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The main thing Hermione hated about having sex with muggles was that afterwards she couldn't use a scourgify to clean up and leave, she had to shower. Hermione preferred baths. Showers were too impersonal. Which brings us to second thing she hated about sex with muggle men, they expected her to shower with them after. And by shower, she means have a go at sex again.
It never worked.
Sometimes the height difference was too much. Sometimes the shower was slippery and they almost hurt themselves. Sometimes the area was too small. Sometimes she just didn't want to. She had gotten what she wanted. She would like to perform the charm, get dressed and floo home, back to Crooks and the book she was reading that made her find this man in the first place.
Hermione sighed, as she heard the shower in the other room. David, a lovely artist she met at the gallery opening she attended this evening, told her to join him once the water heated up. Another thing she didn’t miss from living in the muggle world- waiting for the water to warm. Magic made these things easier.
After the shower (and failed attempt at a shower shag), David asked her to stay half heartedly. She politely declined and briskly walked to the nearest appapartion point.
Hermione had been finding muggle men to shag for a few years now. After she and Ron broke up and Rita wrote another article about Hermione the Heartbreaker, she didn't want to date any wizards. Having her parents' memories returned and living closer to her in London, Hermione spent much of her free time in muggle London with them. She had never been shy with Ron or any of the muggle men. She felt that good sex involved telling each other what they wanted. It worked at first with Ron, but soon he felt that she was directing him… “ bossing him around” were his exact words. Was it so bad that she wanted to orgasm too? Muggle men were the same, though she didn't give many of them a second chance. Life was too short for men that couldn’t find the clit. They weren’t 16 year olds bumbling in the broom closest anymore, these were grown men that couldn’t find it with a map.
She wanted to settle down. She did. But she didn't want to settle . Not for mediocre men. Not for mediocre sex.
It was a few weeks after David, Hermione felt like going out again. Maybe this time she would find someone that would last a few months. She just celebrated her 32nd birthday and her mother, alongside Molly Weasley, attempted to subtly send her on a date with some wizard from Percy’s work. It had been Hermione’s worst idea having her mother and Molly meet after her parents returned from Australia. They were in kahoots about her love life since, especially after she and Ron ended things. She had said no to the date but couldn’t say no to the charity gala her parents requested she go to in their stead. They assured her it was a muggle event and no eligible wizards would be vying for her hand or expecting a blind date.
She dressed in a lovely green silk floor length gown, her hair in a chignon at the nape of her neck with a small string of pearls as her only adornment. The gala was a benefit for children affected by war, a cause she was far too familiar with and willing to spend a lot of money to make sure it didn't happen again. She arrived on time and the charity event was surprisingly swanky, on the rooftop of an expensive London hotel.
Walking in, her eyes scanned the crowd. Noticing it was firmly muggle, she walked to the bar for a drink. Once she had a drink in hand, she made her rounds of the room, looking at the silent auction, making a few bids, and finding her table for the night. Soon after, the emcee announced there would be a speech from the head of the charity.
The lights dimmed and Hermione’s attention flicked up to the stage. The short and jovial emcee smiled brightly in his tuxedo as he welcomed the guests to the event.
“Thank you all for joining us. We have already raised twenty-thousand dollars for the charity! Thank you. Thank you! Now for the man you’ve been waiting to see all night. A man that has done countless good since starting this charity. It is my pleasure to introduce…”
Hermione looked to the stage where a tall, fit and familiar blonde, smiling broadly, walked on to the stage. Reaching to shake the emcee's hand. Hermione dropped her glass. Red wine seeping into the white table cloth.
“… Draco Malfoy. CEO and Founder of For the Children. ”
A riotous applause broke out, but Hermione could hear nothing over the ringing in her ears. He was speaking, thanking the crowd. Smiling. Laughing . This was not the boy she knew. Nor the man portrayed in the magical world. After his trial, he completed his parole and slipped quietly from magical society. His mother kept up appearances and the Malfoy name was slowly regaining its good standing. How had she no idea he was in muggle London? A CEO of a children of war charity, nonetheless? Coming back to the present, she heard the last of his speech.
