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She ran her hands up and down her tight, yet professional blouse, hoping she could open the door without leaving a sweaty residue.  She could do this.  She had been single for over six months.  She had been lusting after that ravishing piece of wizard much longer than her quiet, official break-up with Ron.  

 

She had been leading them up to this moment.  The small smiles she would send him out of nowhere. She was seeking out his opinion in meetings, leaving her hands on his rippling arms slightly longer than necessary, or squeezing past him in the Ministry’s halls.  She knew he wasn’t blind to her sudden open appraisal of his form or the way he bit his lip while he prepared to argue for his team.  

 

With a sigh, she squared her shoulders back, adjusted her garter and stockings so the seams were still hidden when standing in the damned pencil skirt Pansy forced her in, and grasped the doorknob.  Plastering on as innocent a look as possible she turned the handle.  

 

She bit her cheek to conceal her surprised satisfaction when she saw his platinum blond head whip up, a strong sure hand reaching up to push the fringe back away from his eyes as he raised a confused eyebrow at her still standing in her door frame. 

 

Belatedly she realized she looked potentially quite odd, swinging her door open so ferociously a sense of sincere accomplishment around her and no obvious reason as to why.  

 

Feeling more confident with his eyes on her, she simply quirked a brow back, spelled her door to stay open wordlessly, and turned.  She made sure she took slow, seductive steps back to her desk, letting her hand drag suggestively against the wood of the tabletop and sat slowly.  She looked up at him through her lashes watching him readjusting his tie, quicksilver eyes on her like prey.  

 

She allowed her legs to drift open as she settled at the edge of her chair.  She gave him a moments look up her skirt before coyly crossing her right leg over her left, feeling the skirt up and give him a glimpse of the dark garter belt highlighted against her caramel skin.  She had to stifle a groan as she saw him adjust himself under his desk, teeth finding her lower lip as she tore her gaze away from any further perusal of his body. 

 

With a clearing of a throat her eyes shot up to an amused Harry’s as he came in to discuss something or other.  


She wore a wide cowl top which left her decolletage and collarbones wonderfully exposed.  She shifted her long curls to the left, coughing delicately as she pretended to read her most recent request for her team’s support from the DoM.  

 

She brought up her non-dominant hand and slowly ran her fingers along her collarbone and up her neck.   

 

He cleared his throat across the hall as if in response to her delicate cough.  She lifted her eyes to his as she moved her hair to the right, exposing more of her neck, and felt herself heating up as she saw him get out of his desk, attempt to adjust himself once again, what could he have hidden under those trousers , and start to stalk across the hall.  

 

She shouldn’t have been surprised when Theo came up to Draco halfway to her door to discuss the meeting they were due to in an hour’s time.  He kept his eyes connected to hers even when Theo’s greeting stuttered to a stop as his keen gaze shifted between Hermione and Draco.  When Theo finally clapped Draco on the back, the stupor was broken and they drifted away.  

 

With a forlorn sigh Hermione gave up her teasing for the day, it took her long enough to gather the courage to begin with.  

 

I should just tell the girls to sod off and let me simply ask him out for coffee. 

 

She could hear Pansy's sharp remark that she was reeling in a big fish here, not some childhood friend or admirer and Ginny's reminder to let her lady bits have fun and not shrivel to death at a coffee shop.


You can do this Hermione Jean Granger.  You have faced worse challenges than this and come out victorious.  Well mostly victorious, there was that one time that she dated a man long-term that was more friend than lover, and that time in fourth year where her campaign for house-elves-- FOCUS, Hermione.  

 

You will get up from this desk and pretend you just came for a cup of your own tea even though you hate their brew here.  You are both alone. Both the only two people for at least another hour this morning. Take. Your. Shot. 

 

With a sharp nod to no one, she dropped her hands from her superhero pose-- something she had picked up when reading a Muggle Self Improvement book ages back to build confidence in oneself for a moment such as this.  Hermione grabbed the first folder on her desk, not slowing her brisk glide across the office towards the kitchenette until she could hear him tinkering about.  

 

She had been surprised to see him make his way there, knowing he kept his own specially imported loose leaf teas in his office.  Must have run out Hermione so let's make the most of it .  

 

Hermione eyed the open space between her current position and her destination for any obstacles.  Once satisfied she wouldn’t fall arse over tea kettle, she situated her nose in the open folder and, watching him through her loose hair and walked into the kitchenette.  The tinkering of the spoon against porcelain slowed when he realized he was no longer alone.  

 

As she took a step in his shoulders tensed and he began to fiddle with the tea kettle. She realized he always did this when she was near, tensing as if preparing himself for something. Hopefully something good, Draco darling. 

 

Aiming for sophisticated seductress Hermione instead bumps into the small table in the center of the room.  Groaning unsophisticatedly, she hops on her exceedingly high heels, skirt riding up as she attempted to ease the ache in her toe.  

 

She heard him chuckling lightly to himself as she sets her foot back down, accio’d her paperwork back to her, knowing she was missing a great bend over moment but her mortification at hurting herself overpowered her desire to toy with him. 

 

“Oh, uhm, Morning Malfoy,” she says less confidently than she would have preferred. 

 

“Are you okay?  Want me to massage the ache?” Draco asked with a grin she would later identify as lascivious.  Instead, she just stared at him quietly for a moment as she considered asking him instead for a massage in a decidedly less than appropriate, yet equally achy, location on her person.  

 

Clearing her throat, “Nope,” she pops the p, “just a bit distracted.  With, uh, what with you know these files and such,” she says waving her nondescript file in the air like a shield.  

 

“Yes, office updates are really thrilling this early in the morning,” he drawled, jaw muscles twitching and demonstrating an impressive grasp on his control as he tried not to laugh at her further. 

 

With a silent huff at herself and how backward this had ended up she lopped the files onto the cockblocking table and walked over to the far counter to fix her own subpar cup of tea.   

 

She felt him watching her as he recommenced dressing his own up as she watched the water boil.  She quickly snatched the cream from his space with a slight quirk of her brow and walked over to grab a mug for herself.  However, the only viable mugs were just slightly out of reach.  

 

This moment could be salvageable if only I could find a way to ask him for his assistance without seeming as if I forgot how capable of a witch I am--  

 

A light breath huffed out of her as suddenly she felt a warmth at her back and a strong body pressing against all the right places of her own.  He grazed his hand slowly, almost timidly, against her own, his other hand cupping her side gently, presumably for stability, as he plucked her desired mug from the shelf.  

 

Automatically leaning into him Draco’s hand flexed along her side.  They stood there, bodies pressed to the other, short puffs of breath joined the shroud of tense, hopefully sexual , silence.  It was only disturbed by the mug being placed on the counter and his other hand landing on her flat stomach.  

 

Gathering her courage from earlier Hermione began to shift her neck to peer up at him when the main door banging open forced them apart with a sharp, nervous gasp.  

 

This is it!  The fates have spoken, I am not meant to have the tall all-consuming hunk that my very soul resonates for.  With barely a glance back at the empty mug or him she grabbed her files and fled to her own office as dignified as possible giving the offending office receptionist a smile with more teeth than necessary.  A small tantrum against the wall of her door frame later, she forced herself to keep the door open and continue on with her day.  


He was scribbling furiously again.  His team had just finished up a high profile case with the Aurors, but he had barely looked at her all day.  She felt herself pouting and shook herself at how very like Ginny she was reacting.  If Harry didn’t give her the attention she demanded regularly she would show up in a deep coat, fooling no one, and lock them both in her office until she was satisfied.  

 

Don’t be like Ginny, or Pansy for that matter who apparently surprised Blaise under his desk just last week.  It had been over two weeks since feeling his taut torso against her petite back.  She had felt so cared for, a feeling so welcome after going without for so long and it had only added to the raging thirst she felt for him. 

 

Staring at her inkpot while allowing her thoughts to take a rather depressing turn for her heart and her body's yearning she barely noticed the slight pause across the hall.  With a deep sigh, Hermione set down the various reports she was reviewing from her employees as she considered what else she could do to entice him into action.  

 

Even though she had felt that perhaps she was the recipient of his heated gaze, without verbal confirmation or any sort of real move from his end she was constantly left feeling unsure if her message was coming across clear enough.  She had seen him make his moves with confidence in the past, although most women went to him as all her girlfriends reminded her of last weekend when she was ready to throw this teasing game in the bin for good.  

