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She was watching him from behind one of the large wooden bookcases she had known for years now. They were familiar to her, almost like home. Every little drawing left behind by a bored child, any slight groove spelling out promises of loves long forgotten - she had been there nearly every day (and then every summer break) to see the new additions, - be it books or teenage vandalism - to remember them by heart.
She had done the same with him over the past year; watching him, memorising his mouth, his nose, his always slightly furrowed brows. She couldn't see him well enough from where she was standing, but she was sure he had them drawn together at that moment as well, just like he always did when he tried to understand something.
She looked around to make sure they were alone before she made her way towards him. It was a warm Friday evening, so most people had better things to do than be in the library, but these days she felt eyes on her everywhere she went.
His head turned slightly towards the sound of her steps, and he put the book back in its place.
"You're late." His voice was neutral, no accusation nor a hint of emotion, but it wasn't only his profile she had studied over their last year.
"My parents insisted I have one last supper with them before I leave tomorrow."
She followed his eyes fall to the ground before turning to her full of the emotion his voice lacked.
"Tomorrow already?"
Her only answer was a half-hearted shrug. She didn't have anything else to add on that topic, no matter how often he tried to talk her out of it, make her run away to his summer house in Marseille, and abandon her friends. 'Only if you come with me,' she had told him because she knew he would never leave his family's side.
He shook his head free of his thoughts and held her face in his hands. His stormy grey eyes followed the lines of her bushy eyebrows, her slightly uneven nose, before landing on her flushed lips and making her heart beat faster.
"I've missed you, Hermione." She felt her knees nearly buckle when her name left his mouth, and his breath whispered on her skin like a feathery light kiss.
"Oh?" She was glad her voice sounded more in control than she actually was. "It's only been a week."
His eyes were trained on the movement of her lips. He bent his head down while her chin went up to meet him in a kiss, but he only grazed the left corner of her mouth for a second.
"It wouldn't have been more than a day if I had any say in it." He bent down again, this time to kiss the other side, and Hermione almost huffed in frustration.
"If you've missed me so much than kiss me like you mean it."
When he looked at her again, his eyes were dark, and she felt the breath hitch in her throat. She had missed him too - more than she wanted to admit if the heat in her underwear was anything to go by.
"Can do."
She gasped in surprise when her back hit the shelves behind her in a matter of seconds, making books fall to the ground, crumpling some pages, but she couldn't have cared less at that moment. His right hand was holding the back of her head to make sure she didn't bump it, while the left was holding her up, pressed against him and the bookcase.
He didn't leave her time to catch her breath before crashing his lips with hers and kissing her deeply. His lips were soft and tasted like cinnamon, a hint of the firewhiskey he prefered. His hand went down to the nape of her neck, playing with the little strands of hair that had come loose from her bun already, and she let her shoulders relax against the hard wood.
She could feel his eyes on her, and when she opened hers to check, his lids were indeed only halfway closed. She had thought it weird the first time she had noticed but had come to like him always watching her. He smiled into the kiss, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He buried his hand into her hair, making the bun come fully loose, and then pulled at it hard. Her mouth opened, almost as if to scream, but the pain was just on the brink of good, and all that came out was a moan.
He took a step forward and pressed her harder against the wood, hoisting her up so that she could only touch the ground with the tips of her shoes. Her arms were around his neck for support, hands buried in his blond hair that he had still bothered styling that day knowing full well Hermione liked messing it up.
"No." His growl against the skin he had just been kissing made the little hairs on her arms rise.
Her breathing was heavy, and her laugh dark.
"So you get to mess up my hair, but I can't touch yours?"
He nodded. "Exactly," and nipped at her collarbone.
Hermione's gasp echoed through the hall they were in. He didn't leave her any time to fill her lungs with air again before yanking her blouse open, making some of the buttons fall to the ground. He massaged her breasts hard and left a trail of open-mouthed kissed up her throat. Her barely-there objections died down before she could even gather the air to word them when he started kissing her again, sucking at her bottom lip.
There were sounds of steps coming from the end of the hallway, but her need to know everything vanished just as it always did when she was with him. His left hand traced down her breasts, her hips, and then legs to gain access to the hem of her knickers. He had pulled them down only by an inch when there was more sound coming from her right.
Both of them stopped, their eyes meeting. There were droplets of sweat she could feel trailing down the valley between her breasts that were heaving up and down. He lowered her down a bit, just so that her feet were able to touch the ground, but still their eyes didn't leave each others gaze.
He raised his eyebrow and quirked his head into the directions the noise was coming from, and Hermione tried stifling her laughter. He grinned at her and pulled down her panties entirely.
"Don't," she warned him, but her grin was giving her away.
He got on his knees and made fast work of burying his face under her skirt. Hermione's mouth opened wide in a silent moan. Her legs felt wobbly, and she fell back on the hard wood behind her. One hand was grasping at a shelve to give her the needed support while the other was buried in his hair, helping his tongue guide itself the way she liked it best.
It didn't take long for her to lose control of her legs, buckling, and sliding down the shelves, taking more books down with her. She had tried to keep the sounds of her pleasure to a minimum but let out a louder whimper when the steps of the invading person retreated.
"You should know by now to make the radius bigger." She was breathing hard and watching him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Or maybe you just like the idea of almost getting caught."
"That's what makes it fun."
"Oh, only that?"
She crawled over to where he was half lying on the ground and pushed his upper body down. She straddled him and began rocking her pelvis slowly up and down of the length of his hard erection, her breath hitching from the friction of his pants on her naked skin. His hands went up to her hips to take control of her movements, but she pinned them to the ground. He could have easily turned them around and had his way, but he let her, watching her every movement.
