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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
- 2
- 3
Here it is! The final installment of The Closet Relativity Theory. Once again, I would like to give a big, warm shoutout to waymay for proofing this for me, even when she isn't feeling her best. *hearts* Hope you love it, LightofEvolution!
All the answers. Here we go. XD
~A.
Part Three: There and Back Again
Nobody ever knows
Nobody ever sees
I left my soul
Back there now I'm too weak
Most nights I pray for you to come home
Praying to the Lord
Praying for my soul
Now please don't go
Most Nights I hardly sleep when I'm alone
Now Please Don't Go, oh no
I think of you whenever I'm alone
So please don't go
"Please Don't Go" by Joel Adams
There comes a time, in every new relationship, when a choice is made: whether to continue and see it flourish, or call it off and watch it die. It's protocol, Draco thought to himself. Common decency. But what she did to him was neither. There was no 'I think we should see other people' or 'I see you as a friend' or 'I'm packing up all my shit and leaving you, you worthless peice of Death Eater garbage.' Even that would have given him a door to slam shut. As it were, she left all the doors to his heart swung wide open, and over the course of the last six months, Draco wasn't sure whether to close them, leave them open, or burn the bloody house down.
A roar of laughter erupted from downstairs, startling all in attendance and drawing attention away from Hermione and Draco's uncomfortable predicament.
"Sounds like Nott did the job," said Blaise, impressed. "Daphne, it's your turn."
"What?" Weasley glared, annoyed. "He didn't answer my question."
"I did." Draco crossed his arms. "You don't like my answer, take it up with my foot. You'll find it shoved up your obnoxious arse."
"Settle down, you bellends. All of you cock strutting over this prissy little bint." Gesturing to Hermione, Blaise gave an incredulous smirk. "Draco answered the question. Weasley, get the fuck over yourself. If Granger wants his cock, nothing you can do about it. Word around the Ministry is you can't keep it in your pants, so why do you care what goes on in hers?"
"I don't need to take this from you," Weasley sneered back. "From any of you. You've got-"
"Stop it!"
The circle grew quiet as Hermione Granger slammed her hand down on the floor, her cheeks as scarlet as Weasley's hair. "I'm right here, you know! -Zabini, you're about as loose as an oversized condom! You are in no position to judge Ron. -And you, Ronald." Her voice reverberated with furiosity, making the redhead blanch. "As much as I hate to admit it, Zabini is correct! You have no say in what I do, who I see, or anything in between!" Then her eyes fell on Draco, and he wasn't sure whether to be frightened or turned on by her smoldering glare. "And you."
After a yawn, Draco replied, "Me?"
"I… I honestly have no idea what to say to you." She stood up from the circle, straightened her skirting down her lap, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm going to go home."
Draco's heart withered miserably.
"Hermione-" began Potter, but she cut him off.
"-No. I'm leaving." Her heels clacked as she strutted to the door.
As she reached for the handle, Blaise nudged Draco in the side and whispered, "You're just going to let her leave? Like that?"
He opened his mouth to speak, but the door was already swung open and then shut.
Much like the night she walked out on him.
Six months, one day ago
"Hermione?"
Draco cringed, seated in a corner booth of Madam Mystique's lounge, thoroughly convinced he might be in another dream. Or rather, a nightmare, because it involved the irritating voice of Harry Potter as he stepped up to the table, two martini glasses tucked in his hands, and a look of confusion shrouding his face.
"Harry!" Hermione nearly jumped out of the booth, forgetting it wasn't a chair, but when her knees hit the table, she was forced to sit back down. Good thing, too, because Draco's hand, tucked precariously under her skirt while it played with her slick folds, managed to slip a finger into her when she stilled once again. There was a tablecloth covering the obvious, so there was another thing to be thankful for.
"Hey." Potter glanced between Hermione and her date, skeptical. "Everything alright?"
"Of course it is," sneered Draco, curling his finger inside of the brunette while simultaneously sipping from his glass of scotch with his free hand. He smirked against the glass as her legs clamped tight around his hand, perhaps in warning but most likely in pleasure. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"I… Look, I know you two work together, I just…" The crease between Potter's eyebrows was nothing short of entertaining. "This is a bit distasteful, isn't it?" Could he figure out what was going on under the table by Hermione's face alone? "I mean, you and Ron just split up a month ago…"
"Harry," she said, once again squeezing Draco's hand with her legs to still his movements (momentarily). "Draco and I are just having drinks."
"Draco." He repeated the name, eyebrows forced together so they resembled a unibrow. "You call him Draco now."
"It's called growing into adulthood, Potter," Draco smirked. "You should try it sometime."
"Malfoy, kindly, butt out. This doesn't concern you."
That caused a flare in Draco's stomach. He removed his fingers from Hermione's pulsing center, resting it instead on her thigh, possessive. "Seeing as how the lady is here of her own accord, and I'm the one who asked her here, I think it quite concerns me."
"Now she's a lady to you?" Potter's right eyebrow shot up. "What about all the years you called her anything but?"
"I'm a grown adult, Harry. I can make my own decisions." Hermione's voice spoke with confidence. "Right now, that involves drinks with Draco."
Potter looked between the two, sighed, and muttered, "Whatever. Ginny's never gonna believe this…" He stomped away from the table, irritated beyond all reason.
Draco took another pull of his scotch. Hermione brushed her dress down her knees, flushing magenta. She cleared her throat, took a sip from her wineglass, and stared down at the chocolate cake split between them.
"So… your friends don't know about us." He gave a cold chuckle. "Surprise, surprise." His chest tightened, and the tips of his fingers grew cold. He couldn't shake the feeling of a let down.
"In my defense, that's the first time I've spoken to Harry face-to-face since before you and I began... " Hermione folded her hands in front of her, on the edge of the table, finally meeting his gaze. "Are you cross?"
"Should I be?" He mulled it over, asking himself more than her. "I'm not sure I have room to be." But then, why was he? He wasn't much better. Although he did tell Blaise. Of course, he lived with the sod, so it was damn near impossible to hide something like going out every weekend. "Hermione. I like you. Despite myself, I like you."
"Oh, thank you," she drawled sarcastically as she sipped her wine, a slight smile at the corner of her lips.
"I wasn't finished." He set his glass of scotch down at the table and took one of her hands, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles thoughtfully. He wasn't sure how to word his feelings. He didn't want to share too much too soon, but he wanted to get a few things straight with her. He needed her to know something. "What we're doing… it means more to me than what I lead on."
"Define more." She raised a curious eyebrow, her eyes twinkling.
"Well, I'm not seeing other witches," he admitted sheepishly, covering it up with his aristocratic drawl.
"What luck. I'm not seeing other witches, either." She smirked.
He laughed. "Good. So we're both not seeing other witches. -I'd like to go on record saying I'm also not seeing any wizards as well."
"That makes two of us." She leaned her chin in her hand and grinned. Draco's confidence soared like a dragon in flight, whizzing around their heads as he leaned in and kissed her chastely on the lips. And then again, more seductive.
*(*)*
Dinner and drinks, once again, turned into a pleasant make out session, this time canoodled inside the library of the Malfoy Manor with Hermione's back pressed against a bookshelf of nonfiction biographies from the Eighteenth century. Draco split the seam between her lips with his tongue, encouraging her mouth open as a hand caressed her sensational backside and pulled her ever so close to his tented trousers. His other hand braced the bookshelf for support as he leaned forward, pressing his torso against hers. It was a bit awkward, because doing so pinned his hand between her luscious ass and the shelf, but it was worth it to hear the enticing whimper escape her lips as she drew back her face to search his eyes.
"This is a magnificent library," she said before reaching back, grabbing the back of his hair, and driving his face forward into a clash of lips, tongue and teeth. The passion built up behind her as she snaked her free hand around his hips and rested it inside his back pocket forced him to tense his body in order to keep from ripping off her dress there and then.
