The Bird and The Dragon

Draco Malfoy was a miserable bastard. It was a slight decline from being a cocky prat, but four years of war, a dead father and being nothing but a footsoldier in the Dark Lord’s army would do that to a man.

It didn’t matter that he was now the head of the Malfoy family—with all this entailed—or that his manor was still one of the bases of operations because of it’s grandeur, or that he funded Voldemort’s outlandish and increasingly unhinged demands and ideas; he was still not met with the respect and station he should be.

While this would have rankled, it didn’t. Draco was very fine with not arguing, planning, and trying to keep a slew of demented Death Eaters in line like the lieutenants were. It seemed like a nightmare of a job. So even if he hated being met with sneers and condescension, no matter how superior he was to everyone else, he couldn’t be arsed to care. Much. He had other shite to worry about. Things to do, schemes to plot in order to keep his mother and himself alive and their home somewhat standing.

This was one of the reasons he had remained firmly within the vast mediocrity of the Death Eaters, only slightly elevated from the rest, and hated for it. He was yet to prove his worth to the Dark Lord and not living up to his training (if one could call it that) earned him disgusted looks from his master and his deranged aunt many a time. But being the richest man in the wizarding UK, not to mention his family name and lineage, meant they needed him. No matter how much it vexed them. And Draco was terribly good at being vexing, miserable bastard and all that. It was one of the few joys left to him.

It did not mean he appreciated being summoned by his current lieutenant, which had interrupted his dinner and fruitful plans for that very night. One of which involved a bottle of fine firewhisky and a secure flooline to Italy. Another of those few joys left to him.

As Draco swept through the manor, a sneer on his lips, he just knew any and all plans he had would be going up in smoke for this night. It left him in a mood.

He opened the door to one of the smaller studies, his eyes finding Antonin Dolohov behind a way too delicate and florally carved desk for a man his size, a sight that only lifted his spirits for a second.

Draco had put his talent of being vexing to good use and ousted the lieutenants from his father’s former study, relegating them here—whomever was the current leader of his division—much to the lieutenants’ dismay and indignation. But his father’s study was his and his alone, fuck everyone very much.

“You rang,” Draco drawled, adopting a bored expression as he strode across the small room and came to stand in front of the frilly desk.

Dolohov’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t reprimand Draco for his insolence, only shuffled a few papers around, before picking up a thick scroll. His almost black eyes found Draco’s as he stood and a smug grin grew on his thin lips. Not a good sign.

“You are aware of the delegation the Dark Lord is receiving later tonight, are you not?” Dolohov asked.

Draco cocked a brow. “I am.” Of course he bloody was, he had funded the entire thing, not to mention let Voldemort use one of his villas in the Cotswolds for the occasion. The house elves would be busy cleaning for a while, if this was to end as so many of the Dark Lord’s gatherings did. Draco had furtively excused himself from the occasion and was—mainly due to his general attitude and vexing nature—not met with resistance from anyone. He didn’t particularly enjoy the idea of one of his properties being submerged in filth and brutality, but as long as it didn’t happen at the manor, Draco supposed he was grateful. The Dark Lord had expressed wishes of the sort, but he was swayed. If so pressed, Draco could be charming. And the villa had done the rest of the talking for him.

Dolohov’s smirk widened into a grin. He held out the scroll to Draco. “The list for tonight, you’ll be delivering it to Nott.” When Draco barely held back a grimace at the bile rising in his throat, reaching out for the scroll, Dolohov hung onto it until their eyes met. “Personally.”

The urge to grimace was back, but Draco derailed it into a scowl. “There are such things as owls, you know. Terribly convenient to send letters to people not worth laying eyes upon.”

His lieutenant was still grinning. “Come now, Malfoy, Cantankerous may be a pig and borderline insane, but he does have his uses.”

Oh yeah, Nott Sr. had his uses, alright. But the mere fact that a fellow Death Eater like Dolohov called him a pig and borderline insane insinuated that those uses were geared toward people with equally depraved tastes. Tastes Draco did not share.

He took the scroll, his scowl still in place.

“Malfoy, you are to deliver this personally, wait for confirmation, and be pleasant. That’s an order. This list is too important to get lost. Besides, it’s a matter of respect.” Dolohov’s smirk was gone, his gaze piercing and laced with something that gave Draco pause. It was the promise of consequences if he disobeyed. And Dolohov was very creative when it came to those, part of the reason why he held the position and status he did, no matter how incompetent some of his subordinates were. It was what got him results.

Draco held back a scoff. “That sorry excuse for a wizard deserves no respect.”

“Many people would say the same about you,” Dolohov deadpanned. “Now fall from sight and see to your task.”

Draco glared at the gothic building whose highest turrets got lost in the equally dark sky, but which he knew by heart. Merlin, he hated this place. A slew of childhood memories—always starting fun and light, only to end in horror—threatened to breach his composure. Thank Circe Theo was far away from this place. For now.

As he walked up to the winged front door, a house elf popped into existence. The poor creature was missing half an ear (the result of an incident Theo had once told him about, when the elf had stood between him and his father, who’d been in the process of beating him within an inch of his life) and wore a dirty pillowcase with stains on it that could either be dark gravy, wine, or blood. Draco hoped it wasn’t the latter, even while knowing it wasn’t just possible but the most probable.

“Good evening, Dipsy,” he said, not missing the bandaged fingers of the elf’s right hand, nor his hopeful smile.

“Master Draco,” Dipsy squeaked. “I haven’t seen yous in so long. Hows things be doing?” The way he asked, the tip of his good ear vibrating with strained focus and his thin lips pale from pressing them together, told Draco what he was really asking.

“Things are very good, thank you, Dipsy. Everything is proceeding as planned.”

The elf slapped both palms to his mouth to stifle an excited sound, but his large eyes filled with tears. He blinked a few times and breathed deeply, before letting his spindly fingers drop. “That is goods to hear, Master Draco. So, so goods. I will be waitings for your next visits then. Waitings and readys.”

Draco swallowed starkly at the hope shining from the elf’s face and by Salazar, he hoped too. “Soon,” he said, his throat tight. Then he squared his shoulders, time to deliver what he came for. “Where is your master?”

Dipsy shuddered visibly and pointed to the left of the building and what lay behind it. “He be in the stables, Master Draco.”

The bile which hadn’t left him ever since he knew what he would be doing that night rose to his throat and Draco felt a shiver of disgust and dread scuttle down his spine. “Of course he is,” he mumbled, more to himself than to the elf. “Thank you, Dipsy, I’ll find him on my own.”

Dipsy nearly fainted from gratitude and vanished into thin air with a pop after gathering himself and saying goodbye.

Draco rounded the manor and walked along the cobbled courtyard until he came upon a stately annex known as ‘the stables’. Once upon a better Nott, Pegasi had been groomed and bred here, now it was used similarly, but not for animals.

When he brushed by two guards flanking the door, both glaring at him, he answered in kind and entered. His left hand twitched and he had to actively still it from reaching for his wand. Draco had avoided the stables successfully until now and with good reason. What he saw made him want to filet Cantankerous piece by agonising piece.

Apart from being a generally unpleasant person to be around, Nott Sr. had been a horrible father to Theo (if one would even venture so far as to call him one) and Draco hated the man with a vengeance. The sentiment was decidedly mutual.

Nott Sr. was busy shifting his rotund body along rows of people, herded together in a cage off to the left of the entrance.

Most of them were women and very young. All of them wore varying expressions of panic and desolation and not much else. Bare feet shuffled on the concrete floor and shaky hands tried to shield barely covered bodies dressed in scraps of lace and silk.

Guards (most of them either lowly Death Eaters, Snatchers, or hired scum) guffawed and made disgusting comments from the sidelines while they ogled the parade of unwilling flesh.

Cantankerous yanked at a girl, who was dislodged from where she’d clasped the hands of another with a yelp.

“Hold still, you silly bitch,” the man grumbled as he tugged on her blonde hair, then appraised her shivering form as one would an animal at the market.

His stubby fingers grabbed her chin and forced her mouth open, then he patted her cheek a bit too forcefully to be considered gentle, only to run his hands down her body to squeeze and grope here and there.

The poor girl was shaking where she stood, tears running down her face, but she didn’t dare move.

Again, Draco’s hand twitched and he curled his fingers into fists, lest he do something very reckless.

“Nott,” he bit out instead, making a majority of the guards twist and raise their wands at him.

Cantankerous pivoted, his face growing grim when he saw him, but Draco only held up the scroll he’d been given, completely ignoring the wands pointing at him.

“I have the list for tonight. It would be agreeable if you stopped fondling the girl and got over here to receive it. I have places to be.”

Nott Sr. smiled at him, false and oily, but he pushed at the girl, who tumbled back into the outstretched arms of a dark-haired woman that pulled her close and into a hug immediately.

“Malfoy, as always a pleasure,” Nott Sr. drawled as he walked toward him and exited the cage.

“As always, the pleasure is all yours,” Draco muttered, loud enough for the man to hear and he almost felt a ping of mirth when Nott Sr. glowered at him.

The door fell shut with a loud clang and the guards—at ease once they’d recognised Draco—went back to ogling, whistling and throwing out obscenities.

“Still haven’t grown up to show proper respect, I see. As for you having places to be…” Nott tilted his head, coming to a halt before Draco. “I very much doubt it. I heard you’ll not even be part of tonight’s celebrations.” His smarmy grin held the same undertone of loathing it always did when he looked at Draco. “What happened? Disappointed the Dark Lord? Yet again?”

Draco snorted and held out the scroll. It forced Nott Sr. to come closer, a thing the man had avoided in order to not have to raise his head when looking at him. In turn, Draco squared his shoulders and positively loomed, a dark smirk on his lips.

“Not all of us have to grovel at the Dark Lord’s feet, or provide him with party favours, in order to be important. I have more pressing matters to attend to tonight.”

“Always so arrogant, Draco,” Nott Sr. said, taking the scroll from him and stepping back immediately. “One would think that annoying trait would have been culled once daddy dearest bit the business end of the Dark Lord’s wand. Or at least when it became clear that nowhere is safe.”

Draco clenched his fists harder and bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. Yes, his father had miscalculated and paid for it, but so had the Dark Lord, who thought that just because Draco was young, he’d be easier to control than his father. In some cases this was true, but Draco had thoroughly schemed and manipulated to keep his assets his, picking his battles carefully.

He let the first comment wash over him and refused to rise to it, by now he was used to doing so. It was the second jibe he focused on instead.

“If you have something to say, Nott, do so.”

Cantankerous tipped the scroll to his lips, his hazel eyes shining with a cruel satisfaction. It was almost comical how little of Theo was to be found in the man. Where he was tall and lanky, his father was short and stout, only the curls were the same, and the colour of their eyes.

“Did it hurt, boy?” Nott asked, his tone low and saccharine. “I hope it did.” His gaze swept down the length of Draco’s body and back up again. “Alecto was heartbroken when you refused to enjoy her little gift.”

Draco swallowed, rage, disgust and grief married in his chest, making for very disagreeable partners, even as pieces of a puzzle clicked into place for him. “I wouldn’t call it a gift and I should have known it was one of yours.”

He was met with a wide smile. “Ah, pristine quality and fully tested. Best of the best.” Nott had the audacity to wink at Draco.