She held his arms pinned down above his head with one and tried to unbuckle his belt with the other. It was harder than he had made it seem when she had been in a similar situation a few meetings ago. Granted, he was taller, with longer arms than hers and she had started wearing only skirts to make it easier for him.
His chest shook slightly with the grumbling of his laugh.
"Shut it, Malfoy." She wasn't going to give up, she decided and reached for her wand. His hands were as if glued down on the ground with one small flick of her wrist. With both free, it only took her a couple of seconds to unbuckle his belt and free his erection. She knew it was driving him mad, but she didn't yet touch him, instead making her way up his white button-up shirt and tracing the flexed muscles under it, following old scars he had from being a careless boy once playing quidditch with friends, maybe climbing trees like she used to with her cousins, and more recent ones from thought allies, family, enemies.
His hips bucked up, and she reprimanded him with a slap to his side. He glowered at her which she awarded with a pinch to his nipple.
"Patience, Draco."
His eyes softened a bit at the sound of his name.
"We don't have time for this."
She rolled her eyes and lowered her lips to kiss his abused nipple. He was right, she knew it. She had to get back home soon, check her bag and the supplies for the umpteenth time, and he- She didn't know how he had even managed to come meet her again after the last time.
She kissed down his torso, the little hairs tickling her nose as she made her way down. He was hard as a rock already, so it only took her two licks to elicit a low moan out of him. She smirked against him, it was always her goal to have him moan like he made her.
"Granger." His voice was low and would have sounded more dangerous if his arms weren't glued down to the ground over his head. She straddled him again, hovering over him with his tip at her entrance.
"Only because I know how you are when you don't get what you want."
And with one swoop of her skirt, she took him in fully. Her mouth went to his, swallowing their moans every time she moved her hips. She started slow, though he tried to make her go faster by jerking his hips under her.
She was still going slow, maddening not only him but also herself, when he bit her lip. Her movement stopped altogether to glower at him. Her hand went up to her lips, there was no blood, but it still tasted like metal.
"Free my hands."
"That hurt, you prick."
"Free. My. Hands." He emphasised each word with a jerk, accompanied by small gasps from Hermione. She was still glowering at him when she cast the finite on him, and he rolled them over, so he was on top.
"If I get carpet burns on my back I'm never talking to you again."
"Is that so?" His eyes twinkled with a wicked glint, and he thrust hard. She could feel a burning feeling on her back, but her mind seemed to forget her threat to him the moment he slammed inside her again, making her skin feel like it was burning all over and not just on her spine.
He took mercy on her with his third thrust, gathering her up in his arms, so she was sitting on top of him again. Her arms went around his back, tracing his shoulder muscles with her nails, and leaving her marks on him.
She felt the build-up in her lower belly threatening to burst soon with every stroke of his, every kiss or nibble. Hermione wanted to kiss him back, but all she managed to was moan his name while he held her hair back and kissed her eyes, her mouth, her everywhere.
She cried his name out one last time, not caring if anyone was nearby that could hear her. Her chest was heaving up and down with her fast breathing, his strokes becoming more languid inside of her, making her fulfilled in more ways than one.
She opened her eyes slowly, meeting his fixed gaze quick. He seemed wide awake watching her with her heavy eyes, rocking lazily back and forth on him.
They stayed like that for a while. Draco watching her like he wanted to remember every freckle on her skin, and Hermione resting her forehead on his, her breathing getting more regular.
She wanted to get off and get dressed when she felt him soft inside of her, but he held her back. He searched for the tie he had yanked out of her hair earlier and pulled her curls back into a bun, trailing small kisses on her jawline. Her blouse was still halfway on her, and he straightened it for her, magicking the buttons back on with his wand. She reached for her knickers that had ended up behind him near some books, but he snatched them from her.
"I'll keep these." The elastic snapped away from her into his hand.
"Pervert," she mumbled against his lips, kissing him again.
They ended up sitting against the bookcase again, content and warm from their encounter. They didn't talk, instead enjoying the last minutes they had together. Both of them knew that they had extended their time together for as long as they could. Still, neither of them moved.
"I should go," he said then, though he didn't move away from her, his forehead still resting against hers, breathing their mixed scents in, memorising them.
Hermione nodded, cupping his face with her hands. She felt the tears threatening to spill over and didn't stop them. She wanted to tell him, but she kept her mouth closed.
What did it matter now?
It wouldn't change anything.
She was a coward.
I love you, she thinks.
"I love you," he says.
She closed her eyes, her frame shaking silently against his body. Her jaw clenched shut, she wanted to stop the tears from spilling, but they wouldn't listen.
"I love you," he said again, trying to kiss away her tears, but they were faster.
She opened her eyes again, looking him hard in his. She wouldn't say it, not now, but she wanted him to know. He was always so stoic, determined not to let anyone see what he felt, who he was, but right then he looked so open, so vulnerable.
"I love y-"
Her fingernails scratched at the skin on his neck due to the force she had pulled him in with. Her hot tears were still falling, mixing with some of his. She could feel their salty taste on her lips as they kissed for the last time.
This would be the last time, she promised herself.
They broke apart to fill their lungs back up with air and didn't kiss again.
Hermione grabbed for her bag and stood. Draco stayed put where he was but kept hold of her hand even as she turned away to leave.
It took all the power she could muster up, but she squeezed his hand for the last time, and let go without looking back. She couldn't promise herself she would leave if she even so much as glanced back at him.
One step at a time, her feet brought her closer towards the entrance, towards home, towards tomorrow.
One step at a time, her tears dried down, and she left him behind.