neat piles, without looking at her.

“I suppose we shall see tomorrow whether or not you are adept for Occlumency or not. Good afternoon, Miss Granger.”

“Good afternoon, sir.” Hermione hurried to leave the room and pack her things, not wanting to push her luck after getting what she wanted.

All night, she did as the books instructed and she meditated.

However, nothing could’ve prepared her for what she was to experience the following afternoon.

It was the last hour of the work day, Hermione had made sure of this. Mr Nott had left right after lunch for some meetings out of town and Hermione was left to fret over when the time would strike three in the afternoon. At precisely three, she gently knocked before stepping inside Mr Malfoy’s office, closing the door behind her.

He stood by the tall windows, rolling his sleeves up past his elbows. Hermione licked her lips before she pushed the attraction as far from her mind as possible.

She desperately hoped Occlumency would help her.

“Right, Miss Granger.” Mr Malfoy turned to face her, his hands back in the pockets of his tailored trousers. “Before we begin any sort of teaching I’m sorry I must test your mind and see what I have to work with.”

“Oh, I see, okay, sir.” Hermione stepped further into the office and took up the spot Mr Malfoy indicated for her. They sat in chairs opposite each other.

“I’ve done a tremendous amount of research and I meditate nearly every evening and-“ Mr Malfoy held up a hand and cut her off.

“That is all well and good, Miss Granger. But if the mind is not cut out for Occlumency none of that will matter. Now,” He paused and adjusted his seat. Hermione did the same.

“For a brief moment, I will use Leglimency to penetrate your mind to attest if you have any abilities for Occlumency. Try to remain calm throughout this. I will ask you further questions after, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, now relax.” Mr Malfoy leaned forward and placed a finger on either side of her temples. Hermione held back her flinch from his proximity and instead closed her eyes to breathe in his cologne. It overpowered her and hung in her nostrils while she felt… something inside her head. It barely lasted a minute before Mr Malfoy leaned back again.

“Very good, Miss Granger. I think we can work with that.”

Hermione smiled and relaxed further into her chair at this declaration.

What followed next was several minutes of lengthy explanations Hermione would never have been able to find in any book. Mr Malfoy explained about the levels of the mind that Occlumency allowed the person to access and seal off when used correctly. He instructed on more techniques than just meditation to calm the mind and prepare it for proper Occlumency.

“I want you to employ these techniques every night before you sleep. Your mind is most vulnerable when you sleep but the best Occlumence can still protect their minds while sleeping.”

“Can you?”

He stopped short at her blunt question and Hermione nearly apologised for her forwardness but she truly wanted to know. It was highly impressive.

“I can.” He confirmed and Hermione smiled in thanks for telling her.

“Before we depart today, I would like to carry out a small test, just to see how much we have to work with.” Mr Malfoy rose from his chair, brushing down his trousers and indicating for Hermione to take a stand too.

“All right. What would you have me do, Mr Malfoy?”

“Raise your shields. Keep me out of your mind. I’m going to see how much work there is to be done.”

Hermione nodded and before she had further time to react, a force attempted to enter her mind. She pushed it sideways only for it to circle and try again. Hermione’s eyes widened slightly at the calm sight of Mr Malfoy before her while he tried to enter her mind. While she struggled to just keep her eyes straight, he looked as calm as ever.

She wondered briefly if he would look just as calm when he was with a witch. If he ever lost his composure or if he was always the calm and collected Mr Malfoy she witnessed every day.

Before she could do anything more about it, her mind diverted and steered in the direction of the fantasy she had used that morning in her shower. The one where Mr Malfoy bent her over his desk and- 

Oh fuck!

She fell back, nearly landing on her arse. Such was the force with which Mr Malfoy had retreated from her mind. She struggled to support her weight with a hand on his polished desk. The same desk she had just envisioned he-

No.

She shut her eyes and forced the images from her mind before she dared look up at her boss.

What she saw made her almost cry. His nostrils flared and now that she knew, she could see the signs of his Occlumency sweep across his features.

“Good afternoon, Miss Granger.” Then he swept from the room without another word and Hermione tiredly slumped to the floor, tears slowly leaking from her eyes.

She thought about packing her things from her desk before she left because she was sure to be fired after this.

She was too drained to go home and instead Apparated to Harry’s flat to ask him to help her drown her worries in whatever alcohol he had ready. She had not expected Harry to open his door, dressed smartly and looking like someone about to go out.

“It’s only Thursday,” Hermione replied, stepping past Harry and thus overruling whatever plans he had. She heard him grumble something from behind her before he closed his door.

“I was going out with Cedric, not that it matters to you.” Harry crossed his arms and Hermione studied him closer. He did look very smart. Black trousers (the ones she had helped him pick out because they showed off his arse quite nicely) paired with a cream shirt, which he had only tucked in halfway. To complete his look, he had attempted to clean his glasses and tame his unruly hair but even Hermione could see how little effort he had put into that. His matching jacket was in his hand and she assumed he had been about to put it on before she waltzed in.

“I think I accidentally showed my boss one of my sex fantasies about him.”

Harry’s jaw dropped simultaneously with his jacket falling to the floor.

“Let me just floo-call Cedric, drinks are in the kitchen.”

While Hermione could hear Harry’s voice from his sitting room, she busied herself in the kitchen finding whatever bottle held the most alcohol before downing a heavy swig. It burned down her throat and only after taking another swig did she look at the label.

“How the hell do you have muggle Vodka? Oh, hello Cedric.” Hermione faltered in the sitting room when she was met with the tall and also very handsome Cedric Diggory.

“Hello, Hermione. I can leave if you want me to. I just wanted to pop over to give Harry something since he can’t come out tonight.”

“Oh, that’s nice I suppose. And you don’t have to leave. I could use the distraction tonight.”

“From what?”

“She has sex fantasies about her boss and he found out today.”

“Harry!” Hermione nearly threw the bottle at her friend, who ducked behind Cedric, laughing hysterically. She even saw Cedric grin a little.

“Can we not talk about my problems?” Hermione found a chair to sit on and continued to drink the horrid Vodka. Harry stepped around Cedric again, seemingly pleased to see Hermione slightly calmer. He straightened himself before looking at Cedric.

“What was it you wanted to give me then?”

Cedric blushed a bit.

“Oh, well, this.” Then he cupped his hands around Harry’s face and leaned in to kiss him. Hermione froze mid-motion, the bottle halfway to her mouth again.

In Cedric’s hands, she saw Harry freeze too. But only for half a second. Then he caught on and clasped his hands around Cedric’s waist, pulling the two of them closer together and the kiss visibly grew deeper between them. 

Hermione closed her eyes and drank some more.

When they hadn’t stopped kissing after another mouthful of horrendous Vodka, Hermione cleared her throat and the two blokes broke apart. Harry was flushed and grinning stupidly. Cedric looked proud and like he would carry Harry to his bedroom if only either said the word.

“You can stay Cedric, but you’ll have to wait to shag Harry until I’ve left.”

Harry broke into a nervous laugh and awkwardly detangled himself from Cedric, excusing himself to find some glasses and more decent alcohol in the kitchen.

With just the two of them, Hermione smirked at Cedric, pulling out a chair for him.

“Was that your first kiss?” She grinned and offered the bottle, which Cedric declined. He shook his head.

“It was not.”

Hermione waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. She knew Harry and Cedric had started dating after the same night she met Roger and took him home for the first time. However, unlike her and Roger and their strictly physical relationship, Harry and Cedric seemed to be heading for something more. Hermione was glad. She loved Harry dearly, he was her best friend and he deserved some happiness in his life with the miserable family he had.

Given the short demonstration of their kiss before, she could tell they were both as much into each other as the other wizard. She could also tell that Harry was still feeling self-conscious about being with a wizard. Back in the day, before Harry would accept the fact that he liked wizards, he and Hermione had experienced a lot of firsts together. Including sex. That also happened to be the night Harry confessed to her that he was very much gay and very sorry about it on her behalf. Hermione only told him she loved him and they’d remained friends ever since, always telling each other everything. 

This was why she knew Harry and Cedric hadn’t taken that step yet. Harry would have told her. It took her another swig of Vodka to realise that maybe it would’ve happened tonight if she hadn’t shown up.

Ugh, she was a shit friend.

Harry returned with some glasses and what looked to be elf wine. He pulled a chair closer to sit next to Cedric and that made up Hermione’s mind. Before Harry could even pour each of them a glass, she swiped it from his hands.

“Thank you. I’ll be going home then. You two just…” she gestured between them and tilted her head towards the bedroom.

“Do whatever you had planned. I’ll take this to bed with me tonight.” She hugged the bottle close and attempted to laugh. Harry hurried to her side before she could even grab a handful of floo powder.

“Are you sure, Hermione? What about…”

“If Draco Malfoy saw what I’m sure he did, then he can either fire me tomorrow or make my fantasy come true. Either way, I’m just going to go home and get proper drunk now.”

“I think you’re already well on your way there,” Cedric murmured from his seat.

“Oh hush you!” Hermione reached for the floo powder before she hugged Harry goodbye.

“You floo me tomorrow and tell me everything. I want to know all the details about what a great shag Cedric is.” She was sure she had meant to whisper it but from the way Harry went rigid in her arms, that may not have been the case. Harry opened his mouth, about to say something, but Cedric beat him to it.

“Don’t worry, he will.”

Harry’s eyes widened.

“Goodnight, Hermione.” Then he practically pushed her into the flames before she could even call out the address of her flat.

As expected, an owl waited for her when she returned home. What she had not expected was the content of the letter it carried. She popped the cork on the elf wine and took a hearty sip before opening the letter.

Miss Granger

After our lesson this afternoon, I left with the sudden realisation that we would need a different approach to teach you Occlumency. I ask that you kindly read the enclosed documents, carefully and preferably twice, before you report to my office first thing in the morning with your determination.

Mr D. Malfoy

Hermione stared at the letter and read it twice more before the words sunk in that she had not been fired. Instead, her boss wanted to use a different approach to teaching her. Could it be because of what she was sure he had seen in her mind?

The elf wine was left on the counter as she skimmed over the letter once more, her imagination running wild with crazy - and very filthy - ideas.

With trembling fingers, she unfurled the second document and found what appeared to be… a contract.

She studied it and her throat caught on some of the words, backtracking her reading several times. 

…penetrative tests…

…explicit sexual consent between both parties….

…purely physical and educational…

Once she had read it the first time, her cheeks were flushed and her mind raced.

She read it a second time, taking notes to make sure she had understood everything correctly. Then she grabbed her vibrator from her bedside table and headed for a warm bath to end her day.

---------

His door was open the next morning and Hermione clutched the contract to her chest as she closed his door from inside his office.

Mr Malfoy glanced up, noting who had entered his office, before focusing back on his task. It took a couple more minutes before he shuffled his work aside and directed his attention back to her. 

Hermione stood with her back straight in front of his desk, slowly unfolding the pages.

“You’ve read it carefully, I presume, Miss Granger.”

“I have.”

“And? Do you have any questions?”

“A couple.” She couldn’t stop the twitch of a smile. Mr Malfoy did the same.

“Of course. Go on.”

“Right, this contract,” she hesitated, glancing over some of the words again. Mr Malfoy nodded for her to continue. “It states certain terms of your method of teaching in very graphic detail.”

“It does. I assumed, after what I witnessed yesterday, that would not be an issue.”

“Oh, it’s not. I’m more concerned with who else has seen this.”

“No one. I made the contract myself and owled it directly to you. I gave it great thought. You were right, Miss Granger, that you would benefit greatly with a skill such as Occlumency if you are to keep working for me. I discovered that your shields are strong but easily distracted by certain fantasies.”

“Do I… do I need to apologise for those, sir?”

“I would not have sent you this contract if I felt that was the case.”

“Right. So if I sign this…?”

“I will teach you Occlumency. But not in any ordinary way. I will not deny, Miss Granger, that you are very attractive and even I have had certain thoughts. So, I hatched this way of teaching, which I believe will be beneficial to both of us.”

“Right.”

“As you are well aware of my schedule, I only have time for one lesson a week. Did you read the final terms of the agreement?”

“I did, yes.”

“And will those be something you can live up to?”

Hermione looked Mr Malfoy over, from the crispness of his suit that day to the slight curl of his lips and his eyes which were focused entirely on her.

She thought about the last terms of the contract.

1. While he was teaching her there would be no romantic entanglements. These lessons would be entirely physical and both would be free to date, if they so wished.
2. Outside of the lessons, everything would be as it was. This would be entirely between them and no one else. Just as either of them were free to end the contract at any given time, should they want to.
3. Mr Malfoy was in charge at all times.

“Do you have a quill?”

Mr Malfoy smirked and handed over a quill. Hermione signed her name faster than she had ever done in her life. Once the ink dried, Mr Malfoy rolled up the contract and filed it away in a smaller cabinet Hermione hadn’t seen before. He closed it before she had time to see what else he kept in there.

He walked around his desk, stopping so close to her that she felt his breath on her neck.

“For your first lesson next week,” he gently pulled on one of her curls and barely grazed his nose under her ear. “I want you to continue your meditations to strengthen your shields.”

Hermione nodded and worked very hard to control her breathing as Mr Malfoy’s fingers danced along her neck, moving dangerously low towards her collar.

“Additionally, I want you to store up a few memories for me.”

“Wh-what kind of memories, Mr Malfoy?”

“Hmm,” the vibration of his voice slithered across her skin and she shivered in anticipation of what he would do to her. “Memories for me to find. Memories of you. Alone. Preferably naked, but this once I’ll leave that choice to you. Before I bend you over my desk, I need to know your reactions when you pleasure yourself.”

Hermione’s breath hitched and she had to close her eyes because of all the ideas that immediately flooded her mind.

“Now, let me be clear, Miss Granger. While you are free to date whichever sad excuse for a wizard while I teach you, I don’t want to find any memories of you with another wizard. Just you. If you believe you can hide away these memories, you are free to do however you please. If not…” He trailed off and Hermione bit her lip because of the implications of what he just said. His eyes caught on the little tell of hers. Before he could display any reaction, he straightened and refocused on her.

“Do you think you can be a good girl and do that for me?” 

The timbre of Mr Malfoy’s voice made Hermione tremble with all the things she hoped he would do to her. She eyed the desk in front of them and her fantasy that brought her into this resurfaced.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Good.” His presence vanished from beside her and air rushed back into her lungs.

“Until next Thursday, Miss Granger. I believe I have an important meeting in thirty minutes that I need to prepare for.” He was back in his chair, shuffling papers and silently dismissing Hermione.

She breathed deeply twice more before willing her legs to work and back to her desk.

Focusing on her work had never been more difficult than that Friday.

The task Mr Malfoy had set her haunted her all weekend before she finally found the nerve to touch herself.

Chapter Text

The next week was close to torture for Hermione. Having to work for Mr Malfoy knowing what awaited her Thursday afternoon was enough for her to make a new memory for him every night when she retired from work.

She could not help but be incredibly impressed with the way he carried himself every day, not even showing any inclinations to be bothered or drawn to her in the same way she was to him.

On Wednesday, he called her to his office to clarify that he wanted her to attend that afternoon’s meeting. He explained that he needed an extra pair of eyes and hands to help document what went over during the meeting. Just before she departed his office, he lowered his voice and told her it was to be a test of her mental shields as well before their lesson on Thursday.

Her lunch on Wednesday sat untouched on the table while she just sipped her water and listened to a few of her co-workers chat about what their plans were for the coming weekend.

Just before 2 o’clock, Hermione slipped into Mr Malfoy’s office. She conjured mugs for tea or coffee on the low table he had between a half circle of chairs that stood by the window. Her boss entered only a minute after her, appraised what she had prepared and gave her a satisfied nod. Hermione wilfully ignored how this silent gesture of praise made her shiver and instead prepared to be his extra ears for the next hour.

“Ah, Draco Malfoy, as I live and breathe.” 

Hermione jumped from her seat and brushed down her skirt right before Mr Malfoy raised a brow at the voice that had called him out.

The man who entered the office was burly, yet handsome. He had curly hair and deep-set eyes that immediately searched her out.

“And who might this wonderful creature be?” He blatantly ignored Mr Malfoy in favour of coming over to take Hermione’s hand and kiss the back of her palm. She let him, only to gauge a reaction from her boss on how she was to react professionally in this setting.

“Hermione Granger, sir.” 

“Miss Granger is here as my PA,” Mr Malfoy announced as he unbuttoned his waistcoat and gestured for them to sit.

“The name is Cormac McLaggen, Miss, I’m sure you’re familiar with the family business.” He leered at her and Hermione tried to retrieve her hand, which he still held onto.

“The name does ring a bell,” she admitted and sat next to Mr Malfoy, trying to keep her distance from Mr McLaggen.

He hummed in appreciation and she did not miss how his eyes roamed over her.

“Shall we discuss business, then?” Mr Malfoy’s voice rose a bit and shook Mr McLaggen back to why he was there.

Over the next hour, Hermione was present at the type of business meeting that mostly consisted of leers and lewd remarks from Mr McLaggen about her and what type of work she did. Mr Malfoy held himself proudly through the hour and never broke his professional facade. 

However, Hermione saw the way he changed with every minute and was not surprised by the way he dismissed Mr McLaggen towards the end of the meeting.

“Thank you for your time, Mr McLaggen. However, I do not feel that Draconite Inc. and your family’s business will align this time around. Perhaps at another time.” Mr Malfoy held out his hand. Mr McLaggen shook it begrudgingly, his eyes still on Hermione as she waved her wand to tidy their used mugs.

“Such a shame. I had rather looked forward to working more closely with you, Mr Malfoy.” Even as he said this, Hermione felt his eyes bore into her backside the minute she turned to leave the office.

“I’m sure. Good day, Mr McLaggen.”

Hermione hurried to hide in the small supply closet. She was sure Mr McLaggen had intentions to seek her out otherwise. Sure enough, when she poked her head around the doorframe, she saw him linger by her desk. She waited several minutes and finally heard him huff a breath and leave.

Without hiding any of her emotions, she stormed into her boss’ office.

“What was that?”

“Miss Granger, thank you for joining us. You were most helpful.”

“How so? Other than the fact that he couldn’t stop ogling me the entire time.”

“As I knew he would.”

“What?” Hermione faltered, at a loss for words. Mr Malfoy looked up at her from his seat behind his desk. The serious businessman he always was.

“Cormac McLaggen pretends to be a professional. But if you place a beautiful witch in the same room with him, he shows his true colours and all manners of professionalism vanishes out the window. I wanted you in the meeting today to prove this and avoid any ill feelings of having to reject his business proposal.”

Hermione reeled at the fact that she had been used for her looks. She was torn between feeling offended and flattered that he had thought her beautiful enough for this purpose.

“Oh, I see.”

“Is there a problem with this, Miss Granger? Please do not think I think of you in this way. You are a valued employee of mine and I do not hold the same superficial sentiments as someone as Cormac McLaggen.”

“No, I’m- it’s fine. I just- If this is to happen again, please inform me in advance.” He raised an eyebrow when she drew her shoulders back.

“If I had known, I would’ve worn a different dress to work today.”

She saw his nostrils flare briefly before his calm composure overtook him again.

“Very well, Miss Granger.”

“Right.” 

She turned to leave but he stopped her just before she reached the door.

“Perhaps you should wear this dress you are thinking of tomorrow, Miss Granger.” 

Hermione heard the request but recognised the sound of his voice. Mr Malfoy never asked for things this way, he inwardly told her to wear such a dress the next day when they would have her first lesson.

“Of course, sir.”

Hermione went home with a stomach full of butterflies. The idea that Mr Malfoy thought her beautiful still stuck in her mind when she crawled into bed later that night after a hot bath. She was relaxed and jittery at the same time.

Thursday afternoon would be her first lesson in Occlumency with Mr Malfoy according to the contract they had signed. She knew she should expect something in the sexual terms of things, she just had no idea what exactly, and this irked her.

Hermione always knew things. It was not knowing that drove her to be such a hard-working student at school, later propelling her to gain the job she won at Draconite Inc.

She slept fitfully, waking in the middle of the night after a very vivid dream of her boss. Knowing every item in her desk drawer, she reached into the darkness and found what she was looking for.

With her eyes closed, Hermione attempted to shield the memory of her pleasure away from her boss. Her orgasm hit her harder and faster than expected when she thought of his hands on her.

Thursday could not pass fast enough. Hermione found herself distracted all day even though she performed every task asked for to perfection. Mr Nott complimented her after lunch for her assistance with a difficult client. Hermione preened internally at the praise but kept her head low when she caught Mr Malfoy eying the two of them from the open door to his office.

In the weeks she had worked there, she had learned during the shared lunch breaks that Mr Malfoy rarely kept his office door open. It was a new development that caused plenty of gossip to circulate on the shared floors of the building.

When the hour closed in on Hermione to knock on the door to Mr Malfoy’s office she found her hands clammy and her nerves frazzled. She made sure her desk was in pristine order before she gently knocked on his open door.

“Ah, Miss Granger, please close the door behind you.”

She did so with shaking fingers.

Then she watched Mr Malfoy calmly rearrange some of his paperwork, setting it aside to clear a great part of his desk. Hermione bit her lip at the thought that he might bend her over his desk so soon.

Drawing his wand, Mr Malfoy stood and silently cast several spells that danced through the air. Hermione furrowed her brows when he replaced his wand on his desk.

“I assumed you wished for these lessons to remain private,” Mr Malfoy spoke in a calm and unaffected voice as he began to roll up his sleeves.

“That would perhaps be for the best, yes,” Hermione confirmed, waiting to be told what to do. Mr Malfoy saw this and gestured to one of the chairs. When she was seated, he took up the opposite.

“Let me be clear, Miss Granger.” He sat facing her, hands on his knees.

“I will not be touching you today.”

Her heart sank as every fibre of anticipation slipped from her body. Mr Malfoy must’ve sensed this when his eyes gleamed with his next words.

“These first few lessons are a sort of assessment if you will. I will use them to determine what type of work we need to put into your Occlumency training. Once I’ve established this, I will proceed to my other method of teaching, as stated in the contract. If at any point, you wish to terminate the contract you need only say the word.”

Hermione shook her head.

“Very well,” Mr Malfoy cleared his throat, shifting to the edge of his seat. He gestured for her to do the same.

“In a moment, I’m going to penetrate your mind. I’m going to sift through your memories. I’ll find your weak spots and point out where you need to strengthen your mental shields. As I do so, I genuinely hope you have hidden a special treat for me, Miss Granger,” he spoke in a voice laced with power and decadence. It made Hermione clench her thighs, the light fabric of her dress grating gently against her skin as she adjusted her seat on the chair.

Why Mr Malfoy had to have leather chairs was beyond her. The cool leather did nothing to help her search for friction at the moment.

“Of course, sir.” She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes when instructed to, just catching him summoning his wand from his desk. She heard the way Mr Malfoy shifted in his seat opposite her right before she felt something against her mind. She refocused her power to her shields, twisting her magic to strengthen it. 

The touch of Mr Malfoy’s magic inside her head was intoxicating and he was barely doing anything. It felt light like he was just gently poking the inside of her head with his finger. This went on for several minutes and Hermione was nearly out of breath when he retreated.

“Quite good. Your initial shields are decent enough, but anyone with a will to bend them can do so.”

Hermione’s initial joy at his praise seeped from her drained body.

“Do not take my words wrong, Miss Granger,” he continued when he no doubt saw her physical reaction to his words. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

“Assuming this is your first true encounter with Occlumency, I would say you have done very well. Better than most.”

“It is, sir, thank you.” Her words were gasped and hurried as she struggled to regain control of her traitorous body and how it responded to every word Mr Malfoy spoke.

“Good. Now,” Mr Malfoy pushed forward so his knees brushed hers. “This was just the initial round. I realise I said I wouldn’t touch you today. While I may not touch you in the way you’ve anticipated, I will have to touch your head in a moment, if that’s okay with you, Miss Granger?” He held his now empty hands out, palms up for her to decide. She quickly swallowed the lump in her throat, glancing at his wand on the table beside them.

“Yes, please, sir.”

His eyes glinted when he leaned forward, setting his fingers to her temples. Hermione shivered at his touch, instantly closing her eyes.

“Draw up your shields,” Mr Malfoy instructed in a low voice that made her want to do something quite the opposite.

“Not today, Miss Granger, you wanted to learn, correct?”