By now his fists felt as if they’d stay permanently clenched, even as he forced them not to tremble. He built his Occlumency walls tightly around himself, avoiding the memory Cantakerous was to set on dragging forth, and finally felt secure enough to relax his hands.

When Draco neither yelled, nor hexed him, Nott Sr. sighed, obviously having tried to bait him, and waved his meaty hand in the direction of the cage. “I’ll have to go through the list and confirm number and wishes, feel free to browse my stock while you wait.”

“I can wait right here,” Draco said.

“Come now, humour me, boy.” Nott started walking and paused until Draco haltingly closed up to him. “Besides, I wanted to ask; how is my sorry excuse for a son?”

The sudden question nearly did it, a jab of fear pierced him and it would have shown on his face, hadn’t he been occluding already. As it was, Nott was deprived of any reaction he had been waiting for.

Draco gave a non-committal shrug. “How should I know? He’s your son.”

“Hm. I think you know where he is, Draco,” Nott mused and unrolled the scroll. “Tell him to get his arse back where it belongs, will you?”

“Even if I knew where he was, I’d never ask that of him,” Draco said evenly, glaring at Nott Sr.

“Fine.” Sighing, the man finally focused on the scroll, his brows furrowing. “My, my, quite the list today. Lucky we got in a few good ones earlier.” He pointed at one of his guards. “Peasly, line them up. Five in a row. Chop chop.”

The guard grinned and motioned for a colleague to follow him. They weren’t gentle and yells and stumbling feet were the immediate outcome of them stomping in like two foxes into a chicken-coup.

“Oh, keep them quiet, for fucksakes, I’m trying to concentrate here. Oi! Nutter, not the face, or you’ll discover your bollocks up your own arse faster than you can swing you stupid fist.”

It was hard to watch, but Draco firmly kept occluding and was able to look at the prisoners without strangling the man at his side immediately.

Most of them wore a black necklace—broad and reaching their collar-bones—indicating witches and wizards. There were those, however, that had no necklace, signifying Muggles. He couldn’t imagine the shock it must’ve been to be caught by this rabble of wizards, most of them looked beyond traumatised.

Then he felt it. He was being watched, but not in the way that made the hair at his nape stand on end. No, it was more subdued, quieter, but definitely there. He frowned and looked around, only to meet impossibly blue eyes and a stare that sliced right through his walls, cleaving him to the bones of who he was.

The witch stared. And what he saw gave him pause because even though he didn’t know her, her eyes hit him with glaring familiarity. It was shock and recognition, along with something pleading. His lips twitched, on their way to a grimace, as his hands started to shake. It couldn’t be. Impossible.

She turned from him quickly, shielding some of the younger girls from one approaching guard with a fierce curl on her lips. Again, the expression struck him like a curse, but it should be impossible. Her hair was too dark and definitely too straight, not to mention her eye colour was wrong, but the small nose fit, as did the curve of her pillowy lips and inadvertently, his gaze dropped to her arm as she tried to interfere when the guard got too rough with the girl on her right, but she wore see-through gloves reaching all the way to her elbows, complimenting the lacy corset cinching her waist.

It couldn’t be. The necklaces negated magic and if any of them tried to do magic, it would choke them out in the blink of an eye. Draco had seen it.

He obviously couldn’t speak for the rest of her, as he had never seen her in anything flattering, but when her brows knitted together in a very distinct pattern, he nearly lost control of his Occlumency entirely. It was her. He hadn’t seen her close-up since the Battle of Hogwarts, when everything had gone tits-up without solving anything.

How the fuck had she gotten caught? Did anyone know who she was? Circe’s knickers, this was trouble on a level he did not need.

Draco’s throat clicked on a harsh swallow and he contemplated what to do next. Whether he would, or even could, do anything at all.

“See something you fancy, boy?” Nott Sr. purred. “Want to take one of my pretty birds for a spin?” He smirked knowingly, well aware of Draco’s aversion to the practice. It was a jab meant to rile, to nettle, but gods, had it been a mistake on his part.

“You know, actually I do,” Draco said.

Nott Sr.’s face fell for a second, before he grinned again, clearly not believing Draco. He waved his hand at the cage. “Be my guest. Take your pick, boy.”

Draco nodded once and calmly pointed at the blue-eyed witch. “That one.”

She stiffened, close enough to hear his words and her gaze met his. If he still had doubts about her, the disgusted sneer she sent him laid it to rest. He’d know that particular curve on those particular lips anywhere.

She glared, seemingly willing him to spontaneously burst into flames.

Meanwhile, Nott Sr. gaped at him open-mouthed, looking completely derailed. “What is…” He shook his head as if to lose his surprise. “No. Not that one.”

Now it was Draco’s turn to grin. “You offered this. Said I could have my pick. I did.” He cocked a brow. “Are you going back on your word, Nott?”

Nott’s nostrils flared in anger. “I just got her,” he said defensively, as if that would change anything.

Draco slid his hands into his pockets and found his wand, gripping it tightly, in case things were about to escalate. He had made a choice, it was time to follow through.

“And the fact that she is stunning has nothing to do with it, does it?” Draco asked. “Planned to keep her for yourself, like you do others? What would the Dark Lord say if he knew you got first pick and never showed him the best you could be offering?”

A slowly opening and closing mouth, coupled with a glare answered him. “You… That isn’t… Fine!” He flushed red, but waved his hand at one of his guards. “You can have her here and then fuck off.”

Draco flexed his fingers around his wand, sorely tempted to blast the man off his damned feet. “Thank you, but no thank you.” For effect, he let his eyes rove over the witch as she was being manoeuvred through the cage, not saying a word as she fought every step. “I want to savour this and since I’m not an animal, I’ll do so in silk sheets and with good whisky at hand.”

“The manor has rooms,” Nott Sr. gritted out between clenched teeth.

Draco scoffed. “None that fit my standards.”

Nott was not having it. “You do it here, on my grounds, or you don’t get to do it at all,” he hissed, his expression dark. Draco knew he was a second away from escalating things.

Without losing a beat, Draco cast a silent Confundus his way and watched as the dark expression dissipated. “Don’t tell me you are about to put limitations on your generous offer,” he drawled. “That just wouldn’t be right, don’t you agree?”

Nott blinked, shook his head and frowned. “No, I… Fine.”

“If you’re done with the list, I will take my...bird and be off,” Draco interrupted him as the guard shoved her out of the cage and straight at him. She was busy alternating between throwing blistering glowers at him and worried looks at the prisoners she was about to leave.

“List… Yes, I will manage,” Nott mumbled, glancing at the scroll, still looking confused. It was time to haul arse before the man came to his senses.

“Splendid, we’ll be off then.” Draco closed his hand around her upper arm, sending her a warning look, hoping against hope she wouldn’t fight and just act along. Of course, that was like hoping Snape started stand-up comedy.

She gasped in outrage and pulled on his hold, clearly disgusted, even as she kept quiet. This was unusual, Draco had never known the witch to be silent. This led Draco to come to a conclusion; she had no idea he knew who she was and thought her voice would give her away to him.

“Malfoy,” Cantankerous said in a warning tone, the threads of confusion slowly leaving him. “I’ll want her back.”

Draco uttered a non-committal hum. “Always a displeasure. Have the night you deserve, Nott.” With that, he tucked her into his side and ignored the jabs from her sharp elbows. She continued fighting him every step, her gaze frantically flying back to the other prisoners.

“If you don’t want me to throw you over my shoulder, behave, bird,” he hissed as they closed in on the door. He did not have the time to coddle her. Nott would soon come to his senses and the man would know. Draco didn’t plan on lingering to find out what he would do then.

The look she gave him could have killed and he saw the insults she was dying to shout his way dance in her eyes, even as they were halted by the iron clench she apparently held on her jaw. She did stop resisting, however and Draco quickly walked them out of the stables and across the courtyard.

With every second it took to get away, his nerves flared and his steps got faster. They needed to hurry. When her naked feet stumbled on the cold stones for the third time, Draco cursed. Glancing back he cursed again, seeing three guards slip from the stables and coming their way in a jog.

Draco gritted his teeth and bent over, lifting her up without losing a step.

As she folded against his chest, a low squeak left her and those impossibly blue eyes—too pale for her face—found him, conveying a mix of confusion and outrage. Her entire body was shivering, goosebumps pebbled underneath his palms and even as he sped up, he felt her shift ever so slightly to press to him. It was surely involuntary, but he felt it. She was almost nestled to him now.

Draco thought nothing of it, hearing the guards call after him. He was careful not to hasten his steps any further, lest it looked like he was actually running away. Finally, the wards hummed against his skin and then they were through. Quick as a thought he Apparated them both away.

The second they landed in his room, Draco let her slide down and stepped back. She immediately shuffled away from him as far as the space allowed, hugging herself to either shield herself from his view, or because she was cold. Draco didn’t really care which. He shrugged from his black cloak and held it out. When he was only met with a suspicious glare he threw it on a chair close to her. Her gaze went from him to his coat and then back, before she snatched it up and drew it around her shoulders, effectively drowning in the fabric.

Draco sighed, letting go of his Occlumency walls as he strolled past her and poured two drinks from a tray carrying decanters and tumblers. “Want one?” he asked, lifting one tumbler to his lips and taking a sip. The reproachful look he received was answer enough. “Suit yourself.” He shrugged, drained the expensive whisky and started in on the second glass, while holding her gaze.

By now, Draco was pretty certain of it, but he needed to make sure. “Do any of them know who you really are, Granger?” he asked and watched her flinch, eyes widening.

Her throat worked as she swallowed and her gaze turned from angry to panicked. “You… You knew?”

“This might come as a surprise to you, but I’m not generally in the habit of risking my life to nab just any bird from Cantankerous. Of course I knew.” He took another sip, this one slow. Fuck, what was he supposed to do now? In the safety of his own home, his actions caught up with him and without his walls, a slice of panic cut into him. He had Hermione fucking Granger in his room. The Dark Lord would kiss his feet if he brought her before him. And then he would use and ultimately kill her. Good thing Draco carried no notion toward such an endeavour. But what to do? He couldn’t just let her go like this either. She was without a wand and...practically naked. This needed some careful consideration. It was a headache he could have definitely done without.

“Excuse me for not falling over in gratitude,” Granger snapped, ripping him from his musings. “I know why you brought me here. You want to be the one to serve me up to your master, don’t you? And…” Her lower lip folded into her mouth and she bit down, forcefully keeping what she was about to say at bay.

“Finish that thought, Granger,” Draco said, leaning back against the sideboard and sipping his drink casually.

“I’d rather not.” She shook her hair in indignation, the way he had seen her do countless times. It looked off, though, as the effect it usually had on her curls wasn’t there. It nettled at something in him.

“What will happen to the others?” she asked and Draco scowled into his drink. He’d rather not know, but sadly he did and the way she looked at him demanded truth.

“The Dark Lord is throwing a party tonight. They will probably entertain. After that, I can’t say.”

Her breath hitched and her face fell. “I see.” Granger looked at the floor and her shoulders curled forward. “Fuck. I can’t… Fuck!”

There was nothing to be done about it so it seemed redundant to say so.