Between a flurry of flustered kisses, Draco smirked and replied, "Glad you like it." He caught her upper lip between his teeth and tugged slowly. "If you think this is impressive…" He freed his hand from between the bookshelf and hitched her leg up around his hip, pooling the skirting of her dress to her thigh. "-You should see my personal collection."
"Personal collection?"
"In my bedroom."
Hermione giggled between kisses, running her fingers up and down the back of his neck. "Draco Malfoy. Are you trying to seduce me?"
"Trying? I'm fairly sure I already have," he shot her a wink before rubbing his nose against hers. "I don't want to rush you, though." He paused his movements momentarily, contemplating how to word his feelings. "I understand you have a lot on your mind at the moment." He searched her eyes, looking for any tell that she was actually considering leaving the country. There had been a panic built up in him the entire night, and each moment felt as if it was slipping through his hands, like sand in an hourglass. Any second with her could be his last. He didn't want this to end -not when he pined over the fantasy of her for so long. Now, he had her in his sights, beneath his frame, and yet she still wasn't his. Not really. He didn't know what he would do if she took that promotion. Crumble? It felt like the biggest possibility.
"Even… if we did go… to your bedroom," she said, pausing as she thought it through, "We don't have to… to take it further."
"No." He shook his head, delighted she would even consider it at all. "Although, I'll still have to make a convincing case for it." His smirk paired with him moving her hand from his hips, directly over his stiffened erection. She hitched a breath, raising a nearly impressed eyebrow.
"Pretty convincing."
"Isn't it?" He chuckled, pushing himself off the bookshelf, and, thus, away from her. He offered out his hand, grey eyes glistening in the candlelight.
"Is this the part where you ask me to come up and look at your extensive chocolate frog card collection?"
"I've offered you books, woman. You want cards, too?"
They laughed as he curled an arm around her and guided her out of the library with a pop of Apparition. They landed at the top of a grand staircase of the East Wing.
"This way," he encouraged, backing away from her to loosen the top button of his shirt, all whilst grinning seductively. He beckoned her, then, with an offer of his hand, and she took it, eagerness etched in her eyes. Draco was quite sure this could be a dream from the compliance she gave him, but he was far too nervous to pinch himself and see. He wanted this to be real. The closer they were to his childhood bedroom, the more it solidified in his mind that this was real. Time, while it had blinked by in the library, crawled to a dazzlingly slow speed in the hallway -until, finally, his hand reached for the door handle. That's when her hand squeezed in his, and time sped back up, reminding him she could be gone tomorrow. Never to return. He'd make sure she never wanted to leave him- er, Britain.
The door creaked open, and he snapped his fingers, lighting a few candles up near the mantle of his bedframe to illuminate the room. Hermione gasped when, at the same time, hundreds of twinkling faux stars began to glisten on the ceiling.
"When I was a child," he explained, leading her in and shutting the door behind her. "I was fascinated with stars. Astronomy has always been a… passion of mine."
The corners of Hermione's lips tugged up as she stared evenly at the ceiling. "Would your name being crafted after the star constellation have anything to do with that?"
He chuckled. "Could be." Draco stepped up behind her, breath ghosting the back of her neck while he slid a comfortable hand around her stomach and pulled her close. "It's not as egotistical as it sounds."
"I, highly, doubt that," she mused, even as he leaned forward and began to trail soft kisses down the length of her neck. Draco ignored the quip, concentrating on lining her shoulders with the same affection he bestowed to her throat. A soft sigh was her reply to his ministrations, along with a few muffled gasps as she placed her hand over her mouth to stifle herself. He reached up, guided the hand down, and bit possessively into the crook of her neck.
"No, no, Hermione. I want to be able hear you." His hand on her stomach slid further down to the apex between her thighs, right over her pulsing warmth.
Her head leaned back against his chest, and her brown eyes caught his while he pet her in the most intimate of places. "Can we talk?"
His hand stopped its movements, and he dragged it up her stomach, between her breasts, and finally, cupped her face. "Those are the most daunting words you've ever spoken to me." He curled her around to face him, and then led her to the edge of the bed. "Have a seat." His voice wasn't demanding. It was very much a request. She did, and he sat down next to her, giving them just enough space to breathe. "Alright. I've officially ceased my attempts to get into your knickers. Pray tell, what would you like to speak of?" Though he had a feeling he already knew…
"I've decided." She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. Draco stared inquisitively at the determination etched in her face, and his heart froze in his chest. "I'm not going to take the position."
Draco swore fireworks went off inside his chest. "Truly?" He sounded much like a boy given his first broomstick. "Why not?"
"Maybe there's more here for me than I thought." She leaned her face closer to his. "Am I right?"
The door swung open, and Hermione flew back into the room, her frizzy curls standing on end, resembling a porcupine. She was shoeless, holding one of her heels in her hand like a weapon ready to jam into someone's face. Her face was the color of her dress, and her eyes were as big as saucers. In a daze, she set her purse back down on the table she'd plucked it from as a Theo came through the doorway, grinning ear to ear while zipping up his fly. "Get a good gander, Granger?"
"If you ever want to have children, Nott," Hermione said, brandishing her shoe, "you'll stay away from me."
Blaise grinned. "Back so soon?"
"Shut up." She threw her shoes down to the floor and glanced at the clock. Thirty seconds left. "Nott wouldn't let me out of the hallway."
"I told you, all you had to do was kiss the merchandise."
"You're disgusting."
"Is anyone going to ask me my truth or dare?" came an irritated, high pitch voice. All eyes turned on Daphne Greengrass, who sat stark still, arms crossed, anger blaring out her eyes like sirens.
"Sorry," said Potter, "but… um… who are you?"
"Really, Potter? Daphne Greengrass! We sat together in Potions on multiple occasions!"
"Truth or dare, Daphne?" asked Theo sincerely, buttoning the cuffs of his shirt.
Daphne huffed. "Oh, does it really matter? None of you care about me. I don't know why I'm friends with any of you. You're all such a bunch of whiny Slytherin brats!"
The timer above their heads flashed in a signal of completion, and it was Harry to leap up, still taken aback by Daphne's outburst at him, and make his way over to the closet to retrieve Pansy and Luna. Blaise exchanged glances with Theo, while Draco attempted to look anywhere else but at Hermione. It was Loony to emerge from the closet first, her jumper turned back around to its front, hair even messier, and an aloof grin on her face.
"That went quick!" she exclaimed happily, taking back her spot next to Blaise.
Pansy emerged next, perfectly kempt aside from a flourish of purple hickeys down her neck and a flush on her cheeks. She tilted up her nose in an 'I'm better than all of you' fashion, combed her bangs through with her fingers, and cleared her throat.
"How was it?" Theo asked excitedly.
"I haven't a clue what you mean," Pansy drawled, strolling back towards the circle. She walked with a slight wobble to her step, as if her legs were made of jelly. She took Potter's place in the circle, leaving him to begrudgingly sit between Theo and Daphne.
"Uh uh." Theo eyed the circle, staring at Pansy as she reached for the bottle. "No way. You're not getting a turn this time."
She scowled at him. "Why ever not, Theodore?"
"Because you just came from the closet! And don't call me Theodore! I've told you before. It's Theo."
"Luna got to spin after Blaise pulled her into a closet."
"Blaise wasn't actually playing, was he? He just took it upon himself to snatch up the kinkiest witch in the room." He winked at Luna. "No offence, love."
She smiled and hummed, "None taken, Theodore."
"I like it when you call me that."
Draco looked at next in line should Pansy be eliminated. Oh. Hermione? He debated on whose side he wanted to back -on the one hand, he desperately wanted to be back inside that closet with her. Once he got her alone, he might be able to set a few things straight. But, on the other hand, the likelihood of her landing on him was slim, at best. Fate wouldn't give them a second go around. Not with the luck Draco possessed tonight. What if she landed on Blaise? Or Potter? Or… Weasley? Six months separated, and the redhead still acted like her personal lapdog, despite their past.
