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Chapter Text

Hermione's pulse was racing. Her mouth was as dry as the Sahara Desert no matter how many times she tried to produce some saliva to stop her from feeling as though she was choking on her own breath. The silky fabric tied around her eyes blocked out any light for her to be able to see a single inch of it or the bedroom suite. The fresh linen smell of the hotel room she was sitting in mixed with citrus and rich notes of leather was all that she could smell. 

The memory foam mattress fit snug around her backside, soft enough to relax her tense muscles as she listened to her guest moving around the room across the other side, getting himself ready.

God, this is so wrong. She shouldn't be doing this. She shouldn't have come at all or even gone to Pansy Parkinson in the first place for her help and advice to solve her moodiness.

All she'd wanted was a night of fun with a stranger she wouldn't see at all tonight but one that Pansy trusted with her life to not take advantage of her. She didn't know who he was, and she wasn't going to find out either. And Pansy had known the perfect man to give her what she needed to release some of her pent-up sexual frustration.

That was the deal on both sides. For him to know who he was dealing with and for Hermione to be completely clueless and just let loose for a change.

To switch her mind off and listen to what her body needed, had needed for a very long time. To have fun and unwind, then go back to her normal life and come back every Friday night to see him at this hotel to have her fun while keeping it strictly confidential.

"Drink," her guest commanded, a warm, long, gentle finger pressing under her chin to tilt her head back, whilst his thumb pressed down on her lower lip to part them.

Hermione obeyed, doing as she had promised, as she opened up her mouth and felt the cold touch of a glass press to her lips. She almost groaned in relief as the fresh, ice-cold cucumber-flavored water coated her dry, anxious tongue. She drank every drop as he helped tilt the glass to pour it down her throat until it was all gone. 

"Who are you?" she enquired as he withdrew the glass from her, licking her lips after she finished.

"You know the deal," he said, heavy voicing charms on his voice box to cover up his real one. "You made the agreement. You don't get to know who I am." 

Hermione rolled her eyes beneath the silky fabric that obscured her vision completely, but she could hear him stepping back and placing the glass down on a tray near the fireplace on the opposite side of the room. "I'm starting to regret that." 

He chuckled a throaty, grave laugh that caused her thighs to clench together from the timbre sound of it. "Scared of me?" 

"No," she replied with a confident purr. "More or less curious to know who's going to have their way with me tonight." 

Hermione listened to the sounds of the heels on his expensive shoes as he crossed the room back to stand in front of her directly between her bare legs. She inhaled deeply, trying to catch a whiff of his cologne and see if she could recognise who he was. He smelt like leather and musk with a hint of tobacco. 

That narrowed it down to the entire population of men. He could be anyone, and she was struggling to paint a picture of who he could be as she felt him sink down to his knees in front of her at the foot of the bed as his warm, large, slightly calloused hands settled along the tops of her thighs, drawing patterns in circular motions with his thumbs.

"Would you like to take a guess?" He asked, drifting his hands up higher to the hem of her dress.

"Are you going to say yes if I get an answer correct?" 

"No." He said, a grin in his voice. She frowned in disappointment. "But it'll be fun to watch you try. But I can answer some questions with a yes or no, depending on what they are."

Hermione exaggerated a sigh as she rolled her neck to loosen her tense muscles up. "How old are you?" 

"In my twenties," he answered, keeping his hands where they were, neither going higher nor lower as he continued to draw massaging circles into the top of her thighs.

"Early or late?" She arched a brow. 

"Late." 

Hermione racked her brain hard for her next question as she wriggled her wrists together, currently bound behind her back. "Are you my age?" 

"How old are you?" He asked, turning his hands over to caress her thighs with his knuckles in light, skimming brushes. 

He was careful with her, touching her so intimately but with grace as though she were a delicate piece of glass.

"Twenty-nine." 

"Hm," her stranger hummed, shifting to lean up on his knees until she felt his hot breath ghost across her lips. "I'm close but not too close at the same time to that age." 

Sneaky bastard. That's how it was going to be, was it? To make her work harder to find out details of the man that was currently setting her skin on fire as he drifted his working hands up to either side of her body, his thumbs caressing around the edges of her breasts. 

"That's not an answer," she sighed, arching up into his touch with a quiet moan.

"That's because you haven't earned it yet," he whispered into her ear, flicking his soft wet tongue against her lobe. She whimpered as his hands fell away and the air in front of her went cold as he moved away from her. 

"Fine," Hermione cleared her dry throat, trying to keep her breathing under control. "Do I know you?" 

"Yes and no," he answered softly somewhere to her far left.

Hermione's brows furrowed deeply as she turned her head in the direction she had heard his voice. "What does that mean?" 

The sound of a glass bottle connecting to the rim of a crystal tumbler reached her ears as she listened to him pouring some liquid into the glass. "Yes, because you used to know who I was. And no, because you don't know who I am now." 

Hermione nodded, the blindfold creasing with her brows as she crinkled them together. "Did we go to Hogwarts together?" 

He took a moment to reply as she listened to the sound of him placing the glass bottle down on the glass table with a soft thump, followed by the rustle of fabric, which she could guess was him sliding one hand into his trouser pocket.

"I certainly noticed you, but you never noticed me." He whispered under a quiet breath.

Damn, he was making this harder than she had first presumed. Hermione usually excelled at solving mysteries. It was one of the reasons why she was a deputy head Auror at the Ministry looking to be head of the department after Harry dropped out to focus on his family with Ginny. In the last six years she had managed to solve cases that the previous Aurors had taken years to crack. Murders, Death Eater disappearances, potion smuggling, and werewolf cases. She'd excelled higher in the branch than anyone else who had been there for years. 

She loved her job, as challenging as it was sometimes and frustrating; she didn't regret her career choice after putting it off for so long after the war. 

Except for her partner. 

Draco Malfoy. Gods, Hermione hated that man with a seething passion. He was still the same arrogant tosser that she had known at school. Despite his change of heart towards muggles and muggle-borns, Hermione couldn't stand his guts. He liked to think of himself as top dog in the office that they shared together, challenging her and trying to get the upper hand to take the Head Auror position.

He was always picking at her, making crude comments about her hair or the way she wore her robes. Snatching her case files from her if she was halfway through reading them, or if they got sent out on the field together, he would take charge and bark orders at the other Aurors when he was only her assigned Auror because no one else would take him on board. Not that she blamed them; he was ignorant after all and rather moody.

While Hermione had learnt to ignore his cold sneers, the glares he would send in her direction whenever she opened her mouth to speak, or the way he would glower down at her as though he still couldn't stand the sight of her, Hermione often found herself at the end of a long, relentless work day trapped in an office with him and would drink a bottle of white wine to herself. 

Or two, depending on how much had gotten under her skin in those nine hours. 

He'd grown, of course. No longer the lanky, pale, pointy-faced kid with nothing better to do than to make her and her friends lives hell. He was—unfortunately—attractive now. Tall, with intimidating high-class society power, with broad muscular shoulders and a strong physique. Malfoy was fit now, even if his stupid beautiful face had changed as though the gods had carefully chiselled away all of the sharpness in his face into something more defined, glowing, and radiant that seemed to turn all of the witches attention towards him whenever he strutted through the Ministry halls with the walk of a royal.

But, unfortunately, no matter how attractive he was, that didn't change the fact that this personality was still vile and ugly. 

Pretty face, ugly black heart.

But who could he be if she hadn't truly taken the time to notice Hogwarts? She knew everyone from that school. Although that narrowed it down to at least 50,000 students close to her age in her year, the one above, and the one below. He could be anyone, and that frustrated her more. Why had she agreed to this when this was going to consume her thoughts 24/7?

Hermione's breath hitched as she felt the mattress dip behind her under her stranger's weight. Her full bottom lip came between her teeth as he shuffled forwards until his strong legs bracketed either side of her, caging her in, and his hard chest was pressed flush up against her back. 

"Nervous?" He asked teasingly, winding his arms around her waist and gently pressing on her tummy, lowering her back to lean against him comfortably.

"No." She smirked, even though her heart was racing with adrenaline as though she had been running for miles. 

"Shame," he chuckled, sweeping her hair away from one shoulder to her other to expose her throat to him. His nose pressed into the crook of her throat, inhaling her scent deeply. "Your pulse says otherwise." 

Hermione groaned as his tongue swept across her pulse point to feel it jump. She was soaking now, her clit pulsing with need, desperate for his fingers to touch her. 

"Here's the deal," he murmured as he made a path of hot wet kisses up her throat to her ear, switching between nipping, sucking, and licking. "We're going to take things slow." 

"How slow?" She gasped softly as he sucked a deep bruise into her pulse point, causing goosebumps to break out on her skin.

With a wet pop of his mouth leaving her pulse point, he wrapped his long fingers around the base of her throat as his teeth scraped around the lobe of her ear. "I have you once a week all to myself. Which means that I intend to make you come without my cock yet. Give you time to warm up so that I know what you like or don't like. Allow yourself some time to adjust to me. Is that all right?" 

"Foreplay, you mean." 

"Yes, exactly," he said with a throaty chuckle while smirking sultrily against her skin. "Do you think that you can wait for me?" 

"Yes," she breathed, her nipples straining against her silk red dress as he danced his fingers down her ribcage to the dip of her hips and teased along the hem of her dress. "I think I can." 

"Good girl." 

Hermione whimpered at his praise for her, her white lace knickers ruined, coating her inner thighs as she tried to wriggle her hips to make his hands go where she needed them to go.

"I need a safe word, Granger," he told her, skimming the pad of his fingers along the top of her thighs, teasing her. "For when you're not comfortable with whatever I'm going to do. I won't force you to do anything you're not comfortable with." 

"Hippogriffs," she blurted out, the first thing coming forth to the front of her dizzying, mushed mind. 

Seriously? Nothing better? Bloody hell, she was losing it tonight.

Whoever he was made a strangled, weak noise of protest by her ear. She arched a sharp brow under her blindfold as she heard him swear delicately under his breath but quickly covered it with a clear of his throat as though he had just slipped up about something he shouldn't have.