 

Either way, he was not making a move towards her.  Even with her teasing and updated wardrobe and physical presentation routine which had her considering that perhaps she really was destined to be without any affections from the exquisite specimen across the hall.  

 

Moments later however a devious smile crossed her face as she really considered the inkpot - a decoration now after her team-wide transition to her magically altered muggle pens.  She uncrossed her legs from under the desk and glanced up to make sure he was still focusing on his work.  She noted that he seemed a bit less enthusiastic with his own work but pushed that thought away determined to do something a bit more risque.  

 

As quietly as possible Hermione pushed her folder sharply away from her and groaned quietly as her inkpot rolled off her desk and onto the floor halfway between her desk and door.  She heard his scribbling cease and the slight sound of his chair shifting. 

 

“Brilliant,” she huffed as she stood, leaving her skirt ridden up slightly from sitting for so long, and walked around to the front of her desk hoping she pulled off this little acting moment as well as she had seen in films.  

 

Twisting her hair a few times to avoid an ambush of curls, she threw her waist-length hair over her right shoulder and looked down at the offending inkpot mischievously.  With her back entirely to the door Hermione bent down slowly at the waist.  She knew she was successful in her descent when she felt air hit the back of her upper thighs and the knickers that pulled tighter against her pussy lips.  

 

“Fuck,” she heard from across the short hall as his desk chair creaked louder.  She stretched her arm down for the item, knowing her skirt would ride up even more and hoping he caught a glimpse of the hot pink lace scarcely covering her needy cunt.  

 

She heard him struggle to hide a groan into a cough and began to rise with the intent of moving into his office after his rather obvious appreciation of her efforts.  

 

However, she felt something sharp suddenly tapping at her arse.  Springing back up she turned quickly, catching his silver flashing eyes ready to ignore whatever had attacked her arse to begin with before she reached out for the offending airplane memo that began to stab into her hip bone instead.  

 

Feeling the heat of his stare on her legs, she attempted to process the words on the memo in her hand.  She bit down hard on her lip to focus her attention back to the memo rather than the very real fantasy of crossing the hall, leaning in front of his chair, letting her skirt and knickers drop and opening her legs wide for his unrestricted perusal.  

 

Fanning herself slightly with the memo she finally acknowledged Draco directly, “Got one too?” gratified to see how very tight he was grasping his own memo.  

 

Ducking her head back down at his almost robotic nod she was finally able to read: Convention, Attending with Head of Curses Draco Malfoy, two days’ time, meet at 7 a.m.

 

She took a moment to calm the thrill that shot through her before glancing back up with a brilliant smile that was probably out of place for the situation.  Ignoring his unblinking gaze for the time being, “Well it looks like we're the only two British Ministry attendees, Draco!”

 

She knew she must have surprised him with the use of his first name if the slight flinch to his lips was any indication.  With a skip in her step, she went back to her desk and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment to prepare for her two-week-long trip away with Draco Malfoy.  With renewed confidence for what this could mean for her state of mind when it came to him.  

 

She began a list, the first item of which was a shopping trip with the ladies to Madam Risque’s.  


“Crooks, I have set up a charm to feed you twice a day.  You have uninterrupted access to the acres surrounding our home but come back every night to sleep, okay?”  With a quick kiss to her cantankerous old familiar, Hermione jumped into the floo and out into the Ministry's already busy atrium.  Taking a moment to siphon the soot off her clothes and new beaded bag she made her way to the left of the atrium.  

 

“Cutting it a bit short, aren’t we Granger?” he called out as she rushed into the room designated for international travel.  

 

“Oh, hush you, I am leaving Crooks almost alone for two weeks and Pansy never showed up to see me off,” she admonished jokingly.  

 

“Crooksha- do you mean that that little orange menace is still around?” he said, surprised.  “And good-old Pans never makes an appearance before 9 am.  I am sure he’ll be in good hands.”  

 

Cocking her eyebrow up at him as she leaned against the wall as she looked at him.  She took in his loose hair, checking that the leather strap he used to tie it back was around his wrist, ready for use.  His light green stained oxford and black slacks down to his shining dragon hide boots made her thankful for her more flexible outfit should the option be made available to jump into his arms.  

 

Taking a calming breath she finally looked back into his now amused gaze, “I didn’t realize you knew of my familiar.”

 

She watched him dart his eyes between her own for a moment longer than necessary and she felt a blush rise up into her hairline.  

 

Ding , looking alarmed at the space in front of them she shook her head at another ruined moment as their muggle handcuffs, where the ministry acquired them for portkey use was beyond her , glowed blue then green letting them know they had but a minute before it left. 

 

“I hate portkeys, you know? I never seem to land just right, hence the outfit,” she gestured down at her laced up Adidas, her tight leggings, and loose v-neck white t-shirt a style she was happy to bring back from the states, “I’d rather be comfortable when I stumble on my ass than in a tight skirt and heels.”  

 

As she looks up at him he gulps visibly before stepping closer to her and the portkey.  “You better hold on tight then, I’ll make sure you land just right.  And I would rather not just anyone see up your tight skirts.”

 

He smirked down at her as she gasped slightly before stepping into his extended arms.  Wrapping an arm around his torso and leaning her cheek against his upper pecs, she fought the urge to rub her face against his firm chest.  

 

She felt his warmth radiant through her thin tee as they both grabbed hold of the portkey.  They were forced through a tiny wormhole of space and time, atoms shifting, magics swirling around each other, breaths coalescing into one, and finally, they were spinning to a stop.  Hermione dropped the hold she had on the portkey and joined her other hand on the back of his shirt tightly, forcing deep breaths into her lungs rather than bile up her throat.  

 

He shifted around her, wrapped around her securely against him while she battled her nausea and unease.  With her forehead leaning against his mid-chest and her body pressed perhaps a bit closer than necessary to his own, she had never felt so certain that he was it for her.  

 

Allowing herself a moment longer for dramatics, her mind wandered back to what she felt with Ron.  What had started out as the potential for a long term relationship, ended in two people co-existing around the other.  Ron was an excellent roommate, but that was the problem there wasn’t it?  They were supposed to be in an intimate relationship and had lived for the last year as roommates versus lovers.  

 

Before she could worry about that happening with anyone else she gripped his shirt tighter for a moment before finally lifting her head.  Forcing her toes to expand within her Adidas trainers, she kept herself planted firmly on the ground rather than rising up to introduce her lips to his sharp chin.  She observed his neck muscles ripple as he shifted his head around, watching the space they landed in over her wild mane of hair. 

 

With a resigned internal pout, she released her grip on his shirt and already missed his hands around her back as he dislodged as well, slowly dropping them to his sides as she stepped back.    

 

Hermione looked at him for a moment, unsure how to thank him for holding her without sounding like a thirsty little kitty.  “You are the ideal travel companion, Malfoy.  Thanks for the stability.”

 

She turned away quickly and swore he mumbled something about giving her more than stability next time.  Hermione bit her inner cheek to force her feet forward instead of turning back and leaping onto him.  

 

While she controlled the rippling need that coursed through her, she glanced around confirming that they were dropped off directly in Conservatorium Hotel’s lobby for magical guests.  With a satisfied grin at not having to traverse Amsterdam’s varied streets, she located the check-in desk to gather their room keys.  

 

She peered back to see Draco following casually behind her running a hand through his loose locks.  

 

Fuck, she is screwed .  

 

“Hello yes, checking in for one Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, separate reservations should have been made available a few days ago by the British Ministry of Magic,” she offered kindly when asked for their reservation information.  

 

She noticed the attendant had been eyeing Draco rather intensely as they approached.  However, now she was simply staring at Hermione with an undesirnable look before she shifted her eyes from what looked like a computer back to her and Draco.  She knew they make an odd couple, and if her unrequested fame has reached this city too, she can only imagine what this young lady must be thinking.  

 

She was startled out of her musing when the attendant responded rather brusquely.  “Yes, unfortunately, the only reservation I see here is a single room, with a double bed under the British Ministry of Magic.  As you can gather from the excess of people here we have an influx in both our magical and muggle rooms for the next two weeks due to various conferences.  Due to the hotel’s events calendar, we are booked otherwise and I cannot do anything on my end to adjust-”

 

“You mean to tell me, our Ministry is paying over 200 galleons a night for a single bed, single occupancy suite, for two of its highest-ranking officials?  Especially considering just who she is and how we are not in an intimate relationship.” Draco drawled, coming up next to her in all his intimidating 6’ 3” frame.  