Was he the reason she left? Could it not have been Draco at all? Or rather, that Draco came up dull in comparison to the one who broke her heart in the first place?
Six months, one evening ago. Roughly ten PM.
Draco had planned on bedding Hermione Granger tonight. It was his plan from the beginning -to seal the deal in case she should stay. But after her decision of staying was solidified with words, the desperation to move things quickly doused like a hot candle tossed in a bathtub full of ice cold water.
She would stay. Stay for him. Stay for them. Was this real? He blinked rapidly, panic shooting down his arms and legs.
"Pinch me."
She laughed, her eyebrows wrinkling. "What?"
"Just… do it." He added as an afterthought, "Please."
"I really do hope this isn't some sexual thing," she muttered, capturing the skin of his forearm and pinching roughly.
Draco winced. "OWWWwww…." Instinctively, he glared and brought his arm up to his chest to protect himself.
"Yes, it tends to hurt when you get pinched."
"Your fingers have the strength of an Amazonian."
"Are you calling me Wonder Woman?"
"Who?"
"Never mind." She smiled, tilting her head. "Our first night out together, you pinched yourself then, too. Why?"
He rubbed at his sore skin, eyeing it over for bruising. "You'll laugh."
"Maybe. But not at you." She patted him on the leg. "With you."
"I won't be laughing." He smiled, though less confident now. He considered it, took a moment to collect his thoughts, and admitted, "Sometimes… I have these… dreams." He shrugged, as if this was just a passing thought in conversation.
"Dreams? Oh? Well, that's alright, isn't it? What are they about?"
"...You."
He thought she might laugh. Or be horrified. Or both. But, instead, she merely stared evenly into his eyes and smirked. "Draco Malfoy dreams about someone other than himself?"
A chuckle escaped his lips. "Oh, I'm in them, too. Don't be mistaken." His chest felt weighted, like a brick was trying to smash its way into his torso, but he ignored it. "Some nights, I dream about… well…"
It didn't take her long to put two and two together. "Us. You dream about us."
"Erm… yes." He tugged at his collar -suddenly, it was much too hot in the room. He jumped up off the bed to open a window. As he unhooked the latch and swung the window open, he undid the cufflinks of his shirt, too. Merlin, it was scorching.
"What happens in your dreams?" she asked. Her voice held only curiosity, and… was he imagining it, or was there… playfulness there, too? One look in her direction confirmed his suspicions; she had scooted back on his bed, resting her back against the headboard, pinned between two pillows.
"Lots of things," he answered, feeling a smirk crawl up his lips. The metaphorical brick dropped to the floor, allowing him to breathe easy. "You usually end up right where you are now, one way or another." He tucked his hands in his trouser pockets and drank in the sight of Hermione Granger lying atop his bedspread, her dress skirting pooling precariously over her thighs, and an innocent, yet not so innocent, smile perched atop her face.
"And then what?"
Great Salazar himself, was she trying to test his ability to remain still? Because he was sure if she said anything else, or that dress moved up just one more inch, he'd be on her in an instant. "There's less clothes involved as well."
She kicked off her heels and tossed them to the floor.
He took a step forward. "A bit more than that, Granger." No, no! He was trying to be 'chaste', bloody damn it! He didn't need to rush this. He could handle himself. He could. Then why did he reach up to his shirt and begin to thread the buttons out of their loops, revealing his chest to her? Why did he continue to do so until his shirt was discarded like he would free all the house elves in the Manor with it? His feet carried him to the edge of the bed, where he shucked off his dress shoes clumsily all whilst Hermione watched. He climbed onto the bed, crawling over to her, hooking a leg over her hip so that he pinned her with his weight.
She didn't seem to mind. Her coffee-colored eyes glistened playfully back at him, though she kept her hands down at her sides. "What else?" she asked, biting on her lower lip.
Draco, like a wizard approaching a thestral, slowly raised his hand and cupped her cheek, caressing his thumb along her cheekbone. "Sometimes we talk. Other times, you're crying." There was something about her that made him tell the truth, though he knew better. "You always ask me to help you forget."
"Forget?"
"Sometimes it's the war." His other hand came up, then, and held the other cheek just as fragile. "Other times, it's Weasley. Once, it was about your mother's cooking." He watched her smile at that.
"So you dream about my misfortune?" she teased.
He leaned forward while simultaneously guiding her face closer to his. "I think you have it the other way around, Hermione. I dream about taking the pain away. I told you. I've watched you," he tugged on her lower lip with his teeth. "You smile. You charm the room.-But I see it in you, because it's in me, too." He closed his eyes and brushed his lips against hers, making her gasp.
"What do you see?" she whispered.
"You're lost." He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, letting his lips remain there as he spoke. "You're just another lost soul, trying to find their way in the world after being forced to be a child soldier." He inhaled the smell of her hair, allowing his fingers to trail down her neck, her shoulders, her arms, before he wrapped her in an embrace and held her tight against him. Hermione, much to his happiness, slinked her arms around his frame and held him back. Draco tucked her head under his chin, listening to the sound of her breathing.
"Is it that obvious?" she asked.
"Not to those that don't feel the same." He moved his face down to whisper into her ear, "I think it's what drew me to you. You understand the sacrifices made. You've seen the worst in me, and yet you still-"
"Shhhhh... Hold me."
And he did. He held her in his arms as he feared if he let go, she might disappear. He did release her, once, to shimmy them both under the blankets before cradling her against his chest and stroking lightly down her hair. The hand on the clock in the corner of his room moved to two in the morning in the blink of an eye. Hermione fell asleep some time ago, nuzzled into his chest, a leg tucked between his. Occasionally, she rubbed her cold feet against his ankles for warmth, and he fought back the urge to move. He wanted to hold her like this and remember it. If he fell asleep, she might be gone. Around four in the morning, she stirred lazily from her snooze and untucked her head to peer up at him.
"Mmm… hi."
"Hello," he smiled.
She wiped a bit of drool from the side of her mouth. "That's not embarrassing at all…"
"Hermione?"
"Hmm?"
"Why did you and Weasley break it off?" It was something that remained on his mind ever since their first outing. He hadn't wanted to bring it up in fear of reproach, but if she really was staying… well, he needed to know.
She sighed, rubbing her fingers up and down his back. "If… if you must know… Ron… I caught him fooling around with someone else."
It took Draco a moment to process the words. Someone else? "You mean it wasn't mutual?"
"I told everyone that to avoid the scandal." She chewed on the skin of her upper lip, refusing to look him in the eyes. "Could you imagine what the papers would do if word got out? They'd have a field day."
If Draco Malfoy got Ron Weasley alone in a dark corner, he'd have a field day. They'd be cleaning Weasley off the cement for months to come… "I'd never do that to you," he stated, slipping a finger beneath her chin to tilt her head up, forcing her to look at him. "You have my word on that."
A single tear slid down her cheek. "You can't promise me something like that."
"Too late," he smirked. "I just did."
Draco's decision was set. "Pansy, you've already had your romp in the closet. Let someone else have a bloody turn."
"Here, here," Theo shouted before taking a swig of his newly claimed bottle of Dragon Barrell Brandy. "Listen to the man, Pans. You're a guest in his home."
"His parents' home," she shot back, but crossed her arms and huffed. "Fine. I suppose it's Granger's turn, then."
Nine pairs of eyes found their way to the frizzy haired brunette, who looked more like a frightened pygmypuff and less like the brightest witch of her generation. "I don't mind skipping my turn. Honestly." Her eyes connected with Draco's momentarily before darting elsewhere.
"Rules are rules, Granger," Blaise said, enjoying his position as ringleader amongst this group of misfits. "Spin the bottle."
