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The ballroom of the Astral Gardens glowed under floating chandeliers, casting their warm glow across the polished marble floor. A string quartet played a lilting, elegant waltz, and everywhere Hermione Granger turned, wizarding aristocrats and Ministry officials mingled with glasses of bubbling champagne and practiced ease, all adorned in glittering robes and sharp tuxedos.. It was the annual St. Mungo’s Gala, an affair dedicated to funding research for obscure magical maladies - a noble cause that had turned into one of the most anticipated social events of the year.
Hermione Granger felt suffocated.
Her dress - deep burgundy silk with intricate black embroidery along the neckline and sleeves - fit her like a glove, but that was about the only thing she liked about the evening. She’d agreed to attend solely because Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic, had insisted. As his Deputy, she was expected to speak on his behalf tonight. Hermione had spent hours preparing, as she did with anything that mattered, and expected greatness of herself. Yet the weight of expectations, public scrutiny, and her own perfectionism still lingered. Ever since her divorce she tried to stay out of the news - an exhausting mission for the so called Golden Girl.
From across the room, she spotted her ex-husband, Ron, speaking to one of the Aurors stationed near the entrance. His new fiancé, some young witch, was draped over his arm, as she tenderly caressed her slightly showing pregnancy belly. Hermione felt a pang of bitterness, not at the witch, but at the life she hadn’t wanted. Ron had been a good husband - kind, loyal, and dedicated. But their differences had grown too stark over the years. He’d wanted children and quiet weekends at home; she had wanted boardrooms, negotiations, and nights spent reading until dawn. The divorce had been mutual, but there were still wounds that hadn’t fully healed - and seeing how quickly Ron had moved on wasn‘t helpful at all.
"Oh, Merlin‘s beard. And here I thought this evening might be dull."
Her stomach tightened at the sound of that voice. Smooth as velvet, tinged with amusement, and just the slightest hint of challenge. She turned slowly and came face to face with Draco Malfoy.
He stood a few feet away, the epitome of elegance in an obsidian three piece suit, tailored to perfection and lined with silver that caught the light with every movement. His platinum hair was combed back precisely, but not too severely - just enough to emphasize the sharp jawline and high cheekbones he was blessed with. His steel-grey eyes - so infuriatingly unreadable - met hers with a gleam of amusement.
Hermione hadn‘t seen him in person in over a decade, though he was a frequent figure in the Daily Prophet. After the war, he’d been pardoned, thanks in large part to testimony from Harry and Narcissa Malfoy‘s life-saving actions. Draco had since reinvented himself as a philanthropic entrepreneur. He’d invested in several struggling wizarding businesses, championed modernization efforts in St. Mungo’s, and was a key backer for magical research institutes. He was also, according to Witch Weekly, the wizarding world’s most eligible bachelor - a title he seemed to relish. But Hermione had to admit, that the pictures in newspapers and magazines didn‘t do him justice. He was even more attractive in reality.
His tall, broad frame adorned by the suit and his big, neat hands with long digits gently holding on to his champagne flute.
Draco recognized Hermione‘s gaze. But he enjoyed the moment, as it allowed him to stare right back. The shimmering fabric of her dress hugged her curves in an intricate way and his eyes lingered over the embroidery on her neckline, wishing he could see what she hid beneath.
"Malfoy," Hermione replied, her tone cool but polite. "I’m surprised to see you here."
He ripped his gaze from her perfect, perky breasts and stepped closer, ignoring her attempt to maintain distance. "Why’s that? I’m a generous supporter of St. Mungo’s. They’d be lost without me."
Hermione gave him a pointed look. "And I’m sure the press coverage or the free champagne has absolutely nothing to do with it."
Draco’s grin widened. "Careful, Granger. You’re almost giving me credit for being noble."
She couldn’t help the faint smirk that tugged at her lips. "I’d never accuse you of that."
He chuckled, low and warm. It shouldn’t have affected her, but there was something different about Draco now - an ease he hadn’t had during their school years. Gone was the sneering, insecure boy. In his place stood a man comfortable in his own skin, confident and infuriatingly charming.
"I wouldn‘t miss Hermione Granger‘s speech for a million galleons," he chuckled and leaned against a marble pillar beside her.