 

“Yes,” the attendant said curtly, seeming to inflate some when Draco said they were not intimately acquainted.  “I am unsure just who she is and I apologize for the inconvenience you will experience, but it seems your Ministry has erred in their booking, not us.  There is a Comfort Inn just 5 miles out of the city that I heard is still able to accept on the spot bookings.  There is a line behind you so if you please.”

 

Placing a gentle hand on Draco’s arm, she looked at the attendant with an icy stare, “I am unsure if you are aware how utterly ill your personality is for this position, Ms. van Dijk.” She said peering closer at her name tag, “However, I will be sure to bring this to your leadership team, and very little remains inadequate once I set my mind to fixing something.  Please give me the key and any pertinent information for our small lodgings so we can get unpacked and hopefully avoid having to deal with you for a moment longer.”

 

She felt Draco shift his gaze on her when she began responding to the horrid attendant, but ignored his heated gaze as she concluded her response with an imperious arm outstretched, her back straight, and her nose slightly up in the air.  She would thank Pansy later for the example she was mimicking.  She knew she was embodying the ‘True Pansy Experience’ as Hermione had dubbed it on the numerous occasions her, Luna, and Ginny had gone out and she reverted to Pureblood Parkinson to defend herself or the group.  

 

With an unnecessary scoff the attendant slammed their fingers along the keyboard, tapping roughly.  Hermione just stood there imperiously, a gentle hand still on Draco’s arm.  She was thankful Draco has known how to play the ‘it smells like dung’ card since birth and joined her smoothly.  

 

“Also a print out of the spells holding the furniture together in the room.  We will need to be able to make some - adjustments - since your hotel misplaced our reservation and a double bed for two officials on a business sanctioned event simply is unacceptable.” Draco demanded startling the attendant from her deep glare at the slow-moving printer.  

 

“We do not have access to that information as it is assumed patrons will be respectful of the available space.  I can assure you that precautions have been taken to ensure cheap patrons pay for the correctly sized room.”

 

Without any further interaction and with two successive ‘ accios ’ of the paperwork and the keys, Hermione turned calmly, smiled benignly at the group behind them who sent them sympathetic smiles in turn, and headed off in search of their room.  She could hear the attendant speaking loudly about how horrible it was to assist certain tourists these days.  Hermione smirked darkly as she noted where the business offices were located.  

 

Once Draco had caught up, Hermione was already waiting at the lift as it seemed the stairs were being used for setting up the conference on the floors above and below the main lobby.  She threw her head back and laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation as Draco just gave her his old school sneer. 

 

“Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger, primmest prim on the block, and all-around your neighborhood nice girl?”

 

Hermione took a few deep breaths to calm her own humor and just sent Draco a small smile.  “You know who my best friends are.” She flipped her hair eerily reminiscent of Pansy as she swayed into the lift as the doors opened.  She sent him another grin at his choked laugh.  

 

Shaking her head slightly, she considered how this mishap could be the missing piece to ‘Operation Snag Draco’.  

 

Eyeing him through the corner of her eye she discreetly rubbed her legs together as she considered what sharing such a small space with such a large man would be like tonight, almost thankful for the jealous Ms. van Dijk.  

 

“Didn’t you see the lascivious smile she was sending your way until we reached her?”

 

Looking genuinely startled at her comment, it took him a moment before he could respond.  “You believe her behaviour stemmed from jealousy rather than simply being truly lousy at her job?”

 

“Oh no, she should definitely not be a point of first contact, certainly, but she was all smiles until we walked up together.  Silly girl, as if I would stop her from taking her shot if she so chose.”

 

Stepping onto the 3rd-floor landing, the reservation mix up was almost excusable in the face of such a beautiful and ageless building.  She ignored his spluttering behind her about thanking her for not being willing to protect him from other witches' advances.  

 

As she reached their door, she finished, “Of course, taking her shot does not mean she would succeed, Draco.  I could never let her get that close now could I,” she purred, loving the lazy smirk that adorned his face. 


After settling in and taking the rest of the day to explore the beautiful and eclectic muggle side of Amsterdam, they finally returned to the room with full stomachs and ready for a decent night's rest.  

 

As they entered the space they both finally acknowledged the griffin in the room stopped in front of the double bed adorning the sleeping space.  Hermione could hear Pansy and Ginny in her head reminding her of all their teasing tricks and lessons.  She knew this was the perfect opportunity to ‘rack up the heat’ as they say, but she didn’t want him to know just how eager she was for it.  

 

“I could, attempt, some spells to see if that bint was just trying to rile me up?” Hermione suggested, flicking her wrist out slightly as her wand shot from her arm holster.  

 

“I think it may be a safe bet to leave it as is, Granger.  What if it sets off some sort of alarm?  You already left a detailed complaint with the Director’s assistant and we don’t want anything that could be perceived as ‘sneaky’ to come from our room.”

 

Plastering on her most sincere look of incredulity she turned to him slightly, “So we - you and I - we keep it as it is, and you're okay with just sleeping in the same space?  What if I slept in the nude?” she announced, hands on her hips, biting her lip to keep from grinning wickedly up at his darkening gaze. 

 

“I make no apologizes for my sleeping attire then,” she murmured seductively.  “I get the bathroom first though.” 

 

With a swish of her hair, Hermione sashayed into the bathroom, slowly unzipping her skirt she had changed into upon their arrival from behind, hoping he was watching and not daring to check as she wandlessly closed the door behind her.  

 

With a deep breath, Hermione stood in front of the mirror for a moment longer. 

 

She tilted her head slightly as she assessed herself.  She unclipped her hair, allowing it to tumble in barely management ringlets along her shoulders and down her back.  She teased a few curls on her crown to land around her face a bit more purposefully.  Perhaps she should have left on some of her already minimal makeup? No, no, how vacuous would she look if she showed up ready for a night of only sleep with makeup still adoring her skin.

 

She loved the way the deep purple lace bra and knickers laid against her caramel skin.  She knew he probably preferred greens or silvers on his women, but she had seen the amount of deep purple he wore and suspected it had less to do with the brilliant way it showcased his almost angelic features and more to do with his actual preference towards the color of royalty. 

 

She readjusted the thin-strapped blue sleeping tank and the low rise matching shorts, gave one last quick shift to her hair, widened her mouth to check her teeth for anything she missed during her wash and floss, and finally faced the door of the bathroom. 

 

She wasn’t a witch who typically spent more than 10 minutes finishing her morning and evening ablutions, nor did she ever wear a bra to bed but today was the night she hoped to do more than tease this man.  She knew all the trimming, smoothing, primping, and charming the ladies had forced her to learn would be worth it if she didn’t miss her shot.  

 

Stepping into the room she was surprised to see him sitting, shirtless against the back wall, knee propping up his arm as he perused what seemed like an updated convention itinerary.  

 

“Anything interesting changed?” She asked, startling him and grinning inwardly as he watched her hand rub the moisturizer she had saved for last on her arms and upper chest.  

 

Clearing his throat, he grunted a negative as he stood and tossed the papers on the small table next to the seemingly smaller one-seater chair in their room.  

 

“If it’s of no consequence to you, Granger, I typically sleep on the left.” 

 

“Perfect, I sleep on the right!” she smiled brightly up at him as he passed her, eyes glancing at her exposed chest and hip bones.  

 

She settled herself on the right side of the bed as she adjusted the extra pillows she had procured from a lovely house elf that had been cleaning a nearby room to ‘separate’ the two of them.  

 

She was so immersed in her novel she didn’t realize he had finally reentered the room until the bed dipped next to her.  

 

“Think you can handle putting that away, Granger?  Or is that impossibly large brain of yours unable to handle a normal bedtime?”

 

Snapping the book shut she gave him a Snape like glare as she placed the book on the nightstand to her right and squirmed down to lay flat on the bed.  

 

“Nox,” he whispered into the room as he shifted slightly as well.  

 

After a few moments, Hermione gathered her Gryffindor courage once again and interrupted the silence of the room, “If, what I mean to say is, I sleep without any pants on typically.  With these pillows, we should be able to preserve our space and modesty so I am going to be removing my sleep pants.”

