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Drinking Buddies	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 25654 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the world of Harry Potter. I am not making profit off of this story. I am writing it for fun only.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Thank you to everyone who reviewed/have read this far! The following chapter is a series of short stories, basically covering Draco and Hermione's developing relationship. The next chapter gets intense, and it will be the final chapter, so be prepared to love/hate me. And enjoy the fluff(ish) stuff while you can. Althought, my fluff is hardly fluff. ALSO, big lemon in this chapter.

Enjoy!

Shorts.

Parental Prudence

Today was not Draco Malfoy’s day. As he sat across from Hermione’s parents in the E.R. of the muggle hospital, he couldn’t help but feel useless as they waited for news from the doctor. Hermione had been in surgery for an hour now. Surly it shouldn’t take this long, should it? It was just one appendix. He could feel Mr. Granger’s hard stare fixed on Draco’s platinum blonde hair. I looked as if he were about to ask if it were really his hair color, and Draco smirked to himself. It was a question that was frequently asked, and he was always so eager to tell them just how real it was.

But instead of asking about his hair, Mr. Granger patted his wife’s knee in support and said, “So… You’re the Malfoy fellow we’ve heard so much about.”

Draco nodded, awkwardly fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve. He was still dressed in his dinner clothes; he had taken Hermione to some Italian restaurant she had wanted to try for some time now, and he had been tired of hearing about it. Now, as he waited for news that she would be okay, he felt terrible about giving her such a shite time about it. It wasn’t as if she asked for much from him, even when he tried to give her the world.

“Thank you for calling us,” Mrs. Granger smiled warmly, “I’m honestly surprised we haven’t gotten to know each other before now. Hermione talks very highly of you.”

A smile quirked its way across Draco’s lips as he said, “It was a bloody pain in the arse trying to figure out that muggle contraption.” Mr. Malfoy’s eyes squared off, probably perturbed from Draco’s language, but he really didn’t care. He wasn’t about to stop being himself. Especially not for a muggle who didn’t seem at all pleased by his presence.

“You did the right thing, calling the emergency.” Mrs. Granger leaned forward and cupped her hands together. “I’m impressed you’ve caught on so quickly to our customs.”

“Oh, honestly, Jean. It isn’t that hard to press a buttons on a keypad.” Mr. Granger said gruffly.

“But Draco wasn’t raised like Hermione, dear.”

“Oh, I’m quite aware.” He turned his eyes anywhere in the waiting area but on Draco. “I also remember the tear stained letters she used to send us…”

There was a pull in Draco’s middle, as if a suction spell were swallowing him up from the inside out. It was the same feeling he had gotten the night he had been forced to go to Potter’s stupid birthday party. He was good with confrontation when he was the one instigating it –when the tables were turned, however, he often felt like he would like to dig a hole and bury himself it in it. Which is exactly what he really had done, hadn’t it? His past never seemed to escape him.

Jean noticed Draco’s half-hearted look and said, “I think… to overcome prejudice, especially when you’ve been surrounded by it your entire life… I think that takes stout.”

“Humph. Stout. Is that what you called it when he terrorized our little girl all through school?”

Draco attempted to hold his tongue. He could do it, he really could. Hermione would want him to. But then-

“Obviously Hermione’s ashamed of him. Why else would we not have met him before now?”

It was the wrench in the cogs. He wasn’t insecure… he wasn’t… or at least, that’s what he always told himself. But so much had been done in the years leading up to the War. Too much had been said, too much blood had been spilled by his family. Every time he had ever tried to run from it, it came back to slap him like an ugly hand to the face. And he wasn’t in the best condition right now, with the woman he loved in the hands of surgeons –non magic surgeons that could easily screw up with just the slip of a hand. Maybe that’s why he said it. Maybe that’s what broke him.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe she was ashamed of you?” His tony was icy, calculating, just the way his father used to do when he’d tear him down. “That maybe she knew you’d be this way, and wanted to avoid all of it?”

Mr. Granger harrumphed and the eyes that looked so much like Hermione’s shot daggers at him. “I’m not the one with the backwards upbringing.”

It was a muted attempt to get to Draco, who had already felt satisfied at the pure anger on Mr. Granger’s face. His heart thumped in his throat, however, when he thought about what Hermione’s face would have been like if she could see it. He was going to get chewed out for this later, of that he had no doubt.

A cracking pop resounded in the hallway next to the waiting room, and suddenly they could hear the muffled arguing. While Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked quite shocked at the sound, Draco recognized it immediately and rose from his seat, taking to the hallway to see Ron Weasley and his younger sister standing in the middle of the hall. Ginny had her hands on her hips, scolding her older brother.

“I told you this was a bad idea! We should have come through the front door.”

“No one saw us,” Ron was saying, stowing away his wand quickly, “And we didn’t know what floor she was on.”

“We might not have seen you, but everyone on this floor heard you.” Draco chimed in, crossing his arms.

Ginny turned on her heels and made a quick pace across the hall towards him. “How is she?”