“Yes, I do.”


“Then do as I say, draw up your shields again.”

Hermione did as asked. Then she gasped when his prodding inside her head turned more forcefully.

“I’m going to dig for those memories, Miss Granger. Don’t let me find them instantly. Divert me.”

“H-how?”

“Show me other things. When concealing memories, you show other memories you think the other person is looking for. Diversion, like, yes, just like that.” His voice was a balm to Hermione as he talked her through it. She skittishly dug around her mind for insignificant memories to show him. At one point, she drifted by a memory of Roger’s head between her legs. She didn’t miss the tension in Mr Malfoy’s fingers right before he skated by it, looking for something else.

Surely minutes passed before he found the one he was evidently looking for. Hermione fought for breath as she felt him watch the memory along with her. The way she wrapped her hands around the toy from her bedside drawer and then slid it between her legs. Mr Malfoy’s fingers stiffened on her temples when her memory self gasped once the toy started to move inside her. Hermione tried to escape the memory but found walls surrounding her mental awareness.

“I haven’t finished with this memory, Miss Granger,” Mr Malfoy crooned. Hermione felt the slickness begin to gather in her knickers and cursed herself for wearing the short dress Mr Malfoy had asked for. She would surely be leaving a damp spot on the leather sofa after this.

Forced to watch a memory of the way she pleasured herself, Hermione briefly questioned the sanity of this contract. However, when Mr Malfoy’s breath ghosted across her chin upon seeing her reach her orgasm, she just wanted him to touch her.

Instead, his hands dropped from her head and he moved back in his chair. Hermione’s eyes inadvertently went for his lap where she saw evidence of his sentiments towards the memory.

“You did very well today, Miss Granger,” he praised her, never taking his eyes off of her.

“Thank you, sir,” Hermione spoke under her breath, unsure what to do next. She desperately wanted to get off after that experience and she had a feeling Mr Malfoy would too, judging from the look at his trousers.

“For next week, I want you to work on strengthening your shields further. The goal is to keep me out, so I don’t discover those delicious memories. Once you’ve successfully managed that, we shall proceed.” 

Hermione read between the unspoken words he left hanging between them. She thought briefly about the fantasy he had seen previously, of him taking her on his desk, wondering if he no longer wanted that.

“For next week, Miss Granger, I hope I won’t be forced to see anyone or anything but your hands in your memories.” He said in a final tone that left no room for argument. It was the same tone she had heard him use when finalising business deals. The one that no one ever said no to.

“No, sir. Of course, not.”

“Very well, until next time, Miss Granger.” He didn’t get up from his seat, only gestured for her to leave. She rose to her feet awkwardly, trying her best to look over her shoulder to verify if she had left a damp spot on the sofa or not. But of course, she had. 

She was about to apologise when Mr Malfoy spoke again.

“Leave it, Miss Granger. It will undoubtedly not be the last thing to leave its mark in my office.”

“Right, of course, I’ll just, um, good day, sir,” Hermione scrambled for words, hurrying to leave the building.

Going back to work on Friday was less awkward than she thought it would be. Until later in the afternoon, when Mr Malfoy asked her to confirm his appointment for the evening. Hermione stared at the names in the calendar.

Daphne Greengrass @The Bowtruckle Event 20.00

Right.

She made the phone calls needed before going home for the day.

Harry was on a date with Cedric that night, so she chose some self-love with a tub of ice cream and her favourite book after Harry promised to go dancing with her on Saturday.

It wasn’t that she was pining over her boss. She really wasn’t. 

It was more that he had practically demanded her not to be with anyone else while he taught her Occlumency and yet he was free to galivant around the place with whichever witch he wanted.

She was halfway tempted to floo-call Roger and let him shag her senseless, but once she had the floo powder in hand she remembered the way Mr Malfoy had flinched on one of those memories.

The worry that he might not teach her won out. She grumbled to herself, going to bed with a wicked promise to log a bunch of filthy memories for her boss to find from the next night in her most scandalous dress.

Going dancing with Harry was always fun. As it turned out, it was just as fun when Cedric joined them because it meant Harry loosened up. In general, he had loosened up quite a bit after he and Cedric had started dating (or shagging, which was something Harry turned out not to be too shy to talk about after a few drinks).

However, once Harry and Cedric started to snog in the middle of the dance floor, Hermione decided it was time to call it a night and went home for a night of memory-making. She made extra sure to do just as asked. 

No toys.

Just her hands.

Next week, when Mr Malfoy found that particular memory, she felt his fingers slip on her temples before regaining their steady hold.

Things went on like this for nearly a month.

Then one Thursday afternoon, after Mr Malfoy had watched a memory of Hermione alone in her shower, he pulled back with a stiff upper lip.

“I believe next week, we shall move forward in your teachings, Miss Granger,” he proclaimed casually. Hermione hastily shut her mouth.

“You believe I'm ready, Mr Malfoy?”

“I wouldn’t say otherwise if I didn’t believe it.”

The following week was the slowest she had yet to experience working at Draconite Inc.

Chapter Text

From Monday to Friday, 8.30 to 15.30 every day, Hermione went to work and did her job like any other employee at Draconite Inc. She drank her tea with her co-workers when they complained about the faulty warming charms on the lower floors. Or she had lunch with a few co-workers who she started to feel a strange kinship with, that perhaps they could be friends. She greeted her boss as any other employee did, even if she blushed a little when Mr Nott handed her a flashy compliment.

These compliments happened less by the day, she noticed. She briefly wondered if the regular appointment in Mr Nott’s schedule for a private lunch every Wednesday was what kept him occupied. At least, that was what the gossip around the office said.

Hermione paid little attention to this, however.

She did her job and went home. She spent her evenings alone or with Harry when he wasn’t busy with Cedric, which was turning out to be almost every night. Hermione didn’t mind this. Cedric was a nice enough bloke and he was good for Harry. Their relationship seemed to have helped Harry truly accept the fact that he was determinedly into wizards and not witches.

She also thought it helped a great deal with the way Cedric looked without a shirt on. From that night on, she remembered to call through the floo before stepping through. Harry’s face had been crimson all evening, while Cedric had only laughed and made jokes about the fact that Hermione had walked in when Harry had his lips firmly wrapped around Cedric’s cock.

When Thursday came around, however, Hermione eagerly anticipated when the time would strike 15.00 and she would meet Mr Malfoy for her lessons in Occlumency.

This was to be her first week where they progressed in his teachings.

Hermione had chosen her clothes with care that morning. She wore a loose skirt, that flared around her knees (one that had made Mr Nott drop his gaze briefly in the morning when she arrived at her desk) and a black oxford, that hugged her chest in just the right ways for a single button to be opened. Her heels clicked across the floors as she moved around that day. She kept fidgeting with her hair, having left it down in the morning but her neck grew too hot during the workday. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Granger,” Mr Nott called five minutes before three that afternoon. He popped in the door to Mr Malfoy on his way out.

“Try not to work yourself even duller than you are, mate, the birds won’t go for it.”

“Sod off, Theo,” Mr Malfoy drawled right before Theo ducked out the door, chuckling on his way.

“You too, Miss Granger, you should have some fun and not be stuck here all the time with that grump.” Mr Nott pressed the button for the lift and sent a cheeky grin her way while he waited.

“Unfortunately, Mr Malfoy and I have a standing appointment to set things in order every week,” Hermione explained as she gathered a stack of blank papers to hide behind the ruse she and Mr Malfoy had been forced to set up a few weeks prior when Mr Nott had discovered their names in their joined schedule.

“Right, well, don’t let him wear you down. You deserve some fun too, Miss Granger.” The lift announced its arrival. Mr Nott stepped in.

“I’ll be sure to let him know, Mr Nott. Enjoy the rest of your day.” Hermione dipped her head before she entered Mr Malfoy’s office.

“You don’t have to placate him, Miss Granger. His ego can barely fit inside his head as it is.”

Hermione giggled as she placed the blank papers on the table between the leather furniture. Mr Malfoy’s wand lay in the middle of the table, the black wood of it shining against the grey table surface. She stole a moment to study the wand, its surface pristine without any carvings unlike her own.

It fit the polished surface of Mr Malfoy. At least, the one he let show to the rest of the world. She knew nothing of what kind of man he was beneath the business front he portrayed when at work.

“Have you known Mr Nott very long then, sir?” She asked before turning to face him. He stopped what he had been doing, carefully arranging his things before giving his full attention to her.

“Theo and I were in the same year at school, though not the same house. Before we attended Hogwarts, we grew up as close friends. Our parents knew each other from years before and thus we were forced to become friends.”

“And you regret this?” She knew she might push things with her questions, but curiosity had always been part of her. It had also been part of what made her succeed and sometimes fail. 

Mr Malfoy studied her for a moment, weighing his words before rising to his feet.

“As it was, Theo and I grew close. That does not mean that there aren’t days where I regret his friendship.” His lips curled into something that could’ve been a grin with any other people. Hermione accepted his honest answer and decided not to push for more that day. Instead, she kept silent, waiting for how her lesson for the day would progress. As she held her tongue, she felt the warm gaze of Mr Malfoy travel up and down her body. He cocked his head appreciatively before gesturing for their usual seats.

Hermione followed easily, eagerly anticipating how her lesson that day would escalate.

As Mr Malfoy stepped up to the small table, he grasped his wand and made the usual enchantments to conceal their business from anyone else. Hermione felt the signature tingling of his magic wash over the room.

Still with his wand in one hand, he tugged on his trouser legs before sitting opposite her.
“Shall we begin today’s lesson, Miss Granger? Or do you prefer more small talk?” His voice sounded teasing. Hermione was greatly tempted to push on the issue of small talk but was more eager for her lesson.

“I’m ready, sir,” she confirmed, letting her mind close off as he had taught her until now. Needing to blink a bit extra, Mr Malfoy nodded when he recognised her concentration in her posture.

Keeping their gazes locked, he pointed his wand straight at her before she felt his magic wash over her. He never spoke the incantation, yet they both knew it.

Legilimens.

It had not been a shock to learn how adept Mr Malfoy was at non-verbal spells. What was a surprise was how easily it came to him along with wand-less magic. More often than not, she caught him performing the simplest of spells even without his wand.

She felt the light prodding inside her mind and worked harder to show him older memories in an attempt to keep him from the most recent ones she had made for the day. He followed her pattern easily. From the way he looked at her, she briefly wondered if he was just humouring her until she almost made him falter in a haze of memories from her school days.

Eventually, though, he found the memory she tried to keep from him that day.

She drew a deep breath when his magic released her, sagging a little on the sofa as a few beads of sweat formed on their brows.

“Very good, Miss Granger,” Mr Malfoy said, wiping his brow with a handkerchief he replaced in his breast pocket.

“I won’t be using my wand for the next part. That doesn’t mean you won’t feel me,” Mr Malfoy undid his cufflinks, preparing to roll up his sleeves. Hermione had to fight back the urge to lick her lips. She could never hide from the way his arms affected her. Before she could even blink, he flexed his fingers and told her to close her eyes.

Sitting with her back straight again, Hermione took a deep breath, closing her eyes. 

There was a ghost of touch near her temples when Mr Malfoy’s magic pierced her head again. The heat of his hands vanished.

“Breathe through it, Miss Granger, hold your concentration.”

Pressing her eyes firmly shut, she redoubled her effort to rebuild her shields after Mr Malfoy had broken through them a minute ago. For some reason, he gave her the time to do so. She’d nearly finished when she felt strong hands on her knees. 

“Concentrate,” his voice demanded and Hermione struggled to put in the same strength as before for her shields. Her mind was too scattered and focused on the touch of his hands on her knees.

His skin was softer than she expected. 

What did she expect?

Certainly, not fingers that stroked soft circles on the inside of her knees, with a gentle pressure to hold her steady. His palms were warm but not in a way that felt uncomfortable.

When she felt secure enough with her shields, she nodded.

“Hold your concentration. I’ll be looking for that memory again. Hide it better this time, Miss Granger,” his voice was deep. Inviting, even. 

Hermione did as she was told and buried the memory as far in her mind as possible.

Then Mr Malfoy began searching.

With each probe in her mind, his fingers slid further up her thigh. Still on top of her skirt but getting so close to her centre. 

“Breathe and concentrate, Miss Granger.” Another demand slipped from him. Hermione felt the heat of his body much closer. She jerked her head a little trying to gain an understanding of where precisely he was. At that point, she felt something else touch the inside of her knees.

The moment she took to consider and register that Mr Malfoy was on his knees between her knees was enough for him to push through more of her shields than anticipated. He broke them down harder and more determined than she’d ever experienced from him.

“You’re not concentrating, Miss Granger.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, sir, I will, I can, just… I just…” She didn’t know what she needed. Her senses were overpowered by the feeling of him between her legs. Even more so, when his hands drifted back to her knees. Hermione momentarily deflated, thinking that things were over and that she failed.

It was a lapse in judgment because Mr Malfoy seized the moment to barge through her mind while his hands brushed under her skirt to grasp her knees, hard.

“I’ll give you one minute to regain control before I push further.” His voice was hard but not disappointed. Hermione redoubled her effort, forcing the tempting feelings of his hands on her bare skin to the very back of her mind.

She could not, however, move past the fact that her knickers were well beyond damp and she was on her way to leave yet another spot on his leather sofa.

Mr Malfoy whispered the spell under his breath again and Hermione felt his magic increase inside her mind.

She gasped. His magical push in her mind had been a distraction from the fact that his hands had moved up the insides of her parted thighs. With little to no pressure, he pushed and she let her legs fall open with another gasp.

“Shields, Miss Granger,” he admonished while his thumbs brushed higher and higher towards the apex of her legs.

Hermione’s eyes fluttered with the sensitive touches. Any minute now, he would feel how wet she was. She wasn’t even sure if it was for him entirely or if it was the situation that made her this slick.

Grasping for her last mental capacities, she used every mental muscle to build her shields. 

It didn’t stop him, not in the least.

He tore them down, one by one. With each shield he broke down, his thumbs brushed higher and higher until he ran them across her damp knickers.

“Hmmm, perhaps you do not wish to learn, Miss Granger, is that it?”

“No! I mean, yes, I want to learn. I just….”

Both his thumbs pressed on the outside of her swollen clit and she nearly rolled her head back at the sensation.

“If we are ever to get to a point of control where I take you on my desk,” Hermione gasped at the mention of what they both knew he had seen in her mind, yet never spoken of. Undeterred, Mr Malfoy continued, while his thumbs began to stroke along her knickers.

“You need to focus. Your mind is stronger than your body. Pleasure can be silenced in the mind just as easily as it can be granted, right here.” At his final words, he pushed one thumb lower, against the edge of her entrance.

“I’ll try, I’ll try harder, just one minute,” Hermione panted for air. His thumbs continued their languid strokes along her knickers while she rebuilt and rebuilt again and again. When she felt ready, she nodded again.

“Hmmm,” Mr Malfoy hummed, gently pulling her knickers aside to let his thumb run through her soaking folds, sure to leave a spot on the leather now.

“Are you quite sure, your shields will hold this time?” The tip of his thumbs brushed her clit and she bucked her hips. She realised one of his hands had moved. This was underlined with his next push against one of her shields when he slid his flat palm under her, against her wet centre and pressed between her and the sofa. His fingers rippled against the thin fabric of her knickers, which he was already trying to work his way around.

Hermione gasped, one hand clutching at his wrist while she mentally did her best to push him back out, despite how much she wanted him in.

He might as well vanish her knickers at that point, they no longer held anything between them. She felt the heat of his fingers slide along the seam of her entrance, the same time a similar sensation shuddered through her mind.

“You only have one shield intact, Miss Granger.”

“Yes,” she croaked, jerking in her seat when one of his fingers lingered along the edge of her entrance.

She desperately wanted him to push inside her.

“I doubt it will hold much longer. When this happens, it becomes a question of diversion, just as we practised.” 

Hermione nodded, thinking she was ready for whatever he planned to do to her final shield.

However, she was not prepared for the way he tore it down.

With a mental stab to her shield, two of his fingers pushed inside her, making her crumble forward on a heavy exhale.

For weeks now, the only thing to touch her had been herself. This intimate touch of someone else between her legs was almost enough to send her over the edge too soon. His other thumb pressed on her clit, making Hermione squirm and whimper.

“Divert me, Miss Granger, so I don’t find the memory I’m looking for.” His demand was firm, the same way he stroked her inner walls with his fingers. Hermione clenched around him while she struggled to flick through her memories. She felt tempted to pull forward one with Roger but thought better of it in fear that Mr Malfoy might remove his hands.

Instead, she flicked through dozens of insignificant memories. Meetings at work, walks in the park with Harry, feeding her parents’ old cat, and getting dressed in the morning. Perhaps the last one was too dangerous to the one he was looking for because it made him pause to look at it further.

While they both played out the memory of her in red matching bra and knickers, sorting through her wardrobe, Mr Malfoy slowly pumped his fingers inside her.

“I do believe you’ve found a diversion tactic to your benefit, Miss Granger. Quite clever, I must admit,” his fingers sped up while his other thumb kept up working around her clit. Hermione could feel the heavy breath of her boss on her chest. When she opened her eyes, she caught him staring avidly at her chest, which was still covered in her black shirt.

He caught her eye. Then he changed the angle of his fingers and Hermione moaned. All her diversion tactics fell to the floor and within seconds, Mr Malfoy locked them in the memory he had been looking for.

Hermione was forced to replay the memory of the night before when she had woken from a very aroused dream of her and her boss. She had fallen asleep in nothing but her knickers and had easily thrown them and the covers off of her in her sleep, waking with her hand between her legs, working herself halfway to orgasm in her sleep.

Her eyes were locked on Mr Malfoy as they both mentally watched the memory on a loop. With each replay, Mr Malfoy picked up his strokes inside her and on her clit. Her hips were bucking, seeking all the friction she could get. She was so close.

“I think today will turn out to be a double lesson,” Mr Malfoy stated. He stopped everything he was doing for a second, Hermione continued to fuck herself on his fingers before he picked up his touches to her.

Something tickled inside her mind.

She was in the memory with her fingers flicking and pumping in desperate search of an orgasm. Yet she was also on the leather sofa, in front of Mr Malfoy, his fingers busy pulling an orgasm from her as well.

“In a moment, you’re going to come in your memory. I want you to come on my fingers too. When I say so, do you understand, Miss Granger?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he crooned, curling one finger in a hard and punishing stroke. Hermione’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head because the next moment, Mr Malfoy’s voice was deep and guttural.

“Come, Miss Granger.” 

Hermione cried out, grasping Mr Malfoy’s upper arms, as she clenched around his fingers with an explosive orgasm that rippled through her entire body. She shuddered and whimpered for the prolonged sensation of his fingers still inside her.

“Please, please, sir,” her voice sounded hoarse and broken, as she failed to hold on much longer to his upper arms.

She felt his magic pull back from her mind before he started to withdraw his hands from between her legs. Hermione was hunched over, her hands on his shoulders to hold herself upright. Her lungs still worked harder than ever to make her breathe through the aftershock.

Mr Malfoy’s hands were coated in her slickness as he dragged them back to her knees, before he rearranged her skirt around her legs, getting to his feet.

He pulled his handkerchief out to wipe his hands, though not before he ran one thumb along his lips, letting her arousal taint his mouth.

“I don’t believe I have to tell you what you need to work on for next time.”

“No, sir,” Hermione trembled as her mind raced.

“Good. If you cannot hold your shields for something this simple, you shouldn’t expect anything else from this.” He might as well say he was disappointed in her. His words felt like a slap, which was an even harsher contrast to the mind-altering orgasm he had just wrung from her.

“I’ll do better, sir, I promise. I didn’t know what to expect, I’m sorry,” she sounded pathetic, she knew it. A part of her wanted to yell at him for throwing her into this unprepared. But when she thought about it, that was how her boss did things. It was the way he worked too, when he asked her to perform certain tasks in the name of Draconite Inc.

Now she knew what to prepare for.

“You still want to learn in this manner?” He levelled her with a strange look, his head slightly tilted. Hermione got to her feet, her knees weak before she looked him in the eye.

“I want to learn,” she stated and held his stare. The way he taught her was enough to have her want to have daily lessons, yet she knew not to ask for it. Mr Malfoy folded his handkerchief back into his breast pocket. Hermione’s nose twitched with the knowledge that he would spend the rest of the day with the scent of her that close to him like that.

“Very well, Miss Granger.” Mr Malfoy acquiesced, dipping his head gently. There was a new and different heat in his eyes when he looked at her.

“Your homework for next week will be a little different,” he continued, slowly stepping around her.

“Based on this lesson, you know where your weaknesses are in your mental fortitude. Fix them.” He levelled her with a hard look before he continued. “Opposed to other weeks, where I’ve asked you to make as many memories for me as possible, this week,” he paused, crossing his arms with a challenging look on his face. “I want you to make only one memory for me. Bury it as deep as you possibly can and make it impossible for me to find. Next week I won’t go as easy on you as I did today.”

Hermione gulped. 

If her lesson that day had been easy, she dreaded, no, exhilarated at the idea of what might await her next week.

“Yes, sir,” she nodded, moving to leave for the day. One glance told her there was a new spot left over from her on the sofa. As always, she was about to open her mouth when Mr Malfoy cut her off.

“Leave it, Miss Granger.”

Chapter Text

That weekend, Hermione once again had to witness her boss photographed on the front page of several newspapers with a different witch. She had gotten used to seeing him with Daphne, she seemed to attend several charity events with him. But occasionally, he would bring along some new witch, Hermione had never seen. 

She wasn’t jealous.

At least that’s what she kept telling herself.

However, as the weeks progressed and he fucked her with his fingers, she wasn’t sure what the feeling was either. 

It grew increasingly difficult to stick to her side of his requirements for her as well. She was only meant to create one new memory a week, meaning she could only touch herself once a week and she was near bursting with a level of arousal she had yet to experience every Thursday when she stepped into Mr Malfoy’s office.

It had been four weeks since he first touched her. Since then, he had made her come apart with nothing but his hands and words on his sofa, leaning on his desk and even slightly pressed against the large windows facing the city. She could hardly walk into his office for anything business-related without a hint of a blush on her cheeks at the memory of what he had done to her.

Of course, he was always the professional who hardly raised a brow in her presence, maintaining the cool outward presence of everyone else.

This Friday afternoon, she was about to go home with nothing but the last points in the weekend itinerary to clear. She knocked on his doorframe since he kept the door open most days and found him in a heated conversation with Mr Nott.

They stopped talking the minute they heard her knock. Mr Malfoy looked angry while Mr Nott looked frustrated.

“We’ll discuss this later,” Mr Malfoy said. Hermione recognised the dismissal in his tone. Mr Nott did too from the way he tensed.

“Fine,” he bristled before bowing deeply with an exaggerated flourish.

“Don’t expect me to discuss the matter any further if you bring that attitude back on Monday,” Mr Malfoy snapped just before Mr Nott saluted his way out the door with a rude hand gesture Hermione would never dare even think about in the Draconite building. Mr Malfoy scoffed, dropping into his chair as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Word of advice, Miss Granger, never go into business with your friends,” he spoke sullenly. Hermione looked backwards to where she could hear Mr Nott grumble from the other office.

“Anything I can do to help, sir?” 

He raised his head at this point, his eyes narrowed at her.

“No, thank you. I assume you had other reasons for knocking?” He gestured for her to sit in one of the two chairs opposite his desk. Hermione bit her lip, looking at them. She opted to sit in the one he had pushed her legs apart in the day before. There were no visible stains from her as there usually were when she left his office. Even so, she sat daintily before spreading out his calendar for Saturday and Sunday.

“I just wanted to make sure you are updated on your schedule for the weekend, sir,” Hermione explained as she pointed out the changes that had recently been made at the insistent call from one Narcissa Malfoy.

“I see Mother has kept you busy, Miss Granger.” Mr Malfoy pulled one of the sheets closer to study with a frown.

“Only a little,” Hermione hedged even if she had spent several hours making sure Mr Malfoy would be present for every public event his mother had planned for him this weekend.

“She does this occasionally,” Mr Malfoy began, dropping the parchment with a curt nod. “It’s her way to needle into my life. She prays for grandchildren,” he grunted in an affronted sort of way.

“Is that not something you desire, sir?” Hermione asked in a timid voice, shuffling the parchment back in order. She didn’t dare look at her boss as the silence from his lack of response stuck between them.