 

In the darkness of the room, his groaned response sounded wholly negative and she forced herself to continue with her plan even as doubts pounded against her courage.  

 

She settled against her pillow once again, and shifted, facing where he lay in the darkness.  

 

She attempted to close her eyes as the silence and their disjointed breathing echoed around them.  She had no idea where to go from here.  She had ignorantly assumed the cover of night would be enough to push, whatever this was, into new territory but she only seemed more panicked, more hesitant, more full of doubts and thoughts of inadequacies she has carried since her youth. 

 

With a deep sigh, she shifted onto her back.  When staring into darkness didn’t help, she quietly cast a low light night sky charm above their heads hoping that counting the stars will do the trick.  

 

She feels Draco take a sharp inhale next to her but squeezed her lips shut from asking him if this is okay.  She knew he was rarely quiet with his opinions.  Hermione feels him shift next to her and with the added lights from the night sky projection she can see him shooting glances her way through her lashes.  

 

She gasps when he sits up, ripped his sleep shirt off his body, tossed it somewhere to his left, and laid back down.  She scarcely took in a breath for enough time to force soft quiet gasps back into her lungs next to him. 

 

She kept her eyes focused solely on the shifting night sky and not his sculpted abs when she realized she had conjured the Draco constellation, of all star formations.  With a rueful shake of her head, Hermione decided to just simply count the stars, her original plan, rather than obsess over the what’s and how’s of this night.  

 

It’s as she has counted star 174 that he breaks the silence next to her.  

 

“I am at star 123, you?”

 

With a breathy laugh Hermione replied, “174 until you interrupted me.”

 

She feels him chuckle lightly and chanced a glance his way.  She watches the bluish-green hue of her projection against the relaxed muscles of his face as he smiles at her reply. 

 

He caught her eye as he shifted to look at her as well, and they held each other's gaze long enough for her to hear a slight ringing in her ears.  

 

“Is the Weasel coming to visit during the trip or was he alright letting his beloved travel internationally with a far superior breed of man for two weeks?”

 

Rolling her eyes at his childish name-calling she turned back up to the ceiling, “As you well may be aware, Draco Malfoy, no one lets me do anything.  However, I wouldn’t be surprised if Ron,” she emphasized his name with a quick glare sent Draco’s way, “didn’t know I had eaten today, much less left the country.”

 

She knew this could very well be the linchpin of the sexual desire she felt for the man laying mere centimeters from her, half-dressed.  

 

“Wait, why wouldn’t he know?” he asked more directly than she expected. 

 

“Well, Ronald and I ended our relationship officially about 6 months back, unofficially about a year before that.”  Picking at a loose strand in the sheets she felt the need to fill the silence with her rambling, “Uhm, ultimately we were really great roommates that left the other alone more often than not.  As you know we were together for a really long time but it wasn’t until we moved in together that we realized we never really acted like a couple.  So we tried really hard that first year to fill in all the relationship boxes, but it’s exhausting to be with someone you don’t feel that ever-tightening need toward.  And quite frankly, it seemed both our attentions lay in everything other than each other after the first year of living together.  He was making new, uhm, girlfriends and I was busy fantasizing after another man-,” she abruptly stopped her rambling and gave him an apologetic look. 

 

However, Draco seemed anything but annoyed at her extended and unrequested explanation.  He seemed to be thinking rather hard on something as his eyes traversed her face slowly.  

 

With as much of a nod as he could manage laying down, Draco allowed them to lapse back into tense silence once again.  

 

With a slight huff, Hermione bade him goodnight turning so her back was to him, and stared into the abyss of her sexless life until the sandman finally whisked her away.  

 

She felt the cool rush of air against her thighs and right breast that had set itself free during her short time asleep.  Noting that she was now facing Draco, she presumed it was the slight chill in the air that woke her as the covers were laying in a heap by their feet and even the ‘pillow wall’ was missing.  Shifting her head just enough to see if she could determine the time, she noticed the room's darkness was illuminated only by the small window in the far corner and her night sky charm, but no sunlight.    

 

It was as she shifted that she felt a pleasant zing course up from her chest.  

 

Taking a deep breath she looked down, startled to see the fingers of his right hand were slightly grazing her puckering nipples.  

 

With a start she realized she had unfettered access to Draco as well and wondered for a moment if this was a dream, pinching herself to be certain it was not.  She quite literally could not have set this up any better for her filthy mind.  

 

Inching herself closer she sighed when she felt his fingers twitch against her.  Biting her lip once again she looked back up and took a moment to stare at his broad chest and the delicious v that disappeared into his low set sleep trousers.  

 

She only hesitated a moment before whispering a warming charm on her typically cold hands and slowly tracing the faded white scars from his 6th year.  She longed to reach over with her lips and kiss away every moment that scarred his perfect porcelain skin but felt highly uncomfortable doing so while he was still asleep and unable to consent. 

 

With a sigh she continued her light trek with her fingers instead.  Hermione zipped from his scars to follow the outline of his corded muscles along his pectorals, down his abs, and along his sides.  She should have known tracing his skin so lightly would eventually cause him to wake up, but perhaps that had been her sex drives intention all along.  

 

She froze when his left hand shot up and gripped her wrist, eyes blinking away whatever she had sprung him from as he took in his surroundings.  

 

“Granger?” he questioned, seemingly to be certain he wasn’t still dreaming and she felt her heart fall slightly.  If he couldn’t consider seeing her in his own dreams, that did not seem to bode well for her right now.  

 

With a slight nod, she felt his thumb run absently against her pulse point on her wrist.  So enthralled with the gentle way he held her hand in his own she had no time to disguise the breathy moan that escaped her when he moved to readjust his right hand and ended up caressing her covered breast.  

 

He froze next to her, eyes finding hers and seemingly searching for something he couldn't put into words.  If he was able to find anything but a deep wanton need for him she would call every moment up to this a complete and total loss for her constantly drenched knickers.  

 

Instead, as if granted a reprieve from the many somewhat dark fantasies she had stored up with this man, he shifted his hand again this time purposefully running his knuckles against her throbbing nipple.  

 

She dropped her head down slightly as he grew bolder in his moves and began to trace his other hand up and down her right arm.  If Hermione had believed in an afterlife that did not include ghosts and poltergeists, she would think this moment, right there under the cover of the charmed night sky, in the smallest hotel room, either of them had probably ever stayed at, was heaven.  

 

Finally letting her wrist go she dropped her hand back to his torso and with more sure motions she let her hand drift to his nipples and knowing the loss would be worth the closeness, shifted her chest away from his hand and scooted closer.  

 

She propped herself up by her left arm as she made eye contact with him, licked her lips very slowly, and began to lower her head to his chest, giving him all the time in the world to reject her obvious destination.  

 

Instead, she allowed a triumphant grin to grace her face as she brought her lips down to the tops of the Sectumsempra scar and slowly and methodically sucked, nipped, and kissed her way through the crisscrossing aftermath of a deadly childhood suspicion.  He brought his hands up to shift her hair out of her face, eyes connecting as she continued down his torso until she was resting at the elastic of his sleep pants.  The room slowly shifted into a slowly boiling tension as her heated pants and sucks filled the silence; his soft groans evidence of his own valiant attempts to stay in control of his own physical reaction to her attentions.  

 

His eyebrows shot up and he finally broke the silence with a guttural groan as she licked up and kissed the tips of each V.  

 

However, before she could get a closer look at the very large imprint straining to free itself he hooked his large hands under her arms and lifted her up.  She landed with a huff under him as he flipped them and hovered over her for a moment.  She watched his gaze shift from her lips down her long neck, sharp collarbones, the exposed flesh of her chest and then he sucked in a breath at the very sheer lace knickers she had on.  

 

Unable to keep herself still under the heat his stare inflicted on her, she rubbed her thighs together, seeking a relief she knew only he could fully extinguish if only for a moment.  

 

She traced her hands from his thick fingers, up to his strong wrists, veiny forearms, engaged upper arms, and onto the corded muscles of his shoulders.  

 

“Baby,” he shook his head once as if to remind himself of who he was speaking to, “Hermione,” he tried again, “do you have any idea, can you even conceive how incredibly turned on I have been almost every day for the last oh, I don’t know, 6 months or so?”