“Still in surgery.”

“We came as soon as we could. Harry would be here, but he’s on assignment in Germany.” She noticed his concerned face and added, “I wouldn’t be too worried, Malfoy. Appendix surgery is very common.”

He nodded, but that didn’t fix his mood. Between worrying about Hermione and Mr. Granger’s distasteful attitude, he could hardly find the silver lining in everything. Ron joined their sides, rubbing his arms up and down. “Cold in here.” He said.

“It’s an infirmary, Weasley, not a day spa.” Draco chided, and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. “Hermione’s parents are quite a delightful package, aren’t they?”

Ginny was quick to catch on to his sarcasm. “They’ve always been nice to us. –Wait. Is this your first time meeting them?” He looked away from her quickly, attempting to hide his embarrassment. “Oh! Oh. Oh.” She looked over to Ron, and then back to Draco. “You haven’t met them before now. That’s… well… how long have you two been dating, again?”

“Too bloody long,” Ron grumbled hopelessly. His sister gave him a look, and he added, “Erhm, I mean. What… year and a half?”

“Year and eight months.” Draco crossed his arms. “On Tuesday.”

The red headed girl gave a quick grin and said, “Never took you for the anniversary sort. That’s adorable.”

“Shove it.”

“I’m sure she’s had a reasonable explanation for you not meeting them sooner.” She patted his arm lightly, even as he tried to shrug her off. She didn’t relent, just continued to pat. “Ron, why don’t we go in and break the ice?”

“Sure.” Ron nodded, meeting Draco’s eyes. “That will be easy. They love me.”

Draco went to reach for his wand, but Ginny smacked her brother on the back of his head and satisfied Draco’s need for bloodlust. He followed the Weasley siblings into the waiting room, where they found Jean pushing buttons on her muggle phone while Mr. Granger was in the corner, attempting to brew some tea from the community snack area. Draco tried to recall his name. Hermione had said it so many times… was it Walter? Wallace? Something with a W, he was sure…

Jean saw the flash of red hair and her eyes darted up. “Ginny! Oh, so good to see you! And Ronald!”

Mr. Granger turned his head and smiled. “Ron! So good to see you!”

Draco grumbled, feeling very out of place. He watched Ron shake Hermione’s father’s hand and receive a pat on the back in return. “Hello, Harold.”

Harold. No W at all in that name… Shite. Draco scolded himself. He really should keep up with these sort of things…

“How’s the family?” Harold beamed from ear to ear as he put an arm around Weasley’s shoulders. Draco slumped in the chair opposite of everyone and stared dully at the floor. He tried not to notice how content Harold was. How easily he accepted Ron Weasley as one of his own. Maybe, he thought with a frustrated huff, if Hermione had introduced him sooner to her family, they wouldn’t be so distant. But it wasn’t as if Draco didn’t already know what a distant family was like. He had been sure, after the war, that his Father would be sent to prison for all of his wrong doings. But instead he paid off every witch or wizard he could, and still kept his distasteful anger at the muggle born community, as if the world had never been ripped apart because of prejudices. Draco had already veered away from his father, even before the war, but to say it out loud would have been to disgrace his father’s honor. Now he wished he had stood up sooner. Made a stand. Perhaps, then, he wouldn’t be so despised.

“They’re doing great. Mum still wants to have you over for her beet soup sometime. Don’t do it. It’s disgusting.”

Ginny flopped in a seat next to Draco and stared vacantly. He wondered what she was thinking of, sitting next to him, when she said, “How’s work?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”

“Small talk passes the time.”

“Its fine.”

“Harry said he saw you put in an application for Auror training.”

Draco’s entire body went ridged. “Did he?”

“We both think it’s brilliant.” She whispered. “I’m guessing you didn’t tell Hermione.”

He shook his head. “And I plan to keep it that way.”

“Why?” Ginny whined.

“Because.”

“Because isn’t a reason. –Are you afraid you’ll get rejected? I don’t know how your O.W.L.S. testing went, but I never took you for a slacker.”

“Just leave it, Weasley.”

He didn’t want to tell her the real reason; that he was frightened of the reason why he would be rejected. Ever since his run in with Gwen, he second guessed everything that was told to him. His work suffered. He didn’t sleep right. All he could think about was the fact that he had been turned down not because his blood was so proper, but because his family was so tainted. He pretended everything was alright for Granger. But everything a Malfoy touched nowadays smelled like rotten eggs to most people. Only those in need of funds seemed to care, and that was hardly anything of substance. If his application was rejected for training, he would know exactly why. Because no one wanted their hands mushed around in all the blood the Malfoys had spilled.

A nurse entered the room, snapping him out of his sullen mood. He stood, ready to go. The nurse smiled to everyone and said, “Miss Granger is out of surgery. We were able to remove the appendix with no issues. She’s in recovery right now. Family may go in, but everyone else will have to wait outside until we are able to set her up a room to herself.”