Instead of answering her, he asked a question in return.

“You are 23 years old, correct, Miss Granger?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me, do you plan for children at this time in your life?”

She looked up at him, his eyes intent on her face. 

“No. Children are not part of my plan right now.”

“Nor mine, yet my mother refuses to acknowledge this when the majority of her society friends have grandbabies to coo over.” He sighed as he began to undo his cufflinks. Hermione swallowed, not daring to take her eyes away from the sliver of skin this revealed.

“I hope you’ll fare better than I do this weekend, Miss Granger.” 

Again, she recognised the dismissal in his tone, yet she waited a heartbeat before she rose and exited his office. When she had packed up her things, she paused at the door to look in again. Mr Malfoy stood with his hands in his pockets, looking out at the city. His sleeves were rolled past his elbows and his jacket slung over the back of a chair. She could see how his shoulder blades shifted with each deep breath. She wondered what it would feel like to let her nails run along those shoulder blades.

Then she shook her head and headed for the lift before her mind departed entirely in a direction that would make her weekend unbearable.

Luna was back for the weekend after having found…. some animal habitat Hermione forgot to pay attention to. Instead, she thrived on the meals Luna cooked up morning and midday for the two of them as they caught up on their lives. Even if the two of them shared an address, the other witch spent so little time in their shared flat that Hermione often felt like she lived alone.

“Oh, will Harry join us for dinner tonight?” Luna asked Sunday afternoon as she danced through the flat, performing what she called a nargle repellent dance because the flat was positively infected.

“He might, but we should expect Cedric to tag along. Those two have become inseparable lately.”

“How lovely,” Luna danced past her with a twinkle in her tone that made Hermione smile. 

As expected, Harry and Cedric stepped out of their floo later that night to be heartily embraced by Luna.

“Right, Cedric, this is Luna,” Harry offered as an explanation when Luna began to pluck invisible things off of Cedric’s shoulder. He just grinned at the petite blonde before she danced off again. Harry came over to hug Hermione before they all ventured to eat the delicious dinner Luna had cooked for them.

Despite her eccentric ways, Luna always proved to be a tremendous cook. Hermione never ate better than when Luna was home. Which was why she always saw more of Harry too in those days.

The atmosphere around their dinner was warm and loud, filled with laughter and interesting tales from all their professions. Luna spun tales of hidden magical places around the world while Cedric told the unnamed secrets of several Ministry workers he was forced to deal with in his position in the Wizarding Resources Department. Harry told them many stories of the Quidditch pitches around the country until one point when Luna exclaimed she had experienced the best tantric sexual awakening of her life in Cornwall.

“Oh, speaking of sexual awakenings, how’s that crush on your boss going?” Harry asked once their laughter died down. Hermione smacked him on the shoulder before he could dive away, but the damage had been done. Cedric and Luna’s attention was entirely focused on her.

“Isn’t this your boss?” Cedric asked as he pulled out a newspaper Hermione had forgotten to hide away earlier. It featured another cover spread of Mr Malfoy with Daphne Greengrass both of them dressed in splendid robes at an event she hadn’t bothered to read about.

“It is,” Hermione said through her teeth, trying to look away from the stunning smile Mr Malfoy sported in the picture.

“Honestly, Hermione, I don’t blame you one bit. I would climb him like a tree too.”

“Oi,” Cedric pulled Harry into an elbow-tight hug, forcing his mouth to his own.

“Sorry Cedric, but look at the man.” With their cheeks pressed together, they both studied the picture just as Mr Malfoy gave a slight wave of his hand. Hermione knew that gesture because it was followed by Mr Malfoy turning on his heel to walk out of the frame. She saw it the minute this happened by the way both Harry and Cedric’s brows rose on their foreheads.

“All right, fine, he’s got a nice arse,” Cedric conceded before tossing the newspaper aside.

“Yours is nicer,” Harry mumbled before he hurried to swallow a bite of pudding. Cedric’s smile was smug when he kissed the remaining raspberry off of Harry’s mouth.

“Just wait till I get my hands on yours later,” Cedric’s voice was husky and Harry’s cheeks tinted pink instantly. Hermione grinned partly because her friend was still adorably awkward about his relationship with Cedric and partly because they were too into each other.

“Might I suggest we finish our pudding before anyone’s arses are touched,” Luna offered flippantly, offering up another slice of raspberry pudding. Hermione hurried to accept, glad for the change in the conversation.

But of course, she was not that lucky.

“So what about your crush, Hermione?” Harry asked around another mouthful. Hermione grumbled, briefly thinking back to her last lesson and how hard she had come undone.

“I’m handling it,” was all she said with a tiny smirk. 

The rest of the night she was forced to avoid and dodge many questions about her boss. Eventually, she deliberately spilt water on Harry’s shirt. When he went to dry it, neither of them was blind to how Cedric looked at him and not five minutes later they had flooed home.

Monday morning arrived too fast and too bright for all the wine Hermione had drunk the night before with her friends. She had been too tired to even think about making a memory for her boss, but when she stepped off the lift on her floor she regretted this at the sight before her.

Exiting Mr Malfoy’s office was none other than Daphne Greengrass in all her splendour.

“I’ll see you next weekend then, Draco?” Her voice even sounded beautiful, just as her straight hair nearly glistened in the morning sun. Hermione patted down her bun a bit extra as she made her way to her desk.

“Yes, fine, owl me the details,” Mr Malfoy called from his office. 

“Wonderful,” Daphne Greengrass called out in a dreamy voice before she left. She smiled graciously at Hermione before she headed for the lift.

Hermione dove into her mental shields to bury all her jealousy of Daphne Greengrass in the deepest part of her brain. She wasn’t jealous because she had no right to be. Her arrangement with Mr Malfoy was… strictly professional. In a way. No attachment between them gave her entitlement to feel anything in the slightest range of jealousy.

There.

She sat straighter as her mind cleared of those feelings and she went about her work day as usual.

Before Mr Malfoy left on Tuesday afternoon he stopped by Hermione’s desk.

“I’ll be out of the office all day tomorrow meeting with new clients and visiting properties in Diagon.” He handed her a small, neatly folded piece of parchment.

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Miss Granger.”

Hermione didn’t say anything as he left the office. She waited until he was gone before she unfolded the parchment to read the three words there.

Wear a skirt.

As instructed, Hermione wore a skirt on Thursday. It was black and while it hugged her hips, it flared around her knees. She briefly noted how her boss eyed her from head to toe when she arrived in the morning, but aside from that, she did her best to stay focused on her job. She even spent her lunch break with a few different co-workers she had yet to talk to. The only reason she did so, was to try and make more friends in the company. On most days, the only people she saw or talked to were Mr. Nott and Mr. Malfoy and whoever came to their offices. While she enjoyed their company quite a bit, she supposed Harry had a point that she was boxing herself into a corner at work. It might be different if Mr Nott would eventually hire his assistant but that had yet to happen. The last time Hermione raised the issue with Mr Nott and Mr Malfoy, the latter quickly shut it down with a firm “No.” before either of them could say much more.

As it was, Hermione found herself more than busy nearly every day with keeping up with both their schedules. While Mr Nott always stated she was Mr Malfoy’s PA, he never shied away from asking for her help as if she was his assistant too.

Just that day, he stopped by when she returned from lunch to drop a stack of papers on her desk.

“Miss Granger, do you suppose you have time to organize these contracts? We’re meeting with several team owners tomorrow and some of the player contracts might need updating in several regards,” he droned on, leaning on the surprisingly big stack of papers. Hermione eyed the papers, reaching for the top one to skim it.

It looked to be a standard contract for a team player to sign when joining any Quidditch team in a certain league. However, the more she read the more she noticed it was off with several things. Dates had been left unchecked, and attention to healing agreements was long overdue as several other things could mean trouble if left unattended.

“Of course, sir, I’ll get right on it. When did you say you needed them?” She drew the stack of papers toward her, already starting a mental list of how to sort through them and find which ones needed the most pressing attention.

“The ones signed to the Whacking Wasps are sorely overdue. I’ll let Mr Malfoy know you’re helping me with this,” Mr Nott clamped a gentle hand around her shoulder, his fingers firm but gentle, before he breezed onwards to Mr Malfoy’s office.

Not long after, she heard their raised voices.

“…cannot find the time to do your work, do not burden MY PA with your incompetence, Theo!” Mr Malfoy’s voice could be heard through the walls, even with the door nearly closed.

“Come off it, mate, she’s much quicker than I am at this paper shit, I don’t see why she can’t-“

“Exactly my point. You. Don’t. See. Theo. I know I didn’t hire you to neglect to use that inflated head of yours but I would appreciate it if you at least took care of what you signed on to do in the first place.”

Hermione felt a chill down her spine from the way Mr Malfoy spoke. It made her feel… things she was not yet ready to put a name to.

“You don’t have to be such a wanker about it.”

“Then don’t give me reasons to be.”

Silence stretched between them for a moment before whatever they said next was too low for Hermione to hear. A couple of minutes later, Mr Nott was beside her desk again. His hair looked rumpled like he had run his hands through it several times over the last couple of minutes. He’d taken his outer jacket off, revealing a wand holster wrapped around his shoulder. That was interesting. He blew out a sigh through his nose.

“Right, so after some discussion,” his nostrils flared at this point, “Draco agrees that you should oversee the contracts for the Whacking Wasps. I’ll deal with the rest,” he spoke hurriedly, clearly annoyed as he waited for her to hand over all the other contracts. After a quick sorting, and more huffing from Mr Nott, he went back to his office, practically slamming the door, and left Hermione with a small dozen of contracts to deal with.

By the time Mr Nott appeared from his office at the end of the afternoon, his hair looked even more torn up. He grumbled a disgruntled goodbye, heading for the lift. Hermione waited the usual amount of minutes before she cleared her desk, taking with her the new contracts to Mr Malfoy’s office.

He stood with his back to the door, sleeves already pulled back, observing the view. Tiptoeing her way over, she placed the contracts on a corner of his desk before she stepped up next to him.

He had his hands behind his back as he inhaled slowly, just watching the late afternoon sun across the buildings in the city.

“The next time Theo approaches you with extra work like that I want you to tell me instantly. Theo needs to learn that he cannot abide by his good looks forever for everyone else to do the job he was hired to do. It is not up to you to make him look good in my eyes.” Mr Malfoy slowly turned to face her, his eyes narrowed and hard.

“You work for me, Miss Granger, remember that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” His voice was solid in the empty office. While holding her gaze, he gestured with one hand and then she heard the door to his office swing closed. Followed by the lock clicking.

“Now that we’ve had that sorted, Miss Granger, once again, if you wish to exit our contract-“

“I don’t,” she hurried to say, biting her lip when he raised a brow at her for interrupting him. “Sir,” she quickly added.

He gave a shallow nod before turning on his heel.

“Very well, please sit,” he said casually. Hermione let go of her lip again. The fact that he had asked her to wear a skirt had made her imagine all sorts of things for today’s lesson. That he merely asked her to take a seat as usual left her spirits a little lower.

“Before we progress with your studies, I’m going to test your mind as usual. Have you practised, Miss Granger?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll know if you haven’t.”

“I have.” Hermione leaned forward a little, waiting for him to set his fingers to her temple. He only ever did this initially. As if he only needed the physical connection to begin with and afterwards, he could find her mind whichever way he wanted.

It had been frightening the first time she realised this. Now it was just thrilling.

Closing her eyes, she let the heat of his fingers guide her as usual. She couldn’t help the inner pride when he found nothing wrong with her mental shields.

When he withdrew, she found herself missing his touch. 

“Good, you’re progressing quite effectively. Better than either of the two people I’ve ever had the misfortune of teaching Occlumency.”

“Who were the other two?” Hermione asked before she could stop herself. Mr Malfoy observed her for a long moment as if debating whether or not to tell her. He leaned back before speaking again.

“Theo was my first student. I have always been a natural Occlumens. During our final year at Hogwarts, he wanted to learn to prepare better for his exams. It only worked half the time for him. Even so, he scored extremely well on his N.E.W.T.s.” His grin was hesitant, as if after that afternoon he was reluctant to compliment his friend.

“That diligence has dwindled since then, unfortunately.”

Hermione waited for him to tell her about the other person. Of course, she wanted to ask but she also didn’t dare. This was a conversation that bordered on something personal. Which they were not.

“As I said, you are far more accomplished, Miss Granger. Even with our,” he paused, lacing his fingers under his chin. “Alternative methods.”

Hermione gulped.

Circe, she hoped he would fuck her today. She needed it so badly. After weeks of him using only his fingers on her, she was more than ready for the next stage in this method of teaching. As if sensing her way of thinking (perhaps he could, given the way, he so easily slithered into her mind weekly), Mr Malfoy rose from his chair to sit in his office chair behind his desk instead.

“Miss Granger,” he said in a tone that needed no explanation. She jumped from her seat, following his beckoning finger until she stood in front of him, his desk at her back. 

“Today we progress. If at any time you wish to stop, you know the words, Miss Granger. If I do not hear you say them, I will carry on as agreed.” He drew his wand from his pocket to place it on his desk. Hermione followed the motion before looking at his face again. She nodded.

“Turn around,” was his next instruction followed by one for her to raise her mental shields. She did just that in time before she felt the gentle prodding of his magic in her head. Then she was startled when she felt his fingers on the outside of her legs.

As a result, Mr Malfoy breached her first line of mental shields. Behind her, he paused his fingers on her legs with a stern “Miss Granger.”

Hermione refocused and doubled her concentration on her mental shields before Mr Malfoy’s fingers continued up her legs. They made a quick path up the back of her thighs before his hands cupped her arse. Hermione gasped when he used his thumb to gently knead her flesh. Another gasp escaped her when he slid a palm between her legs to feel how wet she already was.

“Very good, Miss Granger,” he praised her when she knew he felt how aroused she was. For a second, his hands were gone. His magic kept poking inside her mind, trying to find a weak spot to penetrate. Hermione refocused and doubled her shields again. Her eyelids hurt a little from keeping her eyes shut so tight. 

She knew she didn’t have to keep her eyes closed, Mr Malfoy could enter her mind even so, but it helped her focus.

That all went right out the window when his hands found her hips and he slowly guided her backwards, moving her skirt out of the way. He must have used wandless magic because when something warm and hard prodded her, she realised her knickers were gone.

“Stay focused, Miss Granger,” Mr Malfoy chastised evenly as he lowered her, slowly sliding his cock inside her. 

Hermione could feel the walls inside her mind crumple and shatter with each push and slide of her boss settling inside her. He groaned just once before adjusting them comfortably.

His legs were closed while hers were spread on either side of his knees. Her back was flush to his chest and she noticed how their breathing slowly synchronized to each other. Once Mr Malfoy was satisfied with their seating, he wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her tight, while the other lay calmly on her exposed thigh.

“This is what will happen, Miss Granger,” his voice was low and hoarse just beside her ear. It made her loose curls flutter against her skin, causing gooseflesh to erupt.

“You will sit here and warm my cock while I continue to attempt to penetrate your mind.”

Hermione failed to stifle the moan at this piece of information.

“Once I’ve determined that your shields are strong enough for today, you will get what you so desperately need. Understood, Miss Granger?”

Hermione nodded.

“You need to speak the words, Miss Granger.” His fingers dug into her side, pulling her harder down on his cock. The whimper she let out also made her clench but he showed no sign of being affected by this at all.

“Yes, sir, understood.” Barely managing to get the words out, Hermione once again refocused her concentration on her shields as well as her breathing.

For several long minutes, all she could do was try her best to strengthen her mental barriers and not focus on the delicious stretch of his cock inside her.

Of course, she failed at this multiple times.

Whenever she thought too much about Mr Malfoy’s cock throbbing inside her, he would thrust hard and quickly, causing her to pant and nearly topple over his desk before he grabbed onto her waist and spoke in a demanding tone for her to concentrate.

“Remember, Miss Granger, pleasure is twofold,” he reminded her with a shallow thrust that had her moaning.

“Your next task is to prepare your homework for me to find. Once I do that, we shall see how long you can hold on to it.” 

His hands were back on her hips, holding her firmly in place. Making it nearly impossible for her to move in any way. She couldn’t even shift her hips to gain the tiniest amount of friction which she desperately craved.

Her insides felt like they were burning from the heat of his cock inside her for so long. It had been a while since she lost track of time of how long Mr Malfoy had been inside her. Not that it mattered. What mattered was how good it felt and how much she really, really wanted to shatter around him the way she usually did on his fingers.

But she knew the only way she would get that was to do as he instructed. So she boxed up her memory for the week and hid it from Mr Malfoy.

Almost instantly, she felt his mental search intensify. She always suspected he never gave it his all with her. That he held back somehow. However, she had yet to figure out why aside from the fact that all of this was new to them.

Just then he mentally neared something that could lead him to the memory and she quickly distracted him with older memories of her pleasuring herself. In her bed. In her shower. In her hallway one Thursday after a particularly difficult lesson with him.

His voice rumbled against her spine so much that she felt it between her legs too.

“You’re running out of distractions, Miss Granger.” Mr Malfoy said as he skirted a mental image of her dancing with Luna the other night in a crowded pub. He flickered past it like it meant nothing before he zeroed in on what he was after. 

Hermione felt it the moment he found it. 

It was in the way he shifted beneath her, adjusting the way his cock sat in her core, unable to leave before they were both satisfied. In very different ways, of course.

“Just how long can you keep this particular box open, Miss Granger, if I do this?” With his hands on her hips, he slowly rocked her. Hermione fell forward, no longer able to stop herself from supporting herself on his desk.

“Not long, sir,” she panted feeling her climax approaching faster than expected. 

“Hmmm,” he hummed before holding her still again. “Remember our agreement, Miss Granger?”

“Yes, sir, please, I do. I remember.” She lifted her arse a little, hoping to gain that friction to her front that would send her over the edge any second now.

“Hand over the memory and you shall have it.”

Hermione hurriedly complied, dropping every mental barrier per his instruction. The mental connection between them made everything feel that much more intense. Hermione let out a little shriek right as Mr Malfoy started to fuck her in earnest. She never left his lap, nor did he leave his seat as his thrust grew harder and quicker.

Hermione knew he watched the memory with her, the one where she was on her knees on the floor of her bathroom, with her hands between her legs, biting her lip to keep from crying out his name. Of course, he didn’t know that last part. It didn’t seem to matter.

“Wait for the memory, Miss Granger.” His voice didn’t even sound affected by the way he pounded up into her. Hermione could barely breathe.

Just when they both saw the way her entire body trembled in the memory, her legs trembled. Mr Malfoy thrust one final, hard time, giving her permission.

“Oh, my god!” Hermione shrieked as she came, shattering into thousands of little pieces. Her climax stretched on and on as he held her down on his cock, taking all of her pleasure for his. 

“You are protected, as agreed, Miss Granger?” His voice sounded strained.

“Yes, yes,” she babbled, still feeling the recess of her orgasm.

“Good. Because I am about to complete our lesson for the day.”

“Oh, gods, yes, please,” Hermione breathed, trying futilely to steady her legs.

In the next moment, Hermione felt the tell-tale warmth that meant Mr Malfoy had just come. Inside her. He had made no sound as he did so. The only indication she had had before it happened, was his fingers as they sharpened and dug harder into her hips when he pressed her harder down onto him.

“Good. You did well today, Miss Granger.” To her complete and utter shock, his voice was back to his professional level. She could hardly form a coherent sentence after what they had just done.

He helped her get to her feet. Then she felt the warm trickle down the inside of her thighs.

Before she had time to turn around, he had himself sorted and back in his trousers. He got to his feet, reaching for his wand to direct at her. She felt the cold air as he cast a silent cleaning spell on her.

“As well as you did today, there is room for improvement, Miss Granger. I believe we have a few things to work on before we move on in your lessons.”

“Right, of course.” Hermione briefly wondered where he had vanished her knickers, even as she already started to look forward to next week when she would get to sit on his cock again.

“Until next week, Miss Granger, keep up your practising and seal that memory for me. We will need to make you hold out a little longer than today.” The side of his mouth quirked into a grin for not even a second before he schooled his features back to his usual professional expression.

Hermione found her knickers on the door handle. She just pocketed them before taking the lift down to find a place to Apparate home.

Thankfully, Luna wasn’t home which left Hermione the time and solitude to draw a bath and reminisce about her afternoon. 

For the first time, she thought about what she had gotten herself into.

For how long would she be able to keep this up?

More importantly, how much more would she have to endure to get to feel her boss’ come inside her?

Chapter Text

After her first lesson with Mr Malfoy, while sitting on his lap, Hermione was grateful she didn’t see him with any other witch in the news the following weekend. She was also grateful that Luna was home for the time being to distract her with whimsical nonsense and homemade food. The latter was something she rarely had time for when Luna was away for work.

Luna bustled around the flat like a fairy, cleaning and (dis)organising objects at random. Hermione had tried to keep up with Luna’s mind in the beginning but soon realised it was a lost cause. Instead, she paid little mind to the changes Luna made around the flat. After all, it was her flat too, even if she spent most of her time Merlin knows where else in the world for her job.

“How long do you expect to be gone this time?” Hermione asked while Luna baked. Flour still permeated the air, causing Hermione not to breathe too deeply unless she wanted to sneeze.

“A couple of weeks, I expect. Rolf says we need to hike most of the way so as not to scare the poor animals.”

“Rolf?” Hermione piped up hearing this name for the first time.

“Yes,” Luna’s voice took on an even dreamier lilt. “He’s a new member of our team. We’ve been assigned to work together a couple of times now.”

“How is that going?”

Luna frowned, her nose bunching a little before she twisted her entire face into a dreamy smile.

“Quite well,” she determined before placing her dough in the form to shove in the oven.

“We should invite Harry and Cedric for dinner, I’d love to see them before I have to go again.”

“Sure, sure,” Hermione waved her off, letting her off the hook for now about Rolf. Being friends with Luna wasn’t always easy. It was wildly entertaining and educational in many different areas and Hermione had learned throughout the years that Luna would explain herself when she wanted to. For instance, when Luna decided it was time to lose her virginity she had this over breakfast the morning after she had done so with a shy Gryffindor in the Prefect’s bathroom. Without Hermione prompting the thing. But that was just the way Luna was. She shared information randomly whenever she felt like it. If Hermione pushed her, she would shut her out and not talk for days.

So Hermione went to floo-call Harry to invite him and Cedric over for dinner.

After a couple of months of dating, Harry and Cedric had finally chosen to be exclusive. Harry told Hermione this with a goofy grin on his face one night at the pub before Cedric showed up. Once he made his entrance, Harry all but forgot Hermione was even there. 

Hermione was glad Harry was so happy with Cedric. He deserved to be that happy.

Luna too, frankly.

She didn’t let her thoughts stray too much on how she wasn’t in a hurry to find that kind of happiness for herself as long as Mr Malfoy would continue to teach her. 

It was only Sunday and she hadn’t prepared a memory for him to hunt in her mind for next week yet. While Luna tinkered away in the kitchen, she wondered if she should hop in the shower and take care of business.

However, she was interrupted when Harry stepped out of the floo, yawning.

“I didn’t expect you this early?” Hermione looked at her watch, it was barely four in the afternoon. “Luna says dinner won’t be ready until six at the earliest.”

“’S fine.” He yawned again. “I got bored at home. Cedric got stuck with a bunch of paperwork and I hate flying by myself, so I thought I'd come to have a chat.”

Hermione raised her brows at her best friend. Usually, when he wanted to have a chat it meant something big in his life was on the rise. The first ‘chat’ he had ever wanted to have with her was when he told her he was gay. They’d had a couple more of these chats throughout the years but it had been a long while since their last (during which Harry told Hermione that he had performed his first blowjob and thoroughly enjoyed it but could she give him some pointers?).

Hermione tucked her feet under her bum, patting the sofa for Harry to take a seat. He did so, sitting cross-legged and halfway facing her.

“Luna’s in the kitchen and won’t emerge unless we call her, so what’s up?” Hermione extended her hand to her friend, sometimes it helped the both of them to talk.

“So, um, me and Cedric,” Harry began nervously, his fingers twitching in her hand. Hermione gave him a friendly squeeze, urging him to go on.

“Well, now that we’re serious about, well, us, we’re starting to talk about some, uh, things.”