 

Biting her lip and sending a prayer to Pansy for her tough love on her previous clothing preferences, she brought her hand up to trace his face, his lips and stopped just at the corner of his mouth.  

 

“Does that mean you enjoyed the many outfits I wore for you?”

 

With a squeak, he latched onto her mouth with a fire she had only dreamed of.  Wrapping her arms around his pulsing neck and linking her legs around his waist Hermione returned his kisses with her own ferocity.  

 

She groaned as he pushed his way into her mouth, tongue plundering every available space and laying claim to it like he had on her mind.  She pretended to play for power, but they both knew she was fooling no one.  

 

He shifted to hold himself up by his knees alone as he followed her arms up around his neck, lightly dislodging them and pinning them on either side of her head as he continued his assault on her mouth.  Kissing her thoroughly for a moment longer he finally separated long enough to take a deep breath, placed a chaste kiss on her lips, and began tracing his way to her left ear.   

 

“I do not share, and you, Hermione Granger, are not a notch in my bedpost.  If you agree to this, if you allow me to continue, there is very little that you can do at this point in time to get rid of me, I want all of you, beyond tonight,” he huffed against the shell of her ear as she keened.  

 

However, with a squeeze of her wrists, she instinctively knew he wanted a verbal reply.  She shook her head jerkily, “Yes, please Draco, all of me, it’s yours, please,” she pleaded, wishing she could show him just how much she wanted him but was forced into stillness by his hands wrapped around her own on the bed.  

 

“Do you think you can handle a little dominating in bed?  I plan to worship you, but on my terms,” he chuckled at her deep moan as she bucked up into his steely length under him.  

 

“Keep your hands here, pet.”  He nipped her ear as his hands left her own and traced her collarbone for a moment before she gasped as he tore her nightshirt down the center.  

 

She had very little time to react however as his mouth followed the earlier path of his hands and he began to suck hard on her pulse point leaving a throbbing spot that would shine brightly tomorrow as he descended to her collarbone and down her sternum.  

 

“Deep purple, hmmm,” his eyes found hers and she would have sworn, even in the darkness they were shrouded in she could see the black of his pupils contracting even wider, “was this for me too, pet?”

 

Without waiting for a response he began to nip and lick along her covered nipples, “Such a good girl, knowing my favorite color without ever asking me about it.  Surely, I can find an adequate reward for this, hmmm?” 

 

He mumbled against her skin and she let out a high pitched huff as he bit on her pointed peak before vanishing her bra altogether.  Hermione clenched and unclenched her hands, praying she had the wherewithal to keep them at her side without magic but knowing, just knowing, her stubborn desire to run her hands through his hair, his shoulders, his anything, would blind her to his commands soon enough. 

 

For now, however, she arched her back presenting her nipples to his wet perusal as she attempted to rock her hips against his member, succeeding only once before he brought a hand to hold her hips down as well.  

 

With a deep whine, she bit her lip to keep from begging him to let her relieve some of the pressure she had been building within herself for months.  

 

He traced around her pucked brown nipples for a bit longer before slapping her other nipple with his free hand.  “What do you need, witch?  What do you need to stop you from squirming against me so?”

 

“Please, please let me move,” she pleaded, feeling the acute absence of any touch lower than her ribs.  

 

“But you are moving pet, your back is arching, demanding more attention from me, your thighs are squeezing around my hips even if I won’t let you move your own, and your head won't stay still, shifting back and forth.”

 

She groaned deeply trying to move through the tight grip he had on her left hip. 

 

“Uh, uh, uh, pet, words, use that brilliant brain of yours and tell me, explicitly, what you need.”

 

As if a light had been turned back on in her mind Hermione’s eyes snapped open once again.  With his permission the fog that was Draco shifted slightly, the moment turning a bit sharper as she took in his domineering smirk. 

 

With a coyness she will later blame on the seemingly spacy but entirely deviant Luna, she whispered, “I need you to run your hands and mouth over every inch of my body.  I want to know what your hands, your mouth, your tongue feel like dripping over me.  I want to feel what this delicious member hiding in your pants can do to my soddening, swollen pussy.  I want to feel ravished and that at least one of the many fantasies I have created in my over-imaginative and much too lonely mind over the past year have conjured.”

 

“Fuck, pet, such a good girl, using your words.  Tell me, baby, what’s the first fantasy that comes to mind? Hmm?”

 

Losing steam Hermione stared at Draco wide-eyed for a moment before finally mumbling, “havingyouridingmefrombehindandpullingmyhair.”

 

Bringing his nose back up to her neck and nipping at her ear lobe, Draco encouraged her to try again slower this time.  

 

“Please, please ride me hard from behind sir, please pull my hair and fuck me into this small, single mattress while I wail at being filled by your seed because you will fill me up won’t you sir, you will make sure I always have you dripping out of me?”

 

He dropped his head down to the crook of her shoulder whispering obscenities against her skin and breathing deeply for a few moments.  As he tried to regain his composure she could no longer ignore the desire to run her hands up his bareback and through his shoulder-length hair.  

 

“Just, just, please let me do this,” she whispered as she carded her fingers through his hair, luxuriating in the fine strands that slipped through her fingers like silken threads of almost luminescent gold.  

 

Clearing his throat he brought his head back up to drop his forehead to hers.  With eyes closed he continued, “The other day,” he swallowed thickly, “the other day when you bent over to pick up that Merlin-forsaken nick nack you dropped.  Salazar witch, that day I knew the very first thing I had to do was taste you.  But calling me sir like that, begging me to cover you with my mouth and seed, I have no reason to deny you, baby.”

 

With that he kissed her forehead for a moment before sliding his body down her own slowly, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses in his wake until he settled into the warm, awaiting valley of her inner thighs.  

 

She propped herself up on her elbows and allowed herself to watch him watching her.  Her chest was heaving in anticipation of the sensations she just knew he would provoke in her.  The moment he blew a cold strip along her steaming skin she dropped her head back.  

 

“Fuck,” she murmured.  If he could garner this reaction from that alone she may not survive this encounter.  

 

Lifting her head back up when he ceased movement below, she found him watching, waiting for her to look back at him, “no more teasing, I think little witch.  You have done that enough for the both of us, hmm?”

 

With that he whispered a slicing hex against her thin lace knickers and felt them peel away at the seams.  She shifted her hips further into the mattress and opened her legs wide enough for her feet to hang off the sides of the double bed.  

 

She squealed as he sent her ripped knickers into her mouth, gagging her and her chest bloomed a deep red as she felt her own essence leak onto the bed.  

 

“One more adjustment, I think, pet,” he added as he took the nightshirt he ruined, transfigured it into two simple silk cords, and magicked her hands against the posts of the bed.  Hermione laid there for a moment huffing as she had been unceremoniously shoved onto her back to restrain her hands on either side of her. 

 

“Whaa tt wrrcc,” she protested then concluded cursing him in her own head when she realized her knickers did a fine job of muffling her damnation of his actions.  

 

“I plan on driving you so fully out of your mind, baby, that that gag will only be there to keep you from saying something you could regret,” he winked at her as she strained her neck to glare down at him.  

 

However, all thoughts of frustration of the non-sexual kind and the quiet internal reminder that she could liberate herself from this position at any moment were quickly run out of her mind with the first swipe of his tongue from her tight puckered hole to her extended nub.  

 

As Draco’s tongue lazily circled her clit she felt his fingers tracing her inner lips, sliding into the first knuckle of her walls and then darting back out. 

 

“Your soaked, pet, completely ready for whatever I may do to you tonight, aren’t you?”

 

Hermione was ready to agree to jump off a cliff for Draco if it meant he kept speaking into her cunt like that.  

 

With a deep gasp she felt his tongue dip back down to her entrance and suck hard causing her walls to shiver in delight.  Whatever this man was doing to her nether regions her body had no objections.  

 

With a final, loud, slurp his lips returned to her clit as he finally entered one thick finger into her clenching core.  She felt his tongue swirling quickly then slower around her clit as his finger worked in and out of her lazily.  Hermione’s hips were gyrating slightly against the gentle movements against her quim but suddenly jerked up when he entered with a second finger and bit down on her clit at the same time.  As worked up as she had been prior to this moment, she was unsurprised that she was already ready to leap off the abyss of pleasure into territories unknown.  