Draco gave her a moment to gather herself, then placed his glass down, still half-full. “Alright.” First things first. He plucked out his wand. “Turn around, Granger.”

Her blue eyes zeroed in on his wand then flew up to his. “What are you doing?” She asked the question in her swottiest voice, but it wavered slightly, betraying nerves. Draco was a bit surprised when it didn’t fill him with glee to see her succumb to them.

He was in front of her in a few steps. “Turn around,” he repeated, more softly, but with a definite command.

Her throat bobbed and Draco reached for her shoulders, turning her bodily away from him before he tugged at the collar of his coat to uncover her neck.

Granger struggled from his grip and pivoted, her expression grim, showing hints of panic she was clearly trying to suppress. “I asked; what the fuck are you doing, Malfoy?”

“Calm down, Granger,” he sneered. “Do you want to get rid of that necklace or not?”

Her fingers flew up to the black band and she tugged at it, her eyes widening in shock, but his words clearly made something in her brain click, because she turned and even lowered the cloak to her naked shoulders, before swiping her infuriatingly wrong hair to the side so he had access to the nape of her neck. Her shoulders shook, whether from cold, or from apprehension, Draco could only guess.

He tapped his wand to her necklace and uttered a series of complicated spells, his brows drawing together in concentration. Slowly, the magic on the piece of metal lifted and with a swift cut, he broke it apart. The necklace fell from Granger’s neck, vanishing in his cloak. When she shifted to face him again, the broken collar fell to the floor with a dull clink.

He could see her contemplating her next move, now that her magic was back. Without a wand, she had limits, but she had always been annoyingly clever, so he stepped back again, returning to his drink. The moment he turned his back, he heard her bolt. Smirking, he turned around to find her halfway to the door, but then she abruptly stopped, her face a mix of frustration and fear.

“Noticed your mistake, have you?” Draco drawled and picked up his drink. “You can’t escape, Granger. Even if you got hold of my wand, the wards won’t let you Apparate without me. Outside this door, the place is crawling with a division of Death Eaters, more dangerous than me. At least when it comes to half-dressed women that try to run from them. Oh, and I believe we have a few werewolves on the grounds. Besides,” he took a sip, frowning when she shuddered and scratched at her arms. “It won’t be necessary.”

Her shoulders rose and sank and she turned around. “What is that supposed to mean?” The slight tremor in her voice betrayed her fear, even if her eyes stayed calculating, flicking through the room and lingering here and there before returning to him.

“I do not plan on keeping you, or giving you back to Nott.”

“What then? You’ll have your fun and then throw me to him?” Again, she scratched at her arms, it tickled at something in the back of his brain, but Draco ignored it.

“I know you think very little of me, Granger, but I generally don’t ‘have my fun’ with women who hate me and whom I don’t much care for in return. Besides, forcing myself on anyone has never held any appeal to me.” The look she gave him made him snort out a most undignified sound. “I know, how terribly un-Death-Eater-like of me.”

“Then what exactly is your plan here?” she asked, her shoulder twitching before she scratched at it.

“I’m thinking,” he said. “I didn’t plan on stumbling across you tonight, you know.”

“Oh, this I can’t bloody wait to hear,” she hissed as she started to pace. It looked odd, almost like a compulsion to move. “Draco Malfoy thinking, what a novelty.”

“I would shut it, if I were you. Insulting the person who holds your fate in their hands is generally not a good idea.”

She threw him a haughty sniff, but didn’t say anything more.

A moment of heavy silence passed between them, one in which Draco steadily sipped his drink and Granger continued her pacing, throwing glances at him with something so Grangerly calculating, that he wondered how he could have ever question whether it was really her. Still, he was continuously thrown off by her wrong eyes and hair. It bothered him. Terribly.

Draco scoffed inwardly, reprimanding himself for even thinking about it, he had other things to consider.

Granger seemed to have come to a conclusion of her own, as she scratched at her neck and took in a long breath. “If you let me go, I promise not to kill you the next time we meet and I’ll tell the others what you did for me.”

He smirked into his tumbler. “What makes you think I’d want, or need, your vote of confidence?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Malfoy,” she snapped. “Maybe you want to continue living after we win the war.”

“How presumptuous of you.” He grinned at her and she snarled back, her pacing taking her further into to the room and closer to him.

“You are deranged.”

Draco nodded absently. “Possibly.”

“Well, can’t say I care. What do you want then? In return for letting me go?”

“Nothing, Granger. I was plann—” The words got stuck in his throat. The admission that he planned to let her go, but had to think on how and where first. Offers of having her change into something warmer and with more general coverage, or even a shower if she was so inclined, she had seemed frozen to the bones. But she was busy scratching at both her arms now and something very cold and terrifying slid into his chest.

“Fuck. Granger, did you eat or drink anything while they had you?”

Her nose lifted in defiance, even as she bent forward, nearly stumbling in her pacing to scratch at her legs. “I don’t see what—”

“Answer the fucking question, Granger. Yes or no?” Draco set the glass down where it clanked against others loudly, but he didn’t care as he stalked across the room.

Her throat bobbed. “They gave us water.”

“When?”

“I don’t… A few minutes before you came.” Brows furrowed, she hissed and twitched, billowing out his cloak as if to fan air to her body. “Why did you—” She cut herself off and paled. “What did they give us? My skin is prickling like crazy and it’s...hot. I was freezing a moment ago.”

“Granger. Fuck, I’m sorry.” He swallowed. “I can’t let you go like this.”

She looked confused, trying to parse together what he meant. “Like this? You’d let me go?”

“That’s not important right now. They gave you a lust potion. Extremely strong. It has no antidote as far as I know. Nott brewed and perfected it himself, he’s the only one that knows what’s in it.”

Her throat clicked on a swallow and she stepped back from him. “Lust potion? Are you...sure?”

“Positive.” Bloody hell, this complicated things immensely.

“All the more reason to let me go, then,” she said.

“Do you have someone?” Draco asked, scrutinising her closely. “Like a boyfriend? Someone you shag regularly, or even once in a blue moon, doesn’t matter.” The pacing had stopped and she wasn’t scratching herself anymore. But she was glowering at him, an incredulous tilt to her brows.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business, Malfoy.”

“Just answer me, witch.” His words snapped from him like thunder and she blinked.

“No, I don’t. Ron and I broke up half a year ago. I haven’t… since.” Granger blushed, then her lips thinned. “Why the hell would you ask such a thing?”

“Do you have anyone you could ask, who would shag you in a heartbeat?”

Please say yes, he thought. But she blushed some more and shook her head, looking mortified. Draco was sure that wasn’t true, Granger was a very pretty woman, but maybe she didn’t feel comfortable enough with any of her fellow Order idiots. What a shame. If you couldn’t ask a friend to shag you in a pinch, were you even friends?

“Why would you ask such a thing?” she asked again, this time quieter, her voice shaking.

“Because there is no antidote, Granger. If you don’t get laid, or at least come by someone else’s hands very soon, you’ll be in a world of pain. I know because I have lived it. This is no laughing matter.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Forget headache, this situation had just turned from complicated to fucking impossible. He shouldn’t care. He should Apparate her somewhere and let her deal with it. Yet… As the memories from that time came to him, of how his body had strained and convulsed, pounded by pain and arousal he couldn’t do anything about, he did care. It had been excruciating and he had dealt with it for days after.

“Right,” he mumbled to himself and nodded. “Right. Here is what’s going to happen. You have a choice to make. You can either ride it out, which will be uncomfortable to say the least. It will hurt, it will burn and you will wish you were dying.” He tried to convey how serious it was with a look. “But I swear you’ll be safe here for the time it takes. And I’ll take you wherever you want to go once it’s over.”

Granger looked stunned, before her nails sank into her scalp and she grimaced, scratching. “Or?” A huff of incredulous laughter escaped her. “No. No way. You can’t be suggesting… Absolutely not.”

Draco shrugged. “It’s your decision, Granger. All I’m doing is offering.”

“You don’t even like me and what is more, I neither like nor trust you.” She groaned, picking up her pacing once more. “Bloody hell. Why won’t it stop itching?”

“I don’t have to like you, in order to help. And the itching will soon pass. Then the burn will pick up.” He watched her round on him, wide-eyed, her features conveying something between fear and complete irritation.

Draco motioned to the door of his en-suite. “Cold water helps. If you choose option one, I’d start there.”

“Of fucking course I choose option one, you delusional bonehead!” she shrieked.

He nodded, having expected it. “Then the bathroom is all yours, Granger. Just don’t try to touch yourself, you’ll not like what happens if you do.”

Granger stormed off, jittery by now. The door slammed shut and he heard the lock click. Draco sighed, pouring himself more whisky. He knew she’d be out again. He knew because at one point, he would have begged for someone—anyone—to help him. And he wouldn’t have cared who it was. Which was exactly what the potion was designed for. Utter humiliation that fed into the delusions of the person who was looking to get a good fuck, no matter the consent.

As he heard water running, he sat down in one of his wing-back chairs, waiting for the inevitable, simultaneously trying to come to terms with it.

He didn’t want to be in this situation, didn’t want any part of it, but he fucking knew how awful it would get.

Having lived it, he’d wished someone had offered him release (quite literally) and if he could help he would. His emotions had a bit of trouble connecting with his decision. This was Hermione Granger, someone who he knew hated him and someone he had never cared for.

Draco drank in slow sips, determined to stick to his decision. He would make it quick and clinical, yes, that would be best

Not that he knew what exactly was needed. When Alecto Carrow had doused his wine at a party a few months back and Draco had only escaped her perverted clutches because his refined palate had noticed the watered-down taste. He was naturally suspicious of every single Death Eater, so he had Apparated home immediately. That also meant he had been very much alone when the potion effects hit.

Not even five minutes into his silent vigil Draco felt the wards of his wing shudder. It wasn’t a warning so much as it was an acknowledgement. Someone familiar was coming his way. Alone.

Draco sighed and leaned back. He sent a neat little spell at the bathroom door, silencing his side but letting the noise inside filter out. Then he cleared his mind and built walls. His Occlumency was ready when the door burst open and Dolohov sailed through like an obnoxiously large bat on a mission. It almost reminded Draco of Snape. All billowing robes and pinched face.

“What the fuck about ‘behave yourself’ don’t you understand?” Dolohov fumed, coming to a stop not far from Draco’s chair. His wand was clenched in his hand firmly.

Draco raised a brow at the man, aiming for mildly interested and surprised. “I have no idea what you mean. I did exactly what I was tasked with.”

“You stole a girl from Nott and then hexed him!” Dolohov yelled, developing irregular red patches on his cheeks.

“I did no such thing,” Draco said. “Nott offered me one of his birds. He even told me to take my pick. When I did he tried making me fuck her in his filthy excuse for an estate. I simply declined. I prefer to not get mould on my cock if I can avoid it.”

Dolohov simmered down a tad, then peered down at Draco suspiciously. “He sent me an owl, furious, telling me you hexed him and stole one of his girls. He truly offered one to you?”

Draco nodded slowly. “Imagine that. Owls do work.”

Dolohov waved him off. “Don’t get sassy with me, Malfoy. What about the hexing part?”