She rolled her eyes. "I‘m sure you are riveted."
"Oh, I‘m riveted now." His gaze flicked briefly over her, lingering just enough for her to feel his scrutiny. "You clean up nicely, Granger. You‘re positively radiant in burgundy."
Hermione‘s lips parted, a retort at the ready, but her breath hitched. She wasn‘t wearing her dress to impress anyone, least of all Draco Malfoy. Yet his words - and the heat in his gaze - landed with a disarming accuracy and sent an arousing shudder down her spine.
"You‘re insufferable," she muttered.
He grinned, the perfect picture of a devilish provocateur. "I try my best."
With a sublte shift, Draco moved closer, and Hermione realized belatedly that the ballroom suddenly felt much smaller.
"Tell me, Granger," Draco drawled, "are you here to dazzle everyone with your speech? Or are you just here to avoid your adoring public until they announce you as the first female Minister of Magic?"
He was so close, that his scent wrapped around Hermione. Citrus and something darker - ebony? Or leather maybe?
"That‘s presumptous," Hermione answered, though the corner of her mouth twitched. "And arrogant. Still the same Malfoy."
"Some habits die hard." He leaned in even more, until his arm brushed over her shoulder, lowering his voice just enough to make her pulse jump. "Besides, I‘ve always found you most fascinating when you‘re irritated."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "How boring, as I‘m always irritated in your presence." She swallowed hardly and was thankful for her quick-wittedness. Malfoy irritated her - unfortunately not in the punch-him-in-the-face way, but in a she-hadn‘t-been-touched-for-almost-a-year way.
"Deputy Minister Granger! We‘re ready for your speech," a booming voice interrupted their exchange.
Relieved for the escape, Hermione turned towards the stage at the front of the ballroom. She gave Draco a final look - one that hopefully conveyed her resolve not be baited further -and made her way to the front.
The speech was a success. Hermione spoke with poise and passion, her words resonating with the crowd as she described the charity‘s mission and the importance. She fielded polite applause and a few handshakes from key donors before stepping away, feeling lighter now that her obligation was complete.
But just as she thought the rest of the night might proceed peacefully, Draco Malfoy found her again.
"Impressive. Almost moved me to tears," he said and placed a hand over his heart.
Hermione raised a brow. "Just almost?"
"I have a reputation to maintain," Malfoy chuckled.
"Of course."
"No but really. You‘re even better with words than I remember," he said. "Though I could‘ve helped with the closing line. It was a bit… rehearsed."
Hermione shot him a glare. "Malfoy, if you plan on critizing me all night, go find someone else to torment please."
"Oh, you misunderstoof me entirely. I‘m here to offer peace." He held up two crystal glasses of champagne. "Unless you‘d rather deal with your frustrations in… another way?"
Her eyes narrowed again, but she accepted the glass - when she reached for it, he didn’t immediately let go. Instead, his fingers brushed against hers - deliberate, slow, and lingering just long enough to make her heart skip and her stomach to tightened.
"Are you always this annoying, or do you still save your behavior for me? Like back in school?"
"Lets just say… you inspire me," he quipped.
They stood there for a few beats, champagne forgotten as tension sparked between them. Hermione felt the heat of his gaze like a physical touch, tracing every curve and angle of her face. She knew she should step away, return to the safety of the crowd. But something kept her rooted to the spot - curiosity, defiance, or maybe just the thrill of being seen.
"You‘re infuriating," she said.
"You‘re welcome."
It wasn‘t long before Draco‘s relentless teasing led to an invitation.
"Dance with me."
"What?"
"You heard me." He drained his champagne and set the glass on a nearby table. "One dance."
"I’m not interested."
His smirk deepened. "Liar." He held out his hand for her.
Hermione sighed and against her better judgment - perhabs emboldened by the champagne - she accepted and put her hand in his. Draco couldn‘t avoid paying a thought to how delicate and small her hand feeled in his.
The dance floor was crowded, but as Draco guided her through the people, the rest of the world seemed to fade. The music swelled - slow, haunting, and utterly romantic. Draco placed one hand on her waist, drawing her closer. Too close. Hermione felt heat bubbling inside of her and Draco‘s fingertips burned through the thin fabric of her dress, as he gently caressed her side.