 

With a gasp as he flicked his tongue faster against her clit, fingers working quickly within her walls, she felt the first erratic flutters but then Draco pulled back. 

 

She flipped her head up to look down at the damned smirk that got her into this mess in the first place.  

 

“Whhhhh?” she tried to question as his thumb replaced his tongue lazily rubbing around her clit but not touching it directly until she felt her walls settle down once more. 

 

With slow horror she realized he meant to deny her release.  She immediately began to shake her head rapidly, feeling her eyes go wide as she tried to communicate how much she needed, how much she longed for blessed relief.

 

With another nip to her clit that had her clenching every available muscle, he answered her silent pleas, “I think you forget, darling, who is in charge here.  And this sweet little pussy, gushing and waiting for release from my willing mouth, has been taunting my waking and sleeping thoughts for much too long now.”

 

Hermione felt herself shiver at his words, knowing that no matter how much she wanted to come, once he finally let up, she may very well be reduced to a pile of sweaty, mindless flesh.  And how many times had she fucked herself alone at night with the help of one of her muggle sex toys while she imagined Draco taking her so close to the edge, only to let up at the last moment?

 

With a final high pitched groan she threw her head back down on the bed, neck already feeling sore from the effort it took to hold it up without the use of her elbows.  However, that was quickly forgotten as he latched onto her clit again, fingers scissoring into her core, as he started her climb to the top with swift figure eights, thick digits, and a deep massage of her inner clit.  

 

She was sobbing, she was sure of it, and begging through her knickers to “please, please please, let me come,” as he brought her to the edge for the 4th time.  She was certain he would back off again this time, however before she could prepare herself for the loss of her ascent into oblivion her knickers were suddenly plucked out of her opened mouth and her wrists were freed from their restraints. 

 

She quickly brought one hand to her nipple and the other found his head working feverishly against the hood of her clit.  He knew how sensitive she was if he were to latch onto the actual nub once more while his fingers deliciously shifted against her inner walls.  

 

“Godric,” she ground out.  Finally, her mind received the final signals of pleasure jumping and skipping from nerve ending to nerve ending as they tightened her nipples, pebbled her skin from neck to ankles, toes clenching on their own against the mattress.  Finally with an almighty bellow of “Draco!” into the abyss of pleasure she jumped arms wide open as her body convulsed.  She felt herself spraying Draco with more come than she knew she was ever able to produce.  

 

She felt her body continue to shake as her conscious mind floated above her and Draco.  She could see the dark hunger in his eyes as he continued to lightly lap at her quivering quim and the light jerks he made every now and then against the mattress to relieve his own pressure.  

 

She watched the way his back muscles shifted as his hands continued to work against her spent walls and watched the utter bliss her entire body was displaying against the mattress beneath him.  With deep gulping breaths she realized she was coming back to herself, eyes darting around as she realized she was staring back at the ceiling, chest still rising and falling rapidly, muscles she didn’t even realize she had still twitching.  

 

With a loud cry, Draco sucked on her clit one last time before sliding up her sweat-slicked skin.    

 

He licked his lips over her with a satisfied grin on his face.  Absently she considered how he was simply missing the cat ears and tail to complete the ‘cat that got the cream’ look. 

 

Biting her lip to avoid laughing at her own nonsensical thoughts while his very hard member was pressed against her quivering abdomen she very slowly brought her shaking hand up to his face.  She wiped a bit of her release off his face and without thought brought her fingers to her mouth, tasting herself and let out a vulgar moan. 

 

The surprise at her actions is reflected back in his comically widened eyes.  A moment later, however, he attached to her mouth without a word and she groaned tasting more of the essence she drenched his mouth and hands in.  

 

As she felt him begin to pull away, she attempted to chase her mouth with his own, not ready to abandon his lips yet.   With a short ‘tsk’ and rise of his perfect brow, he sat back on his knees, bent her knees up in front of him, then grabbed firmly onto her hips and turned her 180 degrees.  

 

Landing with a huff, face first, into the semi-fluffy pillow she barely has a moment to get her arms under her to shift her head up before she feels his whole body covering her own.  

 

“You look so perfect like this, pet.  This delicious arse begging for attention,” he murmurs as he begins to gather her hair into a ponytail.  Whispering a quiet centralized sticking charm she feels his hand caress her scalp once, twice, then he tugs her pony sharply, forcing her neck to arch back, eyes ceiling bound, as his lips find the back of her neck and behind her ear with sharp nips and licks. 

 

She shouldn’t be able to want more after the ridiculous orgasm he pulled from her, but she feels her lips humping the very flat mattress below her, quietly sobbing for more. 

 

“Please, please, please, I need you, please,” she whimpered as he twisted her ponytail, wrapping it around his hand tightly, showering her neck and upper shoulders with kisses and open-mouthed suction.  

 

She mewled loudly when she felt him latch onto the skin right next to her shoulder blade and to the side of her spine, sucking hard and fast and feeling immense pleasure in knowing her back will be just as marred as her front with signs of him .  

 

“Nooooo,” she cried out when he reduced the pressure on her hair and she felt the warmth of him on her back and arse pull away.  

 

“There, there, love, I am not going far, not with this wonderful offering so ready for my palm,” he whispers above her moments before she feels the first sharp sting of his palm against her arse. 

 

Her whole body seized under the onslaught of that single spanking and she hunched her shoulders in as she felt the after effects gallop immediately to her center.  

 

“They say only bad girls get spanked,” clap “but I think when a beautiful pet has been especially well behaved,” clap, clap, soothe, “a spanking can be just as valuable a reward as a punishment,” clap, clap, soothe , clap, clap “Hmm love?  Do you feel like I am rewarding you with this,” squeeze, soothe, clap, clap, clap

 

Hermione arched her back in response, arse presented as much as possible to his calloused palms as they proceeded through a rhythm of his lascivious words, hard claps, loving rubs, and fingers dipping into her overflowing core.  Her mouth is opened wide gasping for air against the rough fabric of the sheets, having shifted off the pillow entirely as she squirmed and writhed below him. 

 

As each slap came down the sensations dispersed up and down her body, sending mixed signals of pleasure, pain, yes and no, to her overwrought mind giving her no other option but to feel.  

 

When he slapped her harder this time, between the crease of her arse and upper thigh she stretched out, head lifting off the mattress for the first time, back fully arched, giving most yogis a run for their money as he demanded an answer from her. 

 

Through the groans, slaps, and moans, she sobbed out, “yes, yes so good, please, please, please.”  As she sobbed through her answer she prayed to Merlin it was appropriate for whatever he had previously asked of her.  It won’t be until later that she can tell you with startling clarity what words his sultry, demanding tone was creating as he spanked her bottom red. 

 

She didn’t care.  Right now, right now she just knew her body demanded more of whatever he wanted to give her even as he finally seemed to ease back. 

 

Taking the opportunity to catch her breath she turns her head to the side both for ease of fresh air and to try and catch a glimpse of what he could be preparing to do to her next. 

 

However, her attempt to sneak a glance is thwarted by his large hand shifting her gaze back to the mattress barely grounding her to this worldly plane.  Dragging his hand down her back, he gripped her arse cheeks and spread them apart.    

 

She knew he would be needing release soon and hoped, for all that was holy and pure, that now would be that time. 

 

Alas, instead of feeling his cock rubbing against her screaming sex, she felt cool air followed by three sharp slaps against her lips and overused clit. 

 

“Aaaaccckghhhhhh,” Hermione convulsed on the bed, body spasming at the sudden orgasm that bloomed through her.  “Such a delicious kitten, coming for me with barely a thought.  How much does your pussy want my hard cock, Hermione,” he choked above her as she finally, finally feels his velvet heat and leaking tip sliding along her inner lips, coating himself with her offered elixir.  

 

“Slowly, here we go, baby, hold on tight because I am probably bigger than most you’ve had before,” he whispers cockily as he slowly enters her still fluttering walls.  She feels her body greedily accepting every centimeter he gives her, grasping him tight and with a fervor she never felt with Ron.  

 

With a shake of her forehead against the mattress, she dislodged that train of thought from her mind immediately as she focused once again at the sheer size of this man.  