“Well, I had already picked a woman and when I made it clear I had no intention of soiling my arse in Nott’s dirty sheets, he tried to retract his offer. It was quite embarrassing really. So I confounded him. One can barely even call that a hex. Besides, good behaved little owls do deserve their treats.”

Dolohov blinked, clearly taken aback. “I see. If he offered, then I don’t see the problem. Where is she?”

Draco motioned at the en-suite door where the sounds of running water emanated from. “She’s quite pretty, but I have no idea whose cock has been in her, or in what other way she’d been soiled before I took her here, so I made her wash up.”

“Sensible. Bring her back as soon as you’re done, though,” Dolohov said with an air of terseness.

“We shall see,” Draco murmured, twisting his lips into a dark smile.

“Malfoy.” The tone was a clear warning but Draco only grinned broader.

“If she survives the night, I will absolutely take her back.”

Dolohov’s lips twitched, then he looked at the bathroom door and back, his own smirk in place. “Surprising, but excellent nonetheless. The Dark Lord will be proud to hear you have finally taken part in some sport.” He winked. “Perhaps we’ll make a decent Death Eater of you yet.”

“I do strive to serve as best I can.”

“Just...pay Nott, will you? Even if you bring her back bruised, or I won’t hear the end of it.”

“Consider it done,” Draco said. “Now leave, I have a long night ahead of me.”

Dolohov looked at him with something sickly close to pride and Draco wanted to vomit into his hearth, but he stayed still, grin in place, until his lieutenant left the room with long strides and billowing robes.

It took longer than he anticipated, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. Granger had an iron will, much more so than he did. Eventually, though, the water stopped, swapped for soft sounds of whimpers and groans. Then a sharp whine filtered through the door and he clenched his teeth. Steps shuffled to the door, then away from it. Another groan, another whimper. This repeated for a few minutes and he could only imagine the thoughts running through her head right now. How she knew she had no choice, but still stubbornly tried to make one.

The door opened and there she was, wrapped in a towel, drops of water still clinging to her. He breathed out sharply when her eyes met his, brown—as they should be—and filled with agony and something heated.

Granger looked at him as if he was her last meal before execution and he could relate. Had anyone been around when this had happened to him, he would have looked at them the same. Yet, even though he knew it was due to the potion it tugged at something deeply buried within him. It was strange seeing her look at him with anything other than disgust or animosity.

“I...ahhh,” she groaned, her brows furrowing and her knees knocking together. “I think if you still… Do you still… Gods, it hurts.” Her cheeks flushed bright crimson and she hobbled from the bath, hissing in pain. “I can’t…make it stop,” she said, her voice breaking as her lower lip trembled. “Please. I need… I can’t bear it.”

Draco could have been an arse and teased her, but he fucking knew that agony, so he didn’t. “I haven’t changed my mind, Granger. If you want my help, I’ll give it.”

She blew out a breath through puffed-up cheeks and the knuckles on her hand whitened where she gripped the towel tightly. “I don’t...want. But I need…” Granger doubled over and a pained sound sang from her.

Draco gripped the armrests on either side of him. “I know you don’t want this, Granger, and trust me, neither do I. The situation is both awkward and shite, but—”

Her laugh, almost hysterical, interrupted him and she straightened to look at him. “Is it...cruel of me to say...I’d rather...you did want it?”

“No. I’d rather we both did.” He stood from his chair, making sure his movement wasn’t too fast. “I’ll do everything I can to take away the pain. Promise.”

Her gaze softened and he was once more hit with that tugging sensation. “Alright.” She looked around the room, seemingly unsure before her eyes landed on his four-poster bed. “Maybe if you could just...get me...off?”

“Whatever it takes,” Draco said and walked toward his bed, hearing her shuffle behind him. Merlin, he hoped that was all it would take. He stopped at the side of his bed and waited.

Granger stepped up next to him, very close and when she looked up, he could see the conflict clear in her coffee-coloured eyes. “This doesn’t mean—”

“I know, Granger. I also promise not to read anything into it.” He sighed, tilting his head back to flee her gaze and the situation itself. For a second, he stared at the ceiling, then released a breath and dropped his head to ask what he needed to.

“Clothes on or off? Fingers or mouth?”

She stared at him for a beat and he grunted at the discomfort. “I wanted to make sure to only do what you want...err need.”

“Subtle, Malfoy,” she huffed out. “Clothes stay...on. Fingers only. And hurry. Please.”

He pulled off his shoes and socks while she clambered onto the bed, her limbs looking stiff and her movements jerky.

Granger hissed and winced as she gingerly lay down in the middle of the bed, waiting for him.

Draco nodded once to himself and got in beside her, sitting up against his headboard. “You can lose the towel if you want, I know it has to be uncomfortable on your skin by now.”

Her throat worked and she fisted the edge of the fluffy fabric, seemingly contemplating. “I don’t think…” Her chest rose and fell in rapid breaths and she bit her lip. A small whimper floated from her and Draco bet she had stifled the sound as much as was possible.

“Or don’t. Whatever makes you more comfortable. You can—”

“Wait,” she said with a strained voice. Granger squeezed her lids shut and Draco knew she was fighting off a wave of pain. He waited, watching her as she fought it, remembering the feeling of burning from the inside out. The waves would grow shorter, until there was no time of reprieve.

Her body seized up like a clenched fist, every muscle engaged as she shook and moaned. Knuckles white and legs shaking, she fought through her pain. The moans grew into cries and Draco hated sitting there, not wanting to do anything she hadn’t agreed to, but also needing to help. But she’d told him to wait.

She gasped and shook her head. “Bloody… Fuck!” Her body sank in on itself as she relaxed and breathed harshly. “Alright. Need to… Yes. Where do you...want me?” she asked lowly, still out of breath.

With a flick of his hand, the lights dimmed until—under the shadows of the bed’s canopy—it would be harder to make things out. “Maybe place your lap on mine and lie back to the side? That way I would have the best access.” He screwed his eyes shut at the sound of it, but there was neither time nor room for nerves. He had made an offer, a promise, and that was that.

“Alright,” Granger said again and shifted. Her toned legs slid over his lap, until she was able to lift her arse and place it exactly where he’d suggested. Draco widened his legs so she could settle more comfortably, feeling how hot her skin was through his pants. She lay flat on her back, her torso forming a ninety degree angle to his body. It was a bit awkward as they both shifted around until it worked and their legs fell into place.

“Do you need a pillow?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Do you—”

“Malfoy. Please get on with it.”

“Right. Sorry. I’ll just...yeah.” He lifted his right hand and gently placed it on her thigh, next to the very edge of her towel. Her skin was scorching and immediately goosebumps greeted his palm.

She jumped under his touch, then her back arched and she let out a low moan. “Oh my… That already feels amazing.”

His throat went dry. The way she had arched up drew his gaze firmly to her body and… Fuck. Even in the semi-dark he could tell she was fucking glorious. The towel didn’t hide all that much. Draco had seen how she had changed over the past years back at the stables. As much as he had turned into a man, she had become a woman. He had not lied calling her stunning, but noticing it and having her writhing in his lap, practically naked, were two very different things.

Her legs scissored, seeking friction and she let go of the towel. The way she wriggled immediately had the ends of it fall down, exposing the length of her. Her chest heaved, drawing his gaze along her generous hips and soft belly, to a pair of spectacular tits. Dark tipped and just the right size for a handful.

He blinked and reached for the towel, to place it back, but she shook her head frantically.

“Leave it. You’re…right. Better without.” She swiped at where the fabric still covered her thighs and it brushed past his hand.

Draco averted his eyes as best he could, cursing this day, the war, and anything in between. He forced himself to focus on his task. Stroking circles along her skin, he let his fingers wander up, apprehensive to just...invade, for lack of a better word.

“Spread your legs a bit,” Draco murmured, when he finally reached the right height on her thigh.

Immediately, her legs dropped open and he cursed lowly. Bloody hell, seeing her presented to him like this was… Well, it was doing something to him it definitely shouldn’t and Draco clenched his jaw and thought of Voldemort’s naked toes. A sure-fire way to stay flaccid, if he’d ever known one.

But then his fingers dipped past coarse curls and parted her lips. Heat, drenched and silken. Swollen and ready. Begging for attention.

Granger whined as she arched once more, her fists grabbing hold of his blanket. “Oh… Gods…”

Draco let two fingers slide through her heat, rounded her entrance twice, only to gather her desire and swipe it up. Slowly and with gentle pressure, he circled her clit.

She nearly bounded off the bed, then choked out a sob. “I… yes! More!”

He tried a faster movement, but she shook her head frantically from side to side, so he slowed down again and just added pressure, tightening the circles. There was no helping it. Draco zeroed in on her reactions, cataloguing every moan and shiver, every furrow of her brows and bite to her lips, every arch and undulation to chase what felt good to her, with relentless focus. While doing so, he watched in rapture as she trembled and shimmied, relished every sweet sound breaking from her lips—now void of pain and filled with need—and he was simply unable to stay as unaffected as he wanted. As he should. This wasn’t clinical, not even close. For a second, Draco debated occluding, but his focus had already locked on her so firmly and completely, that the notion faded as fast as it had come.

Try as he might, his cock twitched, growing fast under her soft arse and Draco shifted, adamant to hide what she was doing to him. But when his fingers found the exact rhythm that made her keen and cant her hips into his touch—an almost languid up and down stroke with ample pressure—she slid closer, bumping her arse directly into his hard cock.

Draco hissed and for a second, Granger stilled, but then she slowly gave a twitch to her hips, as if coaxing him to keep moving and he did.

Granger pulled at his blanket while her head fell back and she moaned out a low and guttural sound that had him twitching against her arse.

“Yes! Just like… Fucking brilliant. I’m...close…” A long whine trembled through the air and Draco kept his movements exactly the same, his mouth dry as he watched.

Even in the sparse light he could see the blush covering her cheeks and bleeding down her neck. Her brows drew together, making a line appear between them and her eyes stayed firmly closed as her mouth fell open.

He was completely incapable of looking away. Not when her entire body bowed off the bed, not when her wrists twisted in the blanket, or when her legs closed, lodging his hand firmly in place, and definitely not when she shook and cried out, her face set into something so ravishingly beautiful that he almost felt it.

A moan fought for space in his throat and he only barely suppressed it, feeling a bout of pre-cum leak from his cock as he stared in rapture at her coming. The sounds she made reverberated through him and the way she trembled and writhed… It had him on the very edge of his own control.

Salazar, Granger was effervescent in her ecstasy. Absolutely enthralling.

He had no idea how long her orgasm lasted, but she finally slumped back into his lap, little jerks and shivers randomly gripping her as her legs fell open and her hands unfurled.

Slowly, Granger blinked her eyes open and they found him. She gasped, catching her breath. “Fucking hell. That was amazing.”

Draco didn’t trust his voice, knowing that nothing he said could even begin to describe what he had witnessed. “I’m glad,” he finally pressed out, slowly pulling his hand free. His fingers were glistening and Draco was dearly tempted to lick them. To get a taste. But that was definitely going too far.

Her chest rose and fell on a huge breath and for a second Granger looked completely relaxed, then she wriggled her butt in his lap eliciting a low hiss before he could help it.