Draco’s heart raced, and a wave of relief washed over him. She was alright. She was going to be okay. “Bloody Hell…” He whispered, expelling a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Ginny patted his hand, earning a heated glare from him.

“We’ll go on ahead, then,” Said Jean, smiling at Ron, then Ginny, and finally resting her gaze on Draco, “And we’ll come get you as soon as you’re allowed in.” Draco sat back down in his chair, sullen.

It set a bad taste in his mouth, watching Granger’s parents leave the waiting room while he had to wait like a commoner outside. He was the one in her bed nearly every night. He was the one who listened to her ramble on about spells and books and terrible T.V. shows. He was the one kissing her, shagging her, practically living with her (he still had his apartment, sure, but he only was there when they’d had a fight or she worked late). He should be in there before any of the rest.

“I don’t like it.” He growled.

“What?” Ron asked, picking up a cup of tea that Mr. Granger had abandoned.

“Sitting here. I don’t like it.”

“Well, Malfoy. What else do you want?”

“I want to be in there. With her.” His voice wasn’t desperate. It was agitated. It was appalled.

“You heard them. Family only.”

“I am family,” He said. Ginny gave a tiny squeak and punched him hard in the arm. Draco furrowed his eyebrows and glared at her. “What was that for?”

“You practically said you want to marry her.”

Ron spat out his tea across the tiled floor at the same time that Draco’s face blanched. “Godric’s saggy left testicle, Ginny! Don’t you think you made a bit of leap there?”

“You do, don’t you?” She smirked.

Draco glared and pulled his knees up to his chin, resembling a five year old in his chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s why you’re trying out to be an Auror-”

“I told you to drop that, Weasley-”

“You’re doing what? What?” Ron’s mouth gaped.

“Oh great.” Draco jutted his hand out. “Just tell every git we know, why don’t you?”

Ron set his cup down on the counter next to him and his face became very serious. “Since when does the awe inspiring Draco Malfoy want to be an Auror? You do know that requires helping people, right?”

“Oh? Truly? I thought it was about hexing brooding, red apes such as yourself.” Draco smirked. “Quite frankly, I think that’s doing the community a service.”

“Stop it, you two.” Ginny scolded. “Ron, you aren’t to tell Hermione.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.” She snipped. “And because it’s not your secret to tell. Draco will tell her when he’s ready.”

“Don’t call me Draco.” Draco gave an impatient huff. “That’s reserved for Hermione only. The rest of you lot can call me Malfoy or Handsome Beyond All Doubt. Your choice.”

“How about Insufferable Git?” Ron sneered. Draco stuck out his tongue childishly. Ron flipped him the bird.

“You two are hopeless, you know that?” Ginny threw her hands up in the air. “You’re practically friends. Why can’t you just act like it?”

“Because that’s not how this friendship works, Weasleyette,” Draco smirked.

“Yeah,” Ron nodded, “It’s a man thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s just a you two thing…”

The three of them sat in the waiting room after that, Ginny and Ron making small talk, allowing Draco to be alone with his thoughts.

What Ginny had said back there… it wasn’t completely un-true. The night they watched Potter propose to the red-head did not stick out in Draco’s head only because it was the night his mother died. It was also the first night he had ever considered such a thing as marriage again. When he saw the happiness on their faces, of the joy they both experienced at something so profound as love, it did two things to Draco that night. First, it made him sick, because he thought of that ring he had tossed away after Gwen had left him. How terrible, frightened, and disgusted he had felt that she had left without so much as a word. But the second emotion, the one he felt when he set his eyes on Granger that night… That was the feeling he hadn’t been able to shake ever since. It was like every bit of his disheveled life suddenly clicked together when he had looked at her. As if those brown eyes could magically glue his heart back together. And maybe they had. All it ever took since that night in the office was a look to make him question everything he had ever known.

When he paired that with the aggravated emotion he felt at being told he could not go to Hermione’s side immediately after her surgery… well, it just wasn’t something he had anticipated. And it made his nerves edgy. He wanted nothing more than to go in there and bury his face in her neck and tell her obscene, filthy things he would do to her once she got better. But he couldn’t. Because, to the rest of the world, he wasn’t her family. But to him, after losing his mother, she was practically all the family he had.

That, and the stupid Weasleys that he was forced to adopt via Hermione’s undying love for them. And Potter… Fucking Potter. Might as well include him in that lot too. Hermione was a package deal. He’d accepted that long ago.

Harold appeared in the doorway a short while later, letting everyone know it was alright to come to Hermione’s new room. They followed him down the hallway, through a pair of double doors, and found her room to be the first door on the right. The lighting was dim, but Draco was relieved to see Hermione, propped up with pillows, stuck with a muggle IV, sleeping peacefully. Her cheeks were very sallow, but she still couldn’t have looked more beautiful to him. Harold took the spot to Hermione’s right, and Jean was already sitting on a chair to her left, so Draco found the corner of the room furthest from the door and made himself comfortable on one of the extra chairs provided. Ginny stood at the foot of the bed, rubbing Hermione’s toes with a smile. Ron stood closest to the door, reading the scribbles on the white board with Hermione’s name on it.