Hermione hesitantely placed her other hand on his shoulder as Draco started the slow waltz. He was an excellent dancer, leading with effortless grace and an infuriating confidence. Hermione tried to focus on the steps, but her awareness of his body so close to hers was impossible to ignore.
"I don‘t bite," he murmured.
"You used to."
"Ah, but I’ve changed. Haven’t you heard? I’m respectable now."
Hermione couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her. He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. They moved together effortlessly, falling into a rhythm that surprised her. She hadn’t danced in ages - not since her wedding she thought. Yet with Draco, it felt natural. Easy.
Too easy.
The hand on her waist slid a fraction lower, fingers brushing the small of her back. Heat bloomed beneath her skin, spreading in a way that was both infuriating and exhilarating.
"Careful, Malfoy," she said, though her voice was breathless.
"Careful’s never been my style."
The music ended, but neither of them stepped away. For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them - hearts racing, eyes locked, and unspoken words hanging in the air. The tensin between them grew.
"I need air," Hermione said and stepped away before he could respond.
She made her way to the balcony, the crisp night air providing an immediate sense of relief. But not even the stars could dull the heat lingering beneath her skin.
Draco found her minutes later.
She turned at the sound of footsteps, and there he was again, no less magnetic as before.
"Found you," he leaned against the doorframe and drew a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one with a flick of his and. The slow glowilluminated his face and Hermione‘s breath caught at the sight. She had never thought smoking could be attractive, but something about the way Draco‘s lips wrapped around the cigarette was intoxicating.
"You‘re going to say something self-righteous about smoking, aren‘t you?" he teased and slowly exhaled the smoke, that curled around him like a veil, as he stepped over to the railing next to her.
"I‘m trying not to."
He gave her a lazy smile. "Don‘t hold back on my account."
Silence fell between them. Hermione was mesmerized by the way the moonlight adorned Draco‘s face.
"Why do you do this?" she asked suddenly.
"Do what?" Draco walked away to press the bud of his cigarette in an ashtray by the door.
"Provoke me."
He came back and stood even closer then before.
"You’re too wound up, Granger. Always have been," he changed the subject.
"That’s rich, coming from you."
He chuckled, low and dangerous. "Touché."
Hermione’s heart was a wild drumbeat in her chest. Every nerve in her body was hyperaware - of his nearness, of the way his arm brushed over her chest as he turned around. When he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, she thought she might shatter.
"Admit it. You like it when I rile you up." His words struck her like a stunning curse. Too intense and too true. His arm brushed her again as he leaned back, looking for her eyes.
The heat building inside her reached dangerous levels. "You are unbelievable."
"And you are irresistible."
They stood frozen. Hermione‘s mind screamed at her to step away, but she didn‘t. Even as he lifted his hand to teasingly ghost along her shoulder with his fingertips.
It felt as though time had slowed. The crisp night air, the distant hum of music and even the chatter from inside the ballroom faded to insignificance. All that remained was the intensity of Draco‘s gaze and the way his lingering touch burned against her skin as his fingers found the back of her neck, tilting her head a little.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered as he slowly leaned down.
She couldn‘t and she didn‘t want to.
And when his lips found hers, there was no room for hesitation. The kiss was fierce and unrelenting. Draco’s hands slid into her hair as he deepened the kiss. Hermione’s fingers tangled in his jacket, pulling him closer, needing more.
The world fell away. There was only this heat, need, and the intoxicating realization that everything had changed. Draco slipped over Hermione‘s bottom lip with his tongue and as she opened her mouth she could taste the smoke and a faint hint of champagne. Draco pulled back his tongue and Hermione nipped on his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan from her counterpart. A selfrighteous smirk found it‘s way to her face. Draco Malfoy had moaned because of her.
He wandered over her jaw to her ear and down her neck with his hot mouth as Hermione tangled her fingers in his hair. Draco placed his hands on Hermione‘s hips pulling her close to him. She felt the proof of his arousal pressed against her stomach.
Never in her life before had she wanted something - someone - so badly. As Draco nipped on her collarbone a realization hit her.
"I think-" she mumbled, as it got harder to concentrate. "I think you enjoy pushing me just to see how far I‘ll go."