 

Finally she feels his hips snug against her and he’s running his hands up and down her arse and lower back, murmuring, “Such a bewitching woman, so perfect for me.  How long have I dreamt of having you in any way, Hermione Granger?  You are mine, mine for now, mine when we return to Britain, and for every day thereafter.”

 

“Mmmm, yours, yes, yes, and your mine, mine you hear Draco Malfoy,” Hermione managed through the fog of finally, yes, and mine bouncing in her lust-filled mind.  

 

With a final kiss to her upper back, he shifted his hips, moving within her without pulling out more than a smidge and she saw stars as he brought her hips up higher.  She tried to lift her upper body up with her pudding-like arms, but he gently pushed her back down on the bed.  

 

“I promise you will prefer this angle baby.  Don’t worry, you’ll be able to see what I am doing to you soon.”

 

He concludes this final statement with a final shallow thrust into her pussy before he begins to pull out, feeling the walls of her sex sucking tight to keep him in and then rejoicing as he joins himself with her fully once again.  

 

She is a mindless heap of sensations and noise moaning out her pleasure in various pitches and sounds, creating new languages and altering known ones, as he plays her body expertly.  

 

“Aghhhhhhh,” Hermione huffed out as he gripped her ponytail once again, wrapping her long hair around his hand a time or two, she cannot tell without looking, before slowly forcing her neck back once again.  

 

For a single moment in time, she sends a reminder to her later self to ask him what spell he used that kept her hair in place through all these rigorous activities before he abandoned his gentle thrusting to pound into her from behind.  

 

He has a hand on her hip helping him along, but it’s really his sharp grip on her hair that's helping him keep pace with their heartbeats.  

 

“You close baby?” She thinks she hears from somewhere above her and she swears it's raining as she feels droplets of water falling against her arse and dripping down her overheated back.  

 

Unsure if she is capable of responding or not she attempted to nod yes, but with her hair firmly wrapped up behind her she pounded into the mattress a few times to clear her head enough to speak discernable English.  

 

Through his never-ending thrusts, the mattress creaking below them, the knocking of the headboard against the wall, and the foreign noises escaping her mouth, Hermione managed some sort of real response.  “Yess, close, but need,” she shook her head as much as he’d allow.  She was close, but she knew if she could just reach below her, it would get her there.  “I’ve never, hunnnnnh.  Never come without touching my clit, Dray,” she finished in a shout as his calloused hand let go of her hip and slapped down on her ass once again. 

 

“Challenge accepted,” she hears him grunt above her as his breathing intensifies and the smattering of raindrops, which she belatedly realized must be sweat, sped up.  

 

Letting go of her hair almost reluctantly she groaned as her head simply drops down like a dead weight.  She has a moment to be thankful there’s a mattress below her because she is certain a head injury would severely diminish the exquisite sensations he is pulling from her abused and libidinous form.  

 

She feels his feet resting beside her knees, which means he must have adjusted himself to squat behind her barely missing a beat in the rhythm he is forcing onto her.  

 

She groaned at this man's sheer strength and single-mindedness to bring them both as much pleasure as possible. 

 

“Merlin, Morgana,” huff, huff, “Godric, Salazar, fuckkkk Jesus Christ, thank youuuuu,” she attempted to whisper to the fates.  She is pretty certain this is not what the great wizards and apparently the muggle religious figure she prayed to wanted when they made names for themselves but she literally could not find it within her to care. 

 

Like a bolt of lightning slamming into her crown and following every nerve pathway down to her core, she felt a deep clenching in this new position. 

 

The head of his cock shifted against her elusive G-spot each time he entered her, just kissing the base of her cervix, and then he's doing this jerky thing with his hips on his way out and she can literally see the night sky behind her closed eyelids.  

 

She is hovering above the mattress, knees barely touching as he holds her hips up in the air to keep them connected, the back of her feet the only full part of her lower body connected to the single bed.  

 

She is floating in space, far above this and yet so very much involved as he rams himself into her once, twice, three times and she sees a light so bright he must have transported her to the inception of the world.  She is crying, chest heaving, even her fingers are quaking.  Gasping for air through her slobbery, choked sobs as her orgasm followed the pathways that the lightning spread through her just moments before.  

 

She feels her mouth quirking into a satisfied smile as she finally hears Draco swearing his own litany of praises, prayers, and indecipherable phrases.  

 

She rides his final thrusts until he finally squeezes her hips so hard she swears she can hear her bones shifting under his hold as he dumps spurt after spurt of evidence within her that this night was not a tease, not a dream, and definitely not a figment of her very capable imagination. 

 

With a final lion-like roar, Draco gives the last of his seed to Hermione’s willing cunt.  

 

She expected, because of the small size of the bed and how very starfish she is currently spread out on it, to feel his weight on top of her as he finally collapsed.  Instead, she feels his attempt to throw himself to his side.  However, rather than land on the small bed, his attempt is followed immediately by a gasp and groan as he slammed onto the floor instead.  

 

“Bloody - fucking - imbeciles - they will hear from me - small bed,” he bemoaned.  

 

She forced her muscles into compliance, shifting to peer over the edge of the bed slowly, trying very hard to hold in the almost obscene laugh that bubbles up.  

 

“No,” he says with one eye open and a finger near her face, “don’t you la-” and she just cannot hold it in anymore.  She lets her head fall off the side of the bed, as she guffaws into the darkness, tears streaming down her face for another reason this time as he tried to sit up. 

 

“I am not sorry, Draco, but that, I mean, who needs post-coitus cuddles when they can have you landing arse over tea kettle instead?”

 

“Who says coitus anymore, curls?” he says, pushing away the curls sticking to her face from their heated activities moments before.  

 

Making it very obvious what she was about to do, Hermione arched her brow at him as she slowly shifted herself off the bed to land directly on top of him.  

 

“Uhmph,” Draco let out as his hands wrap around her middle.  

 

Pressing her forehead to his softly, ceasing his grumbling, she placed her hand against the floor and murmured a cushioning charm of her own making.  “Brightest witch of our age, hmmm?” he whispered, breath fanning against her own as she felt them sink slightly into the pillow-soft floor of the room. 

 

“Mmmm, we could have just charmed the floor and kept a respectable distance between the two of us rather than tried to work with one bed,” she whispered, keeping her eyes closed hoping she wouldn’t see any signs of regret in his own. 

 

What if this was a tussle of convenience for him?  She has been wanting his delicious dick for months, that's true, but she was first attracted to the way he managed and delegated his curse breakers.  She was awed by the way he held himself in meetings and de-briefings.  She was startled by the deep attraction she felt for him in his bespoke muggle suits and the dark-framed glasses he popped onto his nose anytime after 6 pm in the office.  

 

She saw how early he came into the office and how late he would stay, even before she was officially single and arriving and departing on a similar time table.  She hadn’t seen him with another woman long-term regardless of how much the rags speculated on his partners and relationships.  

 

The last time she had seen him with anyone was at the Post-War Gala 5 months ago when he kept close to a short, blonde woman who had a strong germanic accent.  What if they were still together, he seemed private enough, it could be true.  Oh gosh, what if she has been deluding herself and she was just a diversion, willing, and able, with the way she had been throwing herself at him.  Oh Merlin, the amount of trollop-like behavior she had dumped on him.  

 

Wrapping his arms around her tighter and squeezing, she felt her back crack once as he interrupted her growing doubts.  

 

“Granger,” he said.  She felt tears gather behind her eyelids and wanted to curse herself for ruining this moment by crying after the mind-blowing, existential joining the two of them experienced together.  

 

“Hermione,” he said softer this time, running a hand up and down her back, running his fingers slowly up each notch of her spine and ladder of her ribs.  With his soft ministrations and the plea that was quietly peeking out when he said her name she steeled herself and opened her eyes to look down at him. 

 

“Do you think I would be laying on this floor, cushioned or not, holding you tightly to me if I wanted to be literally anywhere else right now or ever again?”

 

Hermione darted her eyes between his own before letting out an embarrassingly wet chuckle and proceeding to kiss him softly.  

 

With a few final pecks of his following lips, she shifted to attempt to stand.  Laughing at his firm grip of her hips, “I was just going to suggest we clean up a bit before we try and get some real sleep tucked as closely as we can on that absurdly small bed.  We do have a conference to attend early tomorrow.”

 

“Real close you say?  You mean, no pillow barrier?” he responded cheekily as he finally let her go and followed her into the small bathroom. 