“They say she’ll stay here tonight, and she’ll be sent home tomorrow,” Jean smiled.

“That’s wonderful,” Ginny replied. Draco sat in silence, afraid to move at the wrath of Harold Granger. There was a stir a few moments later, and Hermione’s eyelashes batted open groggily. She looked about the room, drugged up on painkillers, smiling at her mother and then her father.

“Mum,” She said, “Where’s Draco?”

Harold looked a bit taken aback, but Jean simply rubbed her daughter’s cheek and said, “He’s right here, sweetheart. Draco, won’t you come over?”

Pink tinged his cheek as he rose from his chair. He set his head high, jutted his chin out, and pushed his way between Harold and Hermione, scooping up her hand to give it a light kiss. “Hey, Granger.”

“Draco…” Her grin was bigger. “Sorry… about dinner…”

“Heh.” He chuckled. “I never did care much for Italian anyways. You saved me the trouble of having to pretend like I enjoyed it.”

She patted his cheek. “I’m okay.”

“I know.”

“You must have been… worried…” She yawned, the drugs kicking her thoughts back. She struggled to focus her eyes on him, but he didn’t care. He was just so very glad she was alright.

“Me? Worried?” He scoffed. “Hardly. They keep telling me you’re in capable muggle hands. After so much insistence, I have to start to believe it.”

“Love you.” She whispered, pulling his hand up to her face. He knew that everyone was watching, knew that he hated the attention, but pushed it down and rubbed her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Love you too, witch.”

“Am I the only one seeing stars?”

“Those drugs must be kicking in pretty hard,” Said Harold.

“Oh, Daddy.” Hermione glanced behind Draco. “I didn’t know you were here too…”

Draco smirked inwardly. It felt good to know who first priority on her mind was after a traumatic ordeal. And it wasn’t Weasley, or Weaselyette, Or Potter, or even her dear old dad. It was him. And that was glorious. He didn’t need Daddy’s approval to be validated. Hearing her ask for him first, well… he could count that a win today.

“Get some rest, Granger.” He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. “We’re all here for you.”

Bachelor Party

“Malfoy, I need some money.”

Draco raised his head up from the table at the Ministry cafeteria and met eyes with Ronald Weasley. He hadn’t seen Weasley in quite some time –not here at the Ministry at least. Not after he had quit his job to join his older sibling at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. It was easier, Hermione had told him, to separate himself that would remind him anything of Lavender. She hadn’t taken the breakup well, and the hateful glares were getting to be a bit much. So Weasley had resigned from his job, to Draco’s amusement and relief. He didn’t know how much more screaming arguments he could take to see, even if they were directed at the red-headed toe rag. He tilted his head to the side, smirking. “Weasley. What a terrible surprise. I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

“Oh, bollox the formalities,” Ron grumbled, putting his face in his hands as he sat down across from Draco, “I completely forgot that as Harry’s best man, I’m supposed to host the bachelor party.”

“And… that involves me… how?” Draco yawned, sipping his hot chocolate.

“You have money.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“And Harry’s your friend too.”

“Hardly.”

“Help out with the financials?” Ron asked.

“Why on Earth would I do that?”

Ron pulled out a scroll from his robes and sat it in the middle of the table. “I’m dating the new owner of Honeydukes. You do this for me, you’ve got a free year’s pass. Anything you want from there. Anytime. One year.”

Draco stared down at the parchment, mouth slightly agape, and then licked his lips. “Even the little toffees that explode in your mouth?”

“Especially those.”

“Weasley, you drive a hard bargain,” He snatched up the scroll, “What do you need?”

Babysitting

Draco Malfoy did not sign up for this. He most certainly did not. Was Merlin himself punishing him for all of the terrible things he contributed in the war?

He watched a pea fly over the table, soaring like a bird in flight, before it him square in the nose.

“Teddy!” Hermione gasped, setting down her fork and giving Teddy Lupin a very perturbed glare. Teddy laughed, his hair turning a brilliant shade of teal. She looked over to Draco with an apologetic smile, to which he immediately dismissed with a wave of his hand. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself anywhere else. Azkaban, for example. Yes, that sounded wonderful right about now.

Another pea smacked him in the eye.

Draco raised an eyebrow as the offending vegetable fell down and into his food. Without a word he pulled out his wand, the six year old watching him all the while. Hermione was about to say something, but Draco set a calmness as he levitated the six different peas that Teddy had thrown at him already. They floated in the air, swirling in an intricate design before he flicked his wrist and sent the entire arsenal straight into Teddy’s face.

“Draco!” Hermione scolded, until she saw Teddy laughing hysterically in his chair. Draco cracked a smile and went back to eating as if nothing had ever happened.

Maybe, just maybe, Azkaban would have to wait.