Draco smiled wicked and whispered: "You‘ve got me," before resuming open mouth kissing Hermione‘s throat.
"Why?" she asked with a soft whine, as Draco‘s tongue slipped over her pulse point.
"Because I‘ve always wondered what would happen if you stopped holding back," he said and straightened up again, his fingertips burying in her soft hips, ruffling the fabric of her dress. Draco saw the fire in her eyes flaming up yet again, right before she threw herself at him and kissed him with a confidence he worked hard to elicit from her.
Just as Hermione placed the palm of her hand on the buldge beneath Draco‘s zipper and massaged him gently in the rhythm of her lips on his, they heard laughter in the background coming closer.
They broke apart, both trying to regulate their breathing as Draco leaned against the railing to hide his arousal from the people arriving on the balcony. Hermione‘s mind was a whirlwind of confusion and desire, but one thought stood above the rest: This wasn‘t over.
"See you later," she said as Draco lit himself another cigarette and she walked back inside, giving him space to… calm down.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur.
Hermione and Draco drifted apart, but never far enough for their gazes not to find each other across the crowded ballroom. Every few minutes, their eyes would lock - brief but charged glances that made Hermione’s heart race. He would offer a smirk, casual and knowing, and she would feel her skin heat. The memories of their kiss - and how far it had gone - lingered as a pulse between her legs.
An hour later, Hermione decided she had had enough. She couldn’t pretend to be interested in donor conversations or champagne refills when her mind was completely elsewhere. The hunger building inside her could no longer be ignored.
She found him standing at the edge of the room, half-listening to a conversation with a famous potion inventor. His gaze lifted the moment she stepped into his line of sight. His entire posture shifted - more alert, more focused. Their silent connection hummed in the air between them.
Hermione inclined her head, signaling him over. As Draco excused himself, she slipped a small piece of parchment into his palm.
"I’m leaving," she murmured, her voice low enough for only him to hear. "I’ll be waiting."
Draco’s hand tightened around the parchment. He looked like he was about to say something - possibly one of his trademark quips - but Hermione didn’t stay to hear it. She turned on her heel, gave a few polite goodbyes, and apparated home.
With a dry mouth Draco unfolded the piece of parchment realizing she wrote her floo adress down for him. She wanted him to follow her.
Back at her flat, Hermione moved quickly. The moment she stepped inside, she exhaled deeply, as if shedding the weight of the night. Her fingers found the back of her dress, and with a few practiced movements, the zipper slid down. The burgundy silk pooled at her feet, leaving her in only her lace undergarments.
She padded into her bedroom and pulled on a satin robe - deep emerald with black trim, almost Slytherin colored - tying the sash loosely at her waist. The fabric felt cool and sensual against her skin, but even that couldn’t calm the restless energy thrumming through her. She checked her reflection briefly in the mirror, adjusting the loose curls framing her face. She wanted to look good. For him.
A soft whoosh echoed from her sitting room.
He had arrived.
Draco Malfoy stepped out of the Floo, brushing ash from his tailored trousers. He didn’t move immediately, taking a moment to scan his surroundings. The flat was warm, filled with books, soft candlelight, and little personal touches like a lot of throw pillows and a big quilt on the sofa - quintessentially Hermione. But all thoughts of the decor vanished when she stepped into view.
He froze.
Hermione stood barefoot at the door to what he imagined being her bed room, her satin robe clinging to her curves. The deep green made her skin glow, and her hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall. Her lips parted just enough to reveal her quickened breath.
Draco swallowed hard. He liked his lips and felt the blood rushing to his groin immediately again. His mind, so often sharp and calculating, blanked completely. All he knew was there had never been a woman looking more beautiful or more tempting than Hermione Granger in this moment.
"Say something," Hermione prompted softly, her nerves betraying her despite her composed tone.
"You‘re-," Draco tried, his voice rough with need. His gaze darkened, fixed entirely on her. "-intoxicating."
In three long strides, he closed the distance between them.
Their mouths collided, more intense than before. There was no hesitation this time. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him flush against her as Draco’s hands explored - tracing the curve of her waist, her hips, her thighs. The thin satin of her robe offered no barrier; every touch felt electric.