She rolled her eyes, leaned forward, and spun the bottle fiercely. Round and around it went as everyone watched on, except for Theo, who scrunched his face up and sneezed. "ACHOO!" Draco thought he could literally see bits of magic scatter from his fingertips as he swiped at his nose. "Bloody Hell. Should have never run around starkers. I've probably caught a cold."
"Just drink some chicken soup, Nott," offered Hermione, absentmindedly, as the bottle continued to spin, though it began to slow down. Draco watched in horror as it began it's deceleration to a crawl.
It landed, spout pointed directly at Draco.
What were the bloody odds?
"Seriously?" Weasley gawked, slack jawed, between the two. "Oh, come on!"
Draco stared down at the bottle, a mixture of elation and bewilderment pumping through his bloodstream. It landed on him. Again. What were the bloody odds? His eyes scanned around to his Slytherin chums, who all looked a bit too relaxed. No… they wouldn't… would they?
"Well, go on you two," said Pansy, gesturing towards the closet. "The sooner you two go in, the sooner we can all move on."
They both got to their feet, rather slowly, and made their way to the closet. Draco reached the door first, turning the handle gracefully while, finally, meeting her gaze. He settled on a smirk, followed by, "Apparently, the universe sees fit to put us together again."
She snorted indignantly and stepped inside, muttering, "Don't hold your breath."
And just like that, the elation Draco felt dispersed. In its place sat irritation. Aggravation. Loneliness. Merlin, she could be such a cold witch. With a heavy arm, he slammed the door shut as he stepped inside, knowing it would startle everyone and uncaring if it did. He lit up the tip of his wand with a lumos, cast a silencing spell on the closet, and glared at her. "Explain."
"What?"
"Explain it to me. How you can just stand there and act like you never cared about us."
"Ha! That's rich, coming from you." She poked him in the chest with her finger. "You have some nerve, Draco Malfoy."
"I have some -it's I have some nerve, is it?" He took a step closer. "Don't stand there and preach to me about the nerve of some people. I thought we had something!"
"I did, too!"
Silence filled the closet, suffocating them.
"Then why did you leave?" Draco asked desperately. He reached for her hand, but she withdrew from him, once again smacking her back against the potions shelves.
"Don't ask idiotic questions. I'm pretty sure it's obvious why."
"Not to me." He shook his head. "I, quite literally, bared my soul to you that night. Was it too soon? Was that it?" He watched her tear her eyes away from him, staring instead at a potions vial next to her head. "If I scared you off, you could have told me."
"That wasn't it."
"Then what was it?" Hopelessly, he boxed her in with an arm rested next to each of her shoulders. She tensed. He sighed. "I grow tired of asking the same question over and over. Tell me."
"I know there was someone else."
That floored him. "What?"
"Don't play the fool, Draco. It isn't becoming of you."
"Hermione… there wasn't anyone else." His heart stammered in his chest, and his eyebrows drew together, concerned. "I wanted you. Just you. I thought I made that obvious."
"It was obvious to me that was not the case when I overheard you and Zabini talking the next morning."
Six months ago
Hermione Granger awoke to the dim faux starlight of a lavish, four poster bed, Her head ached slightly as she wiped the side of her lip -she had begun to drool again. Glancing down, she saw she still wore her dress from the night before, and her undergarments were still very much intact.
She'd spent the night with Draco.
He'd held her. Comforted her. Confessed to dreaming about her, practically could have taken advantage of her in her delicate situation, but… he hadn't. He'd tucked her in his bed and let her drool on his arm.
But where was he now?
Hermione pulled herself out of bed when it dawned on her -she'd spent the night at the Malfoy Manor. This was where she'd been tortured during the war. Well, not this room, per say, but inside these walls. And yet, as she padded her way to the bathroom to freshen up, she felt no nervous tension. Only… content.
After a trip to the loo and a spell to comb through her curls, she went in search of him. Opening the bedroom door, the thick aroma of something foul hit her nostrils. Was there a fire? She dashed down the staircase two steps at a time in search of the culprit. Heading towards the front of the manor, she was surprised when she heard an exclaimed, "Shit!" erupt from the kitchens. It was Draco. Definitely Draco.
All she had to do was follow her nose to the archway of the kitchen, but a second voice caused her to pause just short of it and lean up against the wall.
"You want to tell her why you're not showing up, you tell her." Hermione had endured enough run-ins at the Ministry to recognize the cool, aristocratic drawl of Blaise Zabini.
"I'm busy." And that was the quippish charmer, Draco.
"You're burning eggs. Just hop through the floo and-"
"I'm busy, Blaise! Or do you not see that?"
"Oh, yeah. I see. You're whipped." Whipped? Hermione wondered what Zabini could possibly mean by that.
"I'm self-sufficient. -I really should have done that earlier."
"Admit it, Draco. The only reason you're trying to cook like some muggle is because you're trying to impress Granger." Aww, Draco was trying to cook eggs? That was incredibly sweet! And a disaster, if the smell had anything to do with it. Still, it was the thought!
"She's sleeping."
"All the more reason to escort Daphne out of our home." Daphne? Who was Daphne? "I'm not going to be in charge of the women in your life. You don't want to see her today? Fine. But I won't do your dirty work."
"Hmph. You just don't want to piss her off so you can get under Astoria's skirt."
"Maybe."
"I'll sort out Daphne later."
Sort out? What was there to sort out? Why was there a woman waiting for them back at his flat?
"You want me to tell her why you're not coming?"
"Only if you want your balls hexed off. -Don't you dare breathe a word about...this. The last thing I need is everyone having a good laugh at my expense." A laugh? What was so funny about -he wasn't ashamed of her, was he? Ashamed of being associated with her? No, surely not. He cared about her, didn't he? But then, why was this 'Daphne' at their house right now, waiting on Draco?
"Little too late for that, don't you think?"
"Just tell the prissy swot I overslept. No need to go into details and run the risk of this getting out to anyone."
A mixture of emotions stirred through Hermione's mind, but one image kept cropping up again and again. Ron, in his office, with some secretary he hadn't even bothered to learn a name from. She remembered her sprawled across his lap in his comfy office chair, and the feeling of betrayal Hermione felt in that moment.
Whomever this Daphne was, she deserved so much better than this. And so did Hermione. Damn it. She'd fallen for the biggest ploy -Draco wasn't after her heart. He was just another snake in the grass looking for his next meal.
Tears welled in Hermione's eyes as she stepped away from the kitchens and tiptoed to the edge of the staircase. "Accio shoes and bag," she whispered, and when she retrieved her items, she found her way to the floo in the library.
"Stupid, Hermione!" She scolded herself, swiping at her tears with her knuckles. "Why would you ever think he'd be any different?"
"So… you thought I was seeing Daphne? Daphne Greengrass? The woman outside this very room who I keep forgetting is here?" Draco couldn't help it. He burst out into laughter. "You- ahaha… you think I was sleeping with Daphne?"
"Stop laughing!" Hermione demanded at once, swatting him on the arm. It sobered him up immediately; his face growing somber. "It isn't what I think, Draco Malfoy. I heard the whole thing! I know!"
"No," he shook his head, smirking. Relieved. Relieved that it had all been some cosmic misunderstanding. He tossed his glowing wand onto the cabinet behind her head and seized her by the arms, pulling her flush against him. She struggled to move, but he kept her there while maintaining that predatory smile. "You really don't, Hermione."
"Let me go!" She shouted. "Stop touching me! You have no right! No right at all!" Her fists came up and slammed against chest, but Draco ignored it. He simply wrapped his arms around her and yanked her into a hug, though it was a bit uncomfortable with her arms between them.
"Hermione," he demanded, startling her still with the power of his voice, "Be quiet and listen."
"Why should I?" she muttered against his shirt.
"Because… you have it all wrong."