“I...apologise, Granger,” Draco said. “Please ignore—”

Her palm landed on his lower arm, silencing him. It was a barely-there touch. Tentative and light. “Don’t apologise. It’s…” She nibbled on her lower lip blushing a bit brighter. “It actually helped me getting there.” Her eyes met his. Dark and bottomless, like a pool of burned honey. “Knowing you are affected and not just going through motions was a huge turn on.” She rolled her eyes. “Not that I needed it—bloody potion—but it helped me feel like I wasn’t alone in this.”

“Not to overstep, or anything, but watching you come, to hear it, was the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

Her hand on his arm squeezed softly and a small smile stretched on her pretty lips. It jolted something to life inside Draco. A very dusty room somewhere in his mind was suddenly thrown wide open. The cobwebbed darkness gave way to fresh air and light. Heavy furniture was shifted and thrown out, replaced by emptiness and air. Hermione Granger was smiling at him. Honest-to-Merlin smiling. And it fucking floored him.

Before Draco could process what exactly he was feeling, or what had just happened, her brows snapped together and she gasped. Her fingers clenched, digging into his arm and her legs started to scissor. Her face twisted into genuine agony as her body curled to the side and in on itself, until her knees touched his side and her forehead bumped against his elbow.

“Oh gods, it’s back,” she rasped. “The burn. It—fuck—it’s even worse than before.” She strained and shook, moaning in pain. “Why is it worse?”

Draco had no idea. Truth be told, he knew nothing about how to make the burning stop for good. Well, short of actually shagging, that was, and he was pretty sure she’d absolutely not want to. “Maybe you need more than one orgasm?” he suggested, his free hand hovering over her helplessly, not touching.

“M-maybe,” she croaked out. “But my… Ahhh! Godric’s nuts, it hurts. I feel a burning inside, like…” She huffed out a few harsh breaths, her face red as she turned it up to look at him. Still, her one hand was gripping his arm so hard, Draco knew it would likely bruise. He didn’t care.

“Would you try a-again? But perhaps...I need…” Granger groaned as her body hardened and her face sank into his side once more.

Draco swallowed at the lump in his throat, guessing to what she had been meaning to ask. “I’ll try again, Granger,” he said. “As many times as it takes. Would you…” His hovering hand clenched into a fist. “Would you want me to try with my fingers inside?”

“Oh gods, yes! Please.”

She whimpered when his hand landed on her thigh but the way she was positioned didn’t allow for any access whatsoever.

“Your touch is like cooling ice.” She didn’t move. “So good, so…”

“Granger, can you turn back and open for me?” Draco asked, his voice rough. He was still hard as a rock, which was slightly disturbing since he felt for her pain, but she was also very naked and curled around him. The duality of what he was feeling confused him immensely.

Her fingers flexed on his arm. “I don’t think so. Just...move me. Whatever you have to do, just make it...stop.”

Draco tried to wedge his hand between her straining legs but he had no leverage and she was clammed up, whimpering and gasping. He stilled and just stroked her legs and hip for a few seconds in a soothing motion, thinking on how the bloody hell he was going to go about this.

Then he scooped her off his lap and slid from the bed to kneel at it’s side. He grabbed hold of her hips and pulled her across the bed and toward him, then positioned her on her back and opened her legs to him, wedging his torso between her knees to keep them apart.

Granger yelped, but did not protest, she hissed at his hands running up her thighs to spread them, her eyes dark and lost in a haze as she looked at him. Draco blew out a steadying breath and gently cupped her. Fuck, she was hot and slick, her entire body radiating heat, as if she was in the throes of a fever.

A mewling noise sailed his way in answer to his fingers dipping and swirling through her lips, then she groaned when he slowly slid a finger inside.

“Salazar, you’re tight,” Draco huffed out, but it got drowned out in a keen from her. He let his thumb run over her clit in that up and down motion she favoured and for a moment the madness of knowing what Hermione Granger favoured being done to her sank into his mind. It was bloody bizarre.

“You alright?” he asked and she bucked against his hand.

“I… More.”

“You need another finger?”

“Y-yes. More.”

Draco worked in a second finger, feeling her cunt flutter and clench down around his digits and his own moan at the feeling mixed with hers.

“Gods, yes! Just like...that!”

She was so swollen and tight that he could barely open his fingers. He briefly wondered if he would even fit inside—

Shaking his head to dispel the very thought, he focused on the way her hips canted and how her breathing grew faster. But his cock had not gotten the message that nothing of the sort was happening and leaked a bout of pre-cum where it was squashed between his body and the bed.

In that moment, Granger’s legs cramped up and threatened to close. She wailed and Draco sank lower, to place his shoulders in the way and rest his left arm in such a way he was keeping her open to him. This had the unfortunate effect that his face was now very close to her pretty cunt and all rational thought left his brain for a second.

He watched his fingers slide and curl in and out of her wet heat, followed how his thumb kept stroking her clit and saw her body bowing and twisting, even if he had her in a tight grip. Draco licked his lips, wanting—needing—a taste of what he could see and smell. It was heady and his body leaned forward of it’s own accord. His heart slammed against his ribcage and the sounds she made nearly made him forget himself.

“Granger, can I taste you?” The words rushed from him unbidden. Truth and need.

His gaze rose, finding hers and she panted. Her hands closed around his arm, the one he was using to hold er in place. Her nails pricked his skin in tiny, burning slices.

“Can I put my mouth on you?” he asked, helpless to his own desire.

“If you...want,” she gasped out. “Yes.”

Draco didn’t confirm that he indeed wanted very much, he just closed the gap, replacing his thumb with his lips. His first long and desperate lick—from where his fingers fucked her, all the way up to her clit—had him groaning and her keening.

He lapped at her with fervour, delighted with how she moaned and whimpered, and how her cunt clenched down on him in answer. “Fuck, Granger, your pretty cunt is delicious.” Draco moaned as his mouth closed around her clit to suck and flick his tongue up and down.

A guttural yell came from her and she undulated against him. “Oh...oh! Oh my fucking…” Her words got lost in a drawn-out moan that Draco mirrored.

On any other given day, in a situation that wasn’t as fucked-up as this one, Draco would have taken his time to eat her out for as long as he wished, but he knew it was neither about him, nor would it help with her pain if he stretched this out. So he set to task, keeping a generous suction on her, letting his tongue stroke her just the way she liked it, while syncing his fingers to the movement, rubbing at the spongy spot on the front of her wall.

Hands sank into his hair and tugged, eliciting a moan from him. Then she went rigid for a second. “Malfoy, I’m… I’m…”

Draco didn’t change a thing and for a few heartbeats all he could hear was the absence of her breath as she held it and the obscene sounds his fingers made. Then she snapped. Granger cried out and started to shake and convulse, her cunt gripping and squeezing his fingers in beautiful waves, even as her hips rose with a sharp move that almost threw him off. Doubling the strength of his grip on her, he held on, flicking his tongue and curling his fingers just the same as before, relishing how absolutely glorious her orgasm was to witness.

His cock twitched every time her nails sank into his scalp, every sound of her ecstasy sent shivers to spark across his skin, and the way she moved—trembling and shaking under the onslaught—had him desperate to make it last as long as possible.

When her body finally slumped down and the waves fluttering around his fingers tapered out, Draco gently slid them out to lick them clean. “Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes closing at the taste. He placed his palms to the inside of her thighs to hold her, then used his thumbs to gingerly open her folds. “You have a fucking stunning cunt, Granger,” Draco told her. He was helpless not to surge forward and take another taste.

She whimpered, her hands in his hair stroking him as his tongue dragged through her desire in long, broad licks. He was careful to avoid her clit in order to not overwhelm her, but gods, he couldn’t get enough of her.

“That feels so good,” she said in a throaty voice. “Soothing.”

Draco chuckled and then continued with gentle licks. “Don’t say things like that unless you want me to spend the rest of the night right here, doing nothing but this.”

Her fingers carded through his hair in almost loving caresses and he inwardly shuddered with pleasure. No one had touched him like this in a long time. With something close to warmth and affection. She might not have meant it that way and maybe it was nothing other than a casual movement on her part, but it felt deliberate to him. Or perhaps he simply wished it so.

“I might let you,” Granger whispered so softly, he thought for a second he’d imagined it. But when their eyes met, she regarded him with an open vulnerability that started to fill the recently evacuated room in his mind. New colour grew along the formerly barren walls, bright, making the space seem larger.

Draco blinked, not knowing what to do with her looking at him like that. As if she wasn’t hating him. As if she...trusted him.

Giving a last and parting lick, Draco then kissed alongside the inside of her left thigh, holding her gaze while stroking his palms along the outsides of her legs, all the way up to her knees and then down to her hips. He knew he should stop, knew he had no right to touch and kiss her like this, but she didn’t say anything and he simply couldn’t cease. Granger was satin softness under his fingers, his lips. She was absolute fucking perfection. Draco forcibly swallowed down the words tangling on his tongue, wanting to tell her as much.

A sick little part of him hoped this wasn’t over and he would get to watch, to feel, to make her come apart again. But another part of him had hated seeing her in pain. It wasn’t just the memory of his own experience, but something else. Pity? No, something more honest, something deeper, more substantial. Empathy maybe, even if Draco was unsure when he had developed such a thing, especially when it came to her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Hot,” Granger said. “I don’t think it’s over. But please, don’t…” She bit her lip, her dark eyes fleeing him.

“Please don’t what, Granger?” He hooked his palm around her calf to prop up her leg and continued to languidly kiss down her thigh until reaching the inside of her knee.

“Don’t stop touching me.”

“I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to,” he said, relief flooding him in a dizzying wave.

“I’m glad it’s not a hardship, then.” Her palm slipped down to run along his face and stroke his jaw.

“Anything but.” Draco sighed and sank back on his haunches, missing her hand on his face the moment he moved. “I apologise. I shouldn’t… Does it bother you?”

“It might have, if it were a hardship having you touch me. But it’s not.” Granger turned her head to the side, hiding from him as she blushed. “It might be the potion, it might not be, but I came very close to asking you to...shag me.”

Something stricken tumbled past his lips and she faced him once more. “Would that be alright? I know you’re only helping me and might not want to, but I can’t help feeling like I will ask. Like I will need it.” She was almost glowing with how much she was blushing, but she didn’t look away. As if she needed to see his face when he answered. To be sure.

“Gr—” Draco had to clear his throat. “Granger, I’ve been hard since the first time I made you come. Please believe me when I say this; if you ask me, I will fuck you. If you are not prepared for that, don’t ask. My self-control is hanging on a thread as it is.”

Her eyes widened at his words, her breathing picking up slightly. “You would want to?”

“Merlin’s pants, Granger. At this point it’s more of a need than a want. I hope that isn’t too off-putting.”

She blinked a few times, his words seemingly registering like individual thoughts. As if it was inconceivable to her that he’d actually want her. Granger’s next words left him breathless and completely floored.

“If that is true, then let me ask while I’m still of somewhat sound mind so there is no misunderstanding. When the next wave hits, I want you to shag me. And every time after that, if you can. I think that would be the fastest way to get over this. It’s what the potion is intended for, right?”

Draco was busy gaping at her as if she had just turned into a Pigmy-puff.

“Malfoy?”

He shook his head, sending a thought of ‘calm the fuck down’ southwards to his twitching cock. “Erhm, yes. I think… I think so. I was alone when it happened to me, so I can’t say for sure, but it makes sense. It’s the most obvious way.”