Draco pressed her against the wall, deepening the kiss until they were both gasping for breath. His lips moved from her mouth to her jaw, trailing down the column of her neck again. Hermione tilted her head back, giving him full access, and he took full advantage - biting, sucking, and soothing the sensitive skin until she whimpered.
"You’re maddening," Hermione whispered as she felt the wet heat pooling in her knickers.
"And you’re irresistible," Draco countered, his voice hoarse as he pressed his mouth against hers ones more. His hands found the tie of her robe, and with a gentle tug, it came undone and he could slip his hands beneath it over Hermione‘s soft, hot skin.
Hermione didn’t give him time to admire for long. She tugged at his jacket, and he shrugged it off without breaking the contact of their lips. Buttons followed, scattering to the floor as her impatient fingers worked. Soon, the white dress shirt joined the jacket. Her hands slid over the planes of his chest, marveling at the warmth of his skin and feeling the lines created by his muscles.
Draco pressed his mouth against her neck again and moved over her shoulder as he slowly pushed the robe off of her. His breath hitched as her body was fully revealed.
"Merlin." Draco growled low in his throat - almost primal. He placed one of his big hands on the soft flesh of her arse and scooped her up effortlessly. Hermione’s legs wrapped around his waist, he carried her to the bedroom, their kisses growing hungrier with each passing second.
He gently placed her on the bed and a soft whine slipped from Hermione‘s heat, because Draco stayed behind at her bedside, but as she registered, that he unfastened his belt and trousers a new rush of heat went through her. She turned on all fours and crawled right over to Draco, her head on the exact height she needed and wanted.
She kissed his flat, muscular stomach and let her tongue slip around his belly button. Draco gasped and his hands fell to his sides. He moaned as she pulled down his pants and underwear. An excited gasp slipped out of her mouth as she saw his beautiful, big dick.
Draco awakened from his short dazed phase because he felt her breath ghosting over the hot skin of his best feature. Hermione wrapped her hand around the base of Draco‘s cock and he put his hand on her head, caressing her wild, unruly curls just as she gave his tip a curious lick. A low groan vibrated through his throat and Hermione wrapped her lips around his shaft, wetting him with her tongue before she started building a rhythm.
He was butter in her hands, just melting away because of the heat of her wet mouth. Her pouted lips stretched around his cock - and he had thought she couldn‘t be hotter, just standing in her silk robe.
"Hermione," he sighed and pulled her hair tighter. She let her hand graze from the base of his shaft down to his balls. "Fuck," he whispered and felt the familiar rush in his groin. His lips thrusted forward instinctively wanting - needing - to be closer, deeper. But he knew he was playing a dangerous game and he didn‘t want to lose - though loosing this game was a win of his own kind.
"You have to stop," he mumbled and pulled away.
She pouted and gave him a last, innocent lick. Draco‘s eyes were fixated on her. "Merlin. What I wouldn‘t do to fill that naughty mouth with my cum."
Hermione felt her middle clenching around emptyness. She felt like she was on fire, every nerve ending was sensitive to no end.
Draco slipped out of his trousers completely and just as Hermione wanted to lay back on her mattress he stopped her.
"I‘ve got you right where I want you," he moaned and pulled her to the edge of the bed.
Hermione shuddered, as Draco freed her from her underwear with a flick of his wrist and the cold air hit her sensitive nipples and between her legs. Draco leaned over her and let the pad of his thumb run over her one nipple, as he flicked his tongue against the over. Hermione moaned and threw her head back. She hadn‘t been touch in a long time and Draco knew what he was doing. He sucked her bud into his mouth and grazed over it with his teeth, only to do it again on the other side.
Hermione placed her hands on his back and buried her fingertips in his skin, grazing him with her fingernails. She thrusted her pelvis against him, searching for friction where she so desperately needed it.
Draco understood her wordless plea and slipped further downwards, kneeling between her legs. He adjusted Hermione‘s position further and first placed her left leg over his shoulder, kissing her inner thigh thorougly, before repeating it on the over side. Trapped between her thighs he felt as close to heaven as he‘ll ever be. Her pussy glistened with sweet juices and he couldn‘t wait to lap it up, but he wouldn‘t be Draco Malfoy, if he wouldn‘t tease her first. He let his tongue run over her outer labia and felt her thighs twitching in anticipation.