Conflict

“You what?” Hermione whispered, resisting the urge to turn tail and run immediately. She stared at Draco, his face like a deflated balloon. His smile faded, and it was replaced with a crossed expression.

“I passed my Auror training,” He said again, folding his arms over his chest, “Aren’t you happy for me?”

“When… when did you apply for an Auror position?”

“Does it matter?” It was very clear this was not the reaction he had expected. His steel blue eyes searched her own, as if trying to coax out an appropriate response. When they didn’t get what they were looking for, he puffed out his chest and added, “Weasleyette thought it was brilliant.”

“Ginny? Ginny knew about this?” Hermione covered her mouth with her hands and turned from him. It was so hard not to cry as the fear set into her chest. Tears pushed at the corners of her eyes as Draco stalked around her so that he was in her eye line. It was a mistake, because Hermione shot her head up and shouted, “Why would you want to be an Auror, Draco?”

“I think the question you should ask me is why wouldn’t I want to be. Think about it. It’s not pushing papers around all day like a buffoon. Better pay. Better health insurance policies…”

Hermione couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Because your life is put on the line every day! That’s why the insurance is so great!”

“So? I put my life on the line a lot more during our time at Hogwarts!” His voice rose, his composure wavering. “I could be something, Hermione. Do something besides be a paperweight at the Ministry. I could fix things!”

“Fix what?” Hermione found herself shouting too. “What is there to fix if you’re in a pine box being shipped to the Malfoy Manor!?”

“We’re not having this conversation.”

He made to leave, but she grabbed his arm and held him in place. “No. We are. Why would you want this?”

“Potter’s an Auror. Did you give him this riveting pep talk too?”

“Harry is different.” Hermione chewed her bottom lip. Draco shook his head, not buying it.

“How is Potter any different? Because he was on the light side of the war? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“No!” She gasped, instantly regretting her mistaken connotation. “Absolutely not! That’s not what I meant!”

“Then what is it, Granger? Why the bloody Hell can Potter be an Auror but I’m left to shovel paperwork the rest of my life?”

“Because I’m not in love with Harry!” Hermione shoved his chest, tears winning their own war with their eyes as they spilled forth. “Because I expect you to live out a very long, happy life being an irritating pain in my ass!” She collapsed into his chest and sobbed. Her voice quieted. “You’re supposed to come home at the end of the day, make some snide comment about my hair and then fall asleep next to me. You’re not supposed to… to put it all on the line for some… brazen attempt to make up for your past.”

“Is that what you think?” His voice was softer. “You think that this is about my past?”

“Isn’t it?”

He put a finger under her chin and guided her face up to meet his. “I thought you were supposed to be intelligent.” He kissed away a tear on her cheek. “I’m not doing this out of some meaningless attempt to make up for everything I’ve ever done. This is about my future. Our future.”

“How is putting your life at risk every day beneficial to our future?”

“Because I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try to make something of my life.” He watched her face at it studied his, trying to pop a hole in his words but coming up short. “I absolutely cannot come to your house every night anymore and be satisfied that this is the way my life is going to be for the rest of it.” His next words were scolding. “Don’t make me be less than my potential for your own comforts. I need to make something of myself if I want to be able to look you in the eye anymore…” His eyes peeled away from hers, then, defeated.

Hermione’s heart, which had been beating harshly in her chest, began to slow as she processed what he had said. “Oh… Oh, Draco.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed just under his chin. “I love you. Your career means nothing to me.”

“But it means something to me.” He focused on something on the floor, determination sketched in the lines of his skin. “As a Malfoy, I haven’t done much good for this world. But I could. I could fix the name. Granger, I have to do this.”

She felt the conviction in his tone. There was no changing his mind, even if she begged or cried or yelled. Thinking back to Ginny and Harry, she couldn’t remember a time when Ginny had ever given Harry a hard time about becoming an Auror. And here she was, a puddle of tears on the floor at Draco’s expense. She wiped a rather large cluster of tears away from her cheek and jutted out her chin.

“Alright.”

He glanced down at her. “Alright?”

“Yes. Alright.” She nodded. “Become an Auror. I can’t stand in the way of that sort of resolve. But – but you aren’t to die, do you hear me?” She ran a hand up his cheek. “You’re to come back to me. Every time.”

Draco smirked. “Wouldn’t dare attempt it. You’d probably string my corpse up on a flagpole and hex it to do a jig in the wind if I died.”

“That’s… that’s gruesome, Draco. But very, very accurate.”

Anniversary

“You’re having a laugh.”

Draco stared at the mountain upon mountain of untitled artifacts in the Ministry’s basement floor. Some were spread out across tables, others simply piled on top of one another. Potter flicked his wand and whispered, “Lumos Maxima.” The room illuminated, revealing an even larger room than Draco had previously imagined. He gave out a low grumble.

“Sorting duties. This is hardly the work of an Auror…”

“Don’t knock it just yet.” Said Harry, his eyes worn from working overtime. “Confiscating vaults is part of an Auror’s duty. What did you think happened to any dark artifacts we found yesterday, Malfoy?”