“What kind of things?” Hermione smirked because she couldn’t help herself.

Harry blushed as he withdrew his hand. This only prompted Hermione to scoot across the sofa to plaster herself to his side. Then she lowered her voice.

“You can talk to me, Harry, you know that? Luna won’t hear a thing.” To emphasise, she pulled her wand from her hair to quickly throw up a Mufliato.

“Right, thanks, and I know… It’s just… I don’t know how to talk about this. I’ve never… Cedric is more….” He blew out an exasperated breath, throwing his head back on the back of the sofa.

“It’s your first serious relationship, Harry, I know. But that should mean you can talk to Cedric about anything, right?”

“It is. And I can. We talk about almost anything. But the more we talk, the more I realise that Cedric is much more… experienced than me.”

Hermione raised a brow. Harry raised both, confirming what she suspected.

“I see. Is that a problem? Is your sex life not what you wanted it to be?”

“Fuck, no… that’s not… Merlin,” Harry heaved a deep sigh. He ran his hands from his hair and down his face, pulling the flesh of his cheeks before firmly closing his eyes.

“Okay, fuck, Hermione I can’t talk about this like you do, sex is…. It’s just…”

“Sex is sex, Harry. You like it with Cedric, right?”

“Gods, yes!”

“Good, then what’s the problem?”

“He wants, no, we want to try… more.”

“Explain more?” Hermione narrowed her eyes, wondering how many details she was about to get about her best friend and his boyfriend. She’d already walked in on quite a few things.

“I’m not sure I can.” Harry closed his eyes in something Hermione recognised as embarrassment. She hated that Harry would probably never be 100% confident with his sexuality due to his family not accepting it. She hated that for him. Hated that the Potters were so rigid in their upbringing that they couldn’t accept that their only son wasn’t going to bring home some respectable witch to marry and have lots of little Potters. She hated that they would never accept that Harry was gay and it was just who he was and what made him the best version of himself. She hated that it still held him back after all these years. She had seen him change for the better through the years the more he accepted himself. Yet, whenever his family extended a hand to reconcile, he withdrew and regressed. She hadn’t known he had seen them recently, but she couldn’t think what else had brought this on. 

Hermione crawled into Harry’s lap to pull him in for a hug. He hugged her back fiercely, burrowing his head in the crook of her shoulder.

“When did you see them?” She whispered.

Harry sagged under her. 

“Wednesday. How can you always tell?”

“Because I know you. Because I love you.” She pulled back to look at him before she spoke again, taking his face in her hands.

“Because you’re my best friend in this entire world and I know you. I know you’re the best possible version of any Harry Potter in the world. Don’t ever let that rotten family of yours make you think otherwise. I keep telling you to tell me so I can come with you. I know it sucks arse but I’ll be your ‘silly girlfriend’ if it’ll make the situation any better. Except we both know it won’t.” She pressed her forehead to his and he sighed.

“I know.”

“Harry, you’re as gay as I’m horny for my boss.” They laughed heartily at this. Then Hermione pressed a kiss to Harry’s mouth, to which he just frowned.

“See? Nothing. Harry, forget about your parents and be happily gay with Cedric. I’ve never seen you as happy as you are with him.”

“Yeah, he is pretty great.”

“He is! And he’s mad about you, too.”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I know so, you daft skrewt.” Hermione tried to suffocate Harry with her boobs, something she knew he hated due to his aversion to them, which meant she did it any chance she got. He wrestled out of her hold, landing them on the floor as a result. Hermione couldn’t stop laughing for a while.

But the sobering look on Harry’s face stopped her. She turned on her side to study him.

“Well, I know you’ve blown each other frequently so that can’t be the issue.” 

Harry blushed but groaned, giving his agreement on that front.

“Can I assume you’ve used your hands effectively as well?”

“Yes. Fuck,” Harry groaned again in frustration, covering his eyes.

“Right, then I can only assume that your next step would be…” she trailed off in favour of pinching Harry’s arse. He yelped, rolling onto his back. Hermione crawled over to rest her chin on his chest.

“Am I right?”
“Yes,” Harry said with his eyes closed.

“Okay. Well, if you both want to then I don’t see the problem as long as you talk to each other about what works and what doesn’t.”

Harry breathed deeply a couple more times before he opened his eyes to look right at her.

“I’m scared, Hermione.”

She could only smile at him.

“I know. But remember how scared you were the first time you blew a wizard? Look how well that turned out?” She tried to laugh it off, but Harry would have none of it. He pushed her off his chest to sit with his back on the sofa.

“Maybe. But what if I don’t like it? I kinda got the idea that Cedric’s a big fan. What if I don’t… I’m scared he’ll break things off because I can’t…”

Hermione hurried to hug her friend again.

“Just tell him all of this. If he cares for you he’ll understand.”

Harry held her tighter a little bit longer and she let him. They talked the rest of the afternoon about Harry’s visit with his family until Hermione was so upset on his behalf that he ended the conversation to steer it back to her arrangement with Mr Malfoy.

By that time, Luna called that dinner was ready just as Cedric stepped out of the floo. Harry and Cedric kissed and Hermione saw some of the worry Harry had jittered with all afternoon fade with that kiss.

Dinner was another entertaining affair and Hermione ended her week in high spirits, ready for another week at work.

With each passing week, working for Mr Malfoy (and occasionally Mr Nott when Mr Malfoy approved it), Hermione learned to tell when to do certain things for her boss. Several months into working at Draconite Inc. she knew that Mr Malfoy would never ask for a coffee when he arrived on Mondays, but he would accept it with a gracious smile even so. She knew he would arrive late almost every Tuesday because he spent the mornings flying a few rounds to the best of his ability. It was part of a new rehabilitation programme he had set up for children whose parents had mixed magical and muggle backgrounds. More specifically it was for those children who’d had a muggle parent abandon them. This was an unspoken problem in the wizarding world but Hermione knew quite a few students from her time at Hogwarts to see that single parenting was not uncommon in the magical world.

It also afforded Mr Malfoy with an opportunity to spend a tiny amount of time each week with the children, who doted on him. The first article in Witch Weekly was completely atrocious in the way it painted Mr Malfoy as some orphan saviour.

Wednesdays and Thursdays also had him meeting earlier than everyone else. Hermione knew to brew a strong pot of tea for him on those days. On Thursday mornings, she also started to gather small bits of information about the nature of her afternoon lessons. Usually, she could gather from his mood how things would go. It lay in the timbre of his voice, too.

He had fucked her in his office once a week since the first time he had her warm his cock. Each time was just as good as the previous and neither of them ever left the lessons disappointed. Far from it. Hermione quickly learned to look forward to the feel of her boss’ warm cock throb inside her that once her lunch break was over on Thursdays, she barely got much work done.

Today was no different. She had a stack of parchment in front of her and a set of new Quidditch contracts to duplicate for a sale that was meant to go through next week along with paperwork for two sponsors to be finalised.

However, all she could think about was how Mr Malfoy would take her in just a few hours.

It was the sound of his voice that stole her from her daydreaming.

“Miss Granger, please clear all my afternoon appointments.” Mr Malfoy strode past her desk, barely stopping with a poignant glance for her as he returned from his lunch appointment.

She immediately summoned his schedule and began to make arrangements, when his voice broke her attention again.

“Once you’ve done that, please come see me in my office,” he said on the threshold to his office. Dipping his chin briefly, he then turned to return to work.

“Yes, Mr Malfoy,” Hermione said to the empty door that remained open for her. She wondered if his request to see her would mirror his request from last week, as she bit her lip with several memories invading her mind.

She shifted in her seat, clenching her thighs as she worked ardently and extremely professionally to clear Mr Malfoy’s schedule for the rest of the day. It hardly took her more than 20 minutes as it was already half empty of appointments per usual. She was just about to rise from her chair when Mr Nott darted from his office, papers flying around him, to talk to Mr Malfoy. Hermione inhaled deeply, trying to calm her frantic heart. She supposed it was a good thing. It gave her the next couple of minutes to sort through some papers and organise the ones she had been preparing to take to him to sign after lunch anyway. The few she had found the focus to get done, of course.

She could hear the voices of Mr Malfoy and Mr Nott as they argued about something - again. Hermione tried not to pay too much attention. She only hoped it wouldn’t upset Mr Malfoy too much for her lesson.

Once she had gathered her courage, she held the stack of papers tight to her chest before knocking on the doorframe. Mr Nott looked up from his position and a smile took up his otherwise pinched expression.

“Ah, Miss Granger, just the person we need, please, come in.” 

Mr Malfoy cleared his throat, observing Mr Nott with dark eyes. Mr Nott sighed in exasperation.

“What now? I’m not allowed to ask her to help both of us?” 

Mr Malfoy blinked twice before turning his gaze on Hermione.

“Please come in, Miss Granger,” his deep voice reverberated across the room, making her legs shake. Not with fear though. No, it was something else entirely.

“You asked to see me, Mr Malfoy? Anything I can help with?” 

“Yes, it would seem Theo here has overestimated himself. Again.” He cut his eyes at Mr Nott. Hermione pinched her lips to keep from laughing at the two wizards. They quarrelled like an old married couple but she knew they were close friends. Mr Malfoy would never have hired Mr Nott if he wasn’t good at his job despite his faults.

“I’m required to travel to New York in the coming month. Theo had planned to come along, however, with recent developments…” At this point, he glared at Mr Nott, who just shrugged and gave up sorting through the stack of parchment he had been looking through.

“I fucked up, there I said it. I’ll hang back and take care of things while you galivant down Times Square. You happy now?” Mr Nott crossed his arms and glared right back at Mr Malfoy.

“Yes, that ought to settle things.” Mr Malfoy rose from his seat. He then stepped around Mr Nott to halt with his back to the room and his attention on the view by the large windows. He clasped his hands behind his back.

“You should go home, Theo. Take the day to prepare for all the hassle you’ll most likely face next week. I have scheduling and many other things to discuss and sort out with Miss Granger for my upcoming trip.” 

Mr Nott gathered his things with a strong huff ignored by Mr Malfoy.

“Good luck with him today,” he mumbled as he passed by Hermione.

Hermione waited in the doorway, observing Mr Malfoy by the grand windows. The building wasn’t much taller than most in London, but the view always struck her. Just then the afternoon sun shone vividly, casting shadows around Mr Malfoy as he stood there. It shone across his hair, which was combed nicely as always. She bit her lip at the brazen thought of wanting to run her hands through it while he was inside her. 

There was never much affection in the way they shagged. She never complained because the sex was truly excellent. But once in a while, she caught herself thinking of different things. Different ways to touch or be touched.

The view of her boss undoing his cufflinks to roll up his sleeve as casually as any man did several things to Hermione. She licked her lips in anticipation.

“Close the door, please, Miss Granger.”

Hermione did so before approaching his desk to lay out the documents. As she did so, she felt the small rush of magic when Mr Malfoy locked and secured his office from any intruders per their usual lessons. Glancing at the clock she saw that it was two hours before their usual time.

Her thighs clenched at the slight touch of his magic.

“You need to sign these documents before the end of the day, Mr Malfoy.” Hermione offered, stepping aside to let him view the three lines she had marked for him to sign. He approached slowly, still fastening the last of his sleeves.

“Very well.”

With just two feet between them, he held out his hand, one brow arched. Hermione plucked a quill immediately, handing it to him. In the next moments, the only sound in the office was the light scratch of his quill. Then he rose to his full height and faced her again.

“I’ll bring you up to date on New York later.”

“That’s fine, sir.”

“Good.”

He locked his eyes on her and she froze on the spot. She knew that gaze, had felt it many times right before he entered her mind. She bit her bottom lip, waiting for the touch of his magic but then he broke his gaze and turned slightly from her.

“Now, Miss Granger, the lesson I assigned you from our last meeting, how are you coming along?”

Hermione gulped. She ran her damp palms down the sides of her hips, flattening her skirt.

“Quite,” she paused before looking him in the eyes. “Quite well, sir.”

“Hmm,” he hummed before turning back to face her. His eyes narrowed as he stepped into her space. His scent washed over Hermione, forcing her to close her eyes to take it in. Then she felt his fingers gently grasp her chin. Slowly, he tilted her head side to side to look at her.

“You do better than to lie to me, Miss Granger, you know I always find the truth.” His words slithered across her skin while she felt the light prod against her mind. 

Her shields were up before she had time to even think about it.

“Very good,” he praised her and his eyes glinted. Then he stepped back.

She continued to feel the gentle prod of his magic against her temples, yet nothing went further than that. Not yet. 

His mouth twitched for barely a second. He was testing her before he went any further. She knew this. He didn’t do it every week, but once in a while, he would test her abilities before he tried to break them down for her to rebuild stronger.

“I must admit, I’m impressed, Miss Granger. Few people have the capacity or ease for Occlumency the way you have shown.”

“Thank you, sir.” Hermione’s voice sounded breathy again and she hid her nerves by holding her hands behind her back.

Of course, in doing so, she indirectly invited her boss to walk around the room before he wound up behind her.

“No need to thank me, Miss Granger, I think we can agree that we both benefit from our arrangement.” The heat of him struck her back without warning when he stepped into her space, palming her upper arms and holding her in place against his chest. It was a strong grasp yet still gentle on her. She couldn’t stop herself from leaning into it, from leaning into him.

“Now tell me, have you been a good girl?” His lips ghosted the shell of her ear as a strand of magic made her hair slide behind her shoulder, giving him access to her neck. He inhaled deeply and Hermione felt the warmth of his breath on her skin. It made her pant with anticipation, heaving air into her lungs. She was certain she would need it quite soon.

“Yes,” she managed to get out. She hadn’t had time to move her hands and had them locked between her back and his front. With a bit of effort, she just managed to open one hand to feel the soft fabric of his clothing. He moved swiftly, capturing one hand to lace his fingers with before tucking it around and just above her abdomen. Mr Malfoy pressed himself closer to her back and she felt all of him.

“Show me,” he demanded before he prodded her mind again. Hermione arched her back into him and focused on closing her mind to the memory she had prepared for him that week. She knew he would look for it, he always did. But if he found it too fast her lesson would be over.

With every old memory she showed him, she felt him grow harder against her backside and herself grow wetter the harder he pressed against her. His free hand came up to her collar. A brush of his wandless magic unbuttoned the few buttons on her blouse to expose her chest. She had purposely forgone a bra that day for her lesson. Mr Malfoy skittered through a memory of her in the shower from weeks ago as his hand slowly slid the side of her blouse away, exposing her naked breast to the cold air. Hermione gasped when his mouth danced along her shoulder with the next memory and he lightly bit down.

“That’s enough. You’ve proven to be a determined student, Miss Granger. Your prerequisites never lied. Although,” his deep chuckle made her shiver down to her toes. “I doubt these were topics you had in mind to study as my employee.”

“No, sir. It was not. But I asked for these lessons.”

“So you did.” His hand slid up to cup her breast and Hermione hissed in a breath. She had to close her eyes to focus when his magic invaded her mind again.

“And you’re doing very well, Miss Granger.”

Hermione shook when he stuck his tongue out to lick a path from the crook of her shoulder and up to suck the lobe of her ear into his mouth. Her fingers clutched his hand while her free hand just fisted around thin air. She needed to touch him. She wanted to touch him. He had never let her do so in this way before. But then again, he had never touched her in the way he was doing at the moment either. Perhaps today would be different?

Using her free hand, she slid it between their bodies, exploring.

They both twitched and let out little moans when her fingers grazed the hardness he couldn’t hide.

With a swipe of his hand down the side of her hip, she felt another string of magic trail across her body before she felt cold between her legs. 

Hermione knew many things about Mr Malfoy. About his work and certain preferences in his daily routines. However, there was one area where he always surprised and amazed her. His control of wandless magic made her wanton and jealous.

“Shall we see if you are finally strong enough for the desk today?” His voice sounded gravelly next to her ear. Hermione nearly whimpered before she caught herself. Instead, she just nodded. Mr Malfoy let go of her breast to indicate where he wanted her with his desk.

She stood in the space between his chair and the desk when he stepped up next to her.

“You know the rules, Miss Granger.” His voice was low and seductive, it almost sounded the way it did when he wanted to seal a big business deal. Only this voice was layered in lust.

She nodded.

“I still have your signature. If, at any time, you wish to withdraw it, you need only say the word. If that is not the case,” he stood silently beside her, the heat of his body enveloping her, wrapping around her senses.

She closed her eyes.

“Please, sir.”

“Very well, prepare your shields.”

She closed her eyes and did just that only seconds before she felt him in her head again. He went faster this time. He sped right past every other memory she laid out for him, never taking the bait.

Without a word or any other sign of warning, his hands were on her hips.

“Might I suggest we remove this for the day, Miss Granger?” His fingers closed around the fabric of her skirt.

“Are you… are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t sure, Miss Granger. May I?” She felt his fingers linger on the zipper. Hermione nodded. Even with her eyes closed, she felt the burn of his gaze with every inch the fabric slid down her hips, then thighs until it pooled on the floor.

His palms were warm as he ran them across her hips to cup her arse. One palm slid between her legs and she keened at the touch, knowing he would find how wet she was.

“If our lessons keep you from performing your tasks perhaps we need to make other arrangements.” He withdrew his hand and Hermione bit down on her bottom lip to keep from hissing. She cursed inwardly because, of course, he would notice that her mind wandered on Thursdays. 

“I can do better, sir, I promise.”

He hummed in appreciation. It was clear that his mood would turn this lesson into a very different experience. She still wasn’t sure if she should be pleased or ask to be excused. The logical side of her told her to do the latter. The rest of her body yearned for the former.

“Good, let’s proceed then, shall we?”

The last word barely left his lips before she felt the tingling pressure on her temples again. Her body sagged in relief when the feeling of him overpowered her and her magical core.

“I want you to open to me today, Miss Granger.”

“Yes,” she breathed, lowering all her shields, exposing herself completely, body and soul. 

“Up until today, we’ve worked on your shields for you to keep others out. Today I want to show you the benefits of letting others in.” His words caressed her and made her shiver with desire. 

Still, he didn’t touch her.

Not yet.

He waited until he wrapped his magic around her magical core. Hermione felt the violent stretch of magic inside and outside her body. She was thankful he gave her a minute to adjust to the powerful sensation of being wrapped in another person’s magic. Hermione had heard about this before, and after reading about it she naturally researched it. But she had never heard of any living witches or wizards able to do it like Mr Malfoy was doing to her just then.

Once he seemed pleased with the way his magic danced around her magical core, he stepped into her, placing his hands on her hips from behind.

“Hands on the table.” She didn’t hear his voice, yet she felt the words vibrate through her body. His hands never left her hips as she bent forward and found her centre. With the shift of her body, she moved her feet, widening her stance for what she knew was about to come. What she had fantasised about for so long.

One hand left her hip, then came the sound of his zipper, yet she never looked back. He hadn’t told her to.

“Let’s see how good a girl you’ve been, Miss Granger.” Mr Malfoy’s voice slithered in her mind for half a second. Another touch of wandless magic bared her to him completely. Then she felt him between her legs. The heat of him zinged her core right before he notched himself and with a heavy groan sheathed himself to the hilt.

Hermione pushed forward, shifting nearly every item on his desk, some of which were knocked to the floor, as she took every inch of his thick hard cock.

Mr Malfoy held himself inside her, letting her adjust to the long and delicious stretch of him. It always surprised Hermione how much bigger he was compared to any wizard she had ever been with. He felt far better than anyone too. The fact that he gave her a minute to adjust told her enough of what kind of man he was. 

Once that minute passed, however, it was another matter.

The fucking was rough and hard, just the way she sometimes pretended she didn’t like it. Mr Malfoy had seen right through that during some of their early lessons. She had yet to understand why he felt the need for them to work their way up to this, the thing he had seen in her mind that first day, instead of not just taking her as soon as possible.

But with each heavy thrust of his cock inside her, she felt the warmth of his magic surround her and she started to understand. He held her tight, body and soul, and fucked her within an inch of her life. This way it became more than just a random fuck on his desk. With her lessons, Mr Malfoy showed her how good it could be. 

She didn’t dare think if it was because he wanted to prove just how good it could be with him.

The front of her thighs slammed into his desk with every push and grind of his cock inside her core. For the first time in her life, a wizard was able to hit parts of her that no other wizard had ever touched.

She had already been on edge all day from thinking about this. It didn’t take long before her first orgasm tore through her and she trembled so much her arms couldn’t hold her weight much longer.

“That was one, Miss Granger.” Mr Malfoy paused behind her, holding her arse flushed with his hips. “You’ve made it to more on previous occasions. Will you be a good girl again today?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

“Good.”

Then he picked up the pace and left bruises all over her backside with his fingers as he pounded into her.

“Hold on to me, like I told you.”

Hermione used every ounce of strength she had to clench around his cock, trying to hold onto his magic. His cock was slippery inside her, but she clenched and felt him react to it.

His magic was different and kept slipping through her mental grasp.

“Try harder!”

He buried himself as deep as he could and rocked his hips slowly, keeping her just on the edge while she grappled for his magical signature.

Mr Malfoy didn’t let her come until she had a grasp on it and the second she did, pleasure dripped through her body.

“Hold on to it!”

She tried her best but it was distracting with him wringing so much pleasure from her. As in her previous lessons, her second orgasm spiralled straight into a third and she let out small whimpers.

“You can do better than this, Miss Granger. Come on, now.” His voice had grown harder. She could hear him working for his breath too, yet his pace never faltered unless he wanted her to work for it.

“Yes, sir,” Hermione gasped as she struggled through her third orgasm, mentally grasping for his magical signature that enveloped her mind.

She imagined tendrils of her magic wrapping around his, sending her magic into every corner of her mind. She knew when she got a hold of something from the way Mr Malfoy would reward her with a firm squeeze of her arse.

“Very good, keep going, Miss Granger.”

She struggled to concentrate on the magic in her mind and the heated sensation of his cock continuing to stroke her insides. Every time he was almost out of her, she reached magically right before he slammed back in. 

Soon, she had a handful of Mr Malfoy’s magical tendrils held within her own.

“I can’t…. any more…” she gasped, trying to drag them back to her centre.

“Hold on to them.”

The order made her clench around him and he groaned because of it.

“That’s it, good girl, Miss Granger.” His thrust grew into a steady and hard rhythm. His hands never left her body.

“When I give the word, you let go and allow me full control. Just as I instructed you last week.”

“Yes, sir.” Hermione used everything she had left to hold onto his desk and mentally grasp his magic.

Mr Malfoy seemed to slow his thrusts, enjoying the feel of her heat around him for moments that dragged on as the head of his cock breached her entrance over and over again.

“Miss Granger?” His voice was low, barely a whisper. Hermione nodded.

“Now!”

Mr Malfoy slammed into her to the hilt, his mental scream mirroring hers as they both skyrocketed into a joint orgasm that felt like leaving Earth. 

Magic wove around them, entwining their minds and coupling the ecstatic feelings coursing through their bodies. 

Hermione felt sure she left her body. Pleasure seemed unending around her, inside her.

Mr Malfoy held himself tightly inside and against her. 

Neither seemed aware of where one began and the other ended.

Several moments lapsed before Hermione could even open her eyes, let alone feel any limb of her body.

With a deep hiss, Mr Malfoy slid from inside her, his wet spend dripping onto the floor. He cleared his throat and cast a cleaning charm on them before tucking himself back inside his trousers.

“Excellent work today, Miss Granger.” Handing over her knickers, he smiled at her in the way that always made her weak in the knees and slick in her core. 

“Th-thank you, sir.” She hurried to slip on her knickers before retrieving her skirt from the floor too. Wobbling on her heels as she dressed, she watched Mr Malfoy write something and stuff it into an envelope. She was still fastening her skirt when he held out the envelope.

“This needs to go to the Ministry before the end of the day as I will need to change my Portkeys for New York.”

“Of course, sir,” Hermione accepted the small envelope. Mr Malfoy closed his fingers around her hand. 

“I apologise if today’s lesson was not what you expected, Miss Granger.” He looked down at her, at which point she realised her breast was still bare. His lips parted before he spoke again.

“I have several things to go over before New York but since we finished this lesson rather quickly, I can move some things to our usual time later today?”

Hermione opened her mouth in surprise. This was a new turn of events one she hadn’t expected for miles to come.

“I- yes, sir. I would appreciate it. Thank you.”

He dropped her hand, nodding.