"Draco…" she sighed, "Please. I need you."
He couldn‘t let her say that twice. Before Hermione knew what was about to come Draco buried his mouth over her wet and fluttering quim, lapping at her juices like a starving man. He swiped through her folds back to front before circling her clit and repeating it.
"You taste like heaven," he mumbled and buried his suprisingly flexible and fortunately long tongue in her pussy while he started rubbing her clit with his fingers. Hermione placed a hand on Draco‘s head, tangled in his hair and pushing him closer, because she couldn‘t have enough. Just as he ran out of air she loosened her grip and Draco decided to switch up his game again. He wrapped his lips around her clit again and pushed into Hermione with his middle and ring finger massaging her g spot in a quick rhythm.
"God- Dra-" syllables stumled out of Hermione‘s mouth and her thighs started to shake again, as Draco proceeded pressing his fingers inside of her and his tongue on her clit. "Dra-co-" she gasped "I‘m gon- I‘m com-ing!" She shouted and her whole body convulsed as she thrusted upwards and tensed and relaxed with the shockwaves of her orgasm. Before Draco knew it he got soaked in her juices.
"Merlin. Granger…" Draco groaned licking his lips as he slowly rose from his knews.
"God. I‘m sorry. I didn‘t…" she mumbled.
Draco shook his head and licked his wet fingers. "What you‘re sorry for, love? Coming all over my face?" He chuckled and slowly leaned other her. "If only I would’ve known that would happen, I could‘ve caught every drop of your sweet nectar."
Hermione was sure her flush only intensified. "I didn‘t… know I could do this," she whispered.
A deep guttural groan escaped Draco. "You telling me, that was the first time somebody made you squirt?" His dick jumped as Hermione nodded carefully.
"To be honest. I never… ever… came even remotely as hard," she admitted.
Another deep groan came from Draco and it vibrated in his chest, as he pressed the palm of Hermione‘s hand against where his heart beat.
"You‘re gonna be the death of me," he said and Hermione saw the spark in his eyes, "Now. Make space. On your knees. Lets see how many more of those earth shattering orgasms I can get out of you, before I falter myself."
Hermione thrummed in anticipation and did as he said, kneeling right in the middle of the bed. Draco positioned himself behind her and she could feel the head of his cock rubbing against her entrance.
"You‘re on the potion?" Draco asked and Hermione could barely nodd, before she moaned at the intrusion of him. Draco was way bigger than Ron and way hotter than the toys she had used in the past. He filled her in a perfect way, touching all the right places. Quickly Draco started building a rhythm, with his hands gripping onto Hermione‘s hips, pulling her closer to him with every thrust. His balls grazed her clit from time to time and Hermione already felt the coil tightening in her again dangerously fast. Draco caressed her back and rested one of his hands on the small of the back before snaking the other one to Hermione‘s front and teasing her nipples again.
He was leaning over her and she felt his heavy breath grazing her shoulder and ear.
"Your pussy feels magical around my cock. You are made to take my cock," he said and Hermione felt her whole body shuddering. Never in her life would she have dared to think that Draco Malfoy of all people would say something like that to her.
She felt dirty in the best possible way. The hand formerly teasing her nipples wandered downwards and started rubbing her clit.
"Draco-" she moaned and buried her face in her pillows. All he could hear now where the dampened whimpers and whines with every thrust, her fists clenched around the bedsheets.
Draco could feel her pussy fluttering around him and it took everything inside of him to not loose control and fill her up. He wanted to prolong this. He wanted her to have more. And he wanted himself to have more. Because he couldn‘t be sure she would ever even talk to him again, once she came down from this high.
"I‘m coming," she whined and rose from the pillows, pressing her lucious ass against Draco and enjoying the feel of her pussy clenching around his dick.
Draco choked as he stilled and forced his body to rest for a second. To rest and just enjoy the massage her quim gave him, though it felt like she was trying to milk him.
It worked and as she came down from the orgasm, Draco was still ready to go on. He pulled himself out of her and Hermione whined at the feeling of loss. "Turn around," he said. "The next time your pussy clenches around me like that, I will loose myself and I want to see your face while I do so."