"Hippogriffs then," he tightly said in a strained voice. What was the big deal?

"Yes." 

"All right," he took a deep breath with such force her body moved backwards with his chest. "I also make you a promise." 

Hermione wanted to scream in protest, jutting her hips, hoping that he would stop talking and just fucking touch her already. "What's that?" 

"From now on," he pressed both of his hands into her inner thighs, spreading them apart to drape over his legs. She gasped as the cold air hit her drenched knickers. "I'm only yours. No other witch will touch me. Can you make the same promise to me?" 

"Yes," she whispered, rolling her hips to meet his right hand beginning to drift up along her inner thigh to where she wanted him in a painfully slow teasing tickle. "I swear." 

"Mine," he hissed into her ear, his voice deep and with a predatory warning.

"Yours. All yours, I promise, sir." 

"Fuck," he swore in a grave whisper, one hand covering her mound as his other came back to wrap around her throat. "I expect you to call me that from now on." 

Hermione smirked wickedly more to herself than to him, as she felt him hard, hot, and long beneath his trousers, pressed up against her lower back. "Until I know your name, of course." 

"You'll have to earn it first, Granger," he breathed her scent in deeply, kissing and sucking along her jawbone. "I don't think that you're ready to know who I am yet." 

"Why?" She whined, dropping the back of her head to his shoulder. If he could just move his finger a bit lower...

He took his time answering her as he finally dragged his long middle finger from her covered entrance up her soaking wet slit to her clit. A loud moan pulled from the back of Hermione's throat, arching her back as he did it again and gave her lace-covered clit three perfectly pressured circles. 

"Because," he moaned heavily into the crook of her neck, flattening his skilled velvet tongue as he licked a stripe up her hammering vein. "You haven't earned it yet. Fuck, you're dripping for me."

Hermione's head was spinning with pleasure, tingling from the top of her head all the way down to her curling toes. Her stranger was everywhere, scorching her skin into euphoria. His chest firmly squashed against her back, the heat of his body caging her in like a comforting, protective hug. His tongue, wet and warm, left his mark in his wake into her flesh as he switched between biting and sucking at different pleasurable pain levels. His skilled fingers worked her clit in rhythmic circles, switching between fast and slow to prolong her orgasm. His hand on her throat, squeezing around her pulse at a pressure that wasn't enough to hurt but enough to show her who was in control. He was dominant, whoever he was, taking full control of what she needed, listening to each hitch in her breath or if her moans got softer or louder with his movements.

Exactly what she had come here for in the first place. For someone to take control of the reins and show her new things.

"Oh," she keened, between short, panting breaths. "Fuck, just like that." 

"Do you think that you can come like this?" He panted with her, grinding his hard cock along her lower back. "Just with my fingers touching your clit?" 

Hermione nodded vigorously, her lips parted into an O as she rolled her hips to meet his wonderful hand. He slapped her clit as a punishment, sending a delicious shock of tingling pleasure up her spine to the base of her skull as she gasped in a breathless groan. 

"Speak, otherwise you'll leave here without me letting you come tonight." He growled into her ear, giving her throat a warning squeeze. 

"Yes! Yes, I can! Just don't stop!" Hermione begged, canting her hips up to urge him to continue.

"That's more like it," he chuckled darkly into her curls by her temple, pressing his thumb back to her clit as he changed his pace to a much faster movement. "You have no idea how beautiful you look right now. Grinding your pretty pussy against my hand." 

Hermione was desperate to touch him, her body flooding with heat at the authoritative, approving tone of his voice. Her hands sought purchase, bound together, restricting her access to touch him. Her orgasm was fast approaching, rolling through her insides like a giant tidal wave spreading across her pelvic bone on the cusp of exploding as she moaned and writhed so loudly she was certain other guests or staff could hear her from down the halls.

"I'm going to take care of you, darling," he promised around a throaty moan of his own, hooking his ankle around hers to spread her wider for him and bending her leg up with his. "I promise. I'll make you feel so good; no other man will compare." 

"Faster," Hermione begged, almost crying, wishing she could see him to see what he looked like.

Were his lips parted too? Did he look as flustered in his cheeks as she felt? Did he too have a bead of sweat on his brow as she did? She wanted to know so badly; she was desperate to know who this gorgeous man was who knew her body better than herself just from her reactions to his touch.

The man switched tactics, and instead of circles, he pressed his thumb harder to her clit and rubbed from side to side, knowing what she needed without her telling him. 

"Fuck," he dropped his forehead to her shoulder, his hand falling away to cup around her full breast, rolling her nipple between his forefinger and thumb over the top of her dress, making her whine. "You're going to make me come in my boxers like a pathetic thirteen-year-old." 

Hermione tried her hardest to reach her fingers to his cock, grinding along her back in quick thrusts matching his thumb strokes along her clit. But no matter how much she tried to adjust her hands, she couldn't fucking reach him to touch him back.

"Do you want to come with me, sir?" She purred, around a mewl holding her orgasm back that was close to gushing. 

"Not yet," he panted, his hot, damp breath against her jaw. "This is all for you. I need you to come, Granger. Please, please come for me. You've earned it for being so good for me." 

Hermione came with a loud cry, collapsing boneless against him as he helped her ride it out, slowing down his glorious thumb. Electricity tingled from her spine down to the tips of her toes as she came down from one of the best orgasms that no man had ever been able to entice from her just from his thumb and without even slipping his fingers into her knickers. She panted, catching up with her racing breaths as she felt his chest rising and falling rapidly with hers and removed his hand away from her knickers. He kissed her sweaty temple and shuffled back away from her to move off the bed. 

Hermione held back the whimper at the loss of his warmth as she fidgeted to set her hands free when she felt him slide his hands around her waist and help her to stand on her trembling knees. Being gentle, he rolled her dress back down to where it rested mid-thigh and pressed one finger under her chin, lifting her head. 

"You were wonderful tonight," he murmured, his soft lips brushing along the corner of her mouth. "Do you think that you can wait another week for me?" 

"No," she pouted, rubbing her wrists together behind her back, wishing she could see his eyes that she could feel burning into her face. "I don't think that I can." 

He chuckled. He was smirking, she could tell as he pressed a long, intimate kiss to her forehead. "I think you can. Just have to be a little bit patient, sweetheart."

Hermione wasn't ready for this to end. How could she spend all weekend alone thinking about him, trying to imagine what colour eyes he has, the shape of his bone structure, the tone of his skin, and his hair colour, and then go to work Monday morning and face her mortal enemy she despised? She didn't think that she had it in her to wait another seven days, but she'd made this agreement. She'd signed the contract. She'd known what she was getting into before he'd stepped into the room an hour ago.

Patience and a whole buttload of willpower to get through the next week with idiots and a ferret that was sure to rile her up until she would be threatening to hex his balls off. 

"You'll be blindfolded and tied up before I arrive at seven and released when I leave." His voice grew fainter as he backed away from her. "You won't see my face or hear my real voice until you're ready. For now, only I and Miss Parkinson know who I am. Get some sleep; you deserve it after being so good."

"But-" Hermione didn't get to finish her protest as she heard the subtle snap of disapparition cracking in front of her. The ties and binds fell away to the floor, crumpling around her bare feet. The sudden light from the low-lit candles floating in the air blinded her eyes as she adjusted from being in the darkness for so long. 

She frowned as she lowered her hand away from her face, skimming the area of her room for any clues on her mystery man.

Nothing.

He'd left nothing for her to work out some clues on who this wonderful man was.

Even the bottle and glass he had drunk from were gone from the table.

Although she was disappointed about not knowing who he was and the possibility of never finding out, she still left the underground hotel of Pansies with a skip in her step and less pent-up sexual tension in her bones, which was sure to be ruined come Monday morning at the sight of the insufferable Draco sodding Malfoy. 

Monday-

"Morning." 

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the monotone drawl of Malfoy sauntering into her office with his cocky swagger. 

"Morning." She lifted her gaze from the new murder case that Kingsley had handed to her this morning to look at the clock on her desk. "You're late. Again." 

"My apologies," he drawled, dropping himself down into his desk angled to the right of hers without a hint of an apology anywhere in there. "I was rather tied up this morning." 

"Let me guess," Hermione droned while jotting down notes about the victim. "You overslept again. Or you couldn't get your hair perfect, or your house-elves didn't press your robes down as you like them to. Blah, blah, blah, Malfoy. I've heard your lame excuses before."

He sneered at the side of her face. "Someone's in a foul mood this morning, considering you look like you've had a thrilling weekend."

Hermione paused her quill on her next note at the accusing way he said it.

She sidelong glanced at him, her heart somersaulting in her chest as he pinned her with his molten glare. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

Malfoy's lips tipped up into a manipulative grin as he dropped his eyes, glittering with amusement, down to her exposed neck from her ponytail.

"Aren't there rules for coming to work with mouth-shaped bruises on your neck, Granger?" He lifted an obnoxious pale brow.

Crap! I forgot to cover them up; no wonder everyone was eyeballing me on my way in this morning! Hermione internally groaned at herself in frustration as her cheeks flooded with embarrassment.

They weren't small either. Her mystery bloke had left deep, dark purple bruises the size of grapes on her flesh, extending from her ear down to her collarbone, with one also on the underside of her jaw.

Perfect, just bloody brilliant. He wasn't going to shut up about this for days now. Another thing that he could use against her to make her miserable when he would grow bored.

"Yes, I had fun," she asserted confidently as she shuffled her papers together. "Not that it's any business of yours of what I get up to in my free time."

Malfoy snorted an ignorant noise, sweeping his pale eyes over her full of judgement. "Who would have the stomach to touch you?" 

And just like that, her spine shrunk as she sneered at him, her confidence knocking like a crumbling mountain. "You're a spineless and spiteful person, Malfoy." 

"It was a bloody joke!" 

"Didn't sound like it to me!" 