“This charity has been dear to me for many reasons. Mostly, no child should have to suffer for the wars of their parents. They should be safe, loved and cared for. And that’s what For The Children strives to accomplish. Thank you for being here tonight, please visit the silent auction and let's help as many children as we can! For the Children!”
The crowd chanted “For the Children!” in reply and he left the stage. Hermione’s shock wore off and she noticed the man that Draco Malfoy had grown into over the past few years. He commanded the room as he walked around, remembering the names of everyone he spoke to. He was tall, so much taller than she remembered. He had taken off his suit jacket, and she had to actively stop herself from gaping at the strong arms in his button down. The wide strong shoulders. He might have been her childhood bully, but he was a victim of circumstances. Without his courage to lie to Bellatrix, neither of them would be standing here today.
Lost in the memory, she didn’t see him walk up to her table until the man sitting next to her stood abruptly reaching out for Malfoy's hand.
“Mr. Malfoy. This is a lovely event for your wonderful charity. “
“It’s Draco, please, Mr. Fitzwilliam. And thank you for your generous words. Let’s hope you have a pocketbook just as generous.” He winked and laughed jovially as Mr. Fitzwilliam laughed at the joke. Draco’s gaze turned from the man in front of him and stopped with a stutter on Hermione. Shock and something akin to fear quickly raced across his features. His smile faltered for a moment but he quickly regained his composure.
“Miss Granger. I did not expect to see you here. Thank you for your contribution.”
“My parents’ friend, Mr. Fitzwilliam…” she pointed to the man whose shocked face was looking between them, “...invited them, but they are unfortunately on vacation with Authur and Molly Weasley in Greece and asked me to come and bid in their stead. What a perfect cause Draco. May I call you ‘Draco’?”
She asked with more conviction than she felt. The man before her did not take his eyes from her, gazing up and down her dress. Her green dress. His eyes widened so quickly she might not have caught it, if she hadn’t been so absorbed by the steel grey of his eyes. Draco Malfoy had always been handsome, but he was also a giant prat. The man before her was even more handsome and a philanthropist for children’s charities.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. May I call you ‘Hermione’?”
“Very well,” She shook his hand and reached for her wine glass, finding it empty and frowning at it.
“We can’t have an empty glass, Hermione. Let’s get you a top off.” He gestured for her to walk toward the bar. Stepping in front of him, she felt a large warm hand on her lower back. Electricity shot to her core, dampening her knickers. She instinctively looked at Malfoy. His eyes smiled fakely while his thumb moved in a slight circle. She felt hot and bothered and a little crazy for feeling hot and bothered. This was Malfoy, Draco Malfoy . Draco was fit, but was she already wet from just his hand on her back? She couldn’t really be entertaining the thought of shagging her childhood bully. It just had been a while since she last had sex, it was purely bercause he was fit. Merlin, help me, she thought as she tried to convince herself.
Draco smiled and greeted all the attendees they passed, leading her slowly to the bar. It felt like he was showing her off, introducing her to everyone he spoke to. Normally, she didn’t care for the spotlight, she had enough of that after and during the war. But when Draco introduced her, it felt different. Intimate. Like she was something he cherished. She shook her head, clearing the thought. Draco was a smooth philanthropist, good with his words, and probably using Hermione as a shield from the women who had been drooling over him all night.
Reaching the bar she asked for a Cabernet.
“No, Ted. Give her a glass of my bottle of Pinot please,” He looked at Hermione, who was scowling at him. Of course he’d have a special bottle of wine for himself. Draco saw the scowl. “Please try it, it’s from Blaise’s family vineyard in Italy, and I planned on sharing it anyway. You’ll love it.”
“Fine.” She said in a huff that was immediately quieted when she tasted the delicious liquid. A quiet moan escaped her lips.
“Told you.” Draco said with a smirk. She rolled her eyes, but he continued, “Did I also tell you that you look utterly gorgeous in that green dress, Hermione?” He gave her hip a hard squeeze before running his large hand up and down the hurt.
Hermione flushed but immediately lowered her voice to retort.
“The atoned man still has a penchant for his house colors?” She quirked her brow, her chocolate eyes meeting his deep gray. A challenge and test. How much had he changed? Could he handle the jest?