“Very well.”

Hermione made to step out of his office when he cleared his throat, pausing her before she could open the door.

“Miss Granger? Am I right to assume you’ve never been to New York before?”

“Yes, you are.”

“I see. Well, with Theo’s blunder, I’ll need your help for when I  leave next month.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You are my PA, are you not?” He arched a brow at her.

“Yes, of course, sir. I’ll… yes. How should I… I mean, what will I need to pack?”

His gaze raked up from her toes to her eyes.

“Be sure to pack for business,” he paused, his gaze drifting to her mouth where it lingered.

“And pleasure.”

Chapter Text

Hermione had never felt so awkward in a lift before. Perhaps for the first time in her life, she regretted her planning skills for her job. If she hadn’t arranged for Mr Malfoy to have dinner outside of the hotel restaurant each night during their stay, she wouldn’t feel this tense. Upon his request, she had booked tables at a new restaurant each night, in places that were still upscale but more casual than the hotel restaurant, which boasted fine dining best suited for formal robes. Hermione had been too exhausted after their first day in New York from meeting so many new people and keeping on top of everything as Mr Malfoy’s PA, to do much else than pass out in her room at the end of the day, after a small salad she ate while soaking in the tub.

However, on their second evening in New York, Mr Malfoy asked her to join him for dinner as he did not care to dine alone. 

Hermione had stuttered her way through a weak explanation that she had not wanted to assume anything, which he had, of course, shut down immediately. The dinner that followed was very nice and their conversation had been liberal and just on the edge of casual towards professional.

Hermione still found it strange to be around Mr Malfoy outside of business hours and now they were returning to their rooms. Separate rooms but on the same floor.

The elderly couple in the lift chatted animatedly about their day in the city while Hermione found herself closer than strictly necessary to Mr Malfoy. She felt him shift behind her with each level the lift went by. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she felt a hand barely touch the lower of her back, skirting dangerously close to her bum.

Mr Malfoy ducked his head at her.

“Are you too tired or may I ask you to go over some documents with me before we retire for the night?” His tone was low and husky. When she felt his thumb ghost along her hip she felt a shimmer of… something Perhaps these documents were not as important as he made them sound. Before she had the time to answer, the lift opened and the elderly couple exited only for four other people to enter. This meant Hermione had to move to stand in front of Draco. His hands landed on her hips lightly, in a way to everyone else to hold her steady. But as he pressed his fingers into her hips, he leaned closer and she felt him against her backside. Swallowing her small hiss, she just nodded. Anticipation mingled with her arousal as the lift reached their floor. 

The short walk from the lift to his room was a blur. Hermione heard him close and warded the door before she turned to face him.

He was busy discarding his cufflinks with his eyes still on her. Without a word, he removed his vest, leaving his white shirt loose around his torso.

“Miss Hermione,” he shook his head in disbelief at his small mistake in addressing her.

It was only a couple of hours ago during dinner they had agreed to lose the formalities outside of their professional arrangements for the trip. The first time she said his name, the hair on her arms raised. However, that was nothing compared to the look he gave her when she spoke his name.

“That will take some getting used to, I admit.” He stepped closer, sliding one warm hand up the side of her neck to land in the hair at her nape.

“Will we need to update our contract for this trip?” His fingers trailed down again to rest just above her collarbone, any made-up documents already forgotten.

“No.” Hermione licked her lips. Draco looked confused momentarily, though he didn’t remove his hand from her exposed collarbone. Hermione inhaled deeply, letting her chest almost touch his in the process before she stepped into him, placing her hands on his chest. She was forced to pause to appreciate the solid muscles under her palms.

“Seeing as I am just Hermione and you are just Draco, we don’t need the contract between Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy. Tonight would just be-”

“Just be what, Hermione?” Draco asked as his thumb slowly slid up the side of her neck to land below her ear where he pressed it slightly. Her eyes fluttered at the motion. She could already feel her knickers going slick. In truth, they had been well on their way there since before they left for dinner. Hell, if she had to be honest, she had been partially wet for her boss since he righted her after they landed from their Portkey the previous morning.

“Just us,” she shrugged, tilting her head to look at him. His expression was unreadable and after a moment she recognised the signs of his Occlumency. She allowed her palms to inch towards the buttons, easing one from its hold as she kept his gaze.

“I only ask that you don’t use Occlumency to shield yourself. You’ve seen my deepest desires. Perhaps it is time we reverse it.” It wasn’t long before she could push the garment from his shoulders. After a long minute of Draco staring at her, she saw his eyes clear and his nostrils flare briefly.

“Quite.” His hands found the zipper on her back and the next moment she was in her bra and knickers before him. The warm sensation of his hands across her shoulder blades made her hunch into him, pressing her breasts together with a small moan.

“What do you want from me, Draco?” Hermione asked, knowing she was prepared to give him just about anything at that moment if he just asked.

Time seemed to freeze between them as he stared at her. His fingers danced along her skin, making her shiver. She knew this would be a line for them to cross and she worried he wouldn’t want to. She knew they had stated in their contract that neither was obligated to the other in any way. It would be this way when they returned to London. But why should that keep them from enjoying each other’s company for the duration of this trip?

Hermione was a grown woman. Mr Mal- Draco was a grown man. They could choose to spend the night together and continue their working relationship in the morning. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already fucked her senseless in his office. On his desk.

She was about to make this point to him, when, without hesitation, he crushed his mouth to hers. Hermione responded in kind. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders she jumped to clamp her legs around his hips. He caught her easily, his fingers digging into her backside as he carried her to his bed. She briefly caught that it was slightly bigger than her bed but none of that mattered when Draco slid his tongue into her mouth and snogged her into his mattress. Hermione clung to him, grasping for any part of him to get him closer.

Merlin, she had been mildly aroused by him all day long, watching him conduct his meetings and everything else with such competent professionalism. The timbre of his voice in every meeting with potential business partners forced her to clench her thighs on more than one occasion. Talking about Quidditch or anything related to the sport for most of the day ought to bore her, but when Draco discussed possible ventures for new shops she couldn’t stop herself from paying attention to just the sound of his voice.

The professional relationship between her and Draco never faltered under what else she might think about. Every business meeting she attended with him, she was the utmost professional and best PA she could possibly be. Mr Malfoy was also strictly professional around her. The only slip that no one ever noticed was the way he guided her with a hand to the small of her back where his fingers sometimes ghosted just above the curve of her arse. Neither of them acknowledged this, however, and so business meetings and introductions to new Quidditch suppliers were handled and carried out as usual.

Today, however, Hermione felt a shift in Mr Malfoy when they returned to their hotel before he asked her to dine with him. And now he was kissing a trail down between her breasts, working the cups down one at a time. Slowly.

She arched her back into him when he reverently took one nipple into his mouth and sucked. The sensation had her aching for more so she nearly whined when he withdrew to hover over her.

“How are your shields tonight?”

She had to blink several times to appear less than flustered. Her bra sat askew and under her breasts while her knickers stuck to her skin. Meanwhile, Draco still looked far too polished with his black trousers on and nothing else.

“M-my shields? But I thought-“

“If they aren’t already, I want you to lower them for me. Let me in?”

Hermione felt the heat of his gaze as he kept his eyes on hers. There was no wavering towards her breast. His attention was entirely on her face with a level of earnestness she hadn’t seen with him before. She cupped his jaw with one hand.

“They’re down.”

His gaze refocused and then she felt it. The touch of his magic against her head. Usually, she fought determinedly to keep him out or divert him. Tonight she easily let him slip past any potential obstacles in her mind.

The slide of his magic inside her mind was intoxicating and she couldn’t help the gasp that slipped from her lips.

While keeping their eyes locked, Draco climbed off her to remove the rest of his clothes. Hermione bit her lip as he threw it to the floor, revealing the rest of his lean body to her. She had only ever seen glimpses of him, never all of him like this. It made her mouth water. She broke his stare to look her fill of him.

Even if he no longer played Quidditch, he was built like an athlete. Tall and lean but packed with just enough muscles in all the right places for Hermione to know how safe she would feel under his weight. Something dark shone from his side, from just below his armpit and down to his waist. A tattoo, she realised as he moved back to the bed and her. But she wasn’t given enough time to look at it or the rest of him before he was back on top of her, kissing her.

With their mouths occupied, his hands slid to her centre.

“How much value do these have?” He tugged gently on her knickers, taking her bottom lip between his teeth.

“None specifically, why do you-“ She cut herself off with a little shriek when Draco tore the tiny scrap of fabric in two and off her. He turned back to look at her.

“Just like we’ve done before, only better,” he affirmed before sliding two fingers down her centre. Hermione moaned, throwing her head back into his pillows. How could they smell like him after just one night in this hotel?

She felt her leg being raised as he guided her to her side all the while the touch of his magic remained firm inside her mind.

‘Relax your muscles and let me hold you.’

Hermione nodded into the pillow and tried to do just that.

“I’ve questioned my choice to bring you to New York since we arrived,” he spoke evenly as he placed her ankle over his shoulder, climbing closer on his knees.

“I’m sorry if I haven’t-“

“It’s not you, Hermione,” he said with a grin, slightly shaking his head. Hermione couldn’t stop how her body reacted to him saying her name like that. For such a long time she had been Miss Granger to him. Hearing him use her name felt much more intimate. The heat of his body crept closer to her skin until he was flush against her exposed centre as he held her open. Her free leg was between his as he knelt halfway over her body, the other leg caught on his shoulder. He slid his hands down her thighs letting one hand cup her bum while the other tracked up her stomach as she adjusted to being on her side this way.

“Forgive me, I should amend that. It is you, in part, but only because your presence distracts me more than I should admit to,” he said as he adjusted his stance on his knees. Hermione’s breath hitched when he ran the heated head of his length along her seam.

“In a way, it’s good you are here to double-check everything. In other ways, I feel we would not need to double-check everything if you weren’t here to divert my attention every time I look at you.” 

His magic spooled into her mind, swirling around her magical strings as he notched the head of his cock to her centre and slowly pushed inside her.

‘When this is most of what occupies my mind throughout the day.’

The words shook inside her mind with such force she could barely hold onto herself when he sheathed himself fully. His thrust was deep and hard, unrelenting as he pushed their bodies together and her bum rested on his hip in this position.

Before her lessons with Mr Malfoy, Hermione had been convinced she had explored enough of her sexuality to test positions and much else to find out what she liked. However, with Mr Malfoy, she was discovering new ways to gain pleasure and that was just as easily without the use of Occlumency. There had been times in the office when he would simply fuck her before they even started on her lessons. Other times he would carry out her lessons with his hands and then fuck her on his desk afterwards.

Either way, Hermione never said a word against it because she wanted him inside her whenever she could. 

The hard grind of his cock inside her had her eyes rolling to the back of her head. She could only grasp it as best as possible for Draco’s magic as it coiled inside her head.

‘You’re much better than this, Hermione.’

She nodded, biting her lip, still fighting to hold on to his magic. He stopped moving inside her. He held himself buried deep in her core, his hands roaming across the skin on her thighs, her back and her front to rest a palm between her breasts.

‘I’ll give you one moment more before we carry on.’

Hermione struggled mentally to keep her shields down and to entwine her magic with his. It kept slipping from her grasp. 

Suddenly she had an idea and she clenched her inner walls around Draco, revelling in the hiss he let out just as Hermione momentarily had the upper hand to coil her magic around his.

“You’re a quick student,” Draco groaned as he began to move again. Hermione felt the change between them instantly as their magic wove together with every thrust inside her.

“Show me,” he demanded with a particularly delicious grinding thrust that had Hermione moaning. Her leg arched so her heel was behind his ear. This was a position she had never tried before and it was magnificent.  He hit so many new places inside her that it was much more difficult to keep her hold on his magic.

She dragged him through her mind to one of the last times he had taken her on his desk back in London. She had been on her back, skirt pushed around her hips while her ankles were locked around his arse. 

It only took a second for Draco to lock into the memory. Within another moment he had changed his pounding rhythm to match that from the memory.

“How many do you have in you tonight, Miss… Hermione,” he corrected himself with a smirk when he and the Draco inside her head paused for breath.

“Are you, oh mmm, going to count for me?” Hermione asked, turning her neck to look at her boss better. Except he wasn’t her boss that night. At that moment, he was just Draco. The wizard who gave her the best sexual experiences of her life.

He grinned back at her before picking up speed.

‘Count with me.’

Sweat coated their bodies hours later when Hermione felt her voice give out from pure pleasure.

“I can’t…. not again…. Draco….”

“Just one more, the last one, I promise, you’ve done so well, Hermione.” Draco soothed his hands across her body. She was utterly spent after so much sex she was sure she would break in half if he made her come again.

But he was Draco Malfoy and she knew better than to doubt his determination in any regard.

‘Good girl.’ His voice purred inside her head when she nodded.

She was on her stomach at this point, his weight a solid blanket on her back. His hips pressed into her backside, his cock sliding perfectly into her again and again. He arched her back slightly for her, she was utterly pliant for him at this point from so much pleasure.

His chest fell onto her back and then she felt his hot breath behind her ear at the same time as his magic closed around her tendrils of magic.

“You are still protected, Hermione?”

Hermione nodded into the mattress to keep herself from begging him to finish inside her. He didn’t do it every time they fucked, but when he did, something inside her clicked with his magic and it sent her right over the edge again no matter how many times he had already made her come. 

She had taken her Contraception potion for the week before departing for New York and would do the Contraception Charm later as well, just to be safe.

Draco slowly bent her right knee up to her chest before picking up speed a little again.

Hermione could only moan as he mentally climbed towards the joint climax from their shared memory.

‘Ready?’

“Yes.”

Draco paused for a breath before he sent them both into a shattering release that had Hermione crying into the pillow and her boss panting into her neck, his body weighing her down. He seemed to realize this as he came back from their joined orgasm. Taking care not to bruise any important parts, he withdrew from her core. Hermione already missed the feel of him and she couldn’t contain her tiny whimper. He must’ve heard because he fell to his side next to her, placing a kiss on her shoulder before dropping his head to the pillow.

Hermione turned to look at her boss, shining with perspiration and post-coital bliss. She wanted to reach out and trace her finger across his pectorals and his abdominal muscles. But she knew that would be another line crossed, so she held back. Instead, she attempted to get out of his bed. Except her muscles wouldn’t listen after six extreme orgasms.

“I should…” she tried and was met with an exhausted, but quite satisfied grin from Draco. He moved to make room for her before he helped her lie back better. Brushing a curl from her face, he leaned down to kiss her. 

The kiss was soft and warm, unlike any other things they had done before. His kisses earlier that night had been frantic and rushed. A result of two days of pent-up lust for each other. He never kissed her before. Tonight was the first time and this was a first too.

“Sleep, Hermione. We have another long day tomorrow.” 

Wandless magic, she realised, then raised the covers over their bodies. He kissed her brow and fell back to close his eyes too. 

Hermione wanted to leave in favour of her hotel room. She knew it was the best solution. If she slept in the same bed as her boss after the fucking they just did, she knew it was another line crossed and things would perhaps be strange the next day.

Yet, she couldn’t get herself to move. Not to mention the fact that her body was completely drained of energy.

Knowing it was a bad idea, she still curled up next to her boss and easily drifted off to sleep. 

The next morning, Draco rolled out of bed, starkers, and headed for the shower. Hermione called out she meant to do the same. She picked out her clothes from around the floor before she hurried to her room next door minus a pair of knickers.

The day that followed and for the rest of the week even, they were back to Mr Malfoy and Miss Hermione in every professional matter. They met with sponsors for new teams, discussed minor tournament arrangements, and entertained people with big pockets to get them to pay for children’s Quidditch training. They even visited a new branch of a Quidditch supply shop that was meant to branch out to the rest of America within the coming year according to Draco’s plans.

Once the professional part of the day was over, they returned to the hotel and dressed for dinner as Hermione and Draco. Hermione was aware that alarm bells went off in her head, but she ignored them. She could deal with them later.

After that first night, she spent in his bed, she wound up staying a second night too. After that, Draco cancelled her room and moved her luggage to his room. He said he wanted to fuck her in the morning in the showers too, it would help clear his head for the many meetings they had to deal with. Hermione didn’t mind one bit. Least of all when he kissed her between her shoulder blades or her breasts as he came inside her, depending on the preference of the day. 

Without the burden of their professional relationship hanging over them, their trip to New York turned into something completely different.

By the end of the day, they were just Draco and Hermione. Two people enjoying each other’s company in a city that never sleeps. They went out for upscale dinners followed by cocktails and even went dancing one night. Hermione luxuriated in the attention from Draco and the way he couldn’t keep away from her for too long. 

They slept in the same bed each night and gradually, they moved closer to one another until she was snuggled in his arms for almost the entire night. His desire to fuck her in the shower in the morning turned into pleasurable morning shags with slow kisses.

Once they returned to the hotel in the evenings, things between them turned primal and driven by lust. Hermione relinquished any sort of control she had to Draco. She trusted him completely at that time. Not only with her body, which he had taken great care to study and draw pleasure from countless times. 

It was more than that.

She trusted him inherently and felt a shimmer of him returning the sentiment. 

He kissed her often, more so than before. Some evenings it was like he couldn’t keep his lips away from hers. Hermione felt a shift between them, but as much as she trusted him, she was a coward to mention anything.

Instead, she kept her professional front for the day only to shed it along with her clothes in Draco’s bed once the sun set.

On the days Draco’s meetings went well, he took his time with her and she fell limp into his bed from the many positions and ways he made her cry out in pleasure. On the days he was stuck in pointless meetings he would take her rough and hard against the first available surface once they returned to the hotel.

Hermione welcomed both for their differences. 

On the day before the last of the trip she rummaged through her luggage, frowning.

“Can you possibly manage the 9 o’clock meeting without me?” She called out to Draco in the shower. The water was turned off and she looked up to see him step back into the room, a towel drying his hair but otherwise completely naked. 

Hermione was a simple witch in some regards and if she blatantly ogled her boss at that moment he didn’t show any signs to mind. Rather, he seemed satisfied to have her stare at him. So Hermione did.

She looked at his defined chest and the slender expanse of his shoulders, down his abdomen before zeroing in on the tattoo under his arm she had studied in the late hours of the night. It was a Golden Snitch glittering on his skin and Hermione had tried her best not to trace its golden wings when he fell asleep before she did.

Her gaze dropped further to take in the length of him which was impressive even when he wasn’t hard for her. His entire body shone with water droplets and it did nothing to diminish her want for him when she saw his cock twitch because she continued to ogle him. 

“I could but what is the obstacle?” He looked utterly unaffected by her staring, so Hermione snapped her mouth shut and cleared her throat before looking back to her luggage.

“Well, I um…” she waved a scrap of lacy fabric in the air, blushing.

“I’m out of knickers,” she sighed, rising to face him with her hands on her hips.

“Ah,” he couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he moved to find another one of his impeccable suits. Hermione bit her lip when he turned his back to her and she got a good look at his arse. 

“Charge anything you find to the company. Will you be back in time for the 11.15  briefing?”

“I should think so, yes.” 

The next minutes were occupied with them getting dressed. Just before she was about to leave, Draco stopped her with a hand on her elbow.

“Hermione.”

She still shivered when he said her name like that.

“Please purchase whatever you want. Necessary and unnecessary. I’ll see you at 11?”

Hermione nodded slightly flustered at this allowance. Then he surprised her even more when he kissed her cheek and lingered.

Hermione froze.

This was much different than before. She had no idea how to react to this. Draco seemed to realize it the same moment he pulled back. It only took a second but she saw the change in his eyes when he pulled his Occlumency shields to the front. 

Clearing his throat, he stepped aside to exit the room.

“I’ve left some notes on the desk, if you have time I’d ask you to see they are carried out.”

He was gone before she had time to respond. Without even looking, she swiped the small stack of notes to stuff in her pocket to go over later.

At the end of the day, she left notes on the desk declaring things taken care of. Then she wore the most expensive set of lingerie she had purchased earlier that day, threw on a dress she knew he liked and was determined to get some answers to questions she hadn’t been aware needed to be asked.

However, Draco beat her to it during dinner.

“I realise we asked this when you first interviewed, but why did you choose to work for Draconite Inc.?” Draco asked smoothly as they finished their glass of wine after dessert. Hermione was full from the wonderful meal and the wine left her feeling more at ease. She twirled the remainder of her wine, regarding her boss over the rim of her glass.

“Well,” she drew out the sound, sitting forward in her seat after draining her glass. “I knew I wanted to make a name for myself. I realised I couldn’t do it instantly in the patriarchal society that is the English wizarding community. So I chose to find a place where my skills would be appreciated. I hope that is still the case?”

“Certainly,” Draco said with a glint in his eyes as he regarded her.

“It’s never been my intention to remain your PA forever, I apologise if I’m speaking too bluntly, but you asked and I-“

“You should always speak the truth, Hermione,” Draco said solemnly before emptying his glass as well. Hermione bit her bottom lip, questioning if she was about to ruin whatever this trip had been. But she needed to know.

“Why did you make me change the time for our return Portkey?” She pinched her lips, leaning back in her seat with her arms around her middle. 

“And wh-“

“I wanted-“

They spoke in unison before clamping their mouths shut. Hermione exhaled, waiting for him to elaborate. He cleared his throat twice before speaking.

“I had you change our return because I would like for you to have a chance to explore the city outside of business meetings and private dinners. If you so wish, I wanted to show you other parts of our magical community in New York.”

Hermione chewed her lip. It was not what she had expected and she didn’t know how to react.

“As Draco and Hermione, if you’d like,” Draco concluded and she caught it again, the tiny flicker of insecurity that she recognised from herself.

“Well, yes. Okay. Thank you, that sounds lovely.”

He extended his hand to escort her back to their hotel at which time his reaction to her lingerie made both their nights much better.

The last two days of business were conducted just as the ones before. They were Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy from the time they left the hotel room in the morning and returned to Hermione and Draco when they ventured out for dinner and drinks. 

Their day in New York as Hermione and Draco was magical even if they spent it in Muggle New York. Hermione refused to think about the repercussions of their day together. She knew that the last day with him was unrealistic for them. But she clung to it and him with everything she had.

When they returned to their hotel room for the last night, he undressed her slowly. That time it was different too. He didn’t ask her to open her mind to him, yet she felt the touch of his magic when he entered her. The sex was slow and sensual that night opposed to the rushed and frantic sex from nearly every previous night between them.

She felt the beat of his heart against her chest as he slowly thrust into her, kissing up the side of her neck. Hermione clutched her fingers in his hair, holding him to her.

“Hermione,” his voice was a whisper against her skin the moment before she felt her climax approach. He surged into her and Hermione gasped her release into his mouth.

The next moment the world shifted as his magic tickled her skin amid his orgasm.

Hermione dug her nails into his shoulder blades, clinging to him and wanting the moment to last.

Chapter Text

The first week after returning from New York was plagued by routine. After a much-needed day off offered to her by Draco, Hermione returned to the office with a mindset similar to before she went to New York. She was quick to realise that this had been the right choice. Despite how different she might feel (for reasons she was perhaps too afraid to put to words), nothing about her work had changed. When she first reencountered Draco in the office, he was with Mr Nott, and Hermione resumed her role of diligent PA.

“Welcome back, Miss Granger,” Mr Nott greeted her with a slow and gentle pat on her back. Hermione tried to catch Draco’s eyes, but he averted his gaze, pursing his lips.

“Thank you, Mr Nott. Have you been terribly bereft without my help in the office?” She teased as she did her best to get a handle on all the paperwork that had piled on her desk.

“Bereft isn’t adequate to describe my torments,” Mr Nott wailed even though he grinned. Draco kept quiet and only offered her a terse nod before returning to his office. Hermione bit her lower lip, pretending not to notice nor care as Mr Nott rambled on about something she was meant to pay attention to. She snapped back to attention just as Mr Nott ended his speech.

“Of course, sir, I’ll get right on it,” she said automatically, assuming Mr Nott would leave her alone after that. To her chagrin, he rocked on his feet, levelling her with a curious look. 

“How was your trip to New York, Miss Granger?”

Hermione, who had just resumed her seat, felt her cheeks blush and faced the contents on her desk. She straightened some papers to keep her gaze fixed on anything but Mr Nott or Draco’s office. She opened her mouth but found it too dry, so she had to swallow an extra time before she found her voice at a level as normal as possible.