"Oh, grow a backbone, Granger," he twisted his mouth up into an ugly scowl. "Don't take everything that I say to heart. Merlin's saggy tits, you're so sensitive you make me sick." 

"You make me sick." She stood up, planting her hands on her desk as she kicked her chair back, glowering down at him. "I hate working with you. You don't do anything but belittle and criticise me simply because you've got nothing better to do!" 

"Please," he batted his dark blonde lashes at her, innocently placing a fake hand to his heart. "You wound me." 

"And you infuriate me." She slapped the papers down on his desk with enough force to make him flinch away. His smirk faltered briefly as he stared up at her with an emotion she couldn't quite understand. He'd always been a difficult man to read, and she could never quite see beneath his mask of his true feelings. "At least the man I met with over the weekend talked to me like I'm a normal human being. Wanted to touch me and make me feel good. You, on the other hand, are so pathetically lonely it's almost comical. It's no wonder you don't have a witch on your arm yet, given your foul attitude towards women." 

Malfoy's hackles rose as he flared his nostrils, narrowing his eyes into thin slits. "If you must know, Granger. I do have a witch who is perfectly happy with me catering to her needs. So put that sickle in where the sun doesn't shine and get your facts right first." 

"Poor woman," Hermione sarcastically smiled, clicking her tongue, eyeing him slowly in disdain. "I hope you blindfold her or she is at least blind so she doesn't have to look at your face." 

"You're a right fucking snide bitch when you want to be, aren't you?" Malfoy forced through clenched angry teeth.

Hermione wasn't sure if she had ever seen him so flushed and pink in the face before, but it was amusing as she observed the way the tips of his ears turned pink, his hands clenched tightly around his desk until his knuckles were straining white close to flipping it, and his breaths aggressive through his tight jaw. 

She wanted to laugh at the fact that she had managed to raise the upper hand already for the first time since he had become her partner. But she held back, pressing her lips flat and her laughter in her throat where it belonged. 

"Now you know how it feels when someone isn't very nice to you, don't you?" She whispered hotly, matching his intense glare. 

He grunted as his eye twitched with hot irritation as though he was holding something back, wanting to say something that he didn't dare to. More than likely another insult, knowing him.

Hermione grew bored as she rolled her eyes and stepped away from his desk, snapping her fingers at the papers in front of him. "Get reading, then meet me in the conference room in two minutes. We've got another murder to solve." 

With as much confidence as she could muster, Hermione strode out of their office with her dark Auror robes billowing behind her straight down towards the conference room to meet with her team. Casting a quick glamour charm over her purple love marks, she strode into the room with a bright charming smile and commanded her team to sit so that she could get started on their next case. 

On time and with the warmest, albeit fakest, smile on his handsome, chiselled face. Malfoy joined her, sweeping his long white-blonde fringe away from his eyes, and leaned his hip up against the desk, crossing his strong arms over his chest. As she talked with her team, she noticed that he was watching her as Hermione debriefed the notes she had on the murder case with a predatory dark look in his eyes, side-smirking at her as though he knew something that she clearly didn't.

Hermione's thoughts kept drifting to the man who had made her feel wanted and desired on Friday night, despite the distraction and tension caused by his persistent stare. It was all that she had been able to think about all weekend, grinning to herself like she was a schoolgirlwith her first crush.

Who was he? That was the first thing that she was determined to find out.

Malfoy didn't insult her for the rest of the day.

Chapter Text

"So come on then, spill. Who's the lucky bastard?" 

Hermione paused her glass of water at her mouth, tilting her head at Theo, who was sitting across from her in the canteen of St. Mungo's, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "Pardon?" 

Theo tapped his neck twice around his pulse point, then pointed towards Hermione, wiggling his brows suggestively at her.

Her hand immediately came up to hide them, a hot flush spreading like wildfire across her cheeks. They were faded now, of course, after a week, but they were still there in a slightly lighter greenish colour, and she'd done well to keep them hidden all week.

"Who is he? Unless you're a master at bending your neck so far down to do it yourself or use a newly invented charm, there has to be a bloke involved to leave those monsters there." 

"I don't kiss and tell," she prissily said, picking her wand up from the table and replacing the glamour charms that had begun to wear off. 

"Oh please!" He whined, pressing his hands together like Oliver asking for more food. "I've been so good this month and haven't set fire to anyone. Yet."

Hermione shook her head, neatly scraping some salmon and a piece of tomato onto the back of her fork. "No. It's confidential. I can't. Sorry."

"Confi—"

It took approximately several seconds for it to dawn on him as he gave her the most zoned-out expression she'd ever seen on his adorable face. Hermione slowly chewed her food, watching the buffer sign swirl around, floating above his head as he scratched at his temple like his brain was loading, just as her laptop did whenever her WiFi dropped signal at home. 

"Wait," Theo wrinkled his nose as his ocean blue eyes began to grow wider and wider as he managed to work it out. "Are you telling me that you went to Pansies over the weekend?" 

He missed nothing, did he? Fine, I suppose he can know a few details.

"I did," she grinned with strong confidence. 

His jaw dropped low as he blinked at her like she had three heads. "Kinky lion. I never would have pegged you for stepping into that place for a shag with a stranger!"

"Keep your voice down." Hermione kicked him in the shin under the table, giving the canteen at St. Mungo's a quick scan for any earwigs. 

Thankfully nobody heard Theo's big mouth. Good, she didn't have to kill him today. 

"There was no need for violence," Theo pouted in pain, rubbing at his shin. "Evil witch." 

Hermione rolled her eyes as she took a refreshing long pull of her ice-cold water. "I didn't shag, either." 

"Isn't that the whole point of going?" 

"Yes," she said. "But my Dom wants to take it slow. He got me off instead." 

Theo made a face of disapproval as he tore off the tiger bread crust of his BLT sandwich. "Care to share how?" 

"Absolutely not." 

"Damn it. Worth a shot." 

"Have you been?" She asked, closing the lid on her finished lunch and sipping slowly on her water. 

"I've been a few times," he said. "Perks of being besties with Pansy: I get in for free. How much did she charge you?" 

"Not a single galleon," Hermione chuckled at the surprising rise of his brows. "He's paying for it instead. Pansy told me that he greatly insisted that I not dent a single ounce of gold in my vault. 70,000 galleons for the suite, food, champagne, toys, and the whole lot. And that's just for one night. Which I feel was wasted because we didn't touch any of it."

"So he's rich then?" He asked with a saucy grin stretching his face. 

"Mhmm. And that's just for one night. Merlin knows how much he's willing to spend for our second. I feel guilty that he's refusing to let me chip in. This is, after all, for my benefit after my divorce to have some casual fun."

Theo nodded, shredding his sandwich into messy pieces. "Does he at least look cute or sexy to match his rich exterior?" 

"I don't know." 

"How can you not know? You saw him, didn't you?" 

"No," she shrugged both shoulders smoothly. "The deal was that I don't know who he is. Only Pansy knows. I haven't even heard his real voice yet." 

"I am so confused." Theo shook his head boggled as he propped his fist under his chin. "So you go to Pansy, get booked in to have some 'fun,' but now you're telling me you don't know what he looks like?" 

"It's what I said, is it not?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she retrieved her handheld mirror from her pocket and reapplied her strawberry-flavoured lip gloss. 

"No need to be snarky, princess," Theo clipped, nudging his foot into her shin under the table. He ignored her eyes rolling. "Can you at least give me some clues? Maybe I'll know who he is." 

"Please, Theo," Hermione snorted, using her pinky to clean the edge of her lips. "I'm the brightest witch of my age, and even I can't figure out who he can possibly be. He was careful with how he answered my questions."

"Go on," he challenged, interlocking his hands behind his head with a cocky grin. "Give me something." 

Hermione—making sure no one could hear her—explained it all to Theo. What she had asked him and how he had answered carefully with riddling answers. He nodded along, tipping his head towards the ceiling and pursing his lips in thought. He, just as she was, looked as though he didn't have the foggiest idea who her stranger was. She conveniently left out the part about Hippogriffs as her safe word. Hermione was already thinking about changing it to something better, due to embarrassment that it was the first thing that had come to her mind in that moment. 

No. She had something better in her brain for a safe word. Besides, she didn't want to be thinking about sweet old Buckbeak during sexual activities, especially now that Harry had him back in a hut out in the back garden of 12 Grimmauld Place. He was, in a strange way, part of their family now.

Old and retired after Sirius had died, Buckbeak had been searching for Harry for years and made himself at home several years ago and never left them since. It was a shame Malfoy wasn't included in their friend group as Theo was. She'd love to see the look on his face if he would ever join birthdays or games night at Grimmauld just to see the bird he'd antagonised in third year lounging in the back garden snacking on ferrets all day. 

The thought alone was enough to cause a smirk to break out on her mouth.

"Sounds like you've got a complicated puzzle to solve." Theo sucked some air through his teeth, gathered up his rubbish, and chucked it in the bin closest to them. 

"I like puzzle solving, so I don't actually mind," she said, standing with him as she gathered up her notes she had been working on but pinned him with a serious warning look. "But please, keep this to yourself. I wasn't even supposed to tell you. Don't tell a soul; this stays between us. Not to Malfoy, Pansy, Ginny, or Harry." 

"Don't worry, I won't," Theo tutted, giving her a quick hug and a kiss to the top of her head. "Are you coming to James's birthday tomorrow?" 

"Of course I am," she said as she pulled away and slung her bag over her shoulder. "He is my godson." 

Theo grinned at her as he pulled on his lime green healer robes again. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Bye." Hermione departed from him as she made her way to the floo network. 

Calling out to the Ministry once she arrived, the lime green flames engulfed her, and she wound her way through the bustling busy main level. She smiled, waved, and said a few quick hellos to people in passing as she got to the lifts. Hermione moved to the back, pressing level two, and grabbed onto the handle as it shunted and took her up. 

Stepping out, she made her way back to her office with her heels click-clacking on the tiles, nodding her head at her colleagues on her way past. When she got to her door, she took a deep breath, knowing who was sitting on the other side, grasped the handle, and entered her office with the kindest professional smile she could manage.