“I dunno,” Draco rolled his eyes, “I suppose I thought there was a separate department for this sort of thing.”

“We’re some of the only qualified wizards and witches in the Ministry to handle these kind of things if something goes wrong. That’s what being an Auror is all about. Not just the glory, but the paperwork as well. Once we’ve assessed if the artifacts we’ve found are dangerous or not, we can catalogue them and ship them off to the appropriate floors.”

“All of these came from the Knott vault? This must have been generations of dark artifact collecting…”

“Most likely.” Harry loosened the clasp of his robes and pulled them off. There, in just his t-shirt and jeans, he roamed his wand over a chalice the size of a teacup and shook his head. “This one isn’t cursed. You’ll feel a-”

“A tug, yeah, Potter, I’m very much aware.” Draco followed suit, removing his work robes. Potter gave his button up and slacks a once over and raised a curious eyebrow, to which Draco replied, “What?”

“Nothing. It’s… well… you’re a bit dressed up for work, don’t you think?”

“One can never be too dressed up. Besides, I have plans later.”

“Plans?”

“Yes, plans. Some of which have to do with shagging your brilliant best friend. Bugger off.”

He began to sift through the pile on the floor, levitating one object at a time, careful to not touch them himself. After a while, he conjured up a few boxes to put the non-magical items in, while levitating the cursed objects up over their heads and the spelled objects on the scattered tables. The worst part of the ordeal was separating out the coins one by one. It was all so tedious that an hour in Draco found the need to chat to pass the time, even if it was with Potter.

“Weasley tell you I’m funding your bachelor party?”

Harry stopped what he was doing, wand still pointed in the air. “What? You are?”

“Yup.”

“Why on Earth would you do that? No offence, Malfoy, but I doubt I’m your favorite person on Earth.”

“Potter,” Draco fake gasped, mocking him, “Are you saying our newly discovered friendship means nothing?”

“He paid you didn’t he…”

“A year’s supply of Honeydukes.”

Harry laughed. “Sounds about right.” He levitated a ring and swirled it in front of his glasses. “So, gonna tell me what the plans are for next week then?”

“Not a chance.”

Draco had just spelled a rather nasty looking raven’s claw above their heads when he spotted something gold glistening from the inside of an overturned jewelry box. He waved his wand over it, and when he established it was safe he plucked it off of the floor with his hands and turned it over his palm. It was small, circular, and in the middle sat an hourglass with glistening white sand. Harry noticed his fascination and gasped when he saw what was in it. “Is that a Time Turner?”

“A what?” Replied Draco.

“A time turner. I thought they were all destroyed…” Harry strolled over and leaned in for a closer look. “Hermione would be fascinated by that.”

“Why would she?”

“She used to use one back at Hogwarts. For her studies. We used it to… well, we saved a few lives with one of those.” He reached to pluck it from Draco’s grasp, but Draco pulled back and smirked.

“Think the Ministry would notice one less Time Turner?”

Harry reached over and snatched it up. “Considering it would be the last one… Every single item is to be turned in to the Ministry. You know that.”

“Shame,” Draco said, eyeing the necklace. He watched Potter scoop up the jewelry box and set the time turner gently inside and then pack it up on the table with the other magical objects.

“I’m starving. Want to grab lunch?”

“What time is it?” Draco waved his wand and popped out a pocket watch from his pockets. “Can’t. Taking a half day.”

“What?- No.- What for?”

He looked up and smirked. "Reasons. Already cleared it. Have fun sorting all this out, Potter.” He waved his hand and gleefully picked up his work robes.

Hermione buried her face into her hands. “This is just too much paperwork.” She sat in her new office, overwhelmed. It was nice, being promoted to head of the Department of Magical Creatures Division, but all of the by-laws were soon swarming into her brain like a mushy soup. Perhaps she was coming down with a cold?

She heard a knock on her door and with a flick of her wand opened it. To her surprise, Draco stood there, fist still in the air to deliver another knock. He perched a surprised eyebrow, brought his hand down, and smirked. “Hello, Granger.”

“Draco?” She shuffled a few papers together and sneezed. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Oh, come now.” He grinned, taking careful stride into her office and shutting the door behind him. “Did you think I’d forgotten?”

Hermione smiled, her cheeks tinted pink. “To be honest…”

“I’m hurt.” He feigned a pained expression. “Really. That’s no way to treat our two years. Perhaps I’ll just forget your surprise.”

She perked up. “Surprise?”

“No. Not now. Now you’ve gone and hurt my feelings.” His grin was like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He rounded her desk and placed a hand on each shoulder, then leaned over to whisper, “It was a good one, too.”

Trying to suppress a smile, she replied, “Well, maybe I’ll get off work a little early if you tell me what it is.”

Lips touched her neck. “Funny. Your surprise has quite a bit with getting you off myself.” He left a string of delicate kisses along the pulse in her vein, and Hermione leaned back into the sensation.