His hand gripped her hip again as he leaned down to her ear. His fringe brushed her cheek. His mouth touched the shell of her ear as he whispered, “You would look gorgeous in any color, Hermione. But green suits you. I am the envy of every man in this room with you by my side.”
Hermione gasped as his grip on her hip bones tightened and then loosened. He ran his hands over the hurts again and she almost let out a small moan when he put his hands in his pockets. Closing her eyes for a moment, she turned to face Draco.
“Thank you,” she said meekly, eyes on the ground.
Draco lifted her chin with two fingers, forcing eye contact. Hermione forgot to breathe, feeling hot all over as another flood of electricity went through her.
“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you looking at the floor,” He challenged.
“Thank you, Draco.” Hermione repeated, firmly this time. Not severing eye contact.
“You’re welcome, Hermione.” He smirked, letting her chin go, “Well, I will be off to schmooze a little more. Are you staying long?”
“Oh, erhm..” Hermione fumbled her answer. Before she realized it was Draco’s charity, she hadn’t seen anyone that caught her eye. She only planned to stay for one more drink and head home. Draco cleared his throat, bringing her back to him.
“I would like it if you stayed, Hermione.” He said, lust filled eyes burning into her. She was sure that her shock had shone through her own.
“Erm, yes, I think I'll stay a while, Draco. It’s turning into a lovely and surprising evening,” She added, hoping it was flirty but subtle. Godric, this is the part I’m not good at, she thought to herself.
“I was hoping you’d say that. Would you like to walk with me? After I say hello to a few people, we could find a quiet place to…. Catch up?”
There was no mistaking it. He flirted back. Did he really mean catch up, or something else? His hand reached for her face, tugging on an errant curl. He pushed it slowly behind her ear, dragging his finger and a cold signet ring along her neck. She shivered, but not from the cold. She had to decide, would she continue this flirtation and maybe more, or would she end it now? With Draco sodding Malfoy? Her body’s response to him told her one thing, while her brain warred within itself.
In the end, lust won out.
“Yes.” She said, voice full of need and anticipation. “I’d like that… Draco.’
HIs hand still on her collarbone, he grabbed her behind her neck, lifting her face to his. He took a step closer to her, invading her space, their bodies only a few centimeters from touching. His warmth radiated through her silk dress, and she attempted to close the distance between them. His hand tightened on her neck, preventing the movement. His grip was close to painful but the display of dominance shot lust to her core.
“Good Girl. Let’s walk the room shall we?” His hand slid down her back, a trail of goosebumps in its wake, landing on her lower back once more. Hermione leaned into the touch, gathering her glass of wine and walking in the direction Draco faced.
Draco stopped to talk to everyone in the room, about the charity and where their donations would go. Hermione might have been impressed if she could concentrate on more than Draco’s fingers slipping down into her low backed dress. The first time it happened, she jumped slightly, and she thought it was accidental. The next time, slightly lower, she looked at Draco and he tapped her twice with a long finger, as if he was asking permission. She took a moment to consider, but nodded. His ministrations continued tortuously for the next two hours. Hermione was pent up and aching by the time people started leaving the event. She still didn't know what to make of her lust for Draco, but if just one of his hands on her back all night could make her this wet, she didn't care anyhow.
“Are you ready for our chat , Hermione?” He turned to her, top buttons of his shirt undone, jacket over an arm, the other in his pocket. Hermione’s mouth dried, By the gods, he was gorgeous. She gathered all the Gryffindor courage she could muster to act cool and not beg him to shag her in the loo.
“Yes, Draco. Yes, I am. Lead the way.”
“Of course.” He smiled seductively. Arm outstretched for her to thread hers through, they began to walk toward the elevator. Once inside, he pushed the “P”.
“The Penthouse, Draco? Isn’t this supposed to be a charity event?”
“Yes and you will remember, I am rich. We paid our reparations but it did not scratch the surface of the Malfoy vaults. And, for your knowledge, I paid for this from my own accounts, not the charity. I take nothing from the charity.”
“Not even a salary, after all you are its CEO?”