“It was lovely. D- Mr Malfoy graciously offered me some time to explore the city when we had wrapped up our meetings,” she fibbed. It wasn’t a complete lie. She had explored parts of the city after meetings were over. Draco had just been by her side, pulling her into his arms for slow kisses and gentle caresses without a care for anything else around them. She struggled with her shields and shelving to push those thoughts aside for another time. Now wasn’t the opportune moment to succumb to her emotions.

“What was your favourite part of the trip?” Mr Nott pushed on.

“Oh, um,” Hermione faltered, trying to think of something that would sound believable and yet not something pulled from a tourist book. She wracked her brain for something, but the first thing that came to mind was all the orgasms Draco had wrung from her body in his hotel room - several times. Or the way he looked at her when he came inside her. She blinked twice.

“Central Park was quite nice,” she said. “It reminded me of some of the parks here in London,” Hermione lied through her teeth. The only part of Central Pak she had seen was one afternoon when she and Draco had taken a walk through it from one meeting to get back to the hotel. She hadn’t paid much attention to the surroundings, with Draco’s fingers travelling along her spine the entire walk back.

“I suppose you’re right,” Mr Nott mused. He waited beside her desk for a couple of tense moments, tapping his fingers on the corner of her desk expectantly before he cleared his throat.

“Right, I’ll let you get back to work,” he offered jovially before he resumed his place in his office, keeping the door open similarly to Draco’s.

Hermione breathed much easier afterwards, but as she filed documents and contracts, she invented small stories to tell Mr Nott and co-workers if they asked about her trip again.

Thankfully, no one did. Most of the other employees in Draconite Inc. hadn’t even known their boss had been abroad for the past week, let alone that Hermione had been with him. She felt oddly relieved about this and somehow also cheated of the chance to tell anyone about it.

She would leave the office daily with her usual greetings for Mr Nott and Mr Malfoy as before. Mr Malfoy was still the last one to leave the office on most days. However, Mr Nott also seemed to have longer work days for some time. Hermione debated requesting PA meetings with Mr Malfoy, but since they had never had such a thing before, she reasoned it would look odd if it was something they suddenly picked up.

That was how the first week passed. 

Her only interaction with Mr Malfoy was professional and to the point. No lingering looks or touches. It was like their week in New York had never happened.

She tried to argue with herself that this was what was to be expected. Their interactions in New York had been limited and restricted to the circumstances. It was stupid of her to expect anything else from Draco when they returned to London even if she had held secret hopes for…. something.

Hermione didn’t want to put those expectations into words. If she did, it would make it so much harder to ignore.

Upon the first weekend home, Harry interrupted her Saturday afternoon of mellowing when he came through the floo.

“I cannot believe you’ve been back almost an entire week, and I haven’t gotten a single owl or anything from you,” he harped on as he dusted soot from his shoulders. Hermione turned from staring out her window to face her best friend.

“Good Godric, Hermione, what the hell happened to you?” Harry gasped when he caught a good look at her. Hermione looked down at herself. She was in her baggiest sweatpants and jumper; her hair was a mess on top of her head, and she wore the fuzziest and ugliest pair of socks Harry had ever given her.

“Lovely to see you, too, Harry,” she groused, returning her attention to her tea. It had gone cold. Harry sighed, coming over to sit on the window sill beside her.

“Luna home?”

“No, she left a note the other day. She’ll be off for some weeks. Some creature in Argentina or something,” Hermione wryly shook her head before absently sipping her cold tea. She spat it out immediately, making a gurgling sound. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry worry his lips, wondering something.

“Okay, come on,” he pulled her from her reverie, pushing her towards her bathroom.

“Harry, what are you doing?” 

“Giving you a wake-up call,” he grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to look in the mirror. She frowned at the sight.

“Exactly,” Harry stated before he pulled her teacup away and yanked her jumper over her head.

“Hey!” She protested, covering her chest - she had opted for no bra for extra comfort.

“Please, Hermione, I’ve seen you naked before, and besides, it doesn’t do anything for me, now, let’s get these off,” he started to pull on her sweatpants, and Hermione relented. Harry made quick work of undressing her and taking her hair down before he pushed her under the shower, turning on the water.

“Bloody cold!” Hermione shrieked before Harry cast a warming charm. 

“Thank you,” she whispered a little while later when the water warmed her inside and out. She remained under the steamy spray for longer than was strictly necessary. Harry waited with a towel for her when she eventually turned the water off. He wrapped her tightly in the towel before he hugged her close.

“What’s the matter, Hermione?” He asked in a hushed voice as he continued to hug her.

“It’s nothing. I’m just…” she trailed off, trying to pull back from Harry’s embrace. He held her a little while longer before he let her so she could finish in the bathroom.

“I’m going to find you something pretty to wear, you’re coming out with me and Cedric tonight,” he called to her through the door. Hermione was glad Harry didn’t hear the little groan she let out at the thought of being the third wheel with Harry and Cedric.

“I heard that,” Harry called from her bedroom. Hermione rolled her eyes. When Harry returned, she had just pulled on new knickers, arms packed with clothes, not knowing what to choose for her. 
 “Don’t give me that, Cedric is bringing a friend, too, so there’s no third-wheeling going on. Put this on,” he handed her an emerald dress she hadn’t worn in years. Harry observed as she wrangled her tits to sit properly without a bra in the dress.

“There, happy?” She pouted, folding her arms across her chest. Harry tilted his head.

“Not yet. Your hair still looks a mess, but I have no idea what to do with that. I’m getting Cedric, wait here.” 

Before Hermione could argue, Harry was gone through the floo. With a huff, Hermione sunk into her sofa once more as she waited. It only took a couple of minutes before Harry returned with Cedric in tow.

“I see what you mean, Harry,” Cedric mused, pulling his wand from his pocket before he stood behind Hermione and started yanking on her hair.

“Ow, careful,” Hermione cringed, sitting straighter.

“Trust me, Hermione, I know what I’m doing. I have several cousins I’ve been forced to spend time with for years.”

Hermione said nothing else for the time Cedric tamed her hair, and she grumbly acknowledged that he had done a great job with her curls. Then they took her hands on either side of her and side-alonged her.

While Cedric went in search of his friend, Harry pulled Hermione aside.

“Look, I get that you’re feeling… something. This isn’t us trying to fix things or setting you up. I just want to cheer you up and maybe get my mouthy best friend back and not this pouty mess,” Harry teased her, and Hermione couldn’t stop smiling a little.

“You don’t even have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I just want to see you be happy tonight, okay?” Harry held out his hand for her. Hermione looked at her best friend, loving him a bit more just then. Then she took his hand.

“Okay,” she acquiesced.

For the rest of the evening, Hermione was determined to have fun. She greeted Cedric’s friend, Cho, with a smile and even invited her to dance later in the evening. At one point, she found herself sandwiched between all three of them, and Hermione laughed so much her cheeks hurt. She loved Harry for recognising that she needed a night out like this as a brief reprieve from thinking about Mr Malfoy. She had spent most of her day thinking about how little she - or what they had in New York - must have meant to him since it had been so easy for him to act as if it never happened. She didn’t want to admit it because it went against her self-worth to rely this strongly on a wizard, but it damn well hurt. In all her flirts and trysts, she had never acted this way with wizards afterwards. There had always been recognition and some level of emotional fallback. This was entirely new territory for her, and it scared her how strongly she felt.

The fact that Harry would force her to come out and enjoy herself instead of wallowing in self-pity proved how great of a friend he was. She could pity herself any time and was most likely to return to it the following day, accompanied by a mild hangover unless she managed to round up some Hangover Potion before.

But for the evening, Hermione decided to have fun and not think about Mr Malfoy.

Hermione hardly gave Mr Malfoy a second thought that evening. It was only when a handsome wizard offered to buy her a drink that Hermione hesitated, considering her contract with Mr Malfoy and the way he had been offended to discover her fling with Roger. The wizard was handsome and the type of man she would usually bring home for a night of fun. But her hesitation brought memories of Draco to the surface.

So Hermione went home alone while Harry and Cedric left for Harry’s flat, with wide grins on their faces as they couldn’t take their hands off of each other.

As anticipated, Hermione woke up with a hangover the next morning. Without any hangover potion in the flat, it still hung about her head when she returned to the office Monday morning.

When she took her place by her desk, she noticed a change in her and Mr Malfoy’s schedule. Their usual time on Thursdays had been removed. Granted, he had been forced to remove it last week because the trip to New York had left him with many things to deal with once they were back. She had assumed it would resume this week. She’d even looked forward to it. Worrying her bottom lip, she considered what to do for a long moment. Hermione glanced at the open door to Mr Malfoy’s office. Mr Nott had yet to show up.

Before she could doubt herself or talk herself out of it, she went to make a pot of tea. She made a tray, as usual, with a small assortment of biscuits she knew Mr Malfoy liked and then went to talk to him. Thankfully, he was alone, and she quietly shut the door behind her wandlessly as she set the tray on the table between his sofa and armchairs.

“Miss Granger?” Mr Malfoy asked, looking up from the amount of papers he was looking through. Before speaking, Hermione poured him a cup of tea. 

She wouldn’t necessarily call it a peace offering, but it was a welcome way to open this conversation.

“One sugar, two drops of cream as usual,” she said, setting the tea cup in front of him.

“Thank you,” he said in a low voice. Hermione waited for him to taste it before speaking again.

“I noticed you have cancelled our usual appointment on Thursday again. Can I ask… that is to say, did I…?” She let out a frustrated sigh, angry with herself for not finding the right words in the situation. The self-assurance from her week in New York seemed to have vanished along with the appointed note in the calendar.

“I apologise for not letting you know in advance, Miss Granger,” Mr Malfoy set his cup aside, lacing his fingers in front of him. He didn’t get up, though.

“It was my choice to cancel our appointment for the time being. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, things after New York have changed, and I have much to see to, not to mention the fact that-“

“Did I do something wrong?” Hermione said with a sinking heart and hated herself for it. She felt like her heart lolled about in her stomach, making her queasy. Mr Malfoy looked at her, really looked at her. His lips thinned before he spoke again.

“You did nothing wrong, Miss Granger. I believe I have taught you all there is to know about Occlumency. And then some,” he added in an undertone as his gaze darkened. Hermione bit her lip, shifting on her feet.

“Right,” she deflated. He hadn’t sounded angry, yet there was something standoffish about the way he had said it.

“I regret to say that I don’t think I can teach you more than I already have,” he offered in a different tone. His eyes levelled on her, and she couldn’t look away. Her instincts told her to look away before he surely saw what was in her mind. What she still wanted with him.

“I see,” she said, blinking to look away. There was a tense pause between them. Hermione felt at a loss for words, a very unusual occurrence for her. There were things she wanted to say, but from the way Mr Malfoy looked at her, she wasn’t sure if she ought to say them.

“I’ll leave you to your work. Oh,” she paused on the threshold on the way out. “Cormac McLaggen has left several letters to request another meeting, what should I let him know?”

Mr Malfoy’s features sharpened. He groaned, shaking his head lightly.

“Sodding McLaggen can’t take a hint, fine,” he exhaled heavily as he got to his feet. “Hold him off for the week with some excuse or another to see if he takes the hint. If not,” he sighed, dragging a hand over one side of his head before cupping his jaw. Hermione followed the motion, watching the veins on his hands with every movement. Memories of their time in New York flooded her mind, and she had to remind herself to pay attention.

“…a date later this month,” Mr Malfoy finished exhausted.

“I’ll see to it,” Hermione hurried to say before returning to her desk.

Over the next couple of days, she observed just how much things had changed since New York aside from the obvious. The door to Mr Malfoy’s office wasn’t always open as it used to be. He asked for her help less frequently than before and instead sent messages through Mr Nott. On his part, Mr Nott hinted at this change but said nothing more of it. Hermione kept at her work, trying her best to ignore the heavy pit of anguish that seemed to have taken up residence in her stomach.

On Thursday, she did her best to ignore the empty slot in Mr Malfoy’s calendar, but her eyes wandered several times during the day. Her Arithmancy calculations for the coming month were sloppy, and she was resigned to end her day early when Mr Malfoy called her into his office.

“Please, close the door, Miss Granger,” he instructed with his back to her. He was by the large windows, his sleeves rolled back, and for a brief moment, Hermione thought she had been thrown back in time. The situation was too similar to every meeting she had had with him before New York.

He waited for her to sit on the sofa before joining her.

“Miss Granger,” he began. Hermione was about to tell him to call her Hermione but thought better of it. It seemed that had been a benefit for them only in New York.

“Yes, sir?” She questioned and caught the way his nostrils briefly flared at the moniker.

“I thought it best if we terminated the contract together,” he waved his wand from inside his breast pocket, and the contract she had signed all those months ago materialised on the table in front of them.

“Oh,” her heart sank as she watched the parchment flatten on the table. “I see.”

“I thought it would be the right thing to do, considering…” Mr Malfoy trailed off. His palm fell to rest on the patch of leather that separated them on the sofa. Hermione twisted a little, seemingly to adjust her skirt, but in the process, she ended up nudging the tips of his fingers with her knee.

“Yes,” she gasped when Mr Malfoy’s fingers twitched before he clenched them into a fist. “You’re probably right. It would be for the best if…”

“If? What, Miss Granger?” He turned to face her fully. Hermione felt the weight of his grey eyes, and for some inexplicable reason, she knew that he was thinking of stolen moments in New York, too.

“If I, I mean to say, I don’t want to jeopardise my job here, and-“

“You could never,” Mr Malfoy bluntly stated. His hand flew to grasp her knee, squeezing it gently in confirmation. However, all it did was remind Hermione of the many other ways he had touched her before.

“Mr Malfoy, I-“

“Miss Granger, we-“ They spoke in unison as they slowly leaned closer. Hermione couldn’t tell who initiated it, all she cared about was that all of a sudden, Mr Malfoy had her halfway pinned under him, kissing her. And she kissed him back. 

His hands roamed across her hips as he pushed her further into the sofa. His kisses grew more and more heated, and she welcomed it. 
 New York felt both a lifetime ago and like it was yesterday.

His magic caressed her mind, and she opened to him, letting him in to show him how much she still wanted this. 

Wanted him.

He groaned into her mouth, pushing his hips between her legs. 

In the next moment, they were bare from the waist down, and there was no need for him to prepare her because her body was accustomed to him when he pushed inside.

He shifted back on his knees, locking his hands around her hips as he rocked into her harder and harder.

‘Arch your back for me.’

She was no longer surprised to hear his voice in her head. Ever since New York, all her walls had been broken down for him. Even if he hadn’t been aware back then, she wasn’t even sure he was aware at this moment while he was buried inside her.

Hermione arched her back, and he hit a deeper spot inside of her. Her eyes fluttered closed with pleasure.

‘Look at me.’

Her eyes snapped open, facing his determined and wild expression. He still wore his shirt, but Hermione could still see every flex and roll of his abdominal muscles. She knew them almost by heart from their time in New York.

His fingers dug into the inside of her thighs, holding her open for him to fit between her legs. Slowly, his presence in her mind increased while he slid his thumbs further up her thighs. When he reached her core with his thumbs, he pinched her clit between them while he forced a memory from New York into her mind.

She was assaulted with memories of them naked in his hotel room while he thrust harder and more frantically into her.

“Hermione, look at me,” he croaked when her eyes glazed over with the memories, and she felt like she might cry. Whether it was from sadness or relief, she couldn’t be sure at the moment.

Mr Malfoy, no, Draco. The way he looked at her then assured her that it was just Draco who was inside her. 

Draco bent over, keeping one hand between them to touch her while the other slid up her body, cupping her neck before softly stroking a thumb across her cheek.

“Hermione,” he said again, he sounded almost pained. He kept looking at her as if she might vanish from beneath him.

‘We shouldn’t be doing this…’

“Please,” she whimpered, unsure what she pleaded for.

His eyes strayed to somewhere beside her. She followed but couldn’t see what he was looking at. She clung to him. With her hands on his shoulder. With her magic reaching for his inside her mind. She twined their magic, and it did something to him. He lurched forward, thrusting harder and deeper before they came in a guttural groan that was locked between their lips.

He grew still above her. Hermione panted for breath as he slowly pulled himself away from her. He kissed her again, and it was tender like their last days in New York, and Hermione felt her heart flutter. But then he withdrew, and she could tell that he utilised his mental shields. It was Mr Malfoy again and not Draco.

Without many words, he set himself right again, offering a cleaning spell for her before she redressed, too. She waited for him to say something. At some point, they both looked at the contract still on the table. Unsigned. 

She directed her wand at it, tears gathering behind her eyes, and in the next moment, her signature flashed at the bottom of the paper. Mr Malfoy nodded with a grim expression.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he hesitated before continuing. He even waited until she was almost out of the door. “Miss Granger.”

Never before had the sound of her last name sliced so viscerally into her chest. She ducked her head and went straight home to shower before curling up in bed.

Chapter Text

In the days that followed, Hermione fell into a simple routine. She used her Occlumency skills to ignore her latest encounter with Mr Malfoy. To everyone else in the office, their working relationship held up as she brought his tea and maintained his calendar along with everything else.

On the inside, she struggled to get through certain days when she had to work closer with Mr Malfoy than she had the heart for. Because as loath as she was to admit it even to herself, she had realised that whatever she had been involved in with Mr Malfoy, at one point it had surpassed her contractual Occlumency lessons and into… something else.

At least on her part. 

There were moments from her time with him that kept playing repeatedly in her mind. The most prominent feature was when he’d called her Hermione as he came inside her. She couldn’t stop wondering if it meant that he felt something too. He’d said it with such reverence for her, or so she had assumed at the time. She had never met anyone as proficient at Occlumency as Mr Malfoy, so she really couldn’t be certain of anything. 

If the situation didn’t require her to be around him in the office, she would have avoided him to avoid the turmoil of feelings that arose whenever he looked at her. Not to mention when his calm voice called for her attention with a soft-spoken ‘Miss Granger.’

With her Occlumency sessions terminated Hermione made sure Mr Malfoy’s schedule was otherwise occupied. In the wake of their trip to New York, several new business partners were vying for his attention and meetings to seal deals. Mr McLaggen sent daily owls that sounded more and more like he was begging for a second meeting. Hermione replied with excuse after excuse for as long as possible.

A week went by, and she made sure to schedule most of Mr Malfoy’s meetings outside of the Draconite Inc. building. It was the only way she could justify to herself to keep Mr Malfoy at arm’s length. She was well aware that she couldn’t avoid him forever. Thankfully, Mr Nott was a frequent presence around the office, and it helped somewhat.

On Friday afternoon, Mr Nott swept through the office a little after his lunch break with a spring in his step.

“What a week, eh, Miss Granger, good thing it’s over.” He tapped his fingers on her desk, side-eying the still-empty desk opposite hers. 

“Not yet, Mr Nott. Some of us still have a few hours left of work before it’s the weekend.”

“Ah, what a shame. Well, can’t say I envy you. Drake is in a foul mood this afternoon.”

“How so?” Hermione asked, glancing at the halfway closed door before returning her attention to Mr Malfoy’s schedule for the coming week. There was a fundraiser gala his mother had been pestering him about attending for a while now. Her latest owl had demanded his reply in the affirmative and whether or not he would bring Miss Greengrass once again. Hermione’s stomach churned every time she looked at the letter, to which Mr Malfoy had yet to reply.

“Some wankers from New York are only in it for the Galleons. Draco’s been trying to set up a fund for children without the means to afford Quidditch equipment but it’s difficult to get sponsors abroad who aren’t complete di-“

“Theodore!” Mr Malfoy’s voice thundered through the floor, causing Mr Nott to jump on the spot before he meant to scurry off. “My office, now!”

“So close,” Mr Nott muttered as he slouched away. Hermione held back a little laugh as the door swung closed. However, when she returned her attention to her desk, the letter from Narcissa Malfoy still stared back at her. She pushed it as far away as possible and instead focused her Arithmancy skills on Mr Malfoy’s next week, trying not to think about him helping children play Quidditch.

No more than twenty minutes later, Mr Nott waved a less cheery goodbye on his way out of the office. Still, it was an earlier leave from him than she would’ve expected. 

“Miss Granger,” Mr Malfoy called in a much calmer tone than when he had called after Mr Nott. Hermione shivered. She shut her eyes for two seconds, stealing herself before she walked into her boss’ office.

“Yes, Mr Malfoy?”

He was behind his desk, sleeves rolled back, and his jacket tossed on one of the large armchairs. His hair looked ruffled, and she gathered he had run his hands through it more times than he ought to throughout the day. Stepping slowly closer, she noticed a light scruff on his chin that usually wasn’t there. A true sign of his work getting to him. He was busy writing across several parchments and papers. As she stopped in front of his desk, she noticed it was a combination of contracts for players as well as sponsor deals.

“If either of us is going to have any time this weekend, I require your assistance with all of…” He gestured at the mismatched papers and documents on his desk, frustration seeping out of him. “This!”

Hermione breathed deeply. This, she could do. Working alone with Mr Malfoy was possible as long as they kept it strictly professional. It messed with her head less than other things. It also kept her occupied enough to prevent her from thinking of the magnetic pull she felt towards him.

“Of course, sir. Why don’t I fetch you a cup of tea for a break and I’ll have a look?”

With his tea, Mr Malfoy slumped into one of the leather armchairs while Hermione set to work organising the many papers. She separated them by category first and then stacked them according to urgency. Her mind briefly wondered about the letter from his mother, but she deemed it best to wait for later. There were other documents more important.

“These appear to be the most urgent, sir,” she mentioned, placing the documents on the small table in front of Mr Malfoy. “Tutshill Tornadoes has faced some injuries that require more funds for physical therapy and possible new replacement players. The after-school programme in London is looking to hire an extra teacher because more children have taken to the sport. Meanwhile, a few businesses in Diagon are in dire need of a lease update, all things considered.” She tapped each document as she presented the issues. Mr Malfoy listened attentively, his eyes darting between her and the papers. 

“Right, which ones first then?”

“I’d say we would need to draft a job listing for the teacher and go over the funding for the Tornadoes physical therapy. From what I remember, they have a match coming up.” Hermione handed the financial statement over, taking care not to let her fingers brush Mr Malfoy’s. She thought he might’ve noticed based on the way he held his hand aloft with the documents for a moment longer than necessary. She cleared her throat.

“I can help draft an advertisement for the teaching position if you’d like, sir?”

“Yes, thank you, Miss Granger. But only if you have the time, I wouldn’t want to keep you from your end-of-the-week plans,” he commented, a slight frown of distaste around his mouth almost as if he didn’t want to think about Hermione and what she might do in her spare time. She considered it for a moment, thinking back to his dislike of her fling with Roger.

“I have a few hours before I’m off the clock,” she offered, shrugging and collecting the requirements the school had listed. Opposite her, Mr Malfoy nodded.

“Very well.”

For a long while, they worked silently, only conversing when necessary about things relating to the particular issues at hand. The hours crept by without either of them commenting on it. Hermione was determined to prove herself as the professional personal assistant she was.

And nothing else.

On her way back from the supply room in the late hours, she nearly collided with Mr Malfoy in the door.

“Apologies, Miss Granger,” Mr Malfoy said as he cupped his hands around her shoulders. She shucked in a breath at the proximity. Mr Malfoy seemed to notice it, too, because he quickly let go and stepped aside to let her pass. She tried her best to ignore the lingering touch of his hands on her as she left the finalised documents in neat piles on his desk, ready to be sent out Monday morning.

“Thank you, Miss Granger.” From the sound of his voice, she thought he was still on the other side of his office. When she turned around, he was halfway across the room towards her. “Once again, you’ve proven yourself the best choice for your position.” A smile slowly twitched his lips while something else passed across his eyes. They darkened briefly before she noticed the visible tells of him applying Occlumency.

“Of course, sir. If that is all, I best be off for tonight.” She glanced at her watch; it was well past seven in the evening. She had stayed much longer than perhaps necessary.

“Good evening then, Miss Granger.”

He didn’t move, and Hermione realised she would have to step very close to him to exit his office. 

Their shoulders brushed and she felt the magnetic pull again. She was sure Mr Malfoy felt it too when he momentarily stopped breathing. On his next exhale, her name sounded pained.

“Miss Granger.”