“Draco,” She tried, “I’m working…”

“I see that. Such an avid workaholic.” His fingers dug into her shoulders, not too tight to hurt her, but just enough pressure to send a heatwave over her entire body. “Let me relieve some tension for you.”

She shrugged him off her shoulders and swiveled around in her chair. “I’m. Working.”

He scowled, playful. “Alright, Hermione. Have it your way.” He winked, gave a smirk, and started towards the door. When he got to it, however, he halted and added, “Oh, you know, I think I’ll have a bit of fun before I leave. Call it… an anniversary gift to myself.” With a flick of his wand, he locked the door. Hermione quirked up an eyebrow, but said nothing. That is, until Draco began to undo the top of his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Hmm?” He asked, unclasping the fourth button. “I’m unbuttoning a shirt. Honestly, Granger, what does it look like?”

“Like you’re removing your clothes in my office.”

“Catch on quick.” He slowly undid the last button, making sure to dig his eyes straight into hers. Hermione tried not to notice the taught, pale muscles lined in his abdomen, or the way his hips made that exquisite V shape down into his trousers. He noticed her bite her bottom lip, because he smirked. “Like what you see?”

Determined, Hermione jutted out her chin and said calmly, “If this is your attempt to seduce me, I won’t be swayed.”

“Seduce you? Without your knowledge? I’d have to be daft to attempt it. No, Granger. This is all for me.” With his lean form, opened shirt, and slicked back hair, he looked like something out of a Play-Witch magazine. Hermione stifled a sigh and set her eyes down at her work. But it didn’t stop Draco from crossing the room, shoving all of the paperwork off of her desk, and sitting blatantly on top of it. His knees caged her face, but he did nothing but smirk down at her.

“Getting a good row out of this?”

“Hardly. Bite your lip again for me, will you? I want that in my mind for what comes next.”

“And what would that be—“ She cut herself off, because Draco reached for his belt buckle and undid the clasp. She gasped and said, “Draco Malfoy! You are not considering-”

“Considering? No. Doing? Yes.” He slipped the buckle off and tossed it at her. She reached for his hands to stop him from going further, however he simply took them and rubbed them over the stiffness pressed against the zipper of his pants. Her eyes widened, and she felt him twitch underneath her touch. Refusing to give in, she pulled her hands away and sat them in her lap.

“I’m working,” She said again.

“And I’m distracting,” He smirked, pulling down the zipper of his trousers and pulling his full length out into the open. Hermione tried to look elsewhere, but the sight of Draco Malfoy, exposed on her desk, his hand gripping himself and staring so dangerously coy into her eyes… It made a lump form in her throat, and her mouth suddenly became very wet. “Thought you were working?” He teased, running his fingers up the length of his cock, running his thumb along the head. “Don’t let me stop you.”

She tried to gain composure, but watching his long fingers curve around himself, stroking so slowly and gently… it was exhilarating to watch. He stared placidly at her, speeding up and slowing down at his own leisure, sometimes sighing out a breath of pleasure. His cock twitched, and he slowed his motions, eyes never leaving hers.

“You’re biting your lip again. Makes me want to shove the whole thing down your throat.”

She blinked. “Why don’t you?”

“You’re working, remember?”

Hermione shifted nervously in her seat, weighing the options. On one hand, she was in her office, broad day, on Ministry hours. Anyone could knock on her door at any given time. And this wasn’t like after hours, where the odds of getting caught were slim. But on the other hand, she had a blonde, sex-driven man wanking himself on her desk, giving her ‘fuck-me’ eyes. And that, no matter how career driven a woman could be, would make anyone forget themselves. Which is exactly what Hermione did as she jumped out of her chair and began a savage attack on his lips, kissing them with such vitality it made him stumble back on the desk and release himself to wrap his arms around her. He wasted no time in ripping off her clothes, first with her robes, then her dress shirt, and finally managing to wriggle her out of her dress slacks. He pulled her on top of him then to sit in his lap. Naked, hungry, and wanting nothing but him, Hermione ran her fingers through his hair and whispered, “Happy anniversary, Draco.”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

And then he rammed her down on him, hard and fast and completely abandoned of thought. Hermione gasped as her insides sheathed around him, and her head fell back in pleasure. It took everything she had not to moan there and then. “Oh, God…” She braced her knees down on the desk to find balance, and when she did she began to bounce herself up and down on him, hands on his shoulders, teeth on his neck.

“Happy… anniversary indeed…” He gasped when she rolled her hips forward, hitting her sweet spot. Their mouths found each other, waging a war for dominance. Draco conceded, relaxing into the kiss while he set his hands on her hips and began to rock her at a steady pace. Hermione dove her tongue in his mouth, relishing in the taste of mint and apples. Together, they knocked off nearly every item on Hermione’s desk as they fucked each other senseless on her brand new desk.