“Good,” Granger said and shifted. “I mean, not good that you were alone, that had to have been fucking excruciating, but good. I can…” She puffed up her cheeks and blew out a long breath, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. “It’s starting again.”

Draco’s brows rose. “Right now?”

“Yes, right-fucking-now, Malfoy,” she hissed, then groaned, her face twisting into something strained once more. “Oh, piss it! This is...horrible.”

Draco sprang to his feet, his gaze catching on her writhing body. Granger was busy curling to her side and in on herself again, her limbs shaking as she uttered small sobs that grew louder by the second. “H-hurry, please,” she gasped out.

Fumbling with his shirt-buttons, Draco proceeded to rip it open and shuck it when his hands shook too much. Next were his trousers, which he dropped alongside his briefs, only to almost stumble over the pant-legs in order to get back to her. Draco caught himself on the edge of his mattress and kicked off the fabric knotting around his ankles. Finally his feet slipped free and he grabbed Granger under her knees to push her further into the bed and followed.

Like the last time, he had to almost forcibly arrange her before she was on her back beneath him, her legs hiked up around his hips. Draco crouched over her, his fists on either side of her shoulders, his hips sinking down to meet hers.

He hissed out at the feel of heat greeting him and Granger keened, her legs dropping down to a more relaxed position. Lowering himself to his elbows, Draco rocked his hips, cursing at how fucking perfectly his cock slid through her folds to nudge at her clit.

Nails sank into his shoulders and Granger moaned deeply, meeting his rocking hips with stuttering undulations of her own. “Please… Inside. Now.”

Draco leaned on one elbow and gripped himself, his lids sliding shut at the immediate relief filling him when his neglected cock finally got a bit of friction. He pumped himself once, twice, then dragged his head up and down her slit, to coat himself further.

Granger was mumbling and twisting from side to side, making it impossible to enter her.

“Hold still, Granger,” he pressed forth, but she didn’t seem to hear him as she trembled and whined, her eyes firmly closed.

Draco sank back on his haunches and spread his knees, then gripped her waist on either side and slid her onto his thighs. Like this he could hold her with one hand and aim himself with the other.

With her back arching and her head pressed back, she let out a low moan when the head of his cock breached her heat.

“Fuuuck!” Draco was greeted with gripping and slicked tightness as he gently pressed deeper and retracted, trying to smooth his way into her, but she was so swollen that it took him a while and he hoped he wasn’t hurting her. He’d barely gotten his two fingers into her last time and he was larger than that.

Sweat beaded on his brow from how he strained to hold back, to take her bit by bit, and the further he sank into her, the more tightly her walls clenched around him. It was utter fucking madness, but finally he was all the way inside.

Granger shimmied her hips, then rolled them, her feet propped up next to him so she could move. The view and feel of her was nothing short of sinful and he had to hold her still in order not to lose it.

“Move,” she huffed out. “Please, Malfoy.”

“Just give me a second here, Granger.” He clenched his jaw, feeling his lower spine tingle with the need to come.

His thumb found her clit to work it in languid strokes and she gasped. Her fingers banded around his free wrist and she pulled, placing his palm on her chest. Her brown eyes found him. “Touch me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Draco palmed her right breast, feeling the weight and squeezed softly, before letting his fingers circle her areola and then her nipple.

Her cunt clenched when he pinched the hard little bud and her hips rose, then fell. The first slide was exquisite and he couldn’t help a whine slipping from him when she did it again, only to swivel her hips once he was deep.

“Oh my… Fuck. You feel so unbelievably good, Granger.”

“Fu-fuck me, Malfoy. I need… Want you to.” She reared up and sank her nails into his arse, pulling him firmly on top of her when she sank back down. Draco yelped and caught himself on his elbow. Then he let his torso settle against hers. His hand was squished between them, but he could still move his thumb the way he needed to. Slowly, he began to move, urged by her grip on his arse.

“Yesss… Oh, yes! Right… More!”

Draco’s control completely snapped and he drew out only to giver her a harsh thrust. He moaned the same time she did, feeling her quiver around him.

“Will you come for me?” he asked, doing it again, keeping the rhythm on her clit the same, only adding a bit of pressure.

She fluttered around him. “Yes. I will. You… Gods, you feel good.”

Brows drawn, she started at him with an open mouth, her hot breath fanning against his neck and chest. Draco barely stopped himself from kissing her when she licked her lips. Confused by his sudden and absolute need for it, he lowered himself, placing his face into the crook of her neck. He slaked his need by kissing, sucking and licking his way along the slope of her shoulder and then up her neck, he bit into her ridiculously soft skin and she whined. Her hands slid up his back and she sank her fingers into the muscles of his shoulders, shivering in his hold.

Draco lapped at his bite and kissed it gently, tasting the goosebumps greeting him. “You’re perfect. Salazar, you… I can’t...last. Your tight little cunt is killing me.”

Granger feathered her fingers up his nape and into his hair. “Let go,” she said into the column of his throat, before sucking on it. “Let go and I’ll come for you.”

Draco grunted at the feel of her lips on him, his brain winking out. Something instinctual and near animalistic took over and he wound his free arm under her shoulder, his hand curling up and around, clasping her firmly so she wouldn’t slide away. Then he let his hips swing freely. Each movement was sharp and deep, making her hiss out a ‘Yes!’. Draco fucked her faster, relentless, almost brutally, but she only keened and bit into his neck, her legs locking around him firmly.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t… Ahhh! Fuck, I’m coming!” Her body stilled for a beat, then he felt it; muscles going rigid and her cunt clenching him so hard he saw stars.

He groaned into her shoulder and kept fucking her as she screamed and shattered around him, her body bucking into his, shaking with her release. When he felt her pulling him along, he grunted and went to pull out but her legs were like a cage of heat around him, her feet locked together at the small of his back.

“Granger, I need to… Fuck, you have to let me go or I’ll come right here.” He emphasised his words with pointed thrust and her legs grew even tighter.

Her nails dug unto his shoulders and she clung to him. “Need to f-feel it. Come inside me,” Granger purred right next to his ear, before she bit into his lobe and Draco cursed.

He lasted for exactly two more glides, before his orgasm crashed into him in waves of blinding white. A sharp yell left him and he sank deep, his entire body seizing up with a pleasure so endless, he felt like he was floating at the edges of the universe, only tied to reality by the woman under him, around him. When her walls quivered around his cock in an aftershock, he almost lost consciousness.

Draco went lax on top of her, completely spent for a few seconds. Granger felt divine. So soft and giving, but he was surely heavy and made to roll from her. Still, she had wound her arms around his neck firmly. “Stay,” Granger whispered, her heart drumming fast against his torso. “Just for a moment. Please. I like feeling you so close.”

Draco chuckled and rolled them around so she was draped on top of him, slipping from her in the process. Granger raised her head, looking at him in surprise, still panting, as he ran his hands along her waist and up her back in generous circles. “I’m heavy,” he explained.

“I didn’t mind,” she told him. “But this works too.” She sank her face to his chest and relaxed as they both regained their breath.

“Are you alright?” he asked into the sound of their raised breaths.

“Yes. More than, to be honest. Shagging was exactly what I needed.”

“Glad I could help.”

“I’m glad you did.”

Something wet ran along his thigh and Draco realised it was his come dripping from her. While he didn’t mind it, it might be uncomfortable for her to leak like that.

Draco summoned his wand and Scourgified them both, eliciting a small jerk from Granger.

With a raised head she glanced at his wand and then him. “May I?” she asked, nodding at his wand.

Draco swallowed starkly. She wouldn’t be able to Apparate away, the wards would not allow it, but she could still harm him with a wand. Especially if he was without it.

Draco was covetous of his wand, even more so after Potter had won his from him and fucked off with it. Maybe he had lost braincells after that spectacular shag, or it was the way she looked at him. Open and without any hidden agenda—none that he could see anyhow. It made him actually contemplate it.

There was no logical reason for Granger to harm him. If the potion wasn’t done with her, it would be utter stupidity to try something. She was many things, stupid was not one of them.

Haltingly, Draco flipped his wand in his hand, offering her the grip.

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then something warm entered her features and she smiled at him. Again. That genuine smile flooded his senses, draping carpets along the cold floors of his empty room, hanging drapes and curtains at the side of the windows, lush and beautiful, without hindering the sun from entering.

Draco felt his own lips twitch in answer, but she was already looking away. Granger waved his wand along her own body, uttering a strong contraceptive charm. “Thank you,” she said and handed it back. “I am on the potion, but I think it’s better to be extra safe. Who knows what that pig put in his lust potion.”

After sending his wand to the bedside table, Draco lifted his hand and ran it up and down her arm. “That was a pretty strong charm,” he said.

“Yes, in case it isn’t over, I don’t want to have to repeat it each time.”

Draco hid a very embarrassing sound behind a non-committal grunt that sounded a bit breathy. “Do you feel like it’s over?” he asked, playing with her dark strands where they draped across her shoulder. Curls. Her hair had dried in curls. Wild and beautiful. It was a little darker than normal, but now she looked more like herself, and somehow that filled the walls of his room with pictures and decorative sconces.

Her hair was softer than he would have thought and he found he couldn’t stop touching it.

“I don’t know,” Granger said. “I’m sorry, Malfoy. I know this isn’t—”

“Don’t apologise,” he interrupted. “No hardship, remember?”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “No hardship at all.” They looked at each other for a few seconds, the air filled with unsaid things. Things they both certainly knew. It hadn’t only not been a hardship, it had been fucking mind-blowing. Altering. Draco could only guess that her experience was similar to his, but she would surely factor in that the potion might be part of it. Which was vexing. But it wasn’t like they’d ever have sex without it. He was a miserable bastard, but not delusional.

Granger sank her head back down, laying her cheek on his chest. His hands kept following the twists and turns of her curls and tentatively—as if she wasn’t sure he’d allow it—Granger placed a palm on his pec. Her fingers stood out against the paleness of his skin, creating a beautiful contrast. Slowly, her index finger started to draw shapes on his chest. Draco guessed it was absent-minded, as it didn’t seem to follow a distinguishable pattern.

Finally, her fingers stilled and her breath evened and deepened. Draco was taken aback when it became clear she had fallen asleep. Draped across him like a lover. Him.

He stared at the ceiling wrestling hard with his thoughts. She had to be exhausted, she was drugged, that was all. And even if it wasn’t, why would he care? What would it matter?

Even as he debated why his chest was filled with a sense of growing warmth and pressure, the room in his mind slowly filled with new furniture. Bit by bit and piece by piece.

By the time a set of sofas was completed, his lids drooped and he fell asleep.

The night was broken up into parts. Granger would wake him, writhing and gasping out his name. Draco would pin her to her back and fuck her, then pull her to his chest when they had both come and they’d both be asleep shortly after.

By the third time he knew exactly which angle and speed would get her there, what words made her clench and how and where to use his hands and mouth to make her scream.

Afterwards, he would clean them with a spell and tug her to him, holding her. Over time, her skin cooled and the pauses between her need grew longer, until it was simply...over.

The thing was, draining as the whole process was, Draco would want her every single time, growing semi-hard the moment she shifted and trembled against him. Her voice in the darkness, telling him to fuck her would do the rest. But after… When she snuggled into his side, or across his chest, or had him tug her back to his front, that was when something confusing happened. For all the spectacular shagging, Draco felt something curious when just holding her. It took him a while to understand that it was morse so the absence of something. Loneliness.

He had been lonely for a long time and for the first time in years Draco felt it slip away, replaced by a feeling he could only describe as serenity. Who would have thought sleeping with someone in his arms would not be a source of discomfort—as he had always believed—but one of...belonging.

When the light of dawn lit up the sky in pale pink, Draco woke. They had slept for a few hours and he found himself curled around Granger, her back to his chest, their legs tangled and her arse firmly nestled in his groin.

Interestingly enough, his cock was very appreciative of this position, even after all the action throughout the night. He felt like just closing his eyes again, but his bladder was demanding differently.

Gingerly, Draco unfurled himself, careful not to wake Granger. He snuck to the bathroom, went to the toilet and brushed his teeth while taking a shower—something he normally never did—but he wanted to be back in his bed. With her.

When he came back and slid under the covers, Granger grunted and turned, slinging an arm and a leg around him before nestling her face into his side. With a happy sigh, she wriggled a bit and then began to snore softly. Draco chuckled, tucking the blanket around her. He brushed his palm along her side, her arm, her waist, her hip, and back up again. After a few minutes, he noticed his lips were set in a very idiotic smile and he wiped it off, but Salazar damn him, this felt amazing.

As he watched her, completely trusting and relaxed, a very dark thought flickered into his mind. He could keep her. He could wake like this every morning. No one from her side knew where she had been taken to and he had enough money to placate Nott. He could… Draco frowned. No, she would never want that. And even as the darkest corner of his mind readily supplied him with the right Unforgivable to keep her with him forever, he did not want that.

The way she looked and felt now felt earned. Real. Anything else wouldn’t be. No matter that he didn’t want it to end, it would, and he’d release her. They would continue to be on opposite ends of this war and not see each other again. Especially not in this way. The night had been a one-time thing, he knew that. But the knowledge left him almost bereft and at a very jarring loss.

Draco shook his head and settled back, firmly closing his eyes.

His fingers sank into her hair and he listened to her breathing, let her warmth suffuse him and enjoyed these last stolen moments as much as he could.

Apparently he had fallen back asleep, because he jerked awake when the mattress dipped and a warm body slid against him. A delicate hand stroked up his chest and Draco glanced at her face. Granger was smirking, the morning sun lighting up here darkened hair from behind, making it look like dark fire. He caught hints of brown and even some gold in her tresses. She looked fucking gorgeous.

“Morning,” Granger said, her voice unguarded. She let her nails glide over his chest in a titillating caress.

“Good morning,” Draco rasped out. “How do you feel?”

She propped herself up on her elbow, leaning her chin on her palm. “Surprisingly good. A bit tired and...sore.”

Laying a hand on the one running along his chest, Draco squeezed her fingers. “I bet.” He was more than a little surprised when the scent of his soap, mixed with that of her skin, wafted around him. Fuck it smelled good on her. It looked as though she had showered as well...and then come back to bed. He would have wagered anything in his vaults that she would have dressed upon waking, only to hound him to set her free.

Granger laced their fingers, looking down at them as she did. “I wanted… Thank you, Malfoy. For what you did. Not only for getting me out of there but for giving me a choice and for, well… For helping me. I can’t even begin to imagine what would have happened if you hadn’t come by.” Her lips thinned. “When I imagine what happened to the rest of them. I can’t…”

“I wish I could have done more.” Draco lifted their twining fingers and kissed the pads of hers one by one.

Eyes of burning honey met his. “You helped me and you gave me choice.”

He grunted, his lids sliding shut. “Not much of one.”

“Would you have come into the bathroom if I had not come out?”

His eyes flew open again. “No, of course not!”

Gentle fingers brushed along his lips. “And in that you gave me a choice. Thank you.” Her eyes searched his face and she leaned in, pressing her lips to his cheek in a chaste kiss. Draco felt it all the way down to his toes.

“You are welcome. As we have established… No hardship.”

The way she looked at hi, her body so close, her hand in his and her fingers running along the lines of his lips, her voice—still a bit raspy from sleep—it all stirred his body awake. And not in the way he needed to be. Apparently his cock equated her moving and talking to him with immediate sex. How bloody inconvenient.

Draco took a deep breath to calm himself, it did nothing to discourage his cock from growing.

“No. It wasn’t. But I…” Granger bit into her lower lip and dragged her gaze down his partly covered body. “I was wondering whether you’d be...amenable to a last time.” Her eyes flicked to his and an enchanting blush bled up her cheeks.

Draco blinked at her dumbly, then her words registered. “What? Are you still in pain?”

“No.” Granger tugged her hand from his and let it run down the front of his throat, then his chest, then lower, dipping and rising with his clenching abs. “I’m simply looking to satisfy a few curiosities.”

His brows rose, even as his breath grew shallow. Her fingers stroking along his abs and then travelling back up had him twitching. “What kind of curiosities?”

She smirked. Cheeky. “Maybe I’ll tell you, if you’ll indulge me.”

“Merlin, witch, you are trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he gasped, then shuddered when her nails scratched down his chest lightly and then lower.

“Is that a no?” she asked, her eyes darkening, her voice husky.

“Fuck no,” Draco blurted and then hissed when her hand met his cock. “As you can feel, it’s an enthusiastic yes.”

Granger smiled and palmed him with a little humming sound. “Curiosity one, satisfied,” she said as she stroked him firmly, then ran her thumb over his head to spread the small amount of pre-cum that had accumulated there.

“What—” He had to clear his throat to hide a whimper. “Which one?”

“I thought to myself; he simply can’t be as big as he feels inside of me,” she whispered and sat up. The blanket dropped, revealing her naked form. “Turns out, you are.” Granger pulled at the blanket, freeing them both from it completely.

She rolled her lower lip between her teeth as she beheld him fully for the first time and a heady glint entered her pretty eyes.

“Number two, you are even more beautiful than I thought you were.”

Draco swallowed when she lifted her leg and straddled him. His hands landed on her hips and he groaned when she sat down. “Yeah?”

Granger slide along his cock and he watched it vanish between her folds, feeling her slick heat cover him.

She rocked back and forth, drenching him further. “Yes,” she gasped out when his head nudged her clit. “You’re incredibly fit. Unfairly so, really.”

His fingers sank into the plush cushion of her hips to drag her firmly along his cock, making her moan. “You still have to be unbearably sore. Are you sure?”

“Accio Malfoy’s wand,” Granger uttered and Draco watched his wand fly into her outstretched hand. She drew the tip down her belly and pointed it at her cunt, flicking it in a tiny circle, before sliding his wand underneath a pillow. Draco shivered when he felt her magic curl past his cock, warm and tingly.

“All set,” Granger said and rose to her knees. She grabbed hold of him and stood him up, then slipped his head through her weeping slit a few times before positioning him. Her eyes closed and her lips opened in a silent ‘oh’, when he breached her. “Gods,” she breathed out and sank lower.

“Stay like that,” Draco said, holding her hips in place. He gently thrust up in shallow moves, entering her a bit more each time. His heart was hammering behind his ears when he was half way in and she shimmied and dropped.

A stricken sound flew from them both when she took him fully. “Gods… Fuck, Granger! How do you feel so perfect around me?”

She let out a breathy laugh, her hands landing on his pecs as she leaned forward, letting him slip nearly all the way out. “Curiosity three, you feel exactly as fantastic inside me as you did during the night.” Then she rocked back and white entered his vision.

That glide, all silken heat and tight smoothness, made his eyes roll back in his head. It was as fucking sublime as it had been the first time.

Her nails pricked the skin of his chest as Granger leaned over him and let her hips snap back and forth in an insane rhythm. He gripped her arse, aiding her movements and feeling it bloody everywhere.

Her glorious tits swayed above his face and Draco raised his head to tongue one of her nipples. Granger keened in answer and ran one hand under the back of his head to hold him there. Draco groaned against her soft flesh, sucking on her, flicking his tongue over the hard little peak, before he bit down on it gently.

“Oh… Oh my… Godric, your mouth should be fucking illegal.” She undulated, rubbing herself on him with every move desperately, but Draco knew by now what she needed.

He kissed his way down her breast and to the centre of her chest. “Need my fingers, darling?”

She groaned and her cunt clenched around him. Draco smirked, finding her neglected nipple and lapped at it. He thrust up once when she only moaned. “Answer me, witch. Do you want me to make you come?”

She hissed and arched closer to him, her hips grinding along him in frantic moves. “Yes, yes please. Make me...come.”

Sucking on her, Draco let his left hand travel down her hip to grab her thigh, his thumb brushing through her curls to find her clit. He began to rub it but the glide wasn’t good. Skating his knuckles up her belly and over her still wet nipple, Draco reached her neck, then her face. Grabbing her chin, he ran his thumb along her plush lips. “Open.”

She did and he sank his thumb inside. Her tongue stroked over him, then her teeth nibbled and she sucked with hollowed cheeks.

Draco nearly lost his control at the sight, knowing it would stay with him forever. “Such a pretty fucking mouth, Granger,” he rasped and pulled his thumb from her. He ran it along her lips once more, before brining his hand between them again, finding her clit.

She bucked against him with a wanton groan and Draco sank back to watch her. With practised movements, he stroked her, adding little thrusts to meet her undulations. Her head dropped back in a graceful move as her hands found his pecs again for balance and she picked up her pace until she was panting and whining.

“The sounds you make, gods,” Draco said, watching a blush bleed across her chest and up the delicate slope of her throat. Her brows furrowed and her mouth opened on a long moan.

“Just like… Yes, I’m so close… So…” Granger groaned and her walls clenched around him.

Draco hummed at the feeling, completely enraptured by the vision on top of him. Rays of sunlight painted her freckled skin, lighting her up like a goddess. Her dark curls bounced around her shoulders like swaths of clouds, flirting with her tits.

“Come on my cock, darling. Let me feel you,” Draco said, his voice guttural with restraint.

She stilled her movements with a whimper and Draco dragged her back and forth with the hand still holding onto her hip. He thrust up at just the right angle and added pressure to his thumb.

A tremble took hold of her, then she threw her head back and yelled, shaking and breaking around him. Her cunt quivered, gripping and releasing him in maddening waves as she came.

“There it is. I can feel you. Gods… you’re perfect.”

It didn’t stop, but kept going and she started to moan brokenly, her entire body seizing and relaxing in intervals, her nails spearing his skin, leaving half-moon indents behind.

Draco stroked her through it, fucked up in small movements, until she sagged and fell forward. He was quick to catch her and held her to him, feeling her heartbeat flutter and her chest heaving, little shivers still raking her as she came down. Kissing her temple, he feathered his fingers through her curls. “That was fucking gorgeous, darling,” he rumbled. “You look so pretty when you come.”

She hummed something her didn’t understand, but Draco rolled them, still firmly sheathed inside her, until he was resting between her thighs. He propped himself up and stroked his palms along her cheeks, plucking away stray curls sticking to her sweaty skin.

Granger opened her eyes and looked at him with something bottomless and so completely sated, that his breath caught.