 

With a whispered spell she shut herself into the shower, alone, knowing no good could come from sharing the tiny shower space with him if she wanted to have even a semblance of real rest in his arms tonight.  


“Like this?” Draco murmured against her ear as he unzipped her smart Versace deep green knee-length dress.  

 

“Mmmm,” she moaned against his light nippings and luxuriated in his lips' decline from her neck down to her exposed back.  She felt him sucking at the same love bite he had left adorning her shoulder blades last night and had to lock her knees tight.  

 

She had intentionally chosen this dress because the back stopped at just below her shoulder blades and she knew if she deigned to shift her hair to the side during the day, she would expose the evidence of their nightly activities proudly.  Something that had Draco hard as a rock behind her while he was supposed to be zipping up the garment in question.  

 

“Draco, we have 10 minutes, you already made me miss complimentary breakfast by insisting on a second shower that lasted well beyond your promised 15 minutes,” she tried for strict but came out mostly wanton. 

 

Finally, she felt the dress zip behind her and he turned her slowly to face him.  He took her hands in his, calloused fingers running along them before placing a kiss on either palm and leaving them on his shoulders.  Pulling her into him he leaned down for a light, heated kiss before he stepped back.  Running a hand through his ridiculously manageable hair he held his elbow out in a silent request to escort her down. 

 

Hermione’s hand found her mouth, trapping the girlish giggle within as her fingers tapped her slightly swollen lips as she looked at the boyish grin adorning his usually stoic face.  With a smile of her own, she looped her arm through his own and leaned against him slightly as they left the room that blessed them with this moment.  

 

As the elevator dinged open to the main lobby once again Draco led Hermione towards the conference area.  

 

However, just a few steps away from the elevators, Hermione noticed a tall, distinguished-looking, gentleman, walking directly towards them with a gentle, yet businesslike smile.  He had dark hair, cropped close to the sides and a bit longer on the top, tousled with streaks of silver and as he stopped in front of them a genuine smile graced his face, causing a single dimple to appear on his right cheek. 

 

Fighting the urge to respond in kind to this complete stranger, Hermione stood a bit taller as she raised an eyebrow at the man who had yet to say anything but continued to stare directly at her.  

 

She felt Draco shift slightly next to her probably preparing to intercept this man’s obvious desire to interact with her before the man finally spoke. 

 

“Ms. Hermione Granger, we at Conservatorium Hotel are so pleased, so thankful to see you, such a distinguished member of the Wizarding World, taking advantage of our facilities.” He gushed as he grabbed her free hand and raised it, knuckles up, towards his mouth, leaving a proper kiss just inches from her skin before letting her hand drop slowly back down. 

 

“Mr. Draco Malfoy, our deepest thanks as well to you and the many advances your team has made from the British Ministry in Curse Breaking.”  She felt Draco bow his head to the man in turn before he turned back to her.  

 

“When I caught wind that you two arrived yesterday I took the liberty of making sure you were well taken care of by our concierge team.  I was immediately startled to discover the severe oversight my hotel has made towards the both of you and took your complaint of the concierge attendant that was on duty yesterday most seriously, Ms. Granger.” He concluded, face as serious as his tone. 

 

“Right, well thank you very much, I am not one to complain simply for the sake of complaining but regardless of who I am no one should be made to feel as unwelcome as she did to the two of us.  And I am sorry, you seem to have us at a disadvantage, Mr.--”

 

“Right you are, my name is Count Cornelis Van Limburg Stirum, Director and Owner of this beautiful hotel and the larger Set Hotels in this sector of the world.”

 

At that moment Hermione’s gaze was drawn to the horrid woman from the day before walking out of a side office, a box tucked tightly against her chest, and fresh tears streaming down her face.  

 

Hermione was surprised she didn’t feel an ounce of sadness at this woman’s departure knowing she gave her ample opportunities to treat her like an equal the night before.  

 

Following her gaze Count Cornelis Van Limburg Stirum interrupted her thoughts as the woman’s eyes caught sight of the three of them, a dark glare entering her puffy, red eyes.  “Don’t mind, Ms. Karin van Dijk.  This is not the first time we have received a complaint due to her handling of paying patrons.  Unfortunately, yours was simply the final tick,” he finished with a flourish of his hand. 

 

“I can’t speak for Hermione, but I am glad to see such quick, fair action be taken then, regardless of who we are.”

 

“Exactly,” he agreed with Draco, “In addition to confirming your complaints were heard and - addressed as you can see - here is the key to the two penthouse suites located on the top floor of this wonderful hotel.  Not only are they rich in size and amenities, but you will find the architecture both from the original Dutch architect Daniel Knuttel as well as our most recent changes made by the amazing Milan-based Piero Lissoni, will stun you both into returning.  We, again, apologize deeply for having you stay in such a small space last night.  We had more than enough space to accommodate and follow the reservations your Ministry did in fact make correctly prior to your arrival.”

 

Hermione glanced from the luxurious-looking keys to Draco’s drawn brows before she turned back to Count Cornelis Van Limburg Stirum, “Count Va--”

 

“Please call me Cornelis,” with a forced smile she continued.  

 

“Cornelis, I am so glad to hear that the error was not on our ends as our administrative staff was going to receive quite the missive this morning.  However,” she brought her free hand to grasp Draco’s in an obvious gesture of intimacy, “We found the single room quite illuminating last night on quite a few points and wouldn’t mind staying there to avoid any trouble.”

 

With an amused quirk of his lips Draco gave Hermione such a heated look she felt it transferring down her neck and into her professional neckline.  

 

With a chuckle Cornelis slowly left the keys within their joined grasp.  

 

“We insist.  Consider it an opportunity to explore these ‘illuminating’ discoveries and perhaps, with all the space available to you now you’ll be able to find a few other discoveries your room last night could not afford.”

 

Leaving them without a response he turned with a final smile at them but stopped a few paces away.  Turning with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “No one but the two of you, and staff at appropriate times, have access to the final floor of the hotel during your stay here Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy.  The two suites also face each other, so we would not frown upon a consenting open door policy.”

 

Clutching her ribs as an incredulous laugh left her lungs Hermione looked up at Draco.  Not giving a wit who saw she rose up on her pumps to give him a quick kiss on his amused lips.  


Breathe in, Breathe out.  In and out, come on Granger.  Open the damned door.  

 

Hermione was stuck, bare feet glued to the softest rug she had ever felt, facing the door of her Penthouse Suite.  Cornelis had not been exaggerating when he said the architecture alone was worth the time spent up here.  Although she would always have a soft spot for that tiny room 24 floors below, she had not worked so hard in her life and risen as she had to accept the conditions they were forced into last night for their whole stay. 

 

Shaking herself from her irrelevant thoughts Hermione berated herself again for her cowardice.  

 

He has already seen you naked Granger.  He had you begging, slobbering, and sobbing under him and he still wanted more this morning.  You can do this.  You don’t need to lust after him from afar anymore. 

 

Squaring her shoulders, Hermione took a final deep breath in and let it out as she ran her hands down the seam of the sheer Slytherin green night robe she had draped over her nude form.  Making a final, devious decision, she ‘ accio’d ’ her matching green stilettos, slipping them on before adjusting the high ponytail she had styled her hair into.  

 

Knowing he wouldn’t buy her innocent look for even a moment, she simply allowed the anticipation of seeing him again overwhelm her before she finally clicked the handle down and slowly swung the door open. 

 

With wide eyes, she was surprised but thankful to see his door open in tandem.  Taking a second to reconsider her decision as she took in his shirtless chest and low hanging pants she spelled her door open, gave him the most ‘come hither’ look she could muster without ever having practiced it before, tugged the bow of her robe lose, and turned her back to him. 

 

With a sway of her hips, she walked to the deep grey couch she had left in the direct line of the door, letting the robe slink down her shoulders and back before finally turning back around to him.  

 

She watched as he stalked from his door, this time no interruptions from Harry, memo’s, or other office staff, as she sat, totally nude with the robes resting at her wrists, on the couch and spread her legs wide for him. 

 

“Fuck Granger,” he groaned, prowling into her room.  Like the first time she had opened her door across the hall from his own she gave him one final view of her needy lips before crossing her legs as he slammed and locked her door shut.  

 

She squealed excitedly as he bent down, tossed her over his shoulder, