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The Closet Relativity Theory	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 14962 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I will not make a profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Eeee! I am so excited for all of the buzz surrounding this story! So many people love it, and it warms my heart right down to the last blood vessel. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
There's a surprise in here. If you keep up with my work, you'll probably put two and two together pretty easily. XD
Again, this is dedicated to LightofEvolution. *Hearts* She has a cute Dramione / almost Lumione out called Wanderlust. Please go give it a read! SO FUN.
Thanks, as always, to my best friend, waymay. We're going to Harry Potter World together! That's right. We're dorksssss. XD But we are the best kind. The kind that write smutty, lovey, intense, funny Dramione. ;D Thank you, waymay, for editing this chap for me. All the love.
~A.
Part Two: A Woken Dragon
If you push me to the edge, I'll dig into you
If it's not right now, it will be soon
If you move too fast, I'll pretend I had to lose
I'll keep you right under me, I'll bury you
A desperate man, running out of time
He's a desperate man, he won't stop until you understand
I'm the only one for you
A heart of gold, a precious little boy with a heart of gold
He's gonna hold you 'til your blood runs cold
I'm the only one for you
"Paper Lion" by Barcelona
It was to Draco's relief when Theo suggested they needed more alcohol for this. Eagerly, Draco volunteered for tribute. He scrambled up from his seated position on the floor, brushed off his pants (to take more time) and started towards the door. If he could drag this moment out, he might not need to answer any truth or dare questions at all.
"Oy, Draco! Take Weasley with you to carry the alcohol."
Fuck. No. Fuck. No.
"Why me?" Weasley scrambled out.
"Because you've got the longest arms -carry more alcohol."
"I can just levitate the damn alcohol, Nott," Draco grumbled.
"Oh, then take Granger. She's great at spells."
Sighing, the blond grumbled, "Come on, Weasley." The last thing he needed to do was be in a room with Hermione Granger. Alone. Again.
The last time, things had ended dreadfully. And he didn't think he could stomach the thought of another repeat.
Seven Months Ago
. "These are simply impressive, Malfoy," Granger said, looking over his patent proposal for a new alchemy tool. Her hair, today, was tucked back in a ponytail, but there were still bits of curls that escaped the hold and fell down the sides of her cheeks. Draco had to force himself not to reach over the table and stroke them out of her face.
"Of course they are," he said in his most arrogant tone, sitting back in his chair to resist the urge to inhale her scent a moment longer. "Do you think the Ministry will give me the go-ahead?"
"It looks like you have all your ducks in a row," she said, nodding. Her eyebrows crinkled together, much like they had in his dream the night before, and she swallowed a lump in her throat. Something was wrong. Draco had spent enough time in an office going over papers with Hermione Granger to recognize her distress signs. Carefully, he leaned his hands on the table near hers, but not touching.
"Er… you alright there, Granger? You look a bit... " Her eyes darted over to his, angry, and he said, a bit quieter, "Pale."
"I'm fine," she snapped, though an angry tear ran down her cheek.
"You don't look fine to me." He tried to put on his best, encouraging smirk. "Who's going to get hexed?"
A soft smile, reluctantly, broke out across her lips, and she sighed, setting his patents down. Her hand rested ever so close to his, now. "It's unprofessional to discuss my personal life."
"I asked," he said, raising an eyebrow as a challenge. "It would be unprofessional to sit there with tears in your eyes and not divulge."
"I'm pretty sure that's not how professionalism works," she chided, sighing again. They sat in silence for a time, until, finally, she said, "I'm just having a bit of trouble at home. Nothing that has to do with you or your patents. So, maybe, we should get back to it, hmm?"
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Granger. Just spill it. Or I'll tell your supervisor you were a puddle of tears in this meeting."
"I'm not a bundle of tears!" She glared, but it looked as if she might actually turn into a puddle of tears. "Oh, fine, Malfoy. Have it your way. You're only going to make fun of me." She drew her arms up around herself and sighed. "Ron and I… we've decided to take a break."
Draco's heart leapt in his chest. For months, he'd been dreaming of this moment, but was so unsure how to proceed. Carefully, he asked, "A break?"
"Yes." Her eyes met his, before she looked back down at her hands. "Well, go on. I'm waiting."
"For what?"
"For the quips. The insults. The degradations and told you so's." She wiped furiously at her cheeks as a tear fell down. Draco Malfoy sat, stoic, afraid to move. His heart felt as if it might explode.
Carefully, he decided, against his better judgement, to move his hand towards hers. He watched her watch his hand as it dragged across the table, and, finally, folded over her own. "Frankly, Hermione, if we're being completely honest with each other, you're too good for Weasley. I'm surprised you didn't dump him sooner."
She stared down at his hand for some time before dragging her eyes up to his. "You called me Hermione."
"I did."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "Seemed right."
A blush crawled up her cheeks. "Erm… th-thank you. For not making fun of me."
"We're not children anymore," he scolded, rolling his eyes. He made to move his hand away, but her fingers came up, folding over his own and gave them a light squeeze.
"I mean it," she whispered. "I know we don't talk much, aside from these business arrangements, but… it's nice of you not to be cruel."
Draco removed his hand and smirked, his confidence soaring. "Not a problem."
He watched her gather up her briefings and slide his paperwork into her briefcase. "I can send these down to my administrator this afternoon. You should have your patents approved by morning tomorrow." She smiled, stood, and started towards the door.
Draco took his chance. "Granger?"
"Hmm?" she stopped at the door, hand poised to turn the handle as she glanced over her shoulder.
"If you're feeling up to it, and don't want to be alone… maybe we could grab drinks sometime."
"Why am I carrying all the alcohol?" Ron Weasley grumbled, following Draco out of the Parlor and back towards the Study. "You said we could levitate them."
"Because logic dictates that if I have a pack mule, I use the pack mule."
Weasley nearly threw down all of the alcohol -his arms drew up, but he caught himself last moment and glared daggers at the back of Draco's head. "You're still as obnoxious as you ever were in school."
"School was years ago, Weasley. Merlin's sake, let it go." Draco checked his pocket watch -four minutes passed. Good. Only three more until the stupid 'truth or dare' edition of 'let's make Draco Malfoy's life a living Hell' would cease. "But while I have you here…" He stopped mid stride, forcing the redhead to halt on his haunches to keep from running smack dab into Draco's back. The blond turned curtly and eyed Weasley up and down with mild interest. "Why'd you do it?"
"Do what?" The oaf gave him an incredulous stare.
"I know you're a bit slow on the upkeep most of the time, but do keep up, Weaselbee." Draco shoved his hands inside his pockets. "What you did to Granger."
A flush of red crawled up Ron Weasley's neck, then his jaw, and finally it tickled his cheeks and ears. He gripped onto the alcohol in his clutches tighter; his arms shook in the process. "I don't think that's any of your business, Malfoy."
Grey eyes rolled upwards towards the ceiling, but still his smirk remained as he replied, "You're right. It really isn't. However…" He snapped his fingers within his pockets and, with a little wandless magic, doubled the weight of the glasses of alcohol. Weasley barrelled forward in a display of balance, scowling.
"You really want me to drop all this?" he grumbled.
"I don't really care if you do. You'll be the sod who made the first extremely large party foul of the evening. Do you really want that label on you the rest of the night?"
Blue eyes narrowed into slits. "What went on between me and Hermione s'got nothing to do with you."
Draco shrugged. "If you say so…"
The slits turned to round orbs, and eyebrows flew up a freckled face. "Just what are you insinuating?"
Crossing the distance between them, Draco got right up in Weasley's obnoxious face and whispered, "That's a large word coming from you. Did she teach you it? Hermione, I mean?"
"You keep her name out of your mouth."
"Ooh, touchy." He tilted his head and chuckled. "For the record, I'm not insinuating anything. I'm saying it outright." Draco relished in the way Weasley's entire face turned tomato red in that moment, and he spun on his heels, nearly knocking the other man off his access as he crossed the hallway and snapped his fingers, weighing the bottles even more and causing Weasley to wince. "Oh, Weaselbee! Do keep up, will you?"
He arrived at the Study doors and checked his watch again. One minute? That was it? Sweet baby dragons, this night couldn't move any slower. The sooner he had everyone out of his house, the better. Maybe he should check the Dark Artifacts collection in the dungeons? Maybe there was a time turner he could scrounge up that would take him back in time and whack his fellow Slytherins upside the head with a few confounding spells to prevent this entire shindig from ever happening.
One step inside the door and a gaze at a dazzling, frizzy haired Gryffindor later, and the want to do so was gone. Seeing her again, in any capacity… Draco hadn't known how much it would mean to him until it happened. Maybe this night could last forever? Once it was gone, she might disappear like a breath of hot air on a Winter's night.
"Where's the goods?" Theo asked.
"With the help." Draco smirked and shut the door on Ron Weasley's face just as he was about to enter the room. A muffled 'Oof!' could be heard through the thick, wooden door. "Oops." He sidestepped, turned the handle, and opened the door wide up. "My apologies, Weasley. You're so pale I assumed you were a ghost and could float right through the walls."
Pansy sniggered into her hand as Weasley begrudgingly stepped into the room and made his way over to the center, where the circle of mix-bagged witches and wizards were still seated.
"Just so all of you know," he said, carefully dumping the alcohol onto the floor. "Draco Malfoy is a git. A royally arrogant prick."
"You flatter me," replied Draco, shutting the door and joining the circle. He glanced up at the timer of smoke above their heads. One more minute. He could drag this out, couldn't he? "Weasley, truth or dare?"
"What?"
"I thought the question was extremely self-explanatory."
"Don't be an arse." Ron took a seat between Padma and -oh, Daphne? She was still here? She was such a wallflower. "Besides, it's not even your turn."
"Actually," said Hermione bashfully, "it is, Ron."
"Oh." Weasley looked thoroughly perturbed. "Erm… Truth? I guess?" He took one look at Draco's eager smirk and shook his head. "Dare. I mean dare."
"Nope. You said truth." Theo glanced about the circle. "Everyone heard it, right?"
"Sorry, Ron," muttered Potter, "those are the rules."
"Fuck."
Draco attempted to hold back a series of laughter as he brought his pointer finger to his chin and tapped it, pretending to ponder it over. "Hmm… what to ask…. Oh. I know." He raised an eyebrow. "What was the reason you and Granger broke it off, again? My memory is a little fuzzy."
The circle fell quiet. Draco purposefully avoided Hermione's gaze, Hell bent on not giving her the satisfaction of non-verbally chastising him. She didn't get that option anymore. Not after picking up her bags and walking away.
"It was mutual," Weasley muttered.
"Mutual? Is that what you call it?"
"Oh, look! Time's up," Hermione interjected purposefully, pointing to the red smoke numbers as they blared 0:00.
"Granger, did you just bump up the clock?" he sneered accusingly at the witch.
She jumped up from her seat, raced over to the potion's closet, and rattled her fist on the door. "Time is up! Come on you two! Clothes on, now!" She turned towards the group of Slytherins and Gryffindors, face a pretty shade of cherry-pink. "I'm feeling a bit under the weather. I think I'll head home." Her heels clacked against the floor as she went to fetch her purse.
"Talk about the cowardly lion," muttered Theo, smirking.
"What was that?"
"Hmm. Oh. Nothing."
"He called you cowardly," Draco smirked right along with his friend, popping the top off a bottle of vodka and tipping the spout back. He ignored the burn and chugged three good swigs before he set it down and slid it over to Theo. "What?" he asked in reference to Hermione's glare. "You asked."
"I won't be goaded into staying," she said definitively.
"Of course you won't. It's what you're good at, isn't it? Leaving in the middle of things you volunteer yourself for?" He shot her a dastardly wink only she would see. "So go on, Granger. Off you pop, now."
"Oh, for the love of house elves!" She slammed her purse back down on the coffee table and sat back down in her spot amongst the circle just as Luna and Blaise emerged from the closet. Luna's pretty jumper was on backwards, and Blaise's tie was wrapped around his head like a bandana, the three bottom buttons of his shirt undone, as well as the zipper to his pants.
"Well," he grinned like a wolf, "Who's up next?"
The bottle sat in the middle of the circle, taunting all within reach of its sight, and Draco most of all. Especially since Blaise made the grave mistake of sitting next to him in the circle, thus cueing him up for next in line.
"Counterclockwise?" he suggested.
"Nice try, Malfoy." Potter grinned, enjoying the uneasiness set in Draco's tone. He pushed the bottle a bit closer with his foot and crossed his arms.
Fuck. Alright. He'd managed to get out of truth or dare this round. So, the best he could hope for right now was landing on someone like Pansy or -Oh, yeah. Daphne was here. He kept forgetting about her. Maybe seven minutes in a closet with her would be like being in a closet alone. Right. Hope for Daphne, he thought as he spun the bottle. Hope for anyone but…
The spout pointed directly at Hermione Granger. Fuck. What were the bloody odds?
Blaise chuckled, ribbing Draco in the side with his elbow. "You're up, lover boy."
"Piss off."
Hermione swallowed a hard lump in her throat as Potter leaned over and whispered something in her ear. She shook her head, eyebrows furrowing, and muttered, "I'm fine, Harry. Really." She turned her eyes back to the blond. "I still have my wand."
The two rose to stand, awkwardly, and exchanged nervous glances as they stayed rooted to their spots. Fuck. Why was it so hot in here? Should he open a window? With a nervous tug, Draco shrugged off his blazer and tossed it onto Blaise's head.
"I'll hold onto it," Luna offered, reaching over and plucking the clothing off of Blaise's face. "I'll be sure to bless it with a Native American chant to keep the perigolds from unraveling the seams."
"Fuck sakes…" Draco rolled his eyes and stomped over towards the broom closet. "Coming?" With leaded feet, Hermione shuffled across the room, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and allowed him to open the closet. "Ladies first."
He dragged his lips over hers, testing -taunting.
"It's called seven minutes in heaven, right?" He rested the fingerpads of his left hand around the curve of her arm, trailing them up her shoulder, the curve in her neck, brushing his thumb against her jaw. "Personally, I think this is my very own Hell, made just for me."
She sighed airily, staring into his eyes. "Why would you say such a thing?"
Draco's smirk widened. "I think you and I both know the answer to that." His free hand snaked its way down her side, resting gently on her hip.
His nose trailed down the length of her neck, ghosting his breath along her skin as he tugged her by the waist and drew her directly up to him, nearly chest to chest. He could hear the small intakes of breaths she was making, though it meant nothing compared to the feeling of her body heat shimmering against him like a dazzling sunbeam. "Just like old times, hmm? Though, my bedroom was a bit roomier."
Small hands ran up the length of his abdomen and fit right against his sternum -and then she pushed him off with startling force. Draco stumbled backwards, narrowing his eyes.
"Old time," she corrected, throwing a finger up. "I was in your bedroom once. Don't flatter yourself into the illusion it was anything more."
With newfound confidence, Draco smirked and straightened his posture, stepping forward. She stepped back. Forward. Back. Until her spine hit the cabinet behind her. That's when he leaned forward and whispered, "I recall at least three different occasions in which you found yourself beneath me."
"And none with our clothes off," she quipped, cheeks flushed.
"Clothing is optional…" His smirk dropped. "You truly despise me, don't you?"
"Why would you think that?" Her tone changed immediately, falling into an almost concerned cadance.
"You left."
"I… I did."
"Without a word."
"I'm sorry for that."
"Sorry?" He snorted a laugh. "Not a word. Not a letter. Not a single ounce of explanation."
"As if you cared!"
"Maybe I did!"
They both stared evenly at each other, and then Draco took another chance, reaching up to her chin to tilt her head up to meet his. "You broke me, Hermione Granger."
She shifted uncomfortably on her feet, searching his eyes. "Why tell me?"
"Because I want it to eat at your dazzling little soul." His entire body ached with the memory of her -the kiss. The kiss was where it all went downhill. If he hadn't kissed her, she might have stayed.
"Draco…"
The sound of his name on her tongue was torture; it reminded him what could have been.
"What happened between us," she continued, "It was lust. It was foolish lust, and we shouldn't have acted on it."
"Is that what you think?"
"It isn't what I think. It's what I know."
"You want to know what I know, Hermione?" He used her name as a weapon as he reached out and play with a loose strand of hair, wrapping it between his fingers with interest. "I know you feel something for me. And I've been avoiding you all night because I thought, perhaps, it was best to leave you alone, but…" He released the curl and moved his leg forward, directly between her legs. Hermione made the mistake of scooting back because there was nowhere to run, which only gave him the advantage to move his body right up against hers and cage her frame with his long arms. His hands rested on a potion shelf at about waist-level, and his nose pressed directly against hers. "I can't leave you alone. Not until you tell me why."
"W-Why what?"
"Why you left." He tilted his face. "Why you couldn't have the decency to tell me it was over."
"Draco-"
He nipped at her lower lip with his teeth, and she gently moaned in response.
Knock knock knock!
"Time's up!" came the desperate voice of Ronald Weasley from the other side of the door. "You good in there, Mione?"
Draco smirked, licking a line up the apex of her lips. "Yes," he whispered, "Are you?"
Her eyes were closed, and Draco noted that her fingers were tucked in the waistband of his slacks. She came to quickly, though, and released him at once, turning her face towards the door. "I'm fine, Ron!" She stared into Draco's grey eyes and licked her lips absentmindedly, which only confirmed his suspicions: she wasn't as over all of it as she appeared. "You want to know why I left, Draco? Because you can't be trusted."
"What…?"
But it was too late -she brushed past him and was out of the closet within seconds -leaving Draco alone, like she had before, sexually, emotionally, and spiritually fractured.
Six Months, Twenty Eight Days Ago
Draco Malfoy paced back and forth in front of his floo, counting down the minutes until it would be appropriate to step through and meet her -for 'drinks'. Oh Merlin, what did 'drinks' mean? Did it mean simply that? Drinks? Were they supposed to sit idly amongst each other's company and chit-chat? Was 'drinks' taken as a code for a foolish romp between the sheets in the form of a sweet-as-sugar quills rebound? Draco could handle being a rebound. He was confident enough in his sexual conquests that if she were to give him one opportunity to bed her, she would never be satisfied with anyone else, ever again. And what sort of drinks were they to partake in? Shots? Sips of brandy? Wine? Wine seemed intimate, which is where he wanted this to go, but it was far too soon for anything like that…
"You alright there, Draco?" asked Blaise, his flatmate. The blond nearly forgot his Slytherin counterpart was here, seated across the living room on one of the three expensive sofas, legs propped up on the coffee table as he read a Playwitch magazine. "You look… clean."
"I always look clean," he grumbled.
"Cleaner than usual, I mean. Like you literally washed behind your ears."
"Of course I did," Draco narrowed his eyes. "I'm not a barbarian."
Blaise rolled his eyes and pushed the magazine up to his eyeline. "Who's the lucky witch?"
"Who said anything about a witch?"
"You're dressed in your finest 'casual' clothes, pacing a floo, and you keep checking the time until you can leave. You're either meeting up with a witch or you're anxious about… a bloke?" Draco flicked his finger and, with a bit of magic, sent Blaise's skin-mag flying over his head and behind the sofa. Blaise scowled but didn't move to retrieve it. "So a witch, then. Why aren't you keen on telling me? I'm your best mate!"
"Hardly."
"We live together."
"Because I didn't see fit to live with my parents a moment longer, and your mother happened to have this flat on the market through her realtor."
"You sure know how to make a guy feel special…" the dark-eyed wizard muttered. And then he smirked. "Oh. Ohohohohohohoho ho!"
"You alright there, Saint Nicolas? Should I get you a candy cane and pair it with some elves?"
"You're seeing her, aren't you?"
Panic struck through Draco, and he glanced away quickly, appearing nonchalant. "Who?"
"Granger! You're seeing Granger!"
"Why in the seven Hells would I be seeing Granger?"
"Because," Blaise's smirk turned into a smile that gleamed from ear-to-ear. "My friend works in the same department at the Ministry that Granger does. And she might have let it slip the other night after some… fun… that Weasley and Miss-priss split. And I never see you this chirpy."
"Chirpy?"
"Chippy."
"I'm not chippy."
"No, you walk around like you have a chip on your shoulder, don't you?" Blaise rubbed his chin thoughtfully, shrugging. "Fine, it's not Granger. Who is it then?"
Draco glanced to the clock -one minute till. A smirk trailed up his lips as he gathered up the floo powder, tossed some onto the hearth, and turned his head back towards his friend. "Yeah, alright. It is Granger." But he didn't wait to see his friend's reaction -he stepped through the floo quickly and said at once, "Three Broomsticks!"
"Right. Who's next?" Blaise rubbed his hands together, thoroughly satisfied with his time in the closet and eager to get someone else into it. He shot Luna a devilish wink which had Theo popping open a top off a bottle of gin and chugging it down barbarically. The infamous firewhiskey bottle, laid in the middle of the circle, now went in the order of Blaise, Draco, Loony, Potter… Hermione… Padma, Weasley, Pansy, Theo, and -shite, why did he keep forgetting about Daphne? Her sister, Astoria, wasn't nearly as forgettable.
"Luna, looks like you're up next," encouraged Potter, a small tinge of blush on his cheeks.
"Really, Potter, don't appear so eager," Pansy said, voicing what the other Slytherins were thinking. "It just makes you appear desperate."
"Hey!" He pushed his glasses up his nose and glared over at the raven-haired witch. "I'm just trying to get this over with so we can all get back to the party."
"No one's stopping you," Draco pointed out, reaching for his bottle of vodka that had been passed around and currently resided with Granger. He snapped his fingers impatiently, and she furrowed her brow as she handed it back. With a smirk on his face, Draco maintained full eye contact with her as he took a sip and, this time, relished the delicious burn in his throat. "Well, Loony. We're all waiting."
"Luna," she corrected, as if the fact that he basically called her crazy never flittered across her mind. WIth a smile, she reached out, spun the bottle, and watched it go around in quick circles. Everyone's breath caught, and, to everyone's shock, the bottle landed on Pansy.
"I thought the bottle was spelled to land on members of the opposite sex," said Hermione, a crease between her brows.
"You hiding something between your legs we don't know about, Parkinson?" Weasley smirked, to which Potter spit out his bourbon and laughed. The redhead's eyes turned to Draco. "You dated her, didn't you? Had no idea you enjoyed a bit of wood between the thighs."
"I am not a man!" Pansy shouted at once.
"Technically," said Theo, "when we spelled the bottle, we set it to the gender of choice."
Luna grinned from ear-to-ear as all eyes turned on her. "I enjoy everyone's company equally." There wasn't a hint of humility on her face. Just joy and a dazed expression. But then again, she always wore one of those.
"But I'm not interested in women," Pansy insisted, throwing her hand out as if the gesture would solidify her words.
Theo smirked wider. "We never said you were, Pans. But the rules are the rules, and Lovegood's landed on you." He leaned in and winked. "You lucky witch."
Pansy rolled her eyes, stood, and said in a superior tone, "Come on, Lovegood. You should feel honored to be graced in my presence. At least you're a pureblood…"
Luna pushed herself up to stand and ran her hand over Blaise's head as if she were playing hippogriff, hippogriff, dragon before following Pansy across the room and into the closet.
"Truth or dare?" Theo suggested, not waiting for a reply before adding, "Great. I say Blaise goes first. Truth or dare, mate?"
"Er-"
"-Truth? Great." Theo smacked his palm down on the floor. "Just how far did you get with Luna in that closet?" There was a definite agitation in his tone, peppered with desperation.
Blaise, in turn, smirked a smirk worthy of any Slytherin and shrugged nonchalantly. "Further than you've ever gotten with her, that's for sure."
"Answer the question!"
"I did. You weren't specific enough." Zabini licked his lips. "Though, if you want all the details, I can attest she has some perky mounds hidden underneath that sugarless jumper-"
"-You've answered the question," Hermione interrupted, throwing up her wand to set the timer. "Would you, kindly, focus?"
"Yeah, I'll focus. Truth or dare, Theo?"
"Ha. Like I'd pick truth with you. Dare."
Draco snorted a laugh, gingerly sipping from his bottle between chortles.
"Should I give it to him?" Blaise asked.
"Please do," Draco replied.
"Fuck," Theo muttered.
"I dare you to strip down to your birthday suit and streak the entire ballroom downstairs," said Blaise, amused as Theo paled exponentially. "Call it penance for being a smug bastard who thinks he can weasel in on my girl."
"She's not your girl," Weasley pointed out. "You made out in a closet with her."