“I should go,” she whispered but didn’t move. Without thinking, her head tilted closer to Mr Malfoy. That was when she felt his magic brushing against her mental shields. For a second, she fortified them, but then she changed her mind and dropped them altogether to let him in. Once she did that, it seemed he needed no further invitation. 

Hermione knew they were moments away from making a mistake. She knew her heart most likely wouldn’t be able to handle the aftermath. But she forgot all of that the second Mr Malfoy grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her hard. Their hands urgently reached for each other, seeking to undress each other faster than the other. Hermione found herself perched on the back of the leather sofa without her knickers and her skirt pushed up around her hips. She fumbled, getting Mr Malfoy’s trousers pushed down his backside while he shuffled closer between her legs. He stroked her twice, finding her clit easily while his magic wound its way into her mind to draw forth all her buried memories from their time in New York. She forgot what to do with her hands other than to cling to Mr Malfoy.

“Draco,” she gasped as he slid a finger inside her. When he froze for a second, she worried he would stop. She knew it was a mistake, having called him Draco, but the name had just slipped out without her thinking. It was beyond their relationship. She didn’t even know what they were anymore. But then he kissed her, replacing his fingers with his cock and she forgot to care about much else.

It was fast and hard. She could only assume he hadn’t been with anyone since her the week before. She certainly hadn’t been with others since she started her Occlumency lessons with Mr Malfoy. There was a small part at the back of her mind that questioned if she could ever be pleasured again by any other man.

Draco sought out memory after memory, pushing her closer and closer to a visceral climax.  However, he paused and sped on through the memories before she climaxed fully over and over again.

“Hermione,” he moaned into her ear, grasping her breast as he thrust harder into her. She lost her balance and fell backwards on the back of the sofa. The room was upside down, but Draco continued to fuck her. His hands locked around her hips to keep her in place while his mind locked with her, their magic twining and coiling together.

‘Come for me.’

“Yes,” she croaked, scrambling for anything to hold onto. She didn’t find anything before she cried out in waves of magical pleasure that overwhelmed her. Draco paused himself to pull out of her. Gently, he rolled her over onto her stomach, massaging her arse to make sure she was as comfortable as possible bent over the back of the sofa. 

‘I seem to recall your record counts much more than just one.’

Then he thrust back inside her, and Hermione nearly came undone again. She only made it to one more crashing orgasm before Draco chanted her name as he spilled inside her. He leant forward, wrapping himself around her back, wrapping his arms around her as far as he could reach.

They stayed like that for a while, catching their breath and feeling each other. Eventually, though, Mr Malfoy’s magic withdrew from hers, and he rose back to his feet. She heard the whisper of a couple of cleaning spells before the sound of his belt buckle clicked shut again. With a flick of her wrist, Hermione summoned her knickers before pushing her skirt down again. 

She didn’t allow Mr Malfoy a chance to speak before she was halfway out the door. If she didn’t get out fast, she was sure he would say something responsible and her heart would crumble all over again.

“You have a letter from your mother you need to reply to. Most likely, an owl to Miss Greengrass will be necessary as well. Goodnight.” Hermione rushed from the room, forgetting her briefcase in her haste to get to the lifts. She couldn’t keep from turning around, and when she did, she saw the face of her boss, appearing anguished, with his lips shaped around a name that could likely be her own.

Her heart stuttered in her chest as she staggered through the lobby and to the nearest apparition point. 

“About time you arrived, dinner is almost cold and- shite, Hermione, what happened?” 

Hermione was on her knees in her sitting room. Harry rushed across the space to wrap his arms around her, and one second later, a sob tore through her throat. Everything crashed around her, and she couldn’t control her emotions. Harry tried to talk to her but soon realised there was no point as she was beyond words and coherence. She vaguely thought she heard the floo and assumed Cedric had left. Or arrived. She wasn’t sure when Harry helped her to bed.

He fumbled a little when he removed her knickers from her fist. She felt a thick blanket drawn over her before Harry fumbled some more to get her out of her clothes under the blanket. 

It was impossible to tell when she stopped crying. Sleep must’ve overpowered her because she woke in the middle of the night with Harry curled around her. He was on top of the blanket, but he held her close even so.

“Sleep, Hermione. You can tell me tomorrow. If you want.”

Hermione nodded and went back to sleep.

In the morning, Hermione told Harry as much as she could bear. He said nothing, only nodded when appropriate. She cried a little more, and Harry let her. He stayed with her for the weekend, floo-calling Cedric early in the morning to inform him. Throughout Saturday and Sunday, they watched terrible movies and ate their weight in greasy takeaways.

“Are you sure you have to go to work tomorrow?” Harry asked the question she hadn’t stopped thinking about since she left the office two days ago.

“I still work there.”

“Yes, but Hermione-“

“I know, Harry.” She sighed. “I know.”

The magnetic pull she had felt with Mr Malfoy didn’t dissipate. If anything, it increased with every time she was forced to work closer with him, which was nearly every day. She knew she should maintain her distance, but it grew increasingly difficult when he spoke to her in ways that made her feel like Hermione and not just Miss Granger to him. Their affair on Friday afternoon was only to be the first of others to follow.

Despite their weekly appointment in his calendar being deleted, she still found herself half, if not entirely, naked in Mr Malfoy’s office - or indeed other parts of the building - with him buried inside her, physically and mentally. There were times when she thought he felt the emotional strain of what they were doing, too, when he barged through her mental shields, calling her Hermione as he slid his cock slowly into her. On the occasions she called him Draco and ran her fingers through his hair, she would sometimes feel him tremble. 

When they were together, whether it was a heated and quick thing following a stressful meeting, or a slow and thorough affair on the floor of his office after a long day, they were Hermione and Draco. 

But when their tryst was over, they returned to Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy, and Hermione’s heart crumbled to pieces all over again.

Mr Malfoy hadn’t taken Miss Greengrass to the fundraiser event, but he had brought her along for another dinner party where he represented Draconite Inc. Whenever those pictures appeared in the Prophet, Hermione flooed to Harry’s place if Luna wasn’t home, which was more often the case. She hardly cared that it impeded his nights with Cedric. She was so miserable, and yet she couldn’t get herself to keep away from Draco. 

Mr Malfoy.

She felt like a secret mistress, except there was no wife for her to hide from. At least, not as far as she knew. She kept wondering and asking herself why and how he could switch so easily between the two sides of their… relationship. It wasn’t even that. She didn’t know what it was. Only that she didn’t know how much longer she could carry on. 

Despite how much she might want to.

It was Thursday, and she was in the middle of setting up the conference room for the upcoming meeting when Mr Malfoy found her. He approached her slowly, placing a hand on her waist that then slid further to cup her arse just as Mr Nott entered. He practically apparated away from her at the intrusion.

“How has this codger managed to secure another meeting? I thought we turned him down last time?” Mr Nott dumped a stack of parchment on the table. It offered Hermione the chance to shuffle to the opposite side of the room while Mr Malfoy grew silent and sombre. He straightened his tie, clearing his throat.

“Miss Granger has held him off for as long as possible. I plan to make our stance known without a doubt today. Draconite Inc. will not be in business with the likes of- Mr McLaggen, you’re early.”

Through the door, Mr McLaggen sauntered in throwing Hermione a wink and a smirk before he turned his attention to Mr Malfoy and Mr Nott.

“Gentlemen, I am delighted to see you both again. Nott, Malfoy, how is business?” 

“Splendid, as you well know, McLaggen, so why don’t we get down to it? We’ve already made our position clear, please, waste more of our time,” Mr Nott said testily as Mr Malfoy took his usual seat at the end of the table. Hermione set about her things to make notes as she took up her seat on Mr Malfoy’s right.

The meeting proceeded as usual for Hermione to reference. Mr McLaggen continued to boast about his company and how Draconite Inc. would greatly benefit from cooperation. He never paid attention to the stiffness in Mr Malfoy nor the way he repeatedly deflected almost every question. Mr Nott kept surprisingly quiet throughout the almost half an hour. However, that seemed to be the duration he was willing to waste.

“I can’t say it’s been a pleasure, Cormac. See yourself out,” Mr Nott drawled with a faux smile before he left. Hermione remained in her seat, quietly. Beside her, Mr Malfoy slowly got to his feet at the same time Mr McLaggen practically jumped from his. Mr Malfoy brushed down his vest before fixing his attention on the other wizard.

“You’ve presented your case. We’ve given you our answer. Thank you for your time,” he confirmed evenly. There was no handshake as he nodded in Hermione’s direction before he left the room, brushed by Mr McLaggen, who looked pompously stricken.

Hermione tried to offer an apologetic wince before she turned her attention to tidying the room after the conclusion of the meeting. 

To her surprise, Mr McLaggen hadn’t left the room as she expected of him. Instead, he was suddenly very close to her. 

“Oh, Mr McLaggen, did you need something?” she asked, glancing at the open door at the end of the room. She shifted on her feet to create more distance from Mr McLaggen, who had chosen that day to wear a most odious brand of cologne.

“Miss Granger, I find myself wondering why a lovely and talented witch such as yourself would be happy working here,” he leered at her, shifting closer again. His gaze dropped several inches down her chest, lingered and then returned to her face. Leaning on the table one-armed, he smirked at her, no doubt thinking he looked very charming when in fact, it was quite the opposite.

Hermione scrambled her stack of parchments closer to her chest to maintain a meagre distance between them.

“I am perfectly happy with my position here, thank you very much. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” Hermione gestured for him to retreat so she could step around him. He dipped his chin in recognition but then paused.

“Hm, I see. No matter.” He stepped sideways, blocking her path. Then he raised a finger in her direction. “I’d just like to say this,” his voice lowered as he stepped closer again. “If you ever feel the need to find a more challenging job, feel free to owl me. I can guarantee a position in McLaggen Corp. with plenty more benefits,” he spoke in such a hushed voice that had he not been as close as he was, she wouldn’t have heard it. As it was, she heard every single word. Even the ones he only communicated with his gaze, searing a path up and down her body. 

She was just about to retort when Mr Malfoy’s voice sounded from the end of the hall.

“Miss Granger, my office, now!”

“Excuse me,” she said and rushed from the room, glad to escape the disgusting glares from McLaggen. She shook a little at the not-so-subtle come-on from Mr McLaggen. It had been a long time since she had experienced anything as sleazy as that.

“Yes, Mr Malfoy, I have the transcripts from the meeting here, if you-“ she was startled when the door slammed behind her.

“I don’t give a fuck about those,” he growled, throwing them to the floor. She was just about to protest at the amount of work she would have to do to reorganise everything, when Mr Malfoy pressed her up against the closed door and his mouth captured her own.

She didn’t hesitate nor think about much else, she just threw herself at him as she had done so many times at that point. He lifted her off the floor and carried her to…

His desk was hard and cold on her back when he laid her down, rucking her skirt up to her waist. He wasted no time breaking down her mental shields as he stroked across her knickers and undid his belt with the other hand.

‘Are you open for me?’

“Yes.” ‘Always.’

He coiled his magic into her, pulling her knickers aside before he roughly entered her. Her hair caught on something on his desk as he thrust harder and deeper. 

His magic felt wrought with emotions and she struggled to grasp all of them. Within a minute of him fucking her on his desk, his demeanour shifted and he became gentler with her, coaxing her first orgasm easily through the combined workings of his magic in her mind and his cock deep inside her. As he undid her blouse to kiss along her sternum, she caught his muttering against her skin.

“Trying to take…. Hermione…. won’t let anyone…. Hermione…. Hermione….”

Soon it was just her name he chanted as they both reached for a joint climax that had them panting and gasping for air.

He lay across her limp body across his desk for a full minute afterwards. His head was buried in the crook of her neck, his mouth still peppering kisses on her skin. She wrapped her arms around him instinctively, stroking his hair back softly. As she did so, she felt a few tears leak from the corner of her eyes. 

The last time he had been this tender and emotional with her had been in the final hours of their trip to New York. That side of him had been hidden behind Occlumency and rushed trysts ever since. Hermione felt his hands dig into the sides of her body, clinging to him.

When he slowly pulled back she easily caught the sweep across his face that signalled he would return to his Mr Malfoy behaviour in an instant. Still, he helped her up to readjust her skirt and blouse. He took care to delicately button her up, stroking his knuckles across the tender swell of her breast as he did so. Afterwards, he slid his hands up the column of her neck to tangle in her hair before he bent to kiss her.

It was a kiss they hadn’t shared before. Soft and delicate and brimming with feelings that forced more tears to try and escape from Hermione’s eyes. She forced them back, trying to rebuild her mental shields as Draco rested his forehead on hers.

“You should take the rest of the day off, Miss Granger,” he croaked before stepping back. Hermione’s heart did a double take as her resolve crackled some more.

“Of course, sir,” she almost sobbed. Blinking profusely, she inhaled deeply before she left his office and went straight to Harry’s place, where she waited until he returned home with Cedric in the late afternoon. She slept on Harry’s sofa or perhaps slept was being generous with the word. She dozed between fits of crying. 

Friday morning, she glamoured the dark rings under her eyes and set off to work despite Harry’s protestations.

“I have to do this, Harry. I’ll see you for lunch,” she offered as her goodbye. 

As expected, she found Mr Malfoy in his office. The frustrated noises emitting from his office told her that Mr Nott was in there as well, which was just as well. Squaring her shoulders, she knocked on the door before entering.

“Good morning, Mr Nott, Mr Malfoy.”

“Miss Granger, where did you run off to yesterday?” Mr Nott faux-chided with half a smile for her. 

“I won’t take up much of your time this morning, I’ve only come to hand in this,” she declared as she placed the piece of parchment, she had nearly torn in half a dozen times, on Mr Malfoy’s desk. 

He took one look at it and his expression blanched.

“What is this, Miss Granger?” His voice was dark and she nearly told him it was a joke.

“It’s my letter of resignation, effective immediately.” Hermione stood with her back straight, awaiting a reaction from the two of them. Mr Nott just stared at her, mouth agape as if not quite believing her. Mr Malfoy’s brows were drawn together and his jaw clenched. The quill he had been working snapped in two.

“Miss Granger, surely we can-“

“I’m afraid not, I’ve made up my mind,” she interrupted Mr Nott who was on his way around the large desk. Mr Malfoy remained seated. She focused her eyes on him. “I can no longer work here. Given the situation. I’m very sorry.” With that, she left the room to fetch her things, which she had already packed. A quick shrinking spell and she could pocket her belongings before she headed for the lift. She thought she had packed everything but with every step she made closer to the lift, she realised that she might have left parts of her heart in the drawers of her desk.

When she turned around to press the button in the lift, she saw Mr Malfoy exit his office in a rush. It took him a second to locate her but at that time, the lift doors were already closing. But before they closed completely, she heard his feeble voice calling her name.

“Hermione?”

Chapter Text

Draco Malfoy stood as if frozen to the floor. He watched the lift doors close, obstructing his view of Miss Granger. 

Hermione.

His Hermione.

She had resigned, and he hadn’t said a damned thing. He had just watched in disbelief as the smartest and sexiest witch he had ever known had walked out of his life. Faced with her letter of resignation, he had faltered. It was unlike any other business contract in his life because that’s not what she was. Miss Granger was his personal assistant.

How many personal assistants had he fucked shamelessly on his desk as often as he had Miss Granger? That question bothered him and had him rethinking his professional relationship with Miss Granger.

His mind tormented him with images and memories of Hermione from their time in New York. It had been so easy back then to slip into casual behaviour with her. To be Draco with Hermione.

But then they had returned to London, and Draco’s impending renown had hindered him on many levels while his mother pestered him from every angle.

The numbers on the lift changed, indicating Miss Granger had reached the lobby. Draco itched to Apparate down to stop her, but something in the way she had looked at him when she left his office prevented him.

What he wound up doing was staring at the closed lift doors until Theo came up next to him.

By then, Draco cleared his throat, searching for his professional facade again after Hermione had disrupted it with her departure.

“Are you still in contact with Miss Patil?” He questioned Theo. Theo looked mildly offended.

“Of course, I am. What the hell kind of a bloke do you take me for?”

“Yes, well, perhaps you can ask her if she would like her old job back? For the time being.” Draco tore himself from the space, tearing his eyes away from the lift, knowing she wouldn’t return. Returning to his office, he instantly felt the lack of her despite it being no less than ten minutes since her departure. Theo followed him.

“I could, but you know she’ll have certain, uh, demands.” Theo scratched the back of his neck, rolling it awkwardly as he looked very uncomfortable. Draco paused in front of the large windows. 

A memory flashed by him of Miss Granger pressed up against them while he ravished her from behind. He shut his eyes and bit down on his tongue to keep his emotions at bay while he cleared his Occlumency shields again.

“Meet them, then. We need an assistant, and while Miss Granger,” he clenched his jaw momentarily just saying her name, “was in a league of her own, we still require the help of Miss Patil.”

“Right, and um, what about the, um, other thing?”

Draco turned around to face Theo. He hadn’t looked this uncomfortable since their last year at Hogwarts and he had been challenged to dive into the Black Lake.

“What other thing?”

“I should expect her priority for agreeing to work here would be an assurance of daily care.”

“Set it up then.” With a wave of his hand, he dismissed Theo, who left the office and Draco to stew in his foul mood.

Early Engagement for Draco Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass

When will we see a ring?

Draco burned every damned piece of paper before he floo-called Daphne. Years of friendship between the two of them, and he was never prepared for when he found Daphne with her real lover. While it wasn’t as frowned upon for witches and wizards to go out with muggles, it was, however, a massive deal breaker in upper-class pureblood society. Especially for Daphne, whose parents had high hopes for her to marry a wealthy and high-ranking pureblood. Not the muggle artist she had fallen madly in love with. Draco genuinely hoped they would just find a way to marry sooner rather than later, so he wouldn’t have to put up with the charade.

Draconite Inc. Launches New In-House Day Care for Employees

“Just make things work, Theo!” Draco had bellowed to Theo several times when he kept pestering him with questions about Miss Patil’s return to the office.

When Padma Patil returned to her previous job as secretary to Draco and Theo, she and Theo would drop off their child in the newly instated company day-care on the first floor of the building. Draco never saw Theo or Padma during lunch breaks from that point on, as they opted to spend it with their child and no doubt fussing over each other like love-sick idiots.

Draco pushed everything off of his desk in angry frustration. Parchment fluttered around him while his ink pot crashed and tarnished everything. He ran his hands through his hair as he observed the mess and thought back to the last time he had thrown caution to the wind like that.

Hermione’s beautiful face rose to the surface of his memories once again.

“Fuck!”

It was supposed to have been an easy way for both of them to get whatever this was out of their system. He had known all about her physical attraction when he proposed their lessons. He felt a similar physical attraction to her, and it had surprised him at first so much that he tried to keep his distance. 

Once they started their lessons, however, he soon realised she would ruin him.

And she did.

Draco Malfoy had never experienced anyone as adept at Occlumency as Miss Granger. Given his tutorage was some of the best, his skill of the troubling magic was some of the best. Faster than expected, Miss Granger had risen to be his equal in that regard, and he had broken some of his rules when he pushed the limits of their mental abilities mixed with carnal desires. Not that she had seemed to mind.

Not until recently.

For weeks, Draco replayed scenarios and conversations with Hermione when he was alone. 

He knew he had messed up, he was just uncertain, particularly about what he’d done and even more concerning, how he might fix it. Because he wanted to fix it. He still couldn’t bear to think about how broken she had looked when she had resigned.

Then he started wondering where she might work now, and thoughts about McLaggen popped unbidden into his head.

Draconite Inc. Buys Out McLaggen Corporation

It’s the largest merger to date!

“Your tea, Mr Malfoy,” Miss Patil pronounced, setting a cup and saucer on the corner of his desk.

“Thank you, Miss Patil. When will you be leaving today?” Draco glanced up from his papers. Several stacks of business to attend to had accumulated on his desk since the merger, and he never seemed to catch up.

“Theo, pardon me, I mean, Mr Nott and I have planned to pick up Lila just after three. He still won’t tell me what he’s planned for us for the weekend.”

“Hm, well, enjoy your weekend, however, it may turn out.”

“Thank you, Mr Malfoy.” Miss Patil stopped on her way out of his office. “Mr Malfoy?”

“Yes?”

“I was wondering, do you have the contact information for the witch who worked here after I left the first time?” Miss Patil asked. Draco froze, his expression falling.

“Why do you ask?”

“I’ve found some of her old notes for how she scheduled your calendar and, well, I’ve never been as adept at Arithmancy myself and I was just wondering if I could floo her for some advice.”

“Ask Theo.”

“Why is Padma asking me about Miss Granger?” Theo barged into Draco’s office not shortly thereafter, and Draco heaved a sigh of frustration at being interrupted again.

“Ask her yourself!” He shouted and Theo retreated.

Narcissa Malfoy’s Exclusive 

Everything you wish to know about Draco Malfoy

“Well, it seemed to be the only way to garner your attention, darling,” his mother assessed as she oversaw the little house elf preparing their tea.

“Declaring you have several marriage proposals lined up for me is not something I wish to have in the gossiping newspapers!” 

His mother jolted back in her seat. She blinked several times before adjusting placing one ankle behind the other to look at her son, pacing the parlour.

“As I have told you before, that tone is not acceptable, Draco.”

Instead of apologising, Draco scoffed and turned his back on his mother. The view of the Manor grounds was in full bloom, and a small number of house elves’ heads could be seen just above the high rose bushes. Draco leaned his forehead against the cool glass, trying to calm his breathing.

“Your shields are shaking, darling. Is…” Narcissa trailed off. Draco didn’t bother keeping her out of his mind. If she wanted to pry, she would, and he might as well get it over with at any rate.

“I see,” she said primly, setting her teacup aside. “And what do you plan to do about the situation?”

“What situation? There’s nothing to do about anything, mother.”

She tsked behind him. He heard the click of her heels as she slowly came up beside him. Letting out a deep sigh, she took his hand between her own.

“Your father was never a man of many feelings. It took him several years to confess how he felt about me, and I nearly married another. Do not make the same mistakes as your father, Draco.”

“Mother, I-“

“Do not make the same mistakes as your father, Draco,” she repeated, patting the back of his hand gently. Then she rose to kiss him on the cheek before leaving him alone with his confused mind.

Draco Malfoy Launches New Pre-School Quidditch Programme

“Check with Headmistress McGonagall if she’ll be willing to let us visit and possibly set up an afterschool programme of sorts,” Draco instructed Miss Patil as they were nearing the end of the meeting. She finalised all their documents before tousling Theo’s hair on the way out. Theo looked like a right idiot, staring after his girlfriend, or whatever she was to him, on her way out. As the door clicked shut, Theo slapped his palms on his thighs.
“Right, Draco, mate, here’s what you need to do,” he started to explain. Draco raised a brow at his friend. Theo looked like someone about to meddle, which he always did when possible.

“I don’t need your advice about the programme, Theo,” Draco rejected, waving him off absently.

“Not what I mean, but ouch.” He feigned, grasping his chest right above his heart. Draco scoffed.

“We both know you don’t have a heart, Theo.”

“True, Padma and Lila share ownership of that.”

Draco bit his lip to stop himself from saying anything.

“Anyway, here.” Theo dropped a slip of paper on his desk. It was nothing but a scrawl of an address on the outskirts of London.

“What’s this?”

“Miss Granger’s address. Feel free to do whatever you want with this information. She hasn’t had a new job since quitting, so after Padma had a little chat with her the other week, I did some investigation myself.”

Fucking fuck.

“Turns out we’re not that different, you and I, mate,” Theo admitted on his way out the door, leaving no room for Draco to argue. He threw his quill at the door. Grabbing the slip of paper, he stared at it. 

What was he supposed to do with it?

Theodore Nott Announced as New CFO at Draconite Inc.

Draco apparated to the end of her street. He didn’t want to risk anything, nor did he want to be too bold. But he had finally determined what he needed to do.

He didn’t want to be like his father in many aspects of his life.

Brushing down the front of his suit, he secured the bouquet he had found on his way here. With a quick wave of his wand, he made sure Muggles wouldn’t pay too much attention to him or the townhouse where she lived. He also cast a few spells to ensure his knock on her door would be a surprise.

He paused on the street outside in the shadows that were illuminated from her windows. She was home. She looked as beautiful as always, except there was a tinge of sadness hanging about her. Even though she looked like she was dancing. And not alone.