"Maddison's Autopsy," Malfoy slapped down a file onto Hermione's desk before she had even passed the threshold with his tone clipped. "We've just gotten it back." 

Smile and grit it, Hermione.

"Cause of death?" She asked, removing her outer robes and revealing her tight, light grey pencil skirt with a slit at the back and a buttoned-down white square-neckline blouse. 

"Aside from the stab wound to her neck, they found bloodroot poisoning in her system," Malfoy replied with a strangled noise.

Furrowing her brows at his reaction, she turned her head over her shoulder to see what was wrong. She caught him with his eyes glued to her backside, pink in the cheeks and brows disappearing into his hairline. It startled her to see him staring at her like that, admiring her actually, as she watched him drag his eyes down to her calves and back up to the zip in her skirt. Just watching him checking her out sent an uncomfortable tingle up her spine. 

It felt unnatural to be checked out by a man such as Malfoy himself. Mainly because there wasn't an insult followed by it, as he usually did whenever he eyed her choice of style. This time, however, he appeared thoroughly gobsmacked. 

Hermione cleared her throat loudly. Malfoy shot his eyes up to hers, his features blanking out into a mask of indifference with his hands comfortably clasped across his stomach. If he was embarrassed that she had caught him, he didn't show it as he sat there like a king in his chair at his desk.

"Any suspects yet?" 

"The husband," he smoothly said. "According to Maddison's sister, he was quite abusive to her throughout their five years of marriage." 

"Why did no one report it?" She asked as she sat down at her desk, opening the autopsy report and crossing her leg over her knee.

"I interviewed Emma this morning, on her side of the story," he said, handing her his notes. "Maddison made it perfectly clear that she didn't want anyone to interfere. I suppose she just hoped that he would stop beating her and love her in the end."

Hermione nodded, pressing her lips into concentration as she read through the notes. "Narcissistic." 

"My thoughts exactly. With her husband, however, we can't find him. Rumours are that he had a mistress on the side. I expect he's done a runner with her somewhere untraceable." 

"All right," Hermione massaged her forehead tiredly. "Then we should gather the team up for a meeting to send out a search party for him. Leave no stone unturned, the usual." She handed his notes back to him and stood up, tucking the autopsy under her arm, waiting for him to follow.

Malfoy stayed right where he was in his chair, refusing to get up.

Hermione's eyes narrowed impatiently. "Aren't you coming?" 

"Aren't you going to open your gift that you conveniently missed?" He pointed towards the box wrapped up in silver wrapping paper and a dark blue silk bow on her desk by the picture of her, Theo, and Charlie together at Ginny and Harry's wedding six years ago.

Hermione didn't even notice it as she looked down and saw a folded-up card attached to it addressed to her. Sitting herself back down, she ignored the way Malfoy was watching her intently and unfolded it. A bashful smile tugged at the corners of her mouth at the little message written in neat penmanship about tonight. 

A little gift for tonight. 

I had this specially made for you thanks to the wonderful Miss Parkinson's fashionable talents. She informed me that red was your favourite colour. I hope you like strawberries dipped in chocolate, Miss Granger.

I look forward to seeing you wearing this in front of me.

Signed-

Your Friday Night Suitor. 

Hermione, however eager and greedy she wanted to be to rip the bow off, took her time opening it up as she placed the card down on her desk to keep it. Removing the lid, she unfolded the baby pink tissue paper inside and gasped at her gift. 

Inside, neatly folded and pressed down, was a deep dark red-coloured dress. She wanted to unfold it and take it out to have a proper look at the design. Just from her view, she could already see that it was strapless, the chest stretched and sculpted to fit her breast size perfectly, but not with Malfoy sitting there watching her. 

It was none of his business. 

"Thank you for telling me," Hermione closed the lid to the box and slipped it into her drawer, locking it with a key so that he couldn't be nosey in it. 

"Judging by that rosey blush, I'm going to take a stab and say that someone has an admirer," he chuckled with a click of his tongue. 

"So what if I have?" 

"Not judging," he raised both hands in surrender, his smirk broadening. "It's just nice not to see you scowl or glare or pout that bottom lip of yours in one of your tempers for a change." 

"I only pull those faces because I have to put up with you on a daily basis." Hermione's eyes rolled as she stood up and crossed the room, throwing on her outer robes again. 

"If that was supposed to be an insult, I can assure you that it didn't work as well as you hoped." 

Hermione rolled her eyes again at the smugness in his voice, turned around, and buttoned up her robes. "Did you...see him by any chance? Drop it off, I mean."

Malfoy shook his head as he stood up, straightening his tie as a conniving smirk began to form. "Unfortunately not. It came by owl whilst you were at lunch with Theo. I, however, would have had great pleasure in warning him off from you. Poor guy doesn't know what type of witch he's dealing with." 

Hermione's features twisted into an infuriated scowl as she stormed towards the door and wrenched it open in her prickly temper. 

"You're a foul git, Malfoy!" Her high shout bounded off the ministry walls as she strode down the hallway. 

Draco snorted amusingly, giving her desk, where his gift to her was hidden, a proud glance. "I won't be later, Granger. Just you wait and see." 

"You're playing a very dangerous game, Draco," Pansy said in a grave voice as he entered through the back of the hotel and chucked a hefty sum of galleons in front of her. She wanted to give it back, but what would be the point? He'd only give it back again.

"I like a challenge every now and again," he leaned up on her large white marble desk with his elbow, accepting the key card from her and keeping it secure in his breast pocket. "Is she here?" 

"She got here a few minutes before you." She leaned back in her swivel business chair, crossing her pale leg over her other, giving him a wicked grin. "She loves her dress." 

"I know. I was in the room when she opened it."

Pansy twirled a lock of her raven hair around her slim finger. "What are you hoping to gain out of this? She can't stand you. Do you know how badly she talks of you whenever I see her? You're already walking on thin ice with this witch." 

"I don't know," he pretended to sweep some imaginary dust off her desk as his smirk slipped off his face into something sad. "A second chance, maybe. You said that I should do it."

Pansy nodded, watching the guilt flood his eyes. Leaning forwards, she placed a delicate hand over his. "Just be careful, yeah? I don't want to see you get hurt when she realises it's you. And only because you wouldn't let anyone else get close to her. You left me no alternative."

"Please," he scoffed, although there was an underlining hint of uncertainty. "I'm a big boy. I can handle a rejection." 

"Hm," she hummed, disagreeing with that fact. "Have you told the others about what you're up to?" 

"No," Draco's gaze narrowed as he pointed at her face. "And I expect you to keep it shut. Theo has a big mouth on him when it comes to me. He's best friends with her. He'd tell her otherwise." 

Pansy made a zipping motion across her sharp red lips. "I won't say a word. Although you could have gone about this a whole lot differently. Or you know," she clicked her tongue sarcastically as she shuffled some contracts together. "Actually be nice to her at work." 

Draco glared at her. "I'm working on it. I can't help it unless she can't see me. Now can I go? She's waiting for me." 

With a flippant wave of her hand, Pansy dismissed him, shaking her head in disbelief as he walked off, double-checking his cuff links to his dark grey three-piece suit he'd chosen to wear. Smart but casual, it wasn't as though she was going to see it anyway. Taking a long, deep breath in through his nose, Draco pressed his wand to his throat to alter his voice to a much deeper masculine level, with a hint of Theo's and his own voice mixed in together. 

A simple spell he'd learnt during the war. While he wasn't keen on the idea of speaking in Theo's half voice, it was good enough for her to not recognise it completely, mixing the two together to create an accent that only the Royal Family spoke in. Luckily, Theo had a bit more of a Northern London accent to throw her off the scent. She hadn't picked up on it yet, and unless Theo came to him directly asking why a man she was seeing sounded like him, then he was safe for now. 

Perhaps it would all go to shit when he was ready to reveal his identity. But when someone hates you as much as Granger does, despite how long you've admired her, and you feel something that you've never felt before, it is easier to hide than to tell the truth. 

All he wanted was a chance to get to know who she was when she seemed inclined to keep herself to herself and only talk about work with him. For her in return for him. 

He'd jumped on the opportunity when he'd visited Pansy later that afternoon and she'd told him Granger had come by looking for some casual meaningless fun. It was the perfect opportunity to be alone with her, where there were no distractions, not just for the sex but to learn more about her. To get to know her properly, but alterations had to be set in place to avoid jumping down each other's throats. He enjoyed working with her, but trying to have a civil conversation always ended in an argument no matter how hard he tried to just be himself. 

That bratty part of him often slipped out before he could stop it. It was fun, though sometimes, to watch her get worked up when they did argue. To watch her pupils darken and dilate and her nostrils flare. Her cheeks have that flush of that beautiful shade of pink, highlighting her dark freckles. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't often thought about bending her over his desk or hers and fucking the attitude out of her when her snotty mouth would get too far out of control.

He'd been super close to doing just that on Monday for her insult about his treatment of women. Although he was sure that if he tried that, he'd earn a punch. Or a hex. Or maybe even fired from his position.

Draco just wished that he wasn't so much of a coward as he was right now and would just show himself. 

He couldn't do it. 

Not yet.

"I'll see you at your funeral, Draco," Pansy snorted incredulously to herself, whipping out a new contract for the next gentleman waiting. "Next!" 

"You're wearing my gift, I see." 

Hermione sat up straighter on the bed, right leg crossed over her knee, with her hands already bound behind her back. "I am. Do you like it?" 

"I can't see it all," he said with a throaty chuckle as she listened to his footsteps get closer to her. 

True to his word, as soon as she'd sat down on the bed, the blindfold and binds had automatically set themselves around her eyes and wrists. She was tempted next week to stand in a different area just to test if they would do the same thing.

"Stand up." 

Hermione flattened her hands behind her on the bed as best as she could and pushed herself up to stand. It was a neat little dress. Backless and off-the-shoulder style with an open back right down to her lower back, stopping at the dimples of her spine, and the hem, which was snug around her curves, stopped itself just above her knees. But it was an elegant design, something simple and nothing too revealing that she couldn't wear to dinner. 