"Well, it was a bit more than making out. Her ivory skin held against my ebony… well, I'll just leave the rest to your imagination." Blaise smiled fondly at the memory, while Theo whimpered audibly. "You have till the end of the timer, Theo. I'd start undressing. The Manor is pretty large, and you can't Apparate."
"Fuck sakes…" Theo, begrudgingly, scrambled over to the door, kicking off his dress shoes as he went while simultaneously pulling at his tie. "I'm just going to get naked out here, if it's all the same." And with that, he pulled the door open, stepped through, and slammed it shut.
"Wait," said Hermione, "How will we know if he did it? Is someone going to accompany him?"
"Oh, we'll know by the roar of laughter," Draco replied, shooting yet another wink in her direction. Both their eyes glanced up to the timer -only one minute had passed.
"Truth or dare, Harry?" asked Padma.
"Oh. Um. Truth? I suppose…"
"Aren't you and Ginny dating?"
Potter's eyes turned down to the floor. "Yeah, um… not so much. She's with Wood now…"
"Oliver Wood?" Draco raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. "I mean, it makes sense." The Golden Boy shot him an incredulous glare. "What?"
"Don't worry, Harry. I've got this." Ron Weasley nodded once, and then turned his sights on Draco. "Truth or dare, Malfoy?"
Shit. Draco thought about it. A dare by a Weasley sounded dangerous in comparison to a truth. A truth he could manipulate. "Truth, then."
Weasley smiled confidently, setting a nervous bubble in Draco's stomach. He set a smirk on his face to counter his sudden bout of nausea.
"What happened between you and Hermione?"
Numb. Draco went numb. His feet, his face, his hands, all blood traveled away from his extremities as a chill set Draco's entire body frozen in place. All of that extra blood now pumped tirelessly through his heart, making it work double time. Though he still wore that smirk, a bead of sweat formed on his brow. That. Smug. Fucking. Shithead. Draco was going to hex him into oblivion. He'd just need to make it look like an accident…
Six Months, Twenty-Eight Days ago… still.
Drinks, as it turned out, meant four rounds of butterbeer in a booth at the Three Broomsticks and Hermione delving into her childhood fear of heights due to falling out of a tree when she was nine years old. "It's when I began to show early signs of magic. The way I landed, I should have broken my ribs. I landed on a boulder the size of your ego…"
Draco smirked, leaning his chin on his hand as he listened to her drabble on, uncaring if she thought his ego was large. As long as she didn't assume anything on him was small, he could hardly care less. How many times had he dreamt of this moment? How many restless sleeps had he put up with before they actually became a reality? The dream he had earlier this week -the one of her showing up on his doorstep crying only to beg him to help her forget about her ex… it felt so vivid. Almost as vivid as her here, right now, across from him. Wait. Was this a dream too?
Unexpectedly to her, Draco took his head out of his hand and pinched his arm. Ouch! No. This was real. This was very, very real. "Thank Merlin…" he muttered.
"Come again?" she asked, raising an eyebrow while staring down at the slightly irritated skin of his forearm.
"I… nothing." He smirked. "Continue."
"You weren't even listening to me."
"Was so." He drew circles on the table with his index finger as he recited, "Your mother said you must have a guardian angel. Little did she know it was all logical." His smirk grew in size. "See, Granger? I'm listening."
A hint of pink stained her cheeks as she sipped on her butterbeer. After setting it back down on the table, she replied, "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"
Oh, you've no idea. "So…" He tried to think of the best way to approach the subject, which had been on his mind for most of the evening. "You and Weasley are no longer sitting in a tree?" She scowled, confused by his comment. "K.I.S.S.I.N.G.?"
"Oh." She managed to giggle behind her hand at the childhood rhyme, though her eyes were a bit redder around the edges as she shook her head. "No. No trees. No kissing." She folded her hands down on the table, though they were extended out towards the middle, where Draco's rested. He wondered if he was looking too much into it. Probably. "We've been having problems for some time now. I can't remember the last time we even held hands…" She released an airless, bitter laugh, staring down at her hands almost accusingly. "This 'break' is more like the last nail in the coffin. I'm not sure I could go back…"
Draco Malfoy wasn't a brave man. Bravery never ran in his family -however, running certainly did. Running away from every problem, every confrontation. Self-preserving that he was, he had the sudden urge to reach over the table and overlap her hand with his own. And then… he did. It was simple, unassuming, entirely comforting. To his amazement, her fingers split apart, allowing his own to weave between them. There was silence. Comfortable silence. Even if Draco's heart slammed against his chest like a horse forced to stay in a stable.
"Harry says I should forgive him," she said quietly, staring down at their hands. "Molly, Fred, even Ginny… they all think-"
"-Who cares what they think?" He cut her off. There was a pang of jealousy he knew he wasn't worthy of, but he shoved it deep down. Her eyes flickered up to his face, and he stirred in his seat restlessly, still not willing to untangle their fingers. "All my life, I've been told how to dress, how to think, who to date… It all gets a bit tedious, when you get down to it. I've learned to make my own decisions in life. You should, too."
A faint smile graced her lips. "Is that why you asked me out for drinks?"
She almost sounded as if she were flirting with him. When he raised his gaze to hers, he realized -she was. His serious expression settled into a confident smile. "Maybe."
*(*)*
His hands were in her hair as he trailed kiss after seductive kiss down the side of her neck, leaning her back against her own sofa as he crawled on top of her. Drinks, it turned out, weren't really drinks at all. They were a pretense to something far more exhilarating: being invited back to Hermione Granger's flat. Never in a million years did Draco actually think he'd make it this far in her doorway, let alone on top of her. He'd dreamed about such a moment, but never thought it would happen. Their tongues met in a flurry of sighs and moans, some of them Draco's. She tasted like butterbeer, chocolate, and magic. It was all so delicious he couldn't help but weave his fingers through her curls and tug lightly at them -just to ensure she was real. This was real.
He settled between her legs as she curled them around his waist, pulling him down on her so that he practically had to turn them on their sides to keep from falling onto her. Hermione, now pinned between the sofa and Draco, sighed contently into a slower, sultrier kiss. He released her hair to cradle the side of his head with one hand while running the other down the length of her body, tracing her shoulder, her stomach, her hip, her leg. There, he hooked it up and pulled their pelvises tight to each other. The attention he bestowed to her was rare for any Malfoy -his entire family was less physical when it came to showing adoration, but he needed her to know this meant something to him. Unlike the dreams he had, which usually paired with him calling her 'mudblood' (because, obviously his pureblood roots hadn't gotten on board, yet, with the fact that he craved a muggleborn witch), the real Draco was much more tender with his words as he broke away from a heated kiss to mumble, "Your hair looks less like a poodle today... " Fuck. What? Well, that came out lamer than he intended.
Hermione twisted up an eyebrow and giggled. "Thank you?"
"Erm. I meant it looks nice."
"You might need to work," she captured his lower lip between her teeth, "on your compliments."
He smirked. "Oh. Did you think I was trying to compliment you?" Draco brushed his nose against hers. "I'd never do such a thing."
"You wouldn't would you?" Hermione's hand reached down and found his on her outer thigh, bringing it between them to rest on her covered breast. He didn't need cueing as he began to knead her through her shirt, delighted in the shiver that ran up her spine.
"Does this mean I call you Hermione now?"
She planted a gentle kiss on his lips. "Is that what you want?"
"Amongst other things…"
Her fingers caressed down his shirt, hitching in the waistband of his trousers. "Is this wrong?" Her voice was contemplative. "What we're doing?"
"Does it feel wrong?"
"Not entirely."
"Then it isn't." He massaged her breast tenderly, causing her eyes to flutter closed. He looked at the situation strategically and saw his in. "I've seen the way you look at me… around the office." He brushed his lips down hers. "When you think I'm not looking. I notice, Hermione. I see it all." She quivered as his hand snaked down her stomach and crawled beneath her shirt, making a path up her smooth skin to her bra. Still, he noticed she didn't deny it. Concentrating on throwing himself into the action, he tilted his head and kissed her affectionately, all while slipping his fingers beneath her bra and cupping her bare breast. He loved the way she arched her spine in response, pushing herself further into his hand, practically begging for more contact. Merlin, if Blaise could see this, his jaw would surely unhinge. No. Wait. The thought of Blaise watching him in any capacity fooling around with Hermione Granger was revolting. Dear Circe, he really needed to work on his phrasing.
"Draco," he heard Hermione sigh, bringing his attention back around. Expertly, he rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making her writhe beneath him. "Mmm…"
"Ooh, listen to that," he teased amusingly. "You said my name." Without hesitation, he pushed himself further down on the sofa while hitching the hem of her shirt and bra up and over her breasts, exposing them. He dipped his head forward and caught her left breast in his mouth, lapping at it with his tongue leisurely to listen to her moan. There was a less than graceful discarding of clothing as he peeled the material over her head and over the edge of the sofa, followed by a shift in positions; Draco now rested comfortably on top of Hermione, nestled between her thighs, one arm propped between her and the back cushions to keep himself balanced. He leaned forward and flicked his tongue against her pebbled nipple before whispering, "Feel free to use it as much as you like."
The blushing brunette responded with a dull moan, her fingers twisting gently into his platinum-blond tresses. "Draco…" she whimpered, feeding into his carnal desires. Didn't she deduce what his given name on her tongue did to his body? His mind? His very soul? He wasn't sure when this near obsession with her first started. It could have been fourth year, when she'd walked into the Yule Ball wearing that periwinkle blue dress on the arms of Krum. It could have been the night he'd seen her bloody and near-broken that night at his parents' Manor when they were teenagers. It could have been when they were thrown together, yet again, a year ago, forced to work with each other in the patent department of the Ministry. No matter what it was, it commanded his body now as he captured her nipple delicately between his teeth. Her body responded with moans from her throat and thighs squeezing around his abdomen.
He wasn't entirely sure how far he should take this -his body told him as far as he could get, but his logic told him it would scare her off. He didn't want that. But he did want to leave a lasting impression. So, as any good Slytherin man would, he snaked his kisses between her breasts, taking them lower, down to her stomach, and even lower still, to the hem of her skirt. Her reply included labored breathing and fingers grasping at his hair in wanton desperation.
"I'd love to taste you," he admitted in a sheepish tone, but his eyes blared all-wolf. He placed a hand on each of her inner thighs and pushed outwards, spreading them wide. "May I?" His proper manners were only a formality -he planned to do it unless she shoved him off -which, at the moment, she was not. In fact, her hips bucked forward in earnest, and her eyes closed as she bit down on her lower lip. A smirk crawled up his lips, and he bundled her skirt over her thighs, exposing what lay beneath, clad in white, lacy underwear. Her skin was bare, smooth, and flushed with pink. She wanted him. Bad. How could his cock be any harder? Somehow, it still managed to stiffen more inside his pants. "You're wet." He let his eyes leave between her legs for a moment to see her cheeks turn red. How adorable.
His right hand moved up her thigh at a snail's pace, drawing the moment out before he rested his thumb against her covered clit and began to rub in small circles with just the right pressure. Hermione groaned, arching her back and panting, eating up his ministrations like a banquet. Speaking of banquets, Draco could hardly contain himself as he stared down at the glorious, oh-so-tempting folds just begging to be uncovered and sampled. He looped his thumb and tugged her underwear, slowly, down, exposing inch by sensual inch of her skin. When he finally had a view of that delectable looking clit, he dived right in, licking gingerly with attentive treatment.
"Ohhh…." she moaned above him, legs splaying further out in a subtle display of submission. Draco wasted no time in tugging her underwear the rest of the way down, momentarily sitting up so he could pull her legs above his shoulders and remove the damned things. With a smirk, he kept her legs rested on his frame as he moved back down and fed her kisses along her wet seam, parting it open with his tongue, enjoying the sweet and light taste that was Hermione Granger.
He went slowly, taking his time, feeling her out with lighter, then heavier, pressure of his tongue, seeing just what got her off. She appeared to enjoy all of it; her chest heaved with fervor, and her eyes found their way open to watch him with lustful intention. It took everything in Draco not to smirk as he ate her out. He found a steady rhythm with his tongue against her clit, and to change things up, he moved his fingers against her opening teasingly. She gasped as he slid his middle finger into her, curling oh-so-perfectly into her tight passage. His tongue continued its task as he worked his finger inside of her, finding the bundle of nerves which made her cry out in delight. Oh. Was she a screamer? He hoped so.