Hermione turned on her back and wrapped her legs around Draco‘s waist to pull him close again.
"Fuck me," she mewled into his ear, "Fill me up."
Draco groaned and buried his face in her shoulder as he finally thrusted inside of her again. Hermione moved her legs in the same rhythm of Draco‘s hip thrusts and guided him like that. Her hands - finally able to touch him again - grazed over his back, leaving red marks where her fingernails scratched him, when he brushed against that particularly sensitive spot inside of her.
She shifted her pelvis, allowing Draco to penetrate her even deeper and she heard him moaning because of the feeling. He kissed her neck again and as his tongue ran over her pulse point she felt her pussy tighten again.
"Look at me," she whispered and Draco straightened up a bit, looking in her fiery eyes, that were colored with arousal. She saw the same in his eyes, his pupils like black discs, focusing on her. He knew he couldn‘t do this much longer.
He placed one of his hands between them and rubbed Hermione‘s clit again.
"Come for me," he said and flicked the pad of his thumb over her sensitive bud. Her whole body tensed and she threw her head back into her pillow, her mouth opened wide as a moan got stuck in her throat. She resembed a beautiful godess and Draco had never seen something as mesmerizing as her in that moment. Her pussy clenched around him and Draco‘s head tilted forwards, till his chin touched his chest, though his eyes never left her face. It only took one more thrust of his hips and he felt his load rushing inside of him. He stilled and felt his hot semen filling her up, mixing with her juices. Another thrust with his already faltering, spent cock caused an unprecedented squelching sound and Hermione to spasm before he pulled out of her.
Draco collapsed beside Hermione, still catching his breath as he pulled her close. His arm wrapped protectively around her waist, his fingertips lightly tracing her hip as if to reassure himself she was still there. Hermione, still trembling slightly from the aftermath, let out a soft, content sigh. Their bodies were damp with sweat, but the heat between them was comforting rather than overwhelming.
For a while, neither spoke. There was something sacred about the silence - an unspoken understanding passing between them. Draco tilted his head, pressing a featherlight kiss to her temple. Hermione turned toward him, resting her head on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat filling her ears.
"I feel like I should say something profound," she finally said, her voice quiet but tinged with amusement.
"Granger, you always feel the need to say something profound," Draco teased, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips.
Hermione swatted his arm half-heartedly, but her smile gave her away. "It’s just - this was unexpected. You and me."
Draco’s hand stilled on her hip for a moment. "Unexpected, maybe. But not unwelcome."
Hermione lifted her head to look at him, her eyes meeting his. There was no trace of the usual teasing arrogance in his gaze - only sincerity, a vulnerability that Draco Malfoy rarely showed anyone. She cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing over the sharp line of his jaw.
"I feel electric with you," she said softly.
Draco caught her hand and kissed her palm, because he didn‘t know what to say.
Hermione chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with what they’d just done. They settled back into each other’s arms, Draco resting his chin lightly on top of her head. The weight of the world, the complications that waited for them outside these walls, felt distant for now.
"Does this mean…" she mumbled against his chest.
"It means whatever you want it to mean," Draco interrupted, his tone unusually tender. He brushed through her hair gently. "I’m not going anywhere, if that’s what you’re asking."
A soft smile tugged at Hermione’s lips. She rested her palm against his chest again, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her hand. It grounded her in the moment - no longer the whirlwind of passion, just a quiet intimacy she hadn’t known she could have. The room was quiet now, except for their breathing and the soft patter of rain beginning outside.
"You’re dangerous, you know. You make me feel… things." Draco whispered.
Hermione lifted her head again and looked at him.
"Things? That’s very descriptive." Her tone was teasing, but there was genuine warmth behind it. "And here I thought you were so good with words."
"Don’t push your luck, Granger." He smirked and his eyes drifted to her lips, before kissing her innocently. She sighed and bedded her head on his chest again.
They lay there for a while, exchanging lazy touches until slowly, exhaustion began to tug at Hermione’s eyelids. She shifted closer to Draco, her head tucked just beneath his chin.
"Sleep," he murmured, pressing a final kiss to the crown of her head. "I’ll be here."
And as the rain drummed softly against the windowpane, they drifted off together, entwined and at peace for the first time in what felt like forever.