"Spin for me," he commanded silkily, and she could tell that he was spinning his finger in the air.

Hermione, being careful since she couldn't see a damn thing, did a small slow twirl for him, letting him admire every inch of her. A smile tipped at the edges of her lips when he gave a low whistle as she turned back around; at least she thinks she's facing him again. 

"Wow," he breathed breathlessly as though he were stunned. "You look absolutely breathtaking." 

"Thank you, sir." She said. 

"Did you miss me?" His voice, a sexy low whisper, was suddenly right by her ear as she felt the back of his hands glide down her arms. 

"Mhm," Hermione nodded, her breath hitching as he gently took her hands in his and began walking her away from the bed. "It's been the longest week of my life. Although I've been a bit careless, sir, I will admit."

"How so?" He asked, his hands hot on her waist, and turned her, then tugged her down. Hermione's brows furrowed as she sat down on something a bit harder but warmer. Then it occurred to her that she was sitting on one of his thighs. 

"I may or may not have forgotten my concealment charms for the marks you left last week on me." 

"Bad girl," he tutted disapprovingly, giving her hip a squeeze. "What did we say about keeping this confidential?" 

Hermione couldn't stop the gulp that sounded loudly in her throat as she felt something cold like a ring drag down the centre of her spine. "I didn't tell anyone, I promise." 

Liar, you told, Theo.

"Who's Theo?" He asked with a disappointed edge to his tone, giving her hip another squeeze, enticing a sharp gasp from her.

Crap, was he seriously using legilimency on her without her even realising it? Well, bugger her up and call her a useless gnome. She hadn't mastered the use of Occlumency as well as Harry could. She'd better be careful about what she thinks about from now on or just stop telling Theo everything. 

"I didn't tell him everything," she quickly clarified. "Well...not the safe word part anyway. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. But he can be trusted. He's gay and really sweet; he's one of my bestest friends. I look at him more like a brother, really, and he just wanted to know, since he comes here too, but I promise that I will never speak of it again to him or anyone. You have my word."

Her stranger didn't say anything for the longest time after she stopped rambling and sucked in a huge lungful of oxygen. She held her breath waiting for him to say something as she could feel his disapproving glare burning into the back of her head. A bead of anxious sweat began to form on her brow. He'd gone incredibly tense behind her; she could feel it in the way his thigh muscles were clenched. Fuck her stupid mouth for buggering it up and forgetting the charms. If she hadn't forgotten them, then Theo wouldn't have even batted an eyelid. 

"Well," he finally spoke again, making her jolt as he sounded pissed off. "I must say that I'm highly disappointed, Granger. We had a deal to keep this private between me, you, and Miss Parkinson." 

"I know, I'm sorry, sir." Despite her feeling guilty, she couldn't stop the smirk appearing on her face, wondering how he was going to punish her for it. 

"I suppose a punishment is in order for you."

Her smirk grew wider, hoping that he couldn't see it. She wriggled her hips, her knickers already soaking in anticipation. 

"No," he pushed her off his lap and spun her around so quickly she lost balance. He caught her, of course, before she fell by her arms and tugged her forwards until she could feel the heat of his thighs caging either side of hers. "After your stunt at breaking our deal, you don't get to come tonight as punishment." 

The smirk soon slid off of her face as she frowned in disappointment. "Oh? What do you want me to do instead then?" 

A devilish challenge was in his voice when he next spoke. "You can make me come instead." 

Her brows crinkled together. "But I thought you said—" 

"I changed my mind." His fingers gripped at her shoulder, and he pushed down, lowering her to the soft fluffy carpet until her knees hit the floor. "From now on, every time you break a rule in our contract, you don't get to come, but I do. Fair?" 

Hermione held back the whimper in her throat. "I suppose I can deal with that." 

"There's no suppose about it," he said, tone clipped. "Either yes, no, or leave and don't come back and end it here. Your choice. I'm good either way, Golden Girl."

Her teeth itched at hearing that nickname. She hated it with a passion. It's all she's heard since the end of the war, and everyone seemed to refer to her as the Golden Girl. 

"You're different compared to last week," she whispered. 

"How so?" 

"I don't know," she shrugged, her pulse jumping as she heard his zipper roll down. "You don't seem as gentle as last week. Angry." 

"Did you read subsection B in the contract, Granger?" 

Hermione nodded after a moment of thinking it over thoroughly. "Dominance of my chosen partner means that they can be soft or controlling depending on the mood of the evening or actions taken beforehand from the sub if they misbehave to their dom." She recited word for word. "Yes, I remember." 

His fingers curled around her jaw, lifting her head an inch as she felt his lips a breath away from hers as he explained in a much sweeter and gentler tone. "It's just role-playing, Granger. I'm not going to do anything to hurt you or anything that you're not comfortable with. While naturally I am a bit miffed that you broke our deal, if you say this Theo is trustworthy, then I believe you. Okay? You have a safe word. The minute you say it, the night comes to an end, and we both go to our separate homes until the following week." 

"So you're just being mean because—" 

"It's part of the act, yes. That's what being a dom is. You stepped out of line; given that you're a sub, you're to take your punishment like one. I've already read your list that you gave to Miss Parkinson about what you like or don't or wish to experiment with in bed. I already know that you like to suck cock; that's why I suggested it." 

"I do," she licked her lips hungrily, her mouth salivating to taste him. 

"Then be a good girl for me and suck mine." His tone turned bitter again, more authoritative and controlling. His hand moved from her jaw to the base of her curls as he fisted them and pulled her forwards. A soft moan rumbled at the back of her throat as he helped her position herself up higher on her knees, angling her head the way he wanted her to until she felt the tip of him nudge at her lips. 

"Can't I use my hands? I like using my hands when I suck." She asked, wriggling her tightly bound wrists together behind her back. 

"No." He sharply replied. "Now open that pretty mouth up for me." 

Hermione obeyed, parting her lips, letting her tongue stick out, ready at the edge of her lower lip. Her eyes went alarmingly wide when the head of his cock pressed down on her tongue and slowly slid in. He was...big. 

Bigger than she had expected him to be, as the girth of him seemed to stretch her mouth wider as she relaxed her mouth muscles and allowed him to push her head down until her nose pressed against the soft thatch of curls at the base of his cock. She choked, breathing deeply through her nose as she closed her lips around him, waiting for him to allow her to move her head.

"Fuck, your mouth's hot," he groaned from the pit of his chest, the sound of the back of his head connecting with the chaise. "Think you can suck if I let go without the use of your hands?" 

"Mhm," she managed to hum ever so slightly, tears filling her eyes already.

"That's my girl." He let go of her curls and kept his hands to himself. "Go on then. Suck." 

Hermione did as she was told and raised her head all the way back to his tip, dragging her tongue along the vein she could feel on the underside of him, earning a feral guttural moan from him in return. He tasted slightly salty as precum leaked on her tongue as she moved back down to his base. Hermione enjoyed the taste of him as she sucked him, relaxing her jaw, her throat, and her cheeks, hollowing them as she bobbed up and down, speeding up to a steady rhythm that had him moaning and groaning above her. 

He liked what she was doing. Thank goodness. 

The head of him hit the back of her throat over and over again, making her gag, but she didn't stop her methods. The sound of her wet mouth mixed in with his loud grunts, groans, and swear words as his hips began thrusting, meeting her stroke for stroke. Just the sounds he was making, losing control and writhing, had her dripping through her knickers and coating her thighs; she was desperate for some friction as she squeezed her thighs shut together.

"Fuck," he fisted her hair again, snapping his hips up harder; tears rolled down her face. "I'm gonna—where do you want it, Granger?" 

Hermione didn't bother to pull off to answer as she sucked him harder, desperate to feel him coat her tongue and swallow every last drop. 

"You want it down your throat?" He breathlessly asked, a smirk in his voice at the same time. 

Hermione nodded with a moaning hum as best as she could as she felt him twitch up to the roof of her mouth. He swore again, fisting her curls tighter between his fingers as he thrust up into her mouth three more times before he came with a rewarding strangled moan. She drank every last drop, draining him as she kept sucking, moaning at the feel of his cum coating her tongue. 

When he was spent, he gently tugged at her hair, lifting her off as he caught up with his heavy breaths, her mouth popping off wetly as she licked her lips and stuck her tongue out to show him that it was all gone. 

"Fuck, you were amazing," he praised her, still slightly breathless as he curled his fingers around her jaw, brushing his thumb along her lower lip. "You did such a good job. Have you learnt your lesson?" 

"Yes, sir," she smiled, wishing she could see if he was flushed in the face as she listened to him tuck himself back in and do his zip back up. 

"Good," he said, leaning in and kissing her cheek softly, hands on her waist, and lifted her up from the floor to stand, steadying her as she swayed on her numb knees. "Remember what we said?" 

"Don't tell a soul." 

"Exactly," he chuckled, tidying her hair up for her to cascade back down her back neatly, and pressed his lips to her forehead with a sweet, intimate brush of his lips. "Until next week, my angel." 

Was it seriously over already? She'd have to speak to Pansy about possibly extending this further because one hour didn't seem like enough time to spend time with him.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak as she felt him step away from her, but the sound of him apparating out of the room before she could forced her to clamp her mouth shut and frown in disappointment, with a small pout forming on her lips.

Once again, as soon as he was gone, the tie and binds fell away from her face and wrists, and just as before, as she adjusted to the blinding light, he'd left nothing behind to give her a clue on who he could be. 

Chapter Text

Saturday-

Chaos was an understatement of a word Hermione would use to describe it as she stepped into the front lounge of Grimmauld for James's birthday.

It looked to her like a bomb had exploded. Presents wrapped in blue foil were thrown about everywhere; in every nook and cranny Hermione could see. Streamers and confetti of all colours draped all of the furniture messily, with the food squashed into the carpets. The happy birthday banner was swinging down in the doorway that led towards the kitchen in a wonky way as though someone had half-heartedly pinned it up and then given up on the whole thing.