"D-Draco…" she moaned again, moving her hips in time with his finger. It made Draco's job that much easier, resting his tongue against her clit as she stimulated herself with it, all whilst he drove a second finger into her and made her mewl. "God, yes… like that." Hermione sounded desperate for release -for his touch -for him. It was everything he ever dreamed of, and so much more. Now he had been given a taste, figuratively and literally, he didn't think he could put down his drug of choice: Hermione Jean Granger.
He picked up the pace with his fingers, still working them against the erogenous zone inside of her while he kissed and nibbled and licked at her clit with excitement. She tightened around him, and he took pleasure in knowing he was about to bring her over the edge in such a short amount of time. He took it as a sign that he knew what he was doing, rather than the other option: it'd been so long since someone pleasured her, so she responded to any stimulation with joy. No, it was definitely his technique.
"Mmm… come for me, Hermione," he encouraged between caresses of his tongue. "Scream while you do it."
And, just like that, she no longer held back her moans. They filled the room, along with zealous screams and pants and wanton sighs. Her hips arched up to meet him, and Draco slowed down his movements to carry her over the last hurdle, pulling out all of the sensual stops, caressing her inner thigh with his free hand while simultaneously slipping his fingers in and out of her with tenacity. Her thighs clenched up, unexpectedly, and her back arched completely as she came undone, clenching around his fingers while shouting his name. "Draco!"
A dastardly smirk found its way to his lips as he lapped at her juices, leaving no bit of her untouched by his tongue as she rode out her orgasm. The scream turned to a moan, which softened into a whimper, and when she rested still beneath him, he left one final kiss to her pulsing bud and trailed kisses up her stomach, her chest, her neck, and, finally, to her lips. She kissed him back with just as much passion behind her, fingers stroking gently up and down his face and neck in the process. It took them several minutes to come down from the high of kissing, but when they did, Draco leaned over to whisper in her ear, "Drinks next Friday alright with you?"
He heard her express an airy laugh and felt her nod against him. "I could pencil it in."
"I haven't the foggiest clue what you mean," Draco replied, pretending to scratch his nose to cover up the fact he wanted to use his fists to remodel Weasley's face. He glanced up at the clock to notice there was still five minutes left. Fucking shame. He really would have to get nasty to avoid answering with the whole truth.
"Oh, don't play the Saint card, Malfoy," The red-headed dolt sneered, scrunching his face up in ways that made him resemble a shar-pei. "What was all that out in the hallway, then?"
"Hallway?" Hermione turned her face in Ron's direction, concerned.
"Malfoy, basically, said something went on between you two."
"Didn't you say I insinuated?" Draco smirked.
"And you said you were practically saying it outright."
"Alright, Weasley. I'll play your little game." He took a big swig from his vodka bottle, and his eyebrows shot up momentarily as he blinked back the burn that traveled through his nose. Fuck. That… was some strong stuff. "We went out for drinks. That satisfy your curiosity?"
"Not by a longshot."
"Why do you care, Ron?" Hermione snapped at once, startling both men. "You're with Padma now. What goes on between me and other people is no longer your concern."
"Oh. So something did go on." Weasley eyed the two suspiciously. "What was it?"
Six Months, Twenty-One days ago
"Mmmm… Fuck, Hermione."
Draco found himself in the most erotic, and surprising, of positions that night. It was supposed to be an official date. He'd brought her a single, red rose, taken her out to walk about Hogsmeade, and then sat in a coffee shop with her for more than two hours talking school, politics, and work. So how did he managed to find himself in a cozy alcove between two buildings with Hermione tucked between his legs, fingers around his cock as she sucked him off? This wasn't where he intended on this going this evening, but he wasn't going to complain.
Instead, he twisted a lock of her hair around his finger and watched the witch take all of him in. It was a glorious sight with her lips wrapped around the base of his cock as she lodged him down her throat with skill. He was oh-so-tempted to close his eyes, but he didn't want to miss a moment as she slurped her way up to the tip and licked along the tip gingerly. "You like that?" she asked, her voice seductive.
Draco struggled to find a voice, but when he did, it came out husky, as if gravel were grinding in his throat. "I never want you to stop."
They never broke their gaze into each other's eyes as he put a hand on the back of her head and guided her forward, and she took him in again, widening her mouth to fit him all in. There was a thrill between them at the thought of being caught, and with a smile traced around her lips, she bobbed her head forwards and backwards, building up a pace as she swallowed him again and again. Her tongue, between the movements, lapped hungrily underneath his cock. Her hands, at the same time, tugged his trousers down further, freeing his testicles. Hermione began to massage them carefully, her warm palm countering the cold air.
"Oh, fuck," he gasped, throwing his head back into the wall. It hurt, but the way her mouth and hands worked him made him forget all about the pain. All that mattered was her soft lips putting themselves to good use (besides quipping with him). He slowly began to move his hips, encouraging her to take him deeper, to which she did eagerly. Draco had no idea what egged this one, but he was going to milk this -pun intended- for all it was worth. "Don't stop, Mione. Fuck. Yeah. Like that…" The hand behind her head drifted up, resting it on top of her curls in a show of submission to her. He let her take control, sucking him how it pleased her, and took pleasure in knowing she wanted it. Like a kid in a candy store, he wasn't going to complain with whatever he received. Just knowing there was something in her that wanted him fed into his ego in exponential ways.
Her mouth began to work faster on him, adding much needed pressure, savoring his cock like it was the last lolly-pop in the world. Concentrating, her pretty eyelashes splayed out along her cheek as she pinched her eyes shut. Draco bit down on his lower lip, encouraging her with his words. "Mmm… more… yes, fuck yes… Bet you love eating this cock, don't you, Hermione?" He began to pant. She groaned in response. "Yeah, you're a cock hungry little witch, aren't you? Ah… couldn't even -ohh… wait till we… ah… got back to your place…"
Her movements stopped almost immediately, and Draco whimpered in protest as she opened her eyes and glanced up at him, completely serious. "Why my place?"
There was hardly any blood left in his brain, so it took him a moment to register her question. "What…? Oh. Um. I have a roommate…" He shut his eyes tight, trying not to lash out and say something about her sudden betrayal to not suck him off. "He's… he's a tosser."
"You don't live at the Manor?" she asked, her interest peaked. Draco was thoroughly irritated the conversation turned this direction instead of on his cock.
"No." He shook his head, spouting out quickly, "I babysit the Manor when my parents are out of the country, but otherwise no. -Can… can we get back to the part where your lips are around me? Please?" He pried his eyes open and graced his hand down her cheek, coaxing her. "Please." Though, this time, it wasn't a question. More of a demand. Hermione smiled up at him and set back to work, slipping him into her mouth and nearly making him come right then and there. The warmth of her quickly made up for any betrayal he felt earlier, and it didn't take him long before he was thrusting his cock into her throat, her face buried in the soft, trimmed curls of his pubic hair. And that's when he came, spilling his seed down her throat, whispering her name in between a slur of groans and curse words. She took every bit of hit, moaning against his cock, vibrating him in such a pleasurable way that he was sure he could go for another round in twenty. Her throat contracted, swallowing his cum and stimulating the already very sensitive organ in her mouth. Carefully, Draco slid out and down her tongue, where she lapped at the tip and collected any remaining bits of cum that remained. He released a satisfied chuckle, brushing the tip against her lips as he said, "You enjoy that?"
"More than anything," she muttered, closing her eyes for half a moment as he caressed her cheek with his fingers. "You?"
He downright laughed and nodded his head vigorously. "Ohhhhhh, yes." He smiled downto her. "Exceeds Expectations rating. No, scratch that. Outstanding."
"None of your business is what it is," said Draco, deciding that playing into Weasley's goading wasn't getting him anywhere. "It was just drinks." He stole a glance at Hermione -saw the look in her eyes that said 'thank you for not going into detail'. Psh. As if he would. He hadn't even told Blaise about any of it, so why would he care to let a bunch of party brats in on the secret?
"That's not entirely true, is it?" said Potter, perking up in interest. "I vaguely recall seeing you two out about six months ago…"
The tension in Draco's stomach moved all the way up to his throat, and he shot a quick glance at Hermione, who was suddenly extremely fascinated by the skirting of her dress.
Oh, what a tangled web they weaved.
Six Months, One Day Ago
Draco Malfoy rubbed his hands together, attempting to warm them as a gust of evening air hiked up the busy street and directly into his face. The last three dates, if he could call them that, with Hermione Granger went splendidly. Sure, the first two times, there had been some.. Action. But he'd been a perfect gentleman on their last outing, treating her to the planetarium to watch the stars twinkle. He even received a hefty makeout session at her front door, but nothing else. And, to his surprise, Draco was fine with that. While he fantasized about bending the witch in nearly every position under the sun (even one called the 'wheelbarrow') he enjoyed simply spending time with her in any capacity.
Tonight, as he Apparated to her flat, he found her seated on her sofa, dressed in a seductively low cut, ivory dress that complimented her skintone in just the right way. Her legs were tucked up underneath her, and in her hands was a thick book. No surprise there. She glanced up when she heard him Apparate and smiled warmly. "Hello."
A lopsided smile was his reply, followed by, "You look nice."
"Better than a poodle?" she chided.
He snorted a laugh. "Oh, I wouldn't go that far. -How was work?"
"Work was… work." She shrugged, setting the book down beside her on the coffee table before patting the spot next to her. As Draco crossed the room and plopped down next to her, she continued, "Although, I am up for a promotion."
He scooted closer, leaning forward to kiss along her exposed shoulder. "Look at you. Such a workaholic."
She sighed breathlessly as his kisses became more passionate and trailed up her neck. A hand came up and pushed against his chest, and he leaned upright, catching her gaze. It wasn't adoring as per the usual -Hell, it wasn't even lustful. It was serious and carried weight. "They'd want me to fly out to meet with a representative in America."
"America. Wow." He feigned an impressed tone, but inside his heart was slamming wildly. "So you'd be gone… what? A week?"
"Longer," she admitted, tucking a curl behind her ear.
"Oh." He tried to hold back a frown, but failed miserably. "How long, then?"
"I'm not sure." She shook her head, blushing. "I mean… It's an amazing opportunity. I could help a lot of people. My work with house-elf liberation would finally be taken seriously, and I could construct new bylaws to prevent the mistreatment of magical creatures." Her eyes searched his, and she blushed even more. "Of course, that's if I even accept the position."
"Will you?" he asked immediately. He cleared his throat, embarrassed, and said with less firmness, "Will you, though? Accept the position? It… sounds like a great opportunity."
"It is." She nodded. "And I'm not sure. I… moving away from my friends? My family? My…" Her voice trailed off as she averted her eyes. Her what? He wondered. "Well, it all seems like a really big step. I have so much here, and yet… I don't, do I?" Her eyes swam with thoughts, and she rambled off, "Harry is never around because he's a full time Auror. And Ginny's off on Quidditch tour, and Ron…" She scowled. "Ron and I are... " Swallowing a lump in her throat, she glanced up at Draco. "And you…"
"Me?" he asked, forgetting how to breathe.
"You're not at all the way you were in school."
He released a nervous chuckle and quirked an eyebrow. "I take it that's a good thing?"
"It's… an amazing thing, actually." She reached over and took his hand, weaving her fingers together with his. "When I began as your patent lawyer, I had no idea you would be so… this." She gestured with her free hand to him. "Thoughtful. Caring. Considerate."
"Sexy?" he offered with a smirk.
She rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. "Perhaps that, as well."
"So…" He raised her hand up to his lips and kissed along the knuckles. "Don't think about it right now. Let's just… go out. Have a nice evening. -My parents are out of town, and I planned to show you the family library."
Both of her eyebrows raised. "Your family has their own library?"
"Hundreds of rows of books, just ripe for the picking," he offered.
She nodded. "Alright." A grin spread across her face. "That sounds lovely, Draco. Thank you."
It would be the last night he saw her -up until this evening. Draco took a swig of his vodka, trying to remember where it all when horribly wrong.
The timer above their heads blared three minutes to go.
Fuck. This night would take for fucking ever. And all he wanted to do was get her back in the closet again to figure out why she abandoned him like a worthless, frightenedkneazle on the side of the street.
And to those of you who are wondering, YES! This is a continuation/ stand-alone sequel to A Touch of Bourbon! If you haven't read the one-shot, feel free to give it a go. XD Both of these stories can stand on their own, or pair together. XD
Hope you love it, Light! XD One more chapter to go!
~A.
P.S. -Reviews, favorites, and follows are always welcome. :)
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The Closet Relativity Theory