She slid her hands around his neck, drawing her fingers through the hair on his nape. “Number four, the orgasms you give me are that fucking good and your talking is sinful.” She smirked and her gaze dropped to his lips. “Time to sate curiosity number five,” she whispered.

Slowly, as if to give him time, she rose and pulled his head down. Draco’s throat was instantly dry and he swallowed, unbelieving of what was about to happen, but then her lips were on his. Soft, hot, and oh so perfect. She kissed him tentatively at first, as if to test the waters and his reaction. Draco beat back his surprise and kissed her back, feeling tingling zaps of...something swirl through him. He tilted his head, cradled her face and sank into the kiss fully. She moaned, making his lips sing with the vibration. Languidly, he licked along the seam of her lips and she opened for him.

The first taste of her made him shiver, then he let his tongue explore hers, giving her a moan of his own that she drank down. The kiss turned heated and frantic fast. Teeth, lips and tongue working, learning, meeting. Groans and breath traded from one to the other and Draco raised his hips and then thrust into her. The added sensation of kissing her did something monumental to him. It was a connection sparking along his nerves that had been missing before.

The room in his mind filled with more. Shelves, books, a hearth with a blazing fire and cushiony wingbacks.

He was lost to her, the feel of her lips, the taste of her mouth, the feeling of her warm walls around his cock, her scent, her sounds… He never wanted it to end.

Finally, he rose a bit, gasping for air, but hovering closely. He kissed her again, slow this time. “How does number five rank?” he asked against her lips.

Granger nipped at his lower lip and sucked on it sweetly. “Brilliantly. Might have to keep on exploring that one.”

“Thank Merlin,” he mumbled, kissing her some more. “Don’t think I’d ever tire of kissing you.”

Granger’s answering smile tasted like heaven. “Will you…fuck me until we both come now? Draco?” She whispered his name into him and Draco stilled, scorching heat fanning along every atom of his being.

“Say that again,” he demanded, rising a bit to look at her. “Say my name again.”

She smiled at him, her fingers stroking along his cheek. “Draco.”

His lids squeezed shut and he took her lips in a searing kiss. It was devastating. She let him devour her and met him with just as much fervour, her hands snaking down his back to sink into his arse. Draco moaned and began to move. As he picked up speed, their kiss turned sloppy until it was impossible to keep the connection.

“Want to hear you say my name when you come,” he huffed into the crook of her neck, before he sucked on her giving skin, finding her pulse with his lips and tongue.

“Yes,” she wailed out, her legs circling him. “Make me come, Draco.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! You are… Hermione, you’re going to ruin me.”

She whimpered, firmly clenching down on him when he said her name. Draco sat up and pulled her hips onto him, while ramming into her.

Hermione arched in a beautiful motion, her eyes firmly shut, her arms falling over her head to tangle in her curls. Gripping her waist tightly, his thumbs drawing circles into her plush belly, Draco wrenched her along his cock, while snapping his hips with a frenzy. He had never fucked anyone this way, bordering on feral, but gods it felt good, as if he was branding himself into her cunt. Into her very bones. She’d remember this forever. Remember him forever.

Their skin slapped together, stinging almost painfully, but she just moaned louder and when his thumb parted her folds, she flailed.

“I’m… Draco, I’m…”

“Undo me, Hermione,” Draco growled. “Make me come.”

She splintered apart, yelling his name as she convulsed, pulling him deep into her. Draco followed her without a choice. Her name was on his lips as he barrelled into oblivion, feeling her everywhere. Around him. Inside of him. All he knew, all he felt was her, and the searing pleasure that exploded him into a million pieces. Hermione was the only tether and she tugged his pieces back together, remaking him, altering him and when he opened his eyes, he was lying on top of her, breathing hard. Someone new.

He kissed her cheeks, her jaw, her brows, her lids, cradling her face firmly between his hands. Then his lips met hers, sipping, languid.

“Thank you,” he said when he finally pulled back.

“For what? You indulged me.”

Draco snorted out a laugh. “That might be how you see it, but you gave me what I needed. The experience of us both wanting it and giving in.”

She brushed a few of his strands back along his scalp. “Curiosity number six; would we want each other without the potion? The answer is a resounding yes.”

He dipped down and kissed her once more. This time it was intentional, filled with things he couldn’t—didn’t want to—say. ‘Goodbye’, ‘I don’t want you to go’, or ‘When will I see you again? Would you even want that?’

She mewled a tiny sound into him and hugged him tightly. Draco dragged out the kiss until he had no excuse for doing so anymore. Then he rested his forehead to hers and breathed her in for a few seconds. He pulled back and out of her, feeling each centimetre of distance like a physical ache. Telling himself to get a grip, he headed to the bathroom and cleaned up a little. It was useless. He was who he was and she was Hermione Granger. It wouldn’t do to let any kind of hope live. In any capacity.

When he entered his room again, she was dressed, sitting in one of his wingback chairs. His wand lay on the coffee table in front of her. Curious, Draco felt absolutely no apprehension knowing she must have used it.

“I uhm… I took some of your clothes and transfigured them,” she said, folding her hands in her lap. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t feel like doing anything with the ghastly stuff they made me wear. Other than burn it.” Her honey gaze flicked to the dancing flames of his hearth and Draco chuckled when he saw a strap of silk fizzle into nothing.

“I don’t mind at all,” he said and walked into his closet to get dressed himself. Once he was done, he draped his cloak around his shoulders and held out a palm to her. “Ready?” His throat tightened when she nodded and slid her palm into his. He pulled her to a stand and snatched up his wand. With a wave, cold magic scuttled along his face, settling in a silver mask.

Hermione’s grip on his hand tightened and he squeezed back. “I’m sorry. I can’t have anyone see me with you.”

“I understand,” she said, her voice a bit thin.

He drew up his hood and Accioed a piece of parchment he had been working on for some time. Draco tucked it into his pocket. “I have a curiosity of my own, now that you have satisfied all of yours.”

Hermione blushed a little, but nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Your eye colour and your hair. What kind of magic did you use?”

She gaped at him, then laughed. The sound was like spring-rain and Draco scowled at himself under his mask. Who the fuck thought such nonsense?

Still chuckling, she tilted her head at him. “Whenever I go out on a supply run, I straighten my hair with a Muggle device called a hot-iron and I use contact lenses. Coupled with my tinted hair, none has ever mistook me for who I am.”

“Huh. Clever,” Draco said. “A hot-iron? Sounds ominous.”

“I am known to be quite smart,” she said and grinned at him. “And it’s perfectly safe, as long as you don’t touch it directly.”

Draco squeezed her fingers, his heart skipping a beat at her grin. Even wearing his mask, she didn’t look at him differently. It was a balm to his soul.

She laced their fingers and grabbed his arm with her other hand. “Shall we?”

Draco nodded once and then Apparated them away.

Hermione stared across the field with an open mouth. Draco had Apparated them into a copse of trees, hidden from view. Nestled at the end of the field stood a ramshackle house, or what looked like one. He knew there were wards, obscuring the safe-house from view.

She turned to him, brown eyes wide. “How did you know? I mean…” Something suspicious ebbed in her features, then it was replaced by deep contemplation.

Draco fought it, but he eventually pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her. “I had various reasons for saving you, Hermione,” he whispered next to her ear. “It wasn’t all guilt about the atrocious history between us.”

She sank her forehead to his chest and breathed out in a small gasp, then raised her face to look at him. “It’s you. You’re the spy, the one who has been feeding us information. But… No one knows who you are, not even Kingsley.” Her brows drew together, creating a sharp line between them.

Draco raised a finger and stroked at it, smoothing it away. “I’d prefer it staying that way.”

“Why tell me, then?”

He cupped her face and brushed his thumb along the apples of her cheek. “You trusted me with your life, Hermione. Now I’m trusting you with mine. Call it trying to make amends. For everything I did and said to you.”

“Draco…” She rose to her tip-toes and lifted his mask until it revealed his lips, still covering his eyes. She kissed him firmly. “Don’t die. Promise me.”

“I’ll try my best. And you, don’t get caught again. I don’t want to make my loyalties known by killing one of the Dark Lord’s servants if they hurt you.”

She kissed him again. “I can’t promise that.”

He nodded. “I’ll do what I must when the time comes, then.” He dipped down one last time, brushing her lips with his. “You should go.”

Hermione nodded and sank down before stepping away. Her shoulders rose in a large breath and she turned from him.

“Hermione, I almost forgot.” Draco plucked the piece of parchment from his pocket. He gave it to her and she arched a brow in question. “It contains the wards, guard number and roster of Nott Manor.” He shrugged when her second brow joined the first. “I am alone, hard to take down an operation as big as his on my own. You have more man power.”

A darkly satisfied smirk grew on her pretty lips. “Thank you, Draco. I will use this well.”

Draco nodded. “Make him suffer, Granger.”

She nodded, still wearing that dark smile. “Count on it.”

Hermione had kept her word. A week later, Nott Manor was invaded. All potion stores and recipes had been destroyed and rumour had it, the antidote to the lust potion was making the rounds in wizarding society. Nott Sr. was found in the burned-down stables, charred beyond recognition. Only his general build and the placement verified it was him.

Voldemort had thrown a hissy-fit, torturing the messenger, Alecto, until she was blue in the face and on death’s door.

Draco had celebrated the win on his terrace with a firewhisky, writing to Theo. He would soon be able to come back from Italy. Draco could hardly wait. It would be good to have his friend around again. Maybe it would stave off the loneliness he now felt even more keenly than before.

It was the worst during the nights, when he lay awake and remembered Hermione in his bed. To Draco’s immense vexation, he missed her. He missed her as if he had lost a limb, which was utter madness, since one bloody night couldn’t have that much of an impact. It was ridiculous. Yet… If he was honest with himself, he knew it had. She was living inside of him now. And he fucking missed her.

One month later, Draco Apparated to an unplottable location, ready with news for the Order. His mask was in place, as was his hood and the charm on his throat to distort his voice. He paced, waiting for his usual contact to pop in. They were late.

After a few minutes, the crack of Apparition had him spinning. His heart fucking stopped.

Hermione stood in front of him, hair curly and eyes brown. Her lips trembled when she smiled, looking unsure and a tad apprehensive. “Draco?”

Draco ripped his mask of and it vanished in a curl of silver smoke. He was in front of her in two steps. “Hermione?” His voice was hoarse, his heart now beating so fast it felt as though it wanted to fly from him.

She let out a gasp and launched herself at him. Draco caught her with both arms and it felt unlike anything ever had before. Her arms and legs circled him tightly, her face burrowed in the crook of his as she let out a loud sob.

He hugged her as if she could vanish at any moment, then pulled back to palm her face. “Hermione, what are you doing here?”

She smiled, genuinely now, and sank her fingers into his hair. “I’m your contact from now on. I volunteered, or threatened, who cares? But like this I get to see you.” Hermione placed her forehead to his. “For now, once a month will have to suffice. Until we win this fucking war.”

Draco grunted a surprised sound, a million questions running through his head, but then she was kissing him his mind went blank.

The room in his mind—her room—lit up with life and he kissed as if his life depended on it. Once a month was enough. For now.

He kissed her deeply, breathed her in, tasted her, felt her all around him, and it was like coming home.