Also, six months ago
"Damn it all!" The smell of burnt cooking filled the Manor's kitchen. Draco looked rather silly wearing his mother's cooking apron and two oven mitts while he attempted to scramble eggs on the stovetop in his dress slacks from the previous night. He hadn't bothered to take a shower, afraid that the noise from the bathroom, connected to his bedroom, would make too much noise and awake the sleeping beauty in his bed. He, now, regretted freeing all those house elves a year back at her suggestion when they'd begun to work together. His parents still held that against him to this day, and he was starting to understand why. Cooking for himself… it was entirely overwhelming. Living with Blaise meant take away, left overs, and bachelor food. And, usually, he cooked with magic. Why today, out of all the bloody days, he thought he might try it the muggle way to impress her was beyond him.
He held out his skillet of his third failed attempt to cook eggs and dumped them into the trashcan before scourgefying the pan clean.
A masculine voice caught him off guard as it said, "Oh, how the mighty fall, eh, Draco?"
Draco whipped around, skillet up above his head while he readied a dueling stance with the wand in his other hand. He gave a relieved sigh when he saw that it was only Blaise, the fucking sod. "I knew I forgot something last night."
"Shouldn't leave the floo open," Blaise nodded, smirking as he eyed Draco over. "Apron. Last night's trousers. Tousled hair. Unhappy greeting toward your best friend… is Granger here?"
Draco smirked back. "You know me, Zabini. I don't kiss and tell. -And you're not my best friend." He pointed the skillet at Blaise to add emphasis.
"Says you."
"Yeah. That's sort of the point of best friends… you both have to agree to it."
"Where is she?" Blaise glanced around the kitchen.
"In my room," Draco admitted proudly.
Blaise looked impressed. "So you finally got it in, did you? It's about bloody time." The unwelcomed wizard strolled over to the kitchen counter and plucked up an apple from the fruit bowl in the center. "How was she? Tight, I imagine."
"Unless you plan on shoving it up your arse, I suggest you put down the apple."
"You didn't answer the question."
"Because it isn't any of your business."
"Ah. I see. You didn't seal the deal. Shame. Isn't she due for that promotion?"
"How do you know these things?"
"You sleep around with enough Ministry staff, you tend to know all the best gossip." He pointed to the skillet. "You want help with that?"
"No." Draco sounded like a two-year-old as he walked the skillet back to the stove top, sat it on an unused burner, and began the difficult task of cracking eggs into a bowl. Again. "I have this."
"Stubborn."
"Why are you here?"
"Daphne's at the flat."
"Daphne? Greengrass?"
"Do we know another Daphne?"
"I wish we did." Draco smirked. "What does she want?"
"You don't remember? You were supposed to meet her at eight."
Draco strained to remember. Oh… yeah… she was doing a dissertation on the theories of alchemy mixed with certain potions and wanted to pick Draco's brain about an alchemy tool he'd invented recently -and Hermione had helped patent approve. "What time is it?"
"Ten."
"Shit!" The exclamation worked both for the time as well as the fact that he cracked an egg with a bit too much force and shattered some of the shell into his already soupy bowl of yolks and egg whites. "Tell her I'm busy."
"Uh-uh. Don't throw this on me. I'm not going to be your errand boy. You want to tell her why you're not showing up, you tell her."
"I'm busy."
"You're burning eggs. Just hop through the floo and-"
"I'm busy, Blaise! Or do you not see that?"
Blaise eyed Draco up and down, particularly the flower-embroidered apron with frills on the sides. "Oh, yeah. I see. You're whipped."
"I'm self-sufficient." The blond said, brandishing a metal whisk. He glanced down at the apron, waved his wand, and transfigured it into a simple black smock. "I really should have done that earlier."
"Admit it, Draco. The only reason you're trying to cook like some muggle is because you're trying to impress Granger."
"She's sleeping."
"All the more reason to escort Daphne out of our home. I'm not going to be in charge of the women in your life. You don't want to see her today? Fine. But I won't do your dirty work."
"Hmph." Draco attempted to sort the egg shells out of the yolk with his wand. "You just don't want to piss her off so you can get under Astoria's skirt."
"Maybe."
The men smirked at one another in understanding. Astoria Greengrass, while a bit frigid, was certainly a sight to behold. Unlike her dull, older sister. "I'll sort out Daphne later."
"You want me to tell her why you're not coming?" Blaise challenged, pointing at the bowl of eggs.
"Only if you want your balls hexed off. -Don't you dare breathe a word about…" Draco gestured to the apron, "...this. The last thing I need is everyone having a good laugh at my expense." Once he was sure all the shells were picked out, he walked back over to the skillet, set it over the hot burner, and poured the eggs in.
"Little too late for that, don't you think?"
"Just tell the prissy swot I overslept. No need to go into details and run the risk of this getting out to anyone." He gestured to the incredibly disorganized kitchen.
Blaise, despite Draco's best efforts to shoo him, stayed to watch Draco burn three more batches of eggs before he finally stepped in and, skillfully, prepared a stunning display of scrambled eggs, buttered toast, and bacon -all the muggle way.
"When did you learn how to cook?" Draco sneered, though it was half-hearted. He was rather thankful.
"Not all of us were spoiled rotten, you know. My family might be rich, but that doesn't mean my mother didn't teach me how to be… what was it you called it, mate? Self-sufficient?" He smirked, handing over two prepared plates. "I'll see myself out, then. But, just so you know, Daphne is right angry at you."
"Like I give a shit," Draco rolled his eyes. He removed his apron, glancing at the mess he would have to clean up later, and took the plates gingerly. "Er… thanks."
"Anything to get my best mate's dick wet."
"We are not best mates." He started for the hallway.
"Ah, come on!" Blaise called to him. "I even helped you cook breakfast! What sort of man does that if he isn't your best mate!"
"The used kind!"
Draco trotted up the staircase, careful not to spill the food. Halfway up, he realized he'd forgotten drinks. Oh, well. He could just get them in a minute. His palms grew sweaty as he approached his bedroom door, and he gripped the plates tighter, afraid of dropping them. He nudged the slightly parted door with his hip, pushing it open the rest of the way, and entered. The curtains were pulled back, allowing a steady stream of light to illuminate the once darkened room.
The bed was empty.
Had she already woken up?
He set the plates on the nightstand closest to the door and glanced at the open bathroom door. No one there, either.
His eyebrows furrowed. Where did she go? Surly she didn't… leave? Did she? He searched the side the bed, where her heels had been discarded the night before. They were gone. Her handbag -also gone. He left the bedroom, searching down the hall. Coldness filtered through his bones. All the air was knocked out of Draco's chest as he came to a startling realization.
Hermione Granger had left without a word.
The closet was eerily quiet for a time as Draco waited for Hermione's reaction. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a moment, she sniffled into his shirt, signaling signs of life.
"You… you mean… you weren't ashamed of me?"
"Ashamed of you?" Draco was appalled, prying her out of his arms, reluctantly, to get a look at her. The mascara under her eyes was splotched from where she was crying, and her lipstick had all rubbed off onto his button down. It didn't matter. She was still the prettiest witch at the party in his eyes. "Hermione... The only thing I'm ashamed of us that I can't cook a decent set of scrambled eggs. I would never be ashamed of you." He dared reach up and wipe the mascara with his fingers, making her look less like a raccoon. "And there wasn't anyone else. There was just you. And me."
"Us," she suggested.
Draco smirked. "Us."
She scowled, suspicious. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"
Knock, knock, knock.
"Time's up!" came the protective voice of Harry Potter.
He knew just what he had to do. In a flurry of motions, Draco snatched Hermione's hand, opened the closet door, and yanked the brunette into the bright light. Once his eyes adjusted, he found the person he was looking for, still tugging on his witch's hand as he led her over to the circle and in front of Daphne Greengrass.
"Daphne."
"Yes, Draco?" She looked rather startled he spoke to her.
"Have you and I ever fooled around?"
Hermione blushed scarlet beside him, but Draco didn't care.
Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Us? Fool around? Ha. No."
"And why not?"
"Well you barely remember I exist, do you?"
Draco grinned ear to ear. "Quite right you are."
Next, he dragged Hermione to the center of the circle, where he retrieved the firewhiskey bottle and pointed the tip directly at the object of his desire. "Oops. It seems to have landed on you again. Guess we need another seven minutes." He tossed it to the floor.
"Oy!" Ron, Blaise, and Theo shouted at the same time while the witches in the room giggled. All of them except for Hermione, who could only look bewildered towards her friends as she was led back to the closet and pushed inside.
With the door shut, she finally found her voice again. "What are you doing?"
Draco scanned his eyes over the various amounts of potions and spotted just the one. He scooped it up, waved it in front of her face for half a moment, and then opened the stopper.
"Draco-"
But it was too late -he put three drops on his tongue while continuing to ignore as Potter knock, knock, knocked on the door and said, "Ask me anything, Granger. I'm as open as the books you love so much."
"What about Harry?"
"There's a silencing charm," Draco reminded her, snatching up his wand for half a moment to place three locking charms on the door and tossing it back to the shelf. "And now we won't be disturbed."
Hermione looked to the door with guilt, but then a playfulness spread across her face. "Truth or dare, Malfoy?"
"Truth."
"Have you ever dated, slept with, or courted Daphne Greengrass?"
"No." He was ever so pleased to answer.
"How did you feel when I left?"
"Hurt. Angry. Like I was never going to feel whole again." A coldness crept across his features as he relived his memories. "I drank away the pain. Pretended it didn't hurt, but it felt like a knife was lodged in my chest. And I missed you like I've never missed anyone else. "
More guilt spread across her face. "How do you feel right now?"
"I'm pissed you couldn't have told me the reason you left. I'm angry it took getting you locked in a closet with me to understand. I'm relieved you're speaking to me again. I'm turned on by the way you look in that dress." Shit. He'd made a mistake with this. He hadn't thought this plan through. He tried to hold back his words, but they came anyway. "And I'm beginning to realize-" He clamped his hand over his mouth and muffled his next words.
"What was that?" she asked, attempting to pry his hand off.
Draco shook his head, trying to hold it back, but she lift off his hand just enough, and they came again.
"-I'm in love with you!"
His eyes went wide as they could possibly go -bigger even, and he snapped his hand back over his mouth, heart jammed up like a gear that wouldn't quite fit into socket. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit! Now he'd gone and done it. There was no recovering from that party foul. No matter how much alcohol consumption, no matter how much Veritaserum, there was never an excuse to profess love in a darkened closet after not seeing said love-interest for six bloody months. She would never speak to him again. Any minute, she would tear out of this closet after hexing his bits into oblivion.
"You… you love me?" She furrowed her brows.
Draco shook his head side to side, but his mouth muffled a, 'Yes!' through his hand. Though it came out more of an, "Ess." Shit. He needed to get out of here. He needed to escape this Hellish pit. Why did he think Veritaserum would be a good idea? Stupid Draco. He reached for the handle of the door, forgetting it was locked, but Hermione's hands folded over his and she shook her head.
"You're leaving?"
"I'm embarrassed," he confessed, further adding to his humiliation. Draco cleared his throat as she guided his hands away from the handle and up to her face. "Now I'm confused."
"Ask me how I felt when I left."
"I don't want to," he said, "I'm afraid of what you'll say." Note to self: never try to be romantic by taking Veritaserum ever again.
"Ask me." Her eyes held tender focus as she smiled. "Please."
"How did you feel?"
"I missed you." She kissed his palm as he allowed himself to stroke her cheek. "Despite thinking you were loathsome, there wasn't a day gone by that I didn't think of you. I'm not even entirely sure why I didn't confront you before leaving. I think… I was scared." Her arms draped around his neck, pulling him closer. Draco wasn't going to complain. Being near her made his insides squirm in a good way. "We'd only been seeing each other a short amount of time. And right after Ron… there was a part of me that felt guilty because... you were right. I did notice you around the office." Her nose brushed against his. "It frightened me."
"Because I'm a big, bad ex-Death Eater?" he quipped.
"Because you made me question myself." Her hands slipped up into his hair, massaging his scalp in tender caresses. "I should have asked you about what I overheard. But I was afraid. Afraid of being right. Afraid of being wrong. What if it was nothing? Were we just supposed to progress and develop? So soon after Ron?"
"So leaving me was better?" he sneered quietly.
"No. No, it wasn't." She shook her head. "I regret everything, Draco. I'm so sorry. I should have never left."
A smile inched its way up his face. "No. You shouldn't have."
And then his lips were on hers, soft and firm all at once. This time, she didn't fight it. In fact, she kissed him back with just as much appreciation, fingers grasping his hair as she moaned against his mouth. It was apparent to Draco: she missed this just as much as him. His hand fumbled clumsily down her neck, shaking from a rush of adrenaline. The Malfoy hubris he strutted around with on a regular basis retreated with its tail between its legs, conceding to the nervous schoolboy within him who just wanted to love and be loved back. She didn't need to love him now. Just her rebuilt trust in him was enough to keep him coming back for more.
Draco tried ever so hard to keep his hands to himself, but -who was he kidding? He was locked in a closet with Hermione Granger, and she was kissing him. Kissing him. It was all he needed. Their bodies reacted as if the last six months were mere hours, though they'd felt, in fact, like a century. Before she could stop him, Draco down her shoulders and sides, then around to her sensational backside before giving it a squeeze. She gasped between kisses, and he took his moment, deepening the kiss. The velvety texture of her tongue only made him crave her more, and he found himself bunching up the skirting of her dress until he found her panty-clad ass cheeks. He slipped his fingers under the thin material and gripped her ass possessively.
"Yesss…" She moaned as his fingers dug into her skin like claws. "Please don't stop."
"This?" he teased, repeating the motion, driving his nails deeper. Her fingers were already making quick work of the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them with haste. "Are you trying to get me naked, Miss Granger?"
"I thought it was obvious." she quipped back, a smile breaching her face.
"Then I think it's only fair I help you along as well." He released her ass, reluctantly, and spun her around with a graceful turn of her body. There, he went to work on her dress, making quick work of the interwoven corset backing, anxiously pulling at the ribbons until they were loose against her frame. With a slow tug, he slipped the garment down over her hips, drinking in the sight of her exposed shoulder blades and spine with fervent excitement. Hermione inhaled sharply when the dress pooled at her feet, and then she moaned when Draco captured the skin of her left shoulder with his teeth. He hooked a hand around her stomach, relishing in the creamy texture of her skin while he pulled her back against him. Mine, he thought, sucking and nipping at her shoulder to bruise it. He wanted to lay claim to what he felt in his heart of hearts; Hermione Granger was his witch. It's why he hadn't made any attempts to fool around with anyone after she left. He endured every tease and taunt by Blaise and Theo for not sticking his dick in the numerous girls that threw themselves at him in Hermione's absence, but he simply couldn't bring himself to. Because this is where he belonged. She was his, and he was hers, if she'd have him.
He trailed abusive kisses up and down the length of her neck, purposefully leaving his mark at each stopping point, determined to brand her so no glamour could hide them. With each bite, he earned himself a gasp, a sigh, or a moan from her, depending on the degree of pleasurable pain he inflicted.
Soft hands reached down to his one against her stomach and guided it upwards to her one of her supple breasts. "Touch me," she begged, and he did. He allowed himself a handful of beautiful tit before he began tweaking her nipple between his fingers, playing with the hardening flesh, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Her head fell back, and she tilted her face so he could capture her mouth in another erotic kiss. His free hand traveled down her navel to the skin just above her mons Venus. She encouraged him with a rolls of her hips, and he took great pleasure in slipping his fingers underneath the hem of her panties to the smooth, bare skin leading down to the object of his desire. Her panties were already soaked, and he used her arousal to slick his fingers before running his middle finger over her clitoris. She panted heavily as he rubbed her pebbled nipple with the same pressure as her sensitive button between her legs
"Yes, Draco," she whimpered, "God, like that. I've missed this."
"I've missed this, too," he said, still very much under the influence of the Veritaserum. "I can't wait to taste you again."
"Mmm…" was her reply, followed by a slur of breathless curse words when he sped up his fingers, working in quick succession and making her legs nearly buckle. She leaned against him, fully entranced by his magical touch and giving him the advantage he needed to slip his finger just a bit lower into her wet slit.
"So wet for me," he noted, lubricating his finger with her juices. He traced her entrance with his fingertip before giving her the satisfaction of slipping it in. He sheathed his finger all the way to his knuckle, pumping in and out of her at a leisurely pace. "Who makes you this wet, Hermione?"
"You do, Draco. Mmm… fuck," she all but bucked against him as he slid a second finger into her tight passage, stretching her walls.
"Were there others?" he whispered seductively in her ear while fingering her. "In America? Did you find yourself some tawdry American boy to satisfy you?" She tensed in his arms, and he had his answer. It made him furiously jealous, and his fingers picked up their pace while he continued, "How many others?"
"J-Just one…" she gasped while he twisted her nipple.
"Did he make you feel this good?" Draco knew he was being childish -how could he have expected her to stay chaste simply for him? He hadn't a claim to her -especially when she'd called it quits. Still, the idea of anyone else having their grimy mitts on her made him carelessly, irrationally envious.
"No one else -ah -makes me feel like this."
Draco smirked, sliding his upper hand over to her opposite breast to knead softly. He could feel her hips rocking in time with his fingers as the curled and pressed against the sensitive bundle of spongy flesh inside her. She all but screamed in elation, and his smirk grew wider. "Did he make you come, Hermione?"
"Draco..."
He rubbed his palm against her clit as it rocked against his hand while nibbling on her earlobe. "Tell me," he hissed between his teeth."
"N-No…" Her breath came in pants, now, as heat radiated from her skin. "No, Draco. He didn't. He was just someone to forget you…"
His hand stopped immediately, and she whimpered in protest, biting her lower lip in the blissful agony of being denied release. She was so close to coming. Draco could tell by the tightening around his fingers and the way she writhed under his touch.
"And did you forget me?"
She opened her eyes, then, reaching her hand back to stroke tenderly down his cheek. "No. No, I couldn't."
The atmosphere between them changed, then. All of the jealousy sloughed off his shoulders like he was a snake shedding new skin. All he wanted to do, in that moment, was tell her how much she meant to him. Tell her he never forgot her, even for a moment. He let his fingers back to work, though this time less hurried and more delicate. He dragged the pads of his fingertips across her g-spot in time with her breathing. Every breath in, he pressed deeper. Every breath out, he withdrew his digits. He wanted to make her feel good in ways he never had before. He began to build her up again, torturously gentle this time. Every touch was feather light and every kiss just as delicate. Much to his pleasure, she soaked his digits, clearly aroused by this new approach. Draco had never fingered a woman this way, but he enjoyed the soft mewling sounds she made, as well as how she moaned his name, like it was a prayer on her lips.
"So close," she whispered desperately, "So close… gonna…" And then her pussy clenched tight in waves as a gush of warm juices coated his fingers at the same time that she moaned so loud it nearly wracked his eardrum. He, expertly, continued to pump her as she came, purposefully pressing on the tender bundle of nerves inside her until she was thoroughly spent. Then, and only then, did he remove his fingers from her passage and bring them up to his lips to savor as he closed his eyes. Sweet baby dragons, she tasted divine. He licked at his fingers like a ravenous wolf until there wasn't a trace left of her. When his eyes came back open, he found her staring up at him, a blush on her cheeks.
To his surprise, she asked, in a tone that could only be described as bawdy, "Still the way you remember?"
Draco cocked an eyebrow. "Better." They both laughed, and he turned her around to face him. He traced her jaw with the tip of his index finger, tilting her head up to his. His erection twitched in his pants, reminding him that he hadn't been satisfied, but he ignored it and kissed her lovingly on the lips. She kissed him back, and, together, they stumbled back until she was pressed against the shelves.
She reached for her underwear to slide them down, but he grabbed her wrists. "Say you'll stay."
"I'll stay."
He released her wrists and helped her shimmy out of the wretched undergarments, leaving her starkers. Draco paused, eyes sweeping down her form. It was the first time he'd ever been presented her naked in all her glory. The subtle curve of her breasts, the pert nipples that begged to be tweaked again, the lavish dip in her belly button that led down to those breathtaking birthing hips and slender thighs… Oh, this closet wasn't Hell at all, was it? This was Heaven, made just for him. Their seven minutes were up ages ago, but Draco didn't care. He made the rules here. Time would no longer work out of his favor. He would tame it all to keep her in his arms another moment.
Draco reached for his belt buckle, and Hermione set to work on his buttons again, until she had his shirt completely undone while was able to free his cock from the confines of his slacks. He watched her eye it hungrily before surprising him and curling a leg around his hip. He tucked his hand just under her knee, keeping it in place, while he positioned himself between her legs. No words needed to be spoken. This was something they both knew they wanted -no, needed. He slid the tip of his cock up and down her slit, coating it with her arousal before finding that blissful opening and sheathing himself inside.
She moaned. He gasped. The fingers cradling her leg dug in, and Draco Malfoy knew there was no greater feeling than stuffing Hermione Granger's pussy with his cock. She was so tight he had to press hard to fully fit inside of her, and when he finally did, he leaned forward and kissed her.
They stayed that way, with him buried inside of her, for what felt like eternity. Not moving. Simply savoring the delectable feeling of completion while their tongues wrestled for dominance. Draco was victorious, of course, and finally, when he could take it no longer, he withdrew his cock completely, smirking as she whimpered, before slamming back inside of her.
"God!" Hermione cried out, throwing her head back and arching her spine. Draco found his teeth against her throat as he gave her another good snap of his hips. Hermione began to meet his thrusts with erotic hip rolls, plunging him deeper inside of her. The shelves began to rock behind them, but neither cared, too caught up in the quickening pace of their mutual need to fuck each other into abandon. Over and over again, Draco pistoned his hips, loving the warmth of her cunt as it tightened around his dick. Her tits bounced in the light of his wand, still sitting precariously on the shelf above, though it rolled back and forth each time he drove her back into the shelving.
Her hands found their way to his back, and she raked her nails down his spine, making him hiss in pleasure. "Fuck, yeah," he whispered, thrusts growing reckless and aggressive. Viciously, he snaked a hand behind her neck and tugged at the nape of her curls, exposing her throat to him as she screamed. He knew he should be gentle with her -knew this wasn't a way to show her his love for her, but he was so desperate to pour every emotion into this, so he continued his brutal pounding into her core. With each thrust, she moaned and gasped.
"Yes… Draco… harder… fuck…"
Hmm, maybe rough was the way to go. He kissed her violently before he removed himself from her and demanded, "Bend over."
Hermione didn't seem to mind him barking commands at her. She eagerly moved past him, leaning against the door and stretching her body like a cat, exposing her round ass to him, as well as her swollen pussy. "Mmm… fuck me, Draco. Please."
Draco obliged as he slipped back into her, pressing as deep as he could go. She groaned, backing her ass up against his pelvis, and, together, they rocked a steady rhythm that had her bracing her arms against the door and screaming like a wild woman. His thrust were sharp, quick, and precise, and he could already feel the pull in his lower abdomen that told him he was ever so close to coming.
"Harder!" she moaned, slamming her first against the door. Good thing there was a silencing charm, Draco thought.
He did as he was told, pinching his eyes shut to keep from releasing inside of her.
"Yes! Yes! Oh, God, Yes, Draco… fuck my pussy!"
He snapped his eyes open, surprised at her filthy language. It was so hot. Wait -was he dreaming again? Fuck it, he didn't care if he was. He continued to pound into her, his balls slapping against her clit, building her up.
"Don't stop!" she told him.
"I'm close," he warned her, but she care, because she began rocking her hips back against his.
"Fucking ride me till you come, Draco, please."
Damn it, he really hoped this wasn't a dream. Her dirty talk was the fantasy he'd always hoped for in a woman. He fisted her hair back and began driving into her, smacking her ass, making her scream over and over and over -she clenched around his cock, screaming his name, and it drove him over the edge of sanity, as well as ecstasy. He came right along with her, balls deep within her pulsing core, and filled her with his cum. Releasing himself within her set off all his primal instincts, and he pulled at her hips, trying to wedge himself deeper into her cum filled core. Hermione panted beneath him, her hair still fisted in his hand. Draco leaned forward, releasing her as he came to his senses.
He rested his forehead between her shoulderblades, noting the sweat that glistened on her skin. He licked a salty line up her spine before rubbing his nose against her shoulder and muttering, "Pinch me."
She laughed, reaching her arm back and pinching his side.
"OWW." He hissed and swatted her hand away. "Good. You're real."
"Dream me is really that convincing?" she chided, then groaned when he withdrew himself. Draco reached under her and helped her to stand upright. When she was sure on her feet, he turned her around, settling his hands on her hips.
"Dream you doesn't hold a candle to the real you," he whispered, allowing himself to smile. "How…. um… how are you feeling?" He quickly added, "Have any plans to disappear again?"
She grinned back at him, shaking her head. "No, Draco. I'm right here."
"So am I."
"And I'm back in Britain. For good, this time."
"Does that mean your schedule is open?"
That depends," she replied coyly, "What did you have in mind?"
"Hmm…" He pretended to consider the options. "Drinks? Maybe a night out once a week? Sex every other day? Or every day. I'm willing to move a few things around."
"What about a relationship?" Her eyes glimmered with boldness.
"I suppose I could fit it in." He mockingly rolled his eyes, then shot her a wink. "But only if you're up for it."
"I am." She nodded, confident. Draco could have fist pumped the air, but she would witness it, so he settled on his signature smirk instead.
"Bout time you two showed up," Blaise smirked when Draco and Hermione emerged from the closet. The candles in the room were barely alive, burned down nearly to the base. The entire room was empty, aside from Luna, who slept curled up on Blaise's lap on a nearby chaise lounge, and Pansy, who lay next to a passed out Theo sprawled in the middle of the floor, a bottle of brandy still clutched between his fingertips.
Hermione brushed down the skirting of her dress, cheeks dusted with pink, and asked shyly, "Harry and Ron?"
"Weasley and Patil went to join the party once they realized they weren't getting a turn in that closet. Potter… well… Potter made a new friend this evening."
Draco slipped a possessive arm around Hermione's waist and asked, "Who?" He did the math in his head, and his eyes went wide. "No."
"Oh, yes. -Turns out someone finally noticed dear old Daphne."
"What time is it?" Hermione asked, yawning.
"Dunno. Party's still going on, if you two want to join in the fun." Blaise smirked.
Draco glanced down at the firewhiskey bottle on the floor and turned to Hermione. "Do you have to go home?"
She smiled. "Not tonight. Meet you in your room in… say… ten?" She leaned up, kissed him on the cheek, and strolled to the door.
"You remember which one it is, yes?" Draco smirked.
She simply rolled her eyes, though her smile remained as she left the room and shut the door behind her. Draco stared at the door, her image still the only thing he saw.
"Does this mean you two are finally back together?" asked a yawning Blaise.
Draco retrieved the bottle and pointed it at Blaise. "This was your doing, wasn't it?"
His friend gave a mock gasp. "Why Draco, what ever do you mean?"
"You planned this. This party, inviting Granger, this… game." He tossed the bottle to the floor, and Theo startled in his sleep, making a noise somewhere between a gasp and a snore. His head shot up for half a moment before falling back against the floor, lost in sleep again.
"To be fair, I can't take all the credit," his Slytherin friend gestured to the pair on the floor.
"I don't know whether to be pissed off or to thank you."
"Just a confession that I am, in fact, your best mate will suffice."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine, Blaise. You're my best mate. Happy?"
"Much." Blaise shooed him with his hand. "Now go on! Go get your cock wet! It's a party, after all."
That night, Draco was delighted to find Hermione curled up in his bed, sleeping. She had already begun to drool on her pillow, just alittle, when he climbed into bed next to her and pulled her against his chest. For the first time in a long time, Draco Malfoy slept a dreamless sleep next to his favorite witch.
The morning sun beat against Draco's face like a violent punch to his psyche, rendering him awake and horrified as his eyes came open. He sat up in his empty bed, glancing this way and that. No Hermione.
"No." He jumped out of bed at once, running his fingers through his hair. "No, it couldn't have…" He didn't want it to be a dream. It couldn't have been. He stumbled to the bathroom and glanced at his reflection in the vanity mirror. His lips were puffy, his hair was extremely disheveled, and his chest was riddled with scratches. He sighed. It hadn't been a dream, after all. It was real, all of it.
But then it dawned on him -if it was real, then where was she?
She promised she wouldn't leave again. Draco didn't know what he'd do if she did. Didn't know if his heart could take another devastating blow like that. He attempted to calm himself as he shook out his arms and quickly slipped on a shirt. As he pulled open the bedroom door to search for her, his nostrils were filled with the scent of home-cooked breakfast; of sausage and potatoes and eggs. He took the stairs two at a time, leaping over the last three like when he was a boy setting off for his first day at Hogwarts. When he arrived at the kitchens, he was met with nine pairs of eyes, all seated around the kitchen island, plates of food in front of them. Hermione wore a cooking smock over one of Draco's t-shirts and a pair of his lounge pants, and held out a fresh skillet of scrambled eggs, toppling them onto a plate.
"There you are," she smiled. "I was just about to go wake you."
Quickly, Draco crossed the space between them and kissed her out in the open in front of everyone. Hermione held the skillet out beside her to keep them from getting burned, but she smiled happily into the kiss, despite Weasley's groan of protest and Potter's muttering of 'get a room,' to which Daphne elbowed him in the side.
Draco looked around to the group from last night's 'after party' and narrowed his eyes.
"What are you lot still doing in my home?" he snipped.
"Well, Draco, darling, we all thought we might pitch in and help clean up," Pansy said, pointing her fork at him. "But with that attitude, I'd say you're on your own."
He retracted his statement quickly. "Oh. Erm. That's… that's nice of you. Thanks."
"More like she forced us," Weasley muttered.
Padma rolled her eyes. "You vomited in the loo sink, Ron. It's the least you can do."
"You what?" Draco snapped.
"Ah, come on, mate. That's how you know you threw a good party," offered Theo.
"In any case, we're here." Hermione patted Draco on the arm, stirring him from his anger. "All of us."
"You're welcome," Blaise chuckled as the blond was forced into a kitchen stool beside his 'best mate'. Hermione slid a plate of food in front of him, kissed him on the cheek, and said, "And we're not going anywhere. Tough it out. Need me to pinch you again?"
"I'm good." Draco smirked happily down at his plate, thinking of how time, though torturous, was all relative. Those six months felt like distant memories now. Each day without Hermione Granger had been a dull, slow orbit around the sun. Today, with her by his side, he never wanted the day to end.
And thank Merlin, she could cook.
I hope everyone enjoyed this story as much as I did! Again, if you missed it, this is a stand-alone sequel to: A Touch of Bourbon. Find it on my author's page! Please feel free to leave a review! It would mean the world to me. XD Also, favorites are welcome as well.
~A.
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The Closet Relativity Theory