“Did you listen, Hermione? The brightest witch of her age, and she can’t comprehend what I said. I am wealthy many times over, Hermione. I do not need a salary from this charity.”
Hermione harrumphed and rolled her eyes, making a noncommittal sound of understanding. The doors to the elevator dinged, and they stepped inside. The suite was beautiful. Wide open, it was more of a studio and less of a hotel room. A very large and luxurious studio, Looking around she saw a desk and office space to her left. To her right was a large bed, with crisp white sheets. Behind the bed was a bathroom, a large opening separated it from the bedroom but there were no doors. A shower took up the entire back wall, there were at least 5 shower heads and a bench in the shower. The white marble walls were gleaming. Draco caught her staring.
“Would you like to take a shower, Hermione?”
She turned to him quickly. Surprise lighting her features. “I prefer soaks in a tub.”
“Hmm… I think you’d like this shower.” He turned from her, walking to the other side of the room. “Would you like another drink?”
“Just water, please,”
“Very well.” He poured two waters before bringing them to the living area, near a small couch.
She followed, and reached for the glass, “Thank you,”
“You’re welcome,” he said, motioning for her to sit as he followed suit. “I must admit, I didn’t think you would say yes to this chat. I honestly thought you would have left the event as soon as you saw me give the speech.”
“Draco,” she said breathlessly, “you are not who you were. Seeing what you’ve done… it's… impressive,” Hermione scooted closer to Draco, their knees brushing. She placed a hand on his arm, “Please tell me you’ve changed. That this isn’t an act.”
“No. It’s not an act.” Draco croaked. “The wizarding world has labeled my family and I Death Eaters, and even with my mother’s attempts to bring our name back, it would have been years before I could do any good there. So, I took my talents to the muggle world.”
“That is tremendous Draco. I… I.. thank you…”
“Please don’t. Don't thank me. Thank you for winning the war. For letting me see the error of my ways, I had started to see the blights long before The Dark Lord invaded my manor but was too cowardly to change. So don’t ever thank me.” He took her glass from her hand and placed it on the table. “I should be thanking you.”
He ran a hand down her face, thumbing swiping across her lips, eyes dark with desire.
“Hermione?” She looked at him in reply. “May I… may I kiss you?”
Hermione’s eyes widened, heat flooding her cunt. She almost moaned her answer.
“Yes. Please. Please .”
“Thank Merlin for that.” And Draco pounced. His mouth wasn’t soft or delicate. He was rough and needy. His hands dexterously removed the pins from her chignon, letting her curls flow down her back. Hands following her hair, smoothly running up and down the length of her spine.
His lips moved to her chin, peppering kissing down her neck to her collarbone. He nipped and sucked, leaving Hermione squirming in his grasp. Her hands roamed his back and arms, pulling at his shirt. She needed to feel his skin against hers and the blasted material prevented that. She pulled away breathing heavily, standing up, pulling him with her. She placed her fingers on the top button of his shirt, looking at him in a silent question until he gave her a small nod. She kissed him at each spot she undid his button, working the shirt out of his trousers. All the buttons undone, she ran her arms up his strong abs and chest, rounding over his shoulders and pulling his shirt off. It fell on the floor at their feet.
Hermione took a step back, her gaze taking her fill of the sight of him. Hair askew, chest heaving, eyes wide and blown out. She could see the bulge at his zipper and licked her lips. Stepping out of her shoes, and taking the step back to Draco, she looked up at his eyes. Slowly, she pulled the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders one by one. Draco’s breath hitched, his hands flexed as he held himself back from touching her. Her dress landed at her feet, and she stepped out of it, her hard nipples brushing his heaving chest.
Her hands reached for his belt, stopping she lifted a brow, “May I?” Draco swallowed, hands trailing up her arms, a shiver running down Hermione’s spine. “Draco?” She whispered. “May I?’
He pulled himself from the trance of her skin, squeezing her hips and pulling her close with a rough and heady kiss. Echoing her words from before, he pulled away, “Yes. Please.”
Hermione lost all sense of seduction at the growl that came from deep in Draco’s chest as she undid his belt, tossing it on the couch. She pulled at the button, and unzipped the trousers, pulling them down as quickly as she could. She couldn’t wait any longer. She needed this. Needed him. She had never been so aroused in her life. Her legs clenched together and she bit her lip, noticing the tip of his erection peeking out of his black briefs. She reached to touch him, but he grabbed her wrist and whirled her around so her back was firmly against his warm chest.
“My turn.” Draco muttered into her ear, as he nipped her lobe. He kissed down her throat sucking where her shoulder met her throat, while his hands undid the clasp of her bra. The lace drifted to the floor as Draco hands cupped her breasts. Kneading them, and pinching a nipple. Hermione mewled, pushing her arse back into his hard crotch. She needed more. She tried to turn toward him but he held her firmly in place. He pulled her face to his, his tongue invading her mouth, tasting like mint and the wine they shared. He was hot and smelled divine. Grinding his pelvis into her, she moaned, pushing as hard as she could.
“Please, Draco. I need more.”
“Greedy witch. Your wish is my command.” Instead of turning her around or taking her to the bed or couch, Draco plunged his long fingers down her lace knickers. He thrust one finger inside of her, his thumb immediately finding her bundle of nerves. She screamed, almost coming instantly. Draco stilled, but Hermione ground down on his hand. Slowly pulling his finger out, he added a second before, pushing back in, stretching her channel. He hooked his fingers, hitting her in the perfect spot while rubbing slow wide circles around her clit. Hermione felt her orgasm building and building. Panting, she reached behind for Draco, running her hands up and down his cock still inside his briefs. She moaned and Draco upped the pace of his fingers and thumb. The world began to fade and Hermione only felt . Only him . Seconds later, the world came apart and Hermione screamed his name as she came undone around his hand.
Draco slowed his ministrations, pulling out of her. He kissed her neck and mouth, before moving his fingers to her lips.
“Taste,” he demanded.
Hermione obeyed, opening her mouth and closing them around his fingers, tasting herself. Her eyes fluttered and she turned, dropping to her knees in front of the only man to ever make her come by just his hand. She pulled at his underwear till they fell away, his heavy length bobbing in front of her. Licking a tentative line from his base to tip, Draco hissed. His hands finding purchase in her curls, with a hint of pain, Hermione was urged on. She took his head in her mouth, swirling her tongue around his tip and licking the salty bead that had formed. She looked up at Draco, his eyes closed in ecstasy, and took all of him she could in her mouth. She gagged slightly when his head reached her throat. She stilled, looking up at Draco again.
His eyes met hers, making her dizzy with lust. She was doing this to him. The thought only made her wetter. He tightened his hold on her hair and rocked her back and forth on his cock, stopping only when she was about to gag. Salvia dripping from the corners of her mouth, she let him fuck her throat. She relished it, wanting to take him deeper, needing to taste his spend. She could feel his length twitching in her mouth, and Draco slowed. In a rush, he pulled from her mouth, lifted her to her feet, and urged her to the large bed across the room. Shoving her face down on the bed, he ripped her lace panties off, the slight pain mixing with the deep arousal of the dominant nature of the act. He lined himself with her core and in one deep quick thrust, he sheathed himself to the hilt.
Hermione screamed, seeing stars at the unexpected and immediate orgasm. Draco growled, thrusting harder and harder, their bodies slapping together. His hands gripped her hips, bruising her, but she didn't care, she wanted to bear his marks. She wanted more, needed more. He slowed, and she whimpered, pushing back to claim the punishing thrusts.
“More,” she finally cried out and Draco pulled her back to his chest by her hair thrusts long and slow. The new angle hit her deep inside her, her release climbing again slowly this time, she knew Draco would come with her. His hand across her chest, cradling her to him as if he was afraid she would leave if he let go.
“Draco. I’m going to come.” She panted through thrusts. “Please, come with me. I need you.”
He growled and bit down hard on her shoulder, increasing his pace and intensity. She cried out, on the edge.
“Touch yourself, Hermione. We will come together.” He pushed her hand towards her swollen bud. She pressed two fingers to her clit, rubbing in fast circles. “Now. Come now, Hermione.” Draco growled in her ear.
She screamed, collapsing on all fours. She could feel Draco’s release come over him, the warmth spreading inside her. She knew she would be dripping from him and for once she didn't want a scourgify charm. She wanted to live like this—sweaty, sated, and filled with Draco.
They laid in bed for a few moments, catching their breath. Draco had laid her down gently and curled behind her, his hand drawing lazy circles on her lower stomach. As Hermione felt herself drifting to sleep, the circles became more intense and drifted lower. She felt him harden behind her. She turned over to face him, wrapping her body around his, she began to rock her hips back and forth.
“Hermione,” Draco murmured, “we need to shower.”
“Can’t we use the cleansing charm? I don't want to leave this bed.”
“Tempting. But if you shower with me, I will make it worth your time.” He stood, and she took in his naked form. He was so tall and lean, but not the seekers' build she expected. He filled out with strong, broad shoulders. Looking below his abs she could see he was again hard and ready to go. Hand held out to her, smiling brightly. She had never seen him smile this way. She knew she wouldn’t get enough of it. She gave him her hand and went with him to the enormous bathing room.
It was pristine, white and gleaming. She watched as Draco walked into the shower and turned one of the many knobs. Steam filled the shower and Draco beckoned her into the room with him. Smile still bright on his face, Hermione could do nothing but smile back and follow his request.
“Now, Miss Granger, I believe I told you I’d make this shower worth your time. Turn around,” he commanded, motioning for her to spin. She turned and closed her eyes, trying to actually enjoy the shower for once. She believed Draco would make this good, she trusted him. The thought made her shiver.
A loofa lathered in vanilla scented soap caressed her shoulders and breasts. Draco gently cleaned her back and stomach, rinsing as he went. He turned her toward him and backed her to the far wall, turning yet another knob that let loose a calm waterfall down the wall.
“Sit.” He pointed to the bench on the wall. She sat and looked at Draco as he knelt in front of her. Lifting her right foot, he washed then rinsed it before kissing the arch and placing it down before giving her left foot the same treatment. Once he was finished, he put the loofa on its perch and began to massage her legs. His strong hands kneading her calves, then began making a slow torturous ascent to her thighs. First, the outside then his fingers grazed high inside towards her aching folds, rubbing everywhere but the throbbing nub.
Hermione whimpered, “Please, Draco.”
“I love it when you ask nicely.” Draco said with a smirk. Hermione gasped as Draco leaned down and licked her slit top to bottom, gently sucking on her clit. She had expected his fingers, not his mouth. He continued gently sucking and licking while his fingers trailed heat up and down her legs. Stopping, he looked at her, eyes wild, “You taste like heaven.”
Slowly, he slipped a long finger inside her, hooking to her g-spot. He returned to her clit sucking hard and fast. Hermione had never come so quickly in her life. His fingers continued to hook and draw out her orgasm for what felt like hours. He slowed and stopped, Hermione slumping on the seat she pulled him up for a kiss, tasting her musk in his mouth.
“Now, Miss Granger. It’s my turn.” Draco’s eyes looked mischievous and he quickly lifted her up, slamming her back to the wall under the waterfall shower. Her legs instinctively went around his waist where he was already poised at her entrance. She yanked his hair as he thrust into her, hard and fast, crying out his name. He did not relent, pounding her into the wall, she knew she would be bruised in the morning but she would wear the bruises like badges of honor.
“Come again for me,” Draco breathed, reaching his hand between them. He pinched her bud and she screamed, coming hard and quick again . Draco followed her release and she felt him flood her. He shook from the aftershocks of his orgasm, slowing his thrusts. Stopping, he pulled out of her and let her stand on her own wobbly feet, hands protectively at her hip. She took deep gasping breaths, astonished that the wizard in front of her, the bully of her youth, was what she needed the whole time.
Draco nuzzled against her as they came down from the high of their union. Hermione’s head cleared and she had two quick thoughts: A scourgify would never do the trick again and she now loved showers, so long as Draco was with her. Smiling at the thought, she turned to look into his Mercury eyes.
“Draco?”
“Yes?” He replied, hands brushing up and down her sides, nuzzling her neck.
“I think I love this shower. ”
“Me too, Hermione. Me too.”