Ginny looked like she was in the middle of a mental breakdown, bright red in the face and tugging at the roots of her hair while yelling at Harry something about baby Lily missing. Harry, on the other hand, was searching in odd places in the room, looking in the cupboards, up on top of the fireplace, under the sofa, and inside the bloody piano.

And James well...he was as happy as Larry. Sitting there in his high chair, smashing up his toast into his tray, completely oblivious to his stressed-out parents bickering back and forth over the missing 1-month-old. A toothy grin stretched his face with his jet-black hair covered in...actually, Hermione didn't want to know what was in his hair.

Theo ran into Hermione's back as he came through the floo with an "oof" and then poked his head around her, taking a sweep of the mess, quirking a boggled brow. 

"What is going on here?" He asked her.

"I have no idea." Hermione raised her brows to her hairline as she stepped over the trip hazards towards her two friends yelling at one another. "Um, what's going on?" 

Ginny turned to face her, her messy bun bobbing from side to side as her eyes looked crazed. Hermione usually wouldn't, but she felt the need to take a step back out of the danger zone that was Ginny Potter. So she did.

"This idiot! That's what, Hermione!" She pointed an accusing finger at Harry. 

"Hey! How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?" Harry argued back, ducking down to look under the sofa again. 

"What's he done exactly?" Theo mused, picking the food out of James's hair for him.

Ginny launched herself to strangle Harry, but luckily Hermione got there and stopped her first, dragging her away from murdering her best friend. "He's lost Lily!" 

"No, I gathered that," Hermione said, worrying on her bottom lip. "My question is how?" 

Taking a long, deep breath to calm herself down, Ginny kept her murderous gaze over Hermione's shoulder at Harry. "He was a stupid idiot for wrapping Lily up in his invisibility cloak to rock her to sleep. He can't remember where he put her, or where she is, because due to its name, it's made her bloody invisible." 

"For goodness sake, Harry," Hermione scolded him as he dropped his eyes to the floor. "How long ago did you wrap her up?" 

"Uh," he laughed anxiously as he rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly. "About two hours ago." 

"Two?!" Hermione yelled. Okay, this was worse than she first thought. "Blimey, how could you be so irresponsible? She's a month old!" 

"Would everyone stop yelling at me?! I'm sorry, I'm exhausted! I was half asleep when I wrapped her up, and—can we just find my daughter? I'm scared I'm going to step on her." He said in a panicky voice, watching his feet on the floorboards like she was lurking about somewhere.

"Found her," Theo announced just as Hermione was about to cast a finite around the whole house.

As Theo lowered Lily, peacefully asleep, from the top of the chandelier with a steady leviosa charm, everyone exhaled loudly in relief. How she had gotten up there in the first place Hermione didn't have the faintest idea, but she concluded she must have kept moving by accident every time Harry or Ginny got close enough. Ginny snatched her out of Theo's hands, cradling her protectively to her chest while throwing the invisibility cloak at Harry's head, knocking his glasses flying in the process. 

"You're never swaddling her again until she can crawl!" Ginny angrily turned on her heel, baby in her arms, as she stomped up the stairs to put her in her cot. 

Harry collapsed to the ground on his back, dramatically throwing his arms over his eyes. 

"Are you all right down there?" Theo snickered, poking him in the ribs with the toe of his shoe. 

"Just leave me alone to come back from Hell. I'll be all right in an hour." Harry said in a defeated voice. 

Rolling his eyes at his dramatics, Theo looked up at Hermione, shrugging a loose shoulder at her. 

"Let's clean this up, shall we, and start again before everyone gets here?" Hermione suggested stepping over Harry as she dragged Theo to the kitchen and charmed the broom and dustpan to follow her. "You start on the food; call for takeoutif you have to. I'll clean up the mess in there." 

"Aye, aye, captain." Theo saluted her with two fingers, doing as she asked right away.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked the last guest to join the party that stepped through the floo which happened to be sodding Malfoy of all people. 

One who she wasn't expecting to show up or was aware had even been invited in the bloody first place. Did he even like kids? 

"I was invited," he smirked that annoying condescending one, dusting the soot off his expensive tight grey three-piece suit. "Problem with that?" 

Hermione huffed an irate breath, crossing her arms over her chest. "No." 

"Tell your face that," Malfoy chuckled a low laugh, eyeing the scowl on her face with amusement. "Don't worry, I won't pester you, if that's what you're worried about." 

"Good. Stay out of my way. I won't have you ruining my godson's birthday with your annoying mouth." 

Malfoy gave a low sarcastic whistle, eyeing her up. "Someone's grouchy. That time of the month, is it?" 

Oh, how she wanted to strangle him to death. Hex him until his eyes would bleed and string him upside down by his blinding polished shoes up on the roof with a sticking charm on his laces so that he couldn't escape. What a sight that would be, watching all of the blood rush to his head to the shade of a tomato.

Hermione drew in a long, patient breath. "Tell you what, why don't you go and check out the back garden and let me know what you think? Hmm? I'm sure you'll be thrilled to know what's waiting out there for you." 

At her sarcastic, threatening smirk, his humour slipped off his face. "What's that supposed to mean? It sounded like a threat." 

"No, no. No threat," she innocently folded her arms behind her back with a kitten smirk. "There's something out there that would be pleased to see you." 

"What?" His eyes narrowed in on her. He didn't trust her. 

Good, as well as he bloody well shouldn't.

Hermione only tapped the edge of her nose as she spun around on her heel, putting her back to him. She didn't realise how close she was standing to him, as the sound of her hair swatting across his eyes was music to her ears. Well, if he wanted to be a prat outside of work just as he was in it, then it was more than he deserved. She had more important things to deal with, which was James, who was ripping apart a present of a toy break with chocolate caked around his lips. 

"I wouldn't," Theo slid up beside him, making Draco jump. 

"Wouldn't what?" 

"Go outside as she suggested." He sniggered as he sipped on his butterbeer. 

"Why not?" His eyes rolled watching Granger coo and fuss over the mini Potter across the other side of the room. 

It tickled his insides in a dangerous way watching her run his fingers through his jet black hair. James reached up for her, opening and closing his fists, desperate for her to hold him. Draco's brain headed in another direction as he watched her lift him up into her arms and place him on her hip, doing a little bouncing dance, making the boy laugh with joy, which sounded like musical bells. 

Interesting.

He'd never pegged Granger to be the motherly type. It suited her actually, because it brought out a rare smile he'd never before seen on her face. The type of smile that caused her eyes to crinkle around the edges and glow like the sun on a fresh spring morning. His spine tingled, creeping around to his pelvis, as an image of her on her knees for him as she had last night with her lips around him while her belly would be swollen with his heir overtook his horny thoughts. 

He was dying for next Friday to come already. He wanted to taste her next. And he would.

Theo said something about a Hippogriff out in the back garden, but Draco wasn't really listening to him. He was too busy as he watched her spin mini Potter in her arms in a silly out-of-step waltz, picturing him lying down on that hotel bed and forcing her to sit on his face with his arms wrapped tight around her waist, forcing her to stay there until she would be shaking. He should stop really. 

A hard-on at a children's party was not exactly appropriate right now. Draco groaned lowly into his butterbeer as he sneakily adjusted his stance and tucked his aching cock into the waistband of his boxers to hide it. These trousers left nothing to the imagination. Would anyone notice if he snuck off to the bathroom to sort himself out? 

Probably not. Theo might; that little tosser noticed everything. And he should really stop looking at Granger with his tongue threatening to fall out of his mouth and pant because Theo was looking at the side of him strangely with a narrowed expression.

"Are you all right?" 

"Fine," Draco focused on a plain, boring spot on the wall instead, breathing much more heavily than he should be. Was it hot in here? It felt like it as his shirt clung to his moist back. He hadn't even touched her yet, and his skin was on fire.

"You're sweating. Are you coming down with something?" Theo said, eyeing his glistening skin.

"Nope," he gritted into his drink, side-eyeing his friend, hoping Theo would drop it and bugger off elsewhere. "Just a bit hot. That's all. Don't go all healer on me, Theo; I'm just splendid." 

Theo shrugged at his grumpy attitude, rolling his eyes as he left him to it, wandering over to Potter across the other side of the room yapping about the next Quidditch World Cup coming up in two months. Draco stayed right where he was in the shadows, observing the party. He had to stay here out of the way. Because if he didn't, then he was pretty positive that his throbbing, leaking cock was going to take over his brains and drag Granger to a bedroom and fuck her into a random mattress. 

He'd earn a punch for that, and he quite liked his face, thank you very much. Or maybe even a life sentence in Azkaban if he did that.

"Psst, Draco," Pansy whispered from the kitchen, popping her head in, making sure no one was looking at her while waving at him to get his attention. 

"What?" He mouthed, furrowing his brows.

Pansy waved her hand backwards to get him to join her as she vanished back into the kitchen. With a halfhearted sigh, he made sure no one was paying any attention to him and followed her. As soon as he entered, Pansy locked the door and cast a heavy silence charm, clicking her fingers at him bossily towards the long table to get him to sit down.

"What's up with you?" 

"Hermione came to me early this morning," she said as she sat herself down on the edge of the table, crossing her slim, toned ankles together. "She asked me to make a few adjustments to the contract." 

"Oh?" Now he was interested and no longer wishing he was at home as a grin stretched his lips. What ideas had the little witch got up her sleeve this time?

"Number one," Pansy retrieved the contract from her dress pocket, snapping it out straight. "Instead of an hour. You now have her for two and a half." 

"I'll take it," he smirked, propping his chin atop his fist. More time with her—he wasn't going to miss out on that opportunity when it struck.

A saucy grin curled at Pansy's mouth as she read it out all business style. "Number two. Aftercare." 

"I thought she didn't want that? Just do it and me to leave straight afterwards. That's what she wanted."

"Well, yes, originally," she shrugged, tapping her heel against the table leg. "But she changed her mind. She told me that she didn't like that it was over and done with so fast. I can't blame her; a woman likes the care that comes with it afterwards." 

"How exactly?" He waved his hand this way and that. "A kiss? A hug? What does she specifically want afterwards?" 

"The girlfriend experience. You know, look into her eyes, stroke her back, play with her hair, and shower with her afterwards or take a bath, whatever you usually do at home. Talk, back massage. Do I really need to list that out? You're a man; you should know how to treat a woman afterwards."

"But, for me to do that, she'd need the blindfold off." Oh fucking hell, what had he gotten himself into? He wasn't ready yet. Too soon, too fast to take that blindfold off and show his face to her.

Pansy regarded him with a look like he was the biggest idiot in the wizarding world. "There's concealment charms for a reason, Draco, baby. I'm sure you'll be able to adjust your hair and eye colour and your facial features for that last hour and a half." 

Draco shook his head, stroking his lower lip with his thumb, riddled with anxiety deep in his belly. "I don't know. She's pretty smart when it comes to charms like that. She can spot one from a mile away. It'll be my luck that it'll go wrong and I'll miss a piece of my hair." 

"You won't," she cooed, patting the top of his head. Pansy ignored his light, irate smack to the back of her hand as he glared at her, fixing his hair back to how he liked it. 

Posh, fussy, clean git.

"Pans, the whole point of this is that she didn't know who I was. I'll break if I look into her eyes directly. You don't get how powerfully she can hold a stare enough to crack a man into a confession. I've seen it for myself when we interrogate criminals." He gulped, tugging at the collar of his shirt that appeared to be choking him to death. 

"Salazar's snake, you're a right little dramatic prince, aren't you?" She snorted as he sneered at her comment. "Look. You were the one that wanted to hide because—I'm sorry, but you're a scaredy cat—you've got to suck it up and do as it says. She's expecting you to go along with it. You're a smart wizard, Draco; you can do it. But maybe if you had been brave enough to show your real face, like I said from the beginning, you wouldn't have to hide everything." 

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, tempted to smack his forehead into the table hard enough to knock him out for the rest of the weekend. Well, he couldn't exactly say she was being ridiculous, could he? That had been his decision, and it was his fault he was in this mess by hiding his identity to begin with. Granger was going to kill him by the time the truth would come out. 

He wouldn't blame her if it ever came to light that she would never speak to him again. She'd probably fire him too or lower him down in the Auror department to an isolated office where no one would want him where he belonged. Why had he agreed to this to begin with? Why couldn't he have just been a man, stopped being a cocky arsehole, and asked her out on a proper date first?

Because you're a bloody coward, Draco. 

"Lastly," Pansy continued as though Draco wasn't having an internal midlife crisis. "She now wants you on Saturday nights as well as Fridays. Starting from tonight." 

"What?!" He snapped his head up, eyes wide in alarm. 

"Chill your peacocks," Pansy droned, arching a sharp brow at his laboured, strangled breaths. "It's the same as a Friday night, just on a Saturday night too." 

"I know that, but—" 

Knock, knock. 

"Pansy, Malfoy!" Came Granger's muffled cheery voice on the other side of the door. "It's time to cut the cake and sing happy birthday!" 

Oh, splendid. Is there a paper bag anywhere I could hyperventilate into?

Pansy hopped off the table, folded the copy of the contract up, and tucked it into Draco's breast pocket, patting it as she smiled at him sweetly. "You'll be fine. I'm sure you'll figure out a way to fix this mess if things go wrong." 

With a sisterly kiss of her lips to his damp forehead, Pansy patted his shoulder as she took down the silencing and crossed the room to the door. Combing his fingers through his damp hair, Draco joined her, catching the suspicious look. Granger threw both of their ways as they walked out of the kitchen at the same time. She hadn't just clocked onto it, had she? 

He'd be screwed if she had just managed to work out that it's him in that smart brain of hers. It wouldn't surprise him if she had; Granger always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone, but anyway, Pansy was his friend, and he was allowed a private conversation with her regardless. 

Thank you very much. 

To throw her off the scent, Draco gave her one of his most patronising smiles that he knew boiled her blood as he brushed past her. It worked when the suspicion in those captivating amber eyes of hers switched to one of her I hate you, and I wish you didn't exist. She glared and stomped off to join the others crowding the young birthday boy with a wonky three-tier dragon guarding a castle cake with candles. 

Draco kept a fake smile on his face the rest of the day while inside he was screaming about what the fuck he was supposed to do tonight. 

"Did you get the new contract?" Hermione asked, calm as a floating feather, sitting on the edge of the bed wearing her lace white stocking lingerie set she'd found in her drawers at home. 

"I did," her suitor whispered in her ear, flicking her lobe with the tip of his tongue. "So you want the girlfriend experience?" 

"Mhm," she nodded, shivering as his warm knuckles gently skimmed a circle around her belly button. "I hope that's okay?" 

"Why are you asking for my approval?" He huskily asked, his voice suddenly below her as though he were crouching down between her legs. "This is, after all, all for you. Whatever you want, I shall give." 

Hermione subconsciously spread apart her legs just a tiny bit to tease him. The subtle hitch in his throat followed by a groan made her smile. "It's a two-way street is how I see it regardless, sir. I don't want you to be uncomfortable with anything that you're not up to doing with me. I'm not a total, selfish person to do things with you that you might not like." 

"You're very generous." 

"Thank you." 

She felt his long fingers curl around her right ankle as he raised her leg to—well, she thinks his chest—as he began to unravel her spaghetti-strap silver heels wrapped all the way around up to her mid-calf. Her teeth found her lip in a gentle bite as he was careful with slipping her shoe off and brushed his lips to the top of her foot. 

"You don't have a foot fetish, do you?" Hermione asked, unable to stop the cringe in her tone. She wasn't a fan of men who were into feet during sex, and she hoped he wasn't either. 

"No," he simply said, doing the same to her left. "I just like removing a woman's beautiful heels. Is that all right?" 

"That's fine." Her shoulders relaxed, a soft gasp pulling from her throat as he kissed that one too. The sound of her heels falling to the floor in a gentle thud by the bed reached her ears. 

"On the contrary to your earlier question," he spoke lowly, dancing his fingertips up her shins. "I have no objections. I'm a very confident man that will do anything you want. No questions asked. You do it, and I'll do it. It's as simple as that." 

Hermione nodded, her brows twitching as he stopped at her knees, resting his hands there, refusing to go up any higher. "And you're comfortable with...letting me see your face later when we're finished?" 

"Yes," he said after a beat, slightly hesitant. "My face but not my name." 

He was lying. Hermione could tell in those few short words that he was nervous about her seeing his face for the first time on only their third session. Was he afraid that she would think he was ugly or something? That she wouldn't find him attractive or as pleasant as he sounded? 

Hermione came up with an alternative as she took a deep breath. "You don't have to show me, sir." 

"What?" 

"I can tell that you're not ready for me to see you yet." She dipped her chin towards her chest, guessing he was still sitting there in a genuine nod. "And it's all right. I can wait and have the girlfriend experience blinded still." 

"That's very sweet of you," he replied with a soft smile in his voice. "But I don't mind." 

"No, it's okay. Truly. I won't pressure you to show me who you are. Believe me, we can take this one baby step at a time, as you said last week. I want you to be comfortable too, as you're letting me be comfortable." 

"Thank you, Granger." He murmured with a quiet sigh of relief, tickling her inner right thigh. "Now, have you been good today?" 

Oh boy, he was back to his dominant tone of voice. Fuck, she loved that tone. It made her spine tickle deliciously. In fact, he managed to make her feel so many things that Ron had never been able to do before. Where Ron had been frigid, rough with his hands, plain old missionary pump and done, and, for lack of a better word, cringey with his dirty talk. Her suitor, however, brought out feelings of desire she'd never truly known she'd been capable of having. He made her feel alive, desired, and more confident through his touch and the way he spoke to her, as if he understood that she was touch-starved for attention.

"I have." 

His palms pressed on both of her inner thighs as he spread her legs apart wider for his view. A moan hitched in her throat as she felt his warm wet tongue drag from her inner knee all the way up to her knickers in a long, slow tease. 

"And you haven't spoken to anyone you shouldn't have about this anymore? Not even to this, Theo, you mentioned to me yesterday?" 

"No, sir. Not a single soul." 

His large hand splayed across her chest between her breasts as he gently pushed her back to lie down on the bed. Hermione's head softly landed on the softest pillow she'd ever felt as she felt his body weight shift to crawl over her. Warm, strong, and trapping her beneath him, she welcomed it like rain on a hot summer's day. Dragging her bottom lip between her teeth, her hands tied across her stomach, this time she allowed him to turn her head to allow access to her throat as he curled his fingers around her jaw. 

His breath was hot by her ear as he next spoke, "Good. Then I suppose you get to come tonight for being so good for me." 

"Please," she breathlessly moaned, arching her back up into his chest as he nipped and sucked down the column of her throat. 

"Fingers or tongue tonight?" He asked silkily, using the tip of his tongue coated in saliva to swirl around her pulse point. 

"Tongue. Please, I want to feel your tongue tonight."

"As the lady wishes," he chuckled into her skin, leaving a bruise in his wake. With his mouth leaving her neck, he peppered teasing flicks of his tongue and butterfly kisses on her clavicles and between her breasts and scraped his teeth in a torturous slow nip against her nipples pebbled in her bra. She arched up into him, wriggling her fingers uselessly, desperate to run her fingers through his hair as he moved lower, kissing every inch of bare skin he had access to.

"I—um—oh fuck—would like to confess something. If you—ow!" 

"Too hard?" He panted, his tone laced with guilt, removing his mouth with a wet pop from her hip right away, as he'd accidentally bitten her too hard.

"Just a bit," she winced at the burn of his teeth marks printed into her skin. "But it's okay. Keep going." 

"Are you sure?" He asked uneasily. He sounded as though he wanted to stop, like he felt guilty for hurting her, but she knew it was an accident to begin with. And then, she felt the moment he began to have doubts, radiating from him to her in thick waves of energy as he began to move away from her.

Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist, locking him tight, the only other way she could stop him from leaving. "Please, don't stop! Or—or have second thoughts. I'm okay, really." 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bite you that hard. Are you sure that you want me to keep going? You say that safe word, and I won't touch you again."

"No," Hermione's fingertips sought out his tie hanging low, tickling around her belly button, and tenderly stroked it between her fingers as she smiled, hoping she was looking in his direction. "It's all right. Keep going, it's okay." 

Draco felt guilty for sinking his teeth in too hard as he glanced at the deep dent of his teeth already bruising into her right hip. He'd gotten a bit carried away with himself. But as he glanced down at her maroon-red painted nails caressing his tie like it was her way of trying to comfort him that he was forgiven, a fair smile twitched at his lips as he glanced at her side smile, not quite angling her head in his direction. She was so cute, with his tie across her eyes, never getting her sense of direction correct whenever he was talking to her.

He wet his lips, exhaling quietly, and dipped his head to resume his path as he smoothed a flat tongue over the mark he'd left, and she made a delicate little noise that had all of the blood in his body rushing south. 

"You were about to tell me something?" He sank down to his knees to the floor, placing open-mouthed kisses on both of her inner thighs.

"I have a—a new safe word," she stuttered between little whimpers. 

Draco curiously arched his brow, leaning up on his knees as he glanced down at the glistening wet patch on her white flower-laced knickers. His mouth watered, his cock desperate to slip inside of her as it strained against his tight trousers. He didn't answer her right away, as he kept his hooded eyes on her face and pressed his tongue to her covered vulva and licked all the way up to her clit, watching her mouth drop open and her head tip back into the pillow. 

"You were saying?" He whimsically said, watching her full, perfectly rounded breasts rise and fall, and hooked his fingers around the thin scrap waistband of her knickers as he tugged. 

"Safe word," Granger choked out, lifting her hips to help him pull them down. "I have a new one. If that's okay?"

Draco took his time snapping the string against her thighs and legs, groaning softly at the back of his throat each time she moaned when it snapped against her skin. "Go on." 

Granger eagerly bent her feet in the stance of a ballerina as he pulled her knickers free and stuffed them into his trouser pocket for later. He'd buy her a new set every time he'd steal a pair or rip them off her. 

"Slytherin."

Draco furrowed his brows at her new choice as he placed hot wet kisses from her ankle all the way up to her inner thigh and then did the same to the other as he hooked her legs over his shoulders and folded his arms across her lower belly, ready to eat.

"Any particular reason why?" He deliberately asked in a slow breath as he hungrily licked his lips at the sight of her bare before him. 

She was dripping. Her arousal was glistening in the low lighting of the room, and it was clean-shaven with a fleshy pink colour waiting for him. She was perfect, just as he had imagined she would be if he ever got the chance to see her like this. Now each day when he'd see her, he didn't have to imagine what she was hiding under those tight skirts of hers. 

It would be all he'd be able to think about now whenever he'd see her.

"Can I tell you after?" She asked needily, lifting her hips impatiently. "I just want your tongue on me now. Please."

Draco smirked as he brought one hand free to spread her apart and pressed his tongue to her clit. Granger arched her back off the bed as she gasped a laboured breath. He teased her for a while, watching her face as he closed his lips around her clit and sucked and then flicked his tongue from side to side, switching between fast and slow to drive her wild. It was working, as she writhed on the bed, her moans alternating between loud and delicate depending on how much pressure he felt like using. 

"Oh fuck, just like that," she rolled her hips, attempting to fuck his face, looking for that friction she was desperately craving. 

Draco moaned against her, rolling his eyes back shut as he dipped his tongue into her entrance, then licked a long stripe back up and sucked hard on her clit. Without asking her, mainly because he forgot to, too lost in her sweet taste and the sounds she was making, he slipped one finger inside of her and curled it, thrusting against her g-spot. 

Granger didn't seem to mind as she thrust her hips to meet his finger. He added another, pressing his free hand down on her lower belly to keep her still. 

As her breaths turned into quick pants, he pulled away from her clit, glancing down, lost in his dream come true at the sight of his fingers disappearing inside of her. She was hot and wet, dripping for him just as he had always hoped she would be. 

"Fuck, you're divine," he groaned in an airless whisper, catching her thighs beginning to shake. "So beautiful. I want to fuck you so bad, Granger."

"I'm gonna—," she broke off on a strangled cry as he felt her walls begin to tighten around his fingers and quickly sucked her clit back into his mouth. She came hard, crushing his head with her thighs wrapped around him, trapping him there as she arched her back off the bed, digging her nails into the back of her hand to hold something. 

Draco stilled his fingers inside of her, making sure to lick every last drop she gushed on him, riding her through it until her thighs loosened, setting him free, and dropping her back down to the bed. He gave her clit a sweet kiss as he withdrew his fingers, popped them into his mouth, and sucked them clean, not wanting to waste a single drop as he watched her flushed chest heave heavily. 

Removing his fingers from his mouth, he rose to his feet and placed his hand over his leaking cock, giving it a squeeze to release some pressure. Grunting as some relief shot through his pelvis, he closed his fingers around her upper arms and gently lifted her upright to sit as she calmed down. 

"I could do that to you all day," he chuckled under his breath, brushing her damp curls away from her temples. 

Granger laughed a breathless sound, wetting her dry lips. "Was that okay? Was...was I okay?" 

"Darling, you were wonderful," he praised her, taking her chin in his hand, brushing his thumb along her jawline. "May I kiss you?" 

At her eager nod, he kept his eyes on her lips as he leaned in, his heart skipping a beat more that he was about to kiss her over her coming all over his face. Tipping his head to the side, he shut his eyes as his nose skimmed hers and pressed his lips to her full, soft ones. She parted her mouth instantly, allowing him to take a taste as he dipped his tongue to hers and French kissed her with hot, no-going-back fire. She was his now; nobody else was allowed to kiss these sweet strawberry-flavoured lips of hers ever again as she moaned a surrendering sound from her breath to his.

He'd slice the next man's hand off that dared to touch her. But he still wasn't satisfied. He wanted her hands on him. Being brave and trusting her not to take a peek, he unravelled the restraints around her wrists, setting her free. He almost collapsed as her arms reached up and wound around the back of his neck, her slim, perfect fingers finding the hair at his nape as she ran her fingers caressingly through his strands. Draco deepened the kiss, getting lost in the feel of her addictive touch doing dangerous things to him. 

Granger pulled away first, leaning back as she caught up with her breaths, licking her top lip as she smiled at him. He was slightly disappointed that it had ended too soon; now he understood why she had changed her mind on their time together.

"You're a really good kisser." She praised him with a light yawn escaping her lips; once again, her head was angled to look like she was looking over his shoulder thanks to the tie still across her eyes.

"As are you," the edges of his lips morphed into a smirk as he kissed the tip of her nose. "So why did you choose Slytherin instead? As far as I can remember, you were placed in Gryffindor."

Granger shrugged, shivering slightly as her ivory skin broke out into cold goosebumps. Draco found her black dress neatly draped over the back of the chair by the fire and helped her into it to warm it up, turned her by the shoulders, and zipped it back up for her from her lower back to her nape. Without hesitating he removed his suit jacket and draped it around her bare shoulders, smoothing his hands up and down her upper arms to keep her warm. 

"There's this man that I work with," she said, sitting herself back down on the edge of the bed. "I'm an Auror, you see? Training to be head, but I have this awful co-worker that honestly drives me to insanity day in and day out." 

Oh, talking about me. Here we go.

He was thankful that she couldn't see the shame written across his features as he sat down beside her, deciding to play with her hair. A soft, curving smile graced her lips as he tucked her curls behind her ear.

"Don't get along?" 

"Not really," she sighed, nibbling on her swollen lower kissable lip as she twisted the hem of her dress between her fingers. "I mean, he's a fantastic Auror. He works really hard, and I'm constantly impressed by his quick skills on the field and his sharp tongue that makes the criminals cave when he interrogates them. They always crack under pressure whenever he speaks to them."

Draco grinned at the side of her face, drifting the backs of his knuckles down her arm as he slipped his fingers between hers to hold her hand in his and lifted them over to his lap. 

"I feel there's a but coming." He pointedly said as he watched her fingers wrap lovingly around his.

Granger nodded, huffing a sharp, annoyed breath. "But he still talks to me like he did at Hogwarts. He makes fun of me and puts me down whenever he feels like it, and he doesn't even care. He says that he doesn't hate me anymore, but sometimes I question it with his behaviour if he's doing it to make me so mad that I'll eventually quit and take over my job or just because he'll never see me as anything more than he thinks that I am." 

Her head turned downwards in the direction of where the scar that still haunted his nightly dreams laid under his sleeve. It wasn't true, obviously, as guilt clawed at his insides that he was still making her feel like that small twelve-year-old witch that had run off crying the first time he'd said it to her. It wasn't that at all, as he brushed his thumb across the backs of her knuckles. He struggled to talk to her on a daily basis, freezing up constantly with his tongue tied, and instead of something nice coming out, it always sounded like a blow to her confidence. She was successful, well-liked, beautiful, and powerful enough to make any man fall at her feet without even trying. While Draco was an ex-Death Eater, with a dark cloud of his past constantly hanging over his head, with only his job keeping him grounded.

He supposed he didn't feel like he deserved her. Which is how he was here today, hiding because she deserved better than him.

"Maybe," he took a breath as he considered his choice of words carefully. "Maybe he just does it in the hopes that he'll capture your attention. Not everyone is cruel enough to be a bully. Sometimes they just want to be noticed without being obvious about it."

"I do notice him," she sighed resting her temple on his shoulder. "But he never lets me close enough to understand him. And while I sometimes dread going into a new workday and seeing him. Sometimes, on my way down to my office, I'll have the smallest chance of hope that maybe—just maybe—I'll see the real man he hides behind his mask. But it's not a mask, because that's just who he is, and he'll never change no matter how much I wish just for once he would."