Hermione felt herself near her orgasm, and Draco did too, because he scooped her up by her bum and began to thrust upwards just the way she liked until he had her moaning like a school girl in a porno film. She tried to fight back the scream as he rammed particularly hard into her, but it won. Her back arched, her entire body shook as she came, and she bit her lip so hard she swore she could taste blood. But she didn’t care, because the euphoric feeling that washed over her like a shimmering heat wave was much more than a bit of copper taste in her mouth. Draco grinned, proud of his accomplishment, and smacked her ass. “Now, it’s my turn.” He stood up, carrying her by the underside of her thighs, and grabbed his wand, which had been sitting at the edge of the desk. Gently, he set her down on her feet. “Over to the wall now, Granger. Hands above your head. And close your eyes.”

“A-Allright,” She breathed, still in her post orgasm. Doing as she was told, she got right up against the wall and spread her arms up to the ceiling.

“Eyes closed, now.”

She pressed her eyes closed and waited. She heard him whisper something, but it was lost to her- that is, until she felt cold metal clasp around her wrists. Her mouth parted in a quiet gasp, but she did not speak. Draco’s hands glided up the sides of her arms as he pressed his firm body against her backside. She could feel the fabric of his pants brush against her bum, and it excited her, the heat from his body contradicting the bitter cold of the wall. Metal clinked above her; she was very sure she had been shackled.

“My beautiful little Gryffindor, all tied up for me,” He muttered into her hair, brushing his lips against the shell of her ear. “Feel free to scream as loud as you want. I silenced the room before I came in.”

“You what-?” She started, but was cut off by a crisp smack to her bum. His palm rubbed the tender flesh immediately after, building the burn before he gave her arse another slap. “Oh, fuck…” Her legs gave way, but the metal cuffs around her wrists braced her upright. She opened her eyes to see that they were laced through a metal hoop, no doubt placed there by magic.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her up on her tiptoes, angling his hard cock against her slick folds. “Ready?” And he slammed into her, merciless. The sheer force of his thrust made her lose balance on her tiptoes and fall forward, but the chains kept her up as her breasts fell against the rough exterior of the wall. Hermione bit her lip and groaned, unsure if she could take him all in but damn willing to try. At this angle, he was able to force all of him into her, over and over again, sometimes taking his time and others barely giving her time to register before he would slam into her again. Her breasts bounced up and down. Sweat dripped down her back.

When he found the spot that made her cry out, he smirked and held himself there, twitching within her. “Fucking tight…” He reached up, grabbed the chains of her shackles and began to thrust. Hermione, who had been busy trying NOT to scream, soon lost all inhibitions. Her back arched as he attempted to break her in half. The pain made her see stars, but it was worth it for the bit of pleasure mixed with it. “Oh… God, yes… like that, Draco… fuck…”

“Say it again.”

She cried out, “Draco!”

One of his hands traveled down her body until it found her hip, and he dug his nails in. “Again.”

“Draco… Draco… oh, fuck, Draco…”

One final, painfully blissful thrust later, he came within her. She could feel the warmth of his release fill her up, and she welcomed it. Two years, and she never got enough of being filled with his cum. She never got enough of his sex, or his kiss, or his laugh, or his scent. She didn’t reckon she’d ever get enough of him.

“I love you,” She whispered.

Chuckling, he replied, “Love you too, Granger.” He pulled out of her and moved away from her body, allowing her to slump against the slack of the chains. Her entire body was shaking. She waited for him to undo the shackles, but instead she saw him begin to dress out of the corner of her eye.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed, of course,” He smirked.

“So unchain me first.”

He started to button up his shirt. “No, don’t think I will.”

“What??”

“I think I’ll go for some lunch. You hungry?”

“Let me down!” She seethed, shaking against the chains. Embarrassment shrouded over her. “If someone comes in…”

“I’ve already covered all of that.” The last button done, he slid his belt back into place and added, “I might have charmed your door to make other people forget why they wanted to see you in the first place. No one will be coming into that door, sans me, of course. –I’m thinking Thai. What do you think, Hermione?”

“I think you’re a despicable git if you think you’re going to leave me tied up like this.”

“Words hurt, Granger. I think I’ll take my time, then.” He strolled over to her, smirking, and ran a finger in between her legs. “So wet…” Hermione closed her eyes as he slid two fingers within her. “Filled with my cum. Do you feel pretty like this? I think you look glorious.” He curled his fingers and made her moan. “I want you to stay just like this until I get back. Think about what a dirty little girl you’ve been. And when I get back-” He pulled his fingers out of her and shoved them into her mouth, “-Round two.” He gave her a wink, removed his fingers, and smacked her hard on the ass before sauntering away from her to the door. Hermione, still shaking from his sudden repel from her, turned her head over her shoulder and glared. Draco gave her a wave. “Happy anniversary, love. See you in an hour. We’ll be doing this all day.”

Hope you enjoyed the smut! The last chapter will be pretty intense, and an emotional rollercoaster, so don't get all feelzy just yet.

See you soon, muggles.
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Drinking Buddies