Draco was halfway on his way to disapparate on the spot when he saw her in the arms of another wizard wearing glasses, thinking he had been too late, as his mother had warned him. Until another wizard wrapped his arms around the bespectacled one and kissed him soundly. Beside the pair, she giggled and observed them wistfully.

Taking a deep breath, Draco climbed the few stairs and then knocked.

“Harry, did you order pizza again?” Her voice sounded amused from the other side of the door.

Then the door swung open and Draco felt his heart rate pick up.

“Mr Malfoy?” She blinked in surprise with a hand pressed to her chest. Her hair was bunched on the top of her head with tendrils floating around her flushed cheeks. She was in jeans and a loose blouse that was open a bit more than was modest, which left him a small peek of her purple bra. He briefly wondered if it was one he had paid for in New York and whether she had knickers to match.

“What… what are you doing here?” She asked, surprised. Then she noticed the flowers and her eyes widened even further. 

“Miss Granger… Hermione, I-“ He was interrupted when she emitted a little sound when he said her name. Behind her, the two wizards stumbled into the hallway, arms around each other.

“Oh, shit,” the mousey-haired one said.

“Merlin’s beard,’” the bespectacled one spat.

Miss Granger - Hermione - spun on the spot, then turned back to face him. “One second.” Then she slammed the door in his face, and he could hear hissing and hushed voices behind the door before the sound of the unmistakable floo roared to life. Then she was back in the door with her hair down this time.

“Yes?” She breathed, keeping her arms crossed. Draco nodded to himself.

“May I come in?”

Thankfully, she nodded and soon she had offered him a cup of tea, which she made perfectly the way he liked it. She thanked him for the flowers but then cut right to it.

“What are you doing here, Mr Malfoy?”

“I came to tell you something.”

“You couldn’t have done that via owl?” She fidgeted with the hem of her blouse, watching him nervously. Draco was sorely tempted to broach her shields and see just how much she resented him, but he respected her and so he didn’t.

“No, I felt this was a message best delivered in person.”

“I see, and what is this message?” 

Draco looked at her, taking in everything about her. The little freckles that spanned her nose. The shape of her full mouth that he remembered the taste of vividly. The nervous fidgeting her fingers kept up. They continued blinking because keeping eye contact was too emotional for them. He looked at her and felt at ease for the first time since she had handed in his resignation.

“Hermione, my life has turned grey since you resigned. I,” he hesitated, slowly approaching her across the kitchen floor. They locked eyes, and he recognised the nerves in her.

“When you resigned, you left with something I had never intended to hand over.”

“I assure you, I took nothing that I hadn’t already brought with me, and I-“

“I forgive you because it was mostly my fault, you see.”

“It was?”

“Yes. You see, I have never given my heart to anyone before, yet you stole it without me noticing it.” She emitted that little sound again, and Draco struggled not to smile. He interpreted it as a good sign when she allowed him to take her hands in his.

“Hermione Granger, your mind has bewitched me but your heart has captured me. I don’t work without you anymore.”

“What? What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I want you back.”

“Back? Back how? We were never… Mr Malfoy, Draco, I worked for you and we…”

“I know what we were and what we weren’t,” he ground out. He took comfort in the fact that she at least hadn’t drawn back from him. He let go of her hands to cup her face instead. “Whatever we were before, I don’t want that. I want this; I want you.” Then he kissed her. He couldn’t stop himself. He had always been selfish. It was what had landed him in the complicated situation of being her teacher in the first place. He had wanted her already back then. Of course, he assumed it was strictly physical attraction, but the more he was with her and simply spent time with her, he realised he had slowly been falling. It only took her absence for him to realise it. 

“I love you,” he confessed quickly before capturing her lips again, never giving her the chance to respond.

It was true what he had said. He had never truly been in love before, so he hadn’t been aware of what to look for. He just knew that he couldn’t stand to be without Hermione any longer. She had grown to mean more to him than he ever could have anticipated. It was why he hadn’t been able to stay away from her even after they tore up the contract. He had tried, he had, but as with everything else in his life, he was selfish and wanted to keep her and things the way they were.

Until things crumbled around him as they always did.

Only this time, he had the opportunity to set things right.

He deepened the kiss slowly, making sure to pull away if she indicated anything of the sort. She never did. Instead, she melted into his chest, grabbing on for dear life and he felt the brush of her magic against his shields.

‘Open for me, please.’

Her voice in his head surprised him, but he did what she asked as he kept on kissing her. With every stroke of his tongue in her mouth, he felt her brush against his mental shields, slowly deciphering where to find his feelings for her. He knew the exact moment she did because she sagged a little in his arms and although they hadn’t stopped kissing, she emitted that little sound again.

He wrapped his arms firmly around her, pressing her close to his chest, to his heart that only beat for her.

‘I love you, too.’

He had never heard sweeter words from her. 

‘Will you come back?’

She broke the kiss, placing her palm on his chest to look up at him.

“As what exactly?”

“Anything you want? I just want you. Every day. I want you to be mine.” He knew he sounded territorial, but with her, he couldn’t help it. Based on the little twitch of her lips, he guessed that she liked it.

“All right. I’ll draw up a contract,” she mentioned off-handedly, smiling broadly. Before Draco could argue or say anything, he felt her brush against his mental shields again. He arched a brow at her. She copied him before he ducked back to kiss her. As their lips locked together in a frenzy, Draco was assaulted in his mind with memories of Hermione and him together. But there were new memories, too. Memories of her alone he hadn’t seen before. Naked. Touching herself.

‘Have you been a good girl, Hermione?’

She whimpered in his hands as he dragged them down her sides to fully grasp her arse. Fuck, he loved the feel of her arse. It was always so soft and full for him to squeeze.

“Yes,” she moaned, throwing her head back and allowing him access to kiss up her throat.

‘No.’ Her voice sounded in his head the next moment as he sucked on her clavicle. ‘I’ve thought about you more than I should.’

‘Show me.’

Then she did just that and Draco grew harder and harder with every memory she played for him. 

“Fuck, Hermione, I’m trying to be respectful here. I meant what I said, I love you, but fuck, I really, desperately want to, no, need to fuck you right now.” He grasped her face, running his thumbs across her cheeks where he felt a brush of moisture at that first caress. At some point, he had lifted her onto her kitchen counter, placing himself between her open legs. Her knees were locked around his hips.

“You’ve never…” she paused to take in a breath. Her eyes searched his for a moment, and once again, their minds brushed. She must’ve approved of what he brought forth because she laced her fingers behind his neck, drawing him in once the memory played out.

“I’m yours, Draco,” she whispered before wrapping herself around him.

Draco lost track of what happened next in detail. 

All that mattered was that they got rid of their clothes, and Hermione was naked under him again. 

All that mattered was that he could sheathe himself in her perfect heat, that sucked him in so tightly he nearly choked on air.

All that mattered was the shared memories they kept replaying to work each other into a frenzy as Draco slammed into her on top of her kitchen counter.

When he felt ready to combust, he slowed down and replayed a very particular memory from New York that had Hermione whining in his grasp. She looked utterly beautiful as she lay back on her counter. Her hair was a mess from all the times she had grasped it in the throes of passion. Her tits bounced deliciously with every slow thrust Draco delivered from his end of the table, both feet planted apart on the floor to hold onto her thighs.

He was mesmerised at the sight of his cock sliding inside her over and over again. He would never get enough of it. He would never get enough of her.

The shivering warned him of her impending climax and he held himself still inside her, before pulling her up for a kiss.

“I love you,” he said and thrusted hard. She clenched and cried out as she climaxed. Draco cupped her face, wanting to absorb every detail about her coming apart for him and no one else. She panted through it, their eyes locked on each other as Draco kept up a rhythm of slow thrusts. Once she blinked and nodded, he rested his forehead against her to find his climax.

It happened instantly when she repeated his words back to him.

“I love you, Draco.”

Draco Malfoy came so hard he saw stars in the middle of Hermione Granger’s kitchen. He didn’t care that he was making a mess of her or her kitchen.

All he cared about was her. Cupping her face again, he said seriously.

“I am never letting you go again.”

Chapter Text

Some Indetermined Time Later

When Hermione found Padma in the breakroom preparing a tea tray, Hermione hurried to help the witch.

“Should you be on your feet at this time?” Hermione questioned, shooting her friend a worried look. Taking the kettle out of her hands, she began pouring the tea before preparing the rest of what they needed. Mr Malfoy was always meticulous with his tea. Mr Nott, on the other hand, required more sugar than tea. Padma turned to lean against the table, rubbing a hand over her swollen belly.

“It’s not like I’m about to give birth any day now. If this one is like their sibling, they’ll most likely be late,” Padma sighed, shifting the balance on her feet to relieve the weight of her body. Hermione watched as she rubbed her back against the edge of the table. She couldn’t hold back her silent laughter.

“You laugh now, any day now, and it’ll be you walking around with a big fat belly,” Padma chastised half in jest. Hermione laughed louder this time, shaking her head.

“Not if I can help it.”

“Yes, well, that’s what I said, now look at me!” Padma gestured at herself. Hermione took her in, she looked very pregnant, that was for sure. But she was also beautiful in the way pregnant women were right before they hit the end of their third trimester. Padma wore purple, loose robes, but they couldn’t hide the swell of her very pregnant belly. Her long hair was braided down one side of her face, which she now had scrunched in a grimace.

“Can you take this in?” She waved a hand at the tray, already halfway out the door. “I have to pee again, damn this child,” Padma cursed lightly under her breath as she headed for the loo. Hermione smiled to herself as she finished preparing the tea before taking it to the office.

As usual, the door was open, making it easy for her to enter with her hands full. She deposited the tray on the table in the middle of the comfortable seating arrangements on the far side of the room. Mr Malfoy looked up from his towers of paperwork on his desk, shooting her a warm smile.

“Is that the tea?” Mr Nott poked his head inside the door, eying the tray hungrily. “Are there-“

“Yes, there are biscuits, Mr Nott,” Hermione finished for him, rolling her eyes a little.

“Excellent,” Mr Nott exclaimed before hurrying over to take a seat, fishing out a handful of the chocolate biscuits he liked so much, but said he only insisted they purchase for Padma’s sake. “Wasn’t Padma fetching the tea?” He looked around the room, a tiny worried frown between his brows.

“She was, but she, um, had to use the loo again.”

“Ah, right.” 

Hermione poured a tea for Mr Malfoy, bringing it over to stay by his side. She glanced at some of the papers he was working his way through, recognising much of what was in progress. As she should, since she had helped draft half of what lay before her boss.

She rested her hand on his shoulder, earning another warm smile from him as he gazed up at her. From the other side of the room, Mr Nott cleared his throat.

“Careful, Draco,” he began, which Mr Malfoy ignored in favour of tasting his tea, “when they look at you like that, you’re at risk of making babies. The little one will need someone to play with.” Theo looked rakish in the way he posed the question. Mr Malfoy choked on his tea. Hermione handed him a napkin, adding a little wandless magic to clean the drops of tea that had landed on his shirt and the papers in front of him. Then she turned her attention back to Mr Nott.

“Just because all your children were conceived in the supply room does not mean the rest of us will follow that pattern,” Hermione told him sternly, delighted when Mr Nott choked on his tea in response. 

“I told you that in confidence!” Padma cried from the doorway where she had suddenly materialised, a hand on her lower back as she walked over to Mr Nott, smacking him on the back of his head.

“Oi, manhandling your boss, Padma! Draco, isn’t that a violation of her contract?” Mr Nott asked with a glint in his eyes before he hauled Padma into his lap and off her feet. She sighed contentedly, even though she still glared a tiny bit at her fiancé.

“I’m willing to look the other way, this once,” Mr Malfoy said in that low rumbling tone Hermione liked so much. “But only if you force her to stop working. Miss Granger will manage just fine until you’re ready to return once you and the baby are ready.”

“See, if you won’t listen to me, will you at least listen to Draco?” Mr Nott grumbled, helping Padma get to her feet before following her to standing.

“Fine,” Padma acquiesced, happily snatching the last of the biscuits from the tray. “I’ll go fetch Lila. When will you be home?” She asked Mr Nott before popping a biscuit in her mouth. Mr Nott watched her for half a second.

“Mate?”

Mr Malfoy sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Just go, Theo, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mr Malfoy said to no one in particular as he had already fixed his attention back to his work, his tea half finished.

“You’ll owl me if you need any help at all, won’t you, Hermione?” Padma pleaded even as Mr Nott halfway dragged her from the office. Hermione followed them back to the lifts, making sure Padma felt assured that everything would be fine.

“You just need to take care of this new baby. I want to know when they make their entrance, so I can come visit?” 

“Of course,” Padma confirmed, pulling her into a firm hug. Whispering so Mr Nott wouldn’t hear, she said, “Don’t let them work too hard. And tell Mr Malfoy to raise your pay while I’m gone if he expects you to do all my work too.” 

Hermione knew Padma said the last only partly as a joke, but there was an edge of severity in her eyes when they said their goodbyes. 

Once the lift doors closed, Hermione turned back to face the now rather empty office. It was still early in the afternoon, and there was surely plenty of work to be done with everything they were trying to achieve. She brushed down the front of her blouse and returned to Mr Malfoy.

He had undone his tie, throwing it to the floor. His shirtsleeves were rolled up again, showing off the muscles of his forearms as he moved papers around or ran a hand through his hair. 

“How may I help, sir?” She stepped up by his side, pulling out some of the papers she recognised the best. “Are these the documents you need Harry’s signature for?” Mr Malfoy grunted his response, which Hermione understood as an affirmative. As her gaze tracked down the parchment, she felt a warm hand caress the back of her thighs. She stepped out of his reach.  “Business first, Mr Malfoy,” she chastised him, snatching a few other documents from his desk. After all this time, Hermione knew him well enough that as much as she wanted to help him in any way she could, she also knew he would regret not getting this done on time. If she gave him exactly what he wanted this moment, he would be up working through half the night. When there were so many other wonderful ways he could lose sleep over.

Pulling a chair over to sit across from him on the other side of his desk, Hermione helped Mr Malfoy sort through all the documents to see which needed signatures and how pressing they were.

“Oh, but, Mr Malfoy, Harry should’ve had this design approved two days ago,” she exclaimed when she found the approved broom design. 

“Fuck’s sake, Theo,” Mr Malfoy groaned, rubbing tired hands down his face. Hermione sympathised with him as she had been part of this venture from the initial idea. An idea that had sparked in the dark hours of the night, in the middle of her bed, after Draco had wrung her dry. They had fallen into one of their deep and meaningful conversations where Draco had finally talked more about his Quidditch days and his accident. The accident was of less importance compared to Draco’s love for the sport and how much he did to ensure it meant something to others, too. It was his sole purpose with Draconite Inc. Hermione saw that in every business transaction he did after that conversation, in retrospect, she recognised it from nearly everything he had done before she had joined the company. 

So when he had voiced the idea to design a new line of brooms that were safer and more intuitive for younger fliers who were just learning how to fly, Hermione had been beyond thrilled to encourage him and help him make it happen. It was a project that had stolen many hours from their relationship during several months of initial planning, but once she convinced Harry to become a part of the project, things went much easier. As it turned out, Draco and Harry knew nearly everything there was to know about Quidditch. Draco from his early career and subsequent work of making it his business, and Harry from owning a small shop selling equipment for the sport, along with being an excellent player himself. Hermione had often wondered why he never wanted to play professionally, but as they grew older and she saw what being in the spotlight did to him, she realised he was much happier letting other people shine. Harry was brilliant that way. She loved him because he would always be her best friend. She had been overjoyed to introduce her two favourite people in the world to each other properly and then have them work together. They had designed the broom together, following plenty of advice from a few professional Quidditch players they enlisted to test it out. They’d also consulted with a few designers behind the Nimbus line of brooms, and after months of trials and adjustments to the original design, they finally had a plan for a broom they all hoped would help push Draconite Inc. to its next business level. Harry’s shop would be the first place the broom would be sold, with a special deal already gone through in favour of Hogwarts and the new first years starting later that year.

Although she would never boast about anything of the sort, Hermione was more than pleased about her role in securing the deal with Hogwarts. Headmistress McGonagall had always been fond of her. Of course, the deal came with a contingency that Hermione help set up a new initiative programme that would hopefully help boost the children’s friendships through additional flying lessons. 

As much as Hermione had never understood or even seen the appeal of the sport, she couldn’t ignore how much it meant to so many other people. That was just one of the reasons she worked as much as she did to make this happen.

The other sat across from her, pulling on his hair in frustration from being overworked and generally far too stressed than what was good for him. For her, too, if she thought about it. 

“Let’s just make sure you’ve at least signed all the papers necessary and I’ll owl them to Harry, yes?” Hermione suggested, to which Mr Malfoy agreed. The conversation focused mostly on the new broom during the rest of the work day. Hermione made sure everything was sorted, signed and sent off by the end. When she returned to the top floor and Mr Malfoy’s office, most other people in the building had left for the day. She and Mr Malfoy were all alone, yet she still spelled the wards to alert her in any case. She found him as she did most often at the end of a long day. By the tall windows overlooking the view of London. His hands were in his pockets, she could see he had rolled his sleeves further up his muscular arms. It sent butterflies through her stomach just watching him like this. She was fairly certain that when he turned around, he would already have undone the top buttons on his white shirt. 

Walking silently across the room, she summoned the tie he had tossed on the floor earlier, wrapping it lightly around one hand.

Many things had changed in their relationship since she first joined Draconite Inc., but certain things remained the same. She draped the tie over his shoulder as she stepped around him, brushing her palms down his chest.

“Long day?” 

“Something like that,” he breathed. She noticed his shoulders relax further with every brush of her hands. He glanced at the tie slung over his shoulder before raising a brow at her. Taking a step back, he slid it from his shoulder, gliding it between his fingers as he observed her. Hermione felt her pulse pick up as his gaze tracked down her form. He paused on the curve of her hips, hugged by the fabric of her black pencil skirt. She knew how conflicted he was about this particular skirt on her. His tongue skated across his bottom lip just as she felt the brush against her mental shields.

‘Your shields?’ His voice sounded heated in her mind. Hermione moved to take up a seat on the edge of his desk. She let her legs fall open as much as her skirt allowed.

‘Taken down for the moment,’ she informed him with a sly smile. His jaw twitched momentarily before she recognised the little tells of him stepping into his control. Hermione couldn’t take her eyes off the tie he kept running between his fingers as he came closer. Then he fished his wand from his pocket, firing off a few silent spells. She recognised the motion of most of them. 

“I believe it might be time to reassess some of your training, Miss Granger,” Mr Malfoy said slowly, stepping between her legs. He draped the tie across her lap so he could push her skirt up her thighs, making more room for himself.

“Which part of my training did you have in mind, sir?” She leaned back on her hands as his fingers found the line of her knickers. 

“Firstly, I think you need a reminder of the dress code for the office, this skirt…” he tutted, trailing off, wrapping his fingers around the black fabric. When he tugged, Hermione leaned back, allowing him to pull the skirt off of her. Once he threw it on the ground, he grabbed the tie again. In quick strides, he was around the table, towering over her. She held out her hands for him, a trusting smile on her lips. Mr Malfoy bound the tie around her wrists, securing her arms above her head. When he was satisfied with his work, he bent over her to capture her mouth with his. His kiss was warm, melting into her bones. She opened to him, expecting him to deepen the kiss, but instead, he pulled back.

“Seems you need to learn patience, too, Miss Granger.” 

Hermione tracked him with her eyes as he ventured back to the other end of her. 

‘Focus on your memory now,’ he instructed. Mr Malfoy rolled his sleeves further up his arms, pushing the braces from his shoulders. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, intent on singling out a memory that would enhance the coming sensations. She didn’t open her eyes until she had it ready. Dipping her chin as best as she could, she blinked.

‘Good girl.’ His voice in her head felt like a warm embrace to match the heat of his fingers as he slipped past her knickers. Neither of them was surprised at what he found. ‘How long have you been hiding this from me today?’ A flick of his wrist and her knickers were gone.

‘Since Mr Nott left.’

His nostrils flared.

‘You know the rules, Miss Granger.’

‘Apologies, sir.’

“Good.” His voice was surprisingly even when he slid two fingers through her arousal, making her shudder. He would take his time now, she knew. He always did. “Stay focused on the memory.”

“Y-yes, s-sir.” A gasp escaped her when he touched her. Mr Malfoy groaned upon contact. It took him less than a minute to find the memory of the last time she was on his desk in a similar position. Another groan escaped him, she knew he could feel her clench around his fingers. He withdrew them faster than she had time to argue. She heard rather than saw him undo his belt.

“You know I can never deny you for long,” he sounded breathless. Hermione could barely lift her head to look down her body, which was fully naked from the waist down. Her blouse was still intact, but it wouldn’t be for long if things proceeded the way they usually did.

‘Hold on to the memory,’ he instructed as he positioned himself at her entrance. She had barely grasped it before he sheathed himself with no further warning. 

The images in her mind flickered from the sensation. She breathed through it, waiting for Mr Malfoy. The feeling of him invading her every sense was overwhelming as it always was. He barely granted her the moment to gather her thoughts, to present the memory for the two of them to share, before he pulled halfway out of her. Hermione whined.

‘I know, I know,’ he cooed inside her head, running his hands up and down her thighs as he moved into the cradle of her hips again. He moved much slower this time, in contrast with his movements in the memory. From her position on the desk, she didn’t have enough strength to lift her head to watch him. Instead, Hermione closed her eyes and dove into the memory. In her memory, she was entirely naked save for Mr Malfoy’s hands cupping her breasts. In her memory, Mr Malfoy fucked her on his desk in a similar manner to now, except she was splayed out for him in a way that allowed her a recline so she could watch him. She was sure the view would be similar if she opened her eyes just now.

His hair would slowly become undone from his movements as he continued to rock into her. His shirt sleeves would sit immaculately above his elbows, exposing his strong forearms as they gripped her thighs or hips with every deep thrust inside her. In her memory, Draco kissed a path across her stomach before making his way up and between her breasts. Hermione could almost feel the phantom of his touch.

“Fuck,” Draco exhaled above her. She opened her eyes, catching sight of him bending over her. He dropped his forehead into the valley of her clothed breasts, gently rocking inside her still.

‘I should have torn this off you before we got started,’ he noted once he joined her in watching the memory, growing closer and closer to their joint release.

‘Next time,’ she promised. Hermione wanted to wrap her arms around his face, to hug him to her chest, but the tie around her wrist kept her from doing so. Draco must’ve sensed it because he picked up speed, his hands finding purchase on her skin where she most needed it.

They both sensed when they neared their climax in the memory. Hermione would never forget any of them.

‘Wait for it,’ Draco told her. His jaw was clenched. His fingers dug harder into her hips as he hit deeper inside her. Hermione’s jaw fell open, her head thrown back to stare up at the ceiling.

‘Come for me.’ 

The demand rocked through her, and she shattered. Above her, Draco groaned, cursed and then gasped her name. He collapsed halfway on top of her, so she felt the hard surface of the desk against her back. He mumbled something against her chest. The next moment, she felt the restraints of the tie fall away from her wrists. It took some effort to refind the strength in her arms, but once she did, she wrapped them around Draco.

“You always know exactly what I need,” Draco murmured. He adjusted their position, slipping out of her. The warmth of them was no longer a surprise to either of them once it coated the desk beneath her.

“It’s my job to know, Draco,” Hermione told him, stroking the damp hair from his forehead. He rested his chin on her sternum, smiling lopsidedly up at her.

“Hmm,” he hummed, so she felt the vibration in her heart. “Maybe it’s about time I reward you with that promotion.”

“I’d agree. Especially with Padma’s coming absence.” Hermione pushed up on her elbows. Draco followed, helping her sit up again.

“You know that’s not what I meant, right?” He suddenly looked worried. Hermione cupped his cheeks, pulling him down to kiss her softly.

“I know. I never worry about your love for me.”

“Good.” A genuine smile stretched across his face. Carefully, he reached inside her blouse to pull on the necklace she never took off. He held it between their faces, close enough to kiss the tip of her nose again. Hermione glanced at the diamond ring that hung from the silver chain. “Then I’ll expect you to put this back on now that our work for the day is done, Hermione.” Hermione held out her hand, allowing Draco to slip the very expensive engagement ring back on her finger. As he did at the end of every day at the office, when they were usually the last people to leave the building.

“Yes, sir,” Hermione replied, her cheeks hurting from smiling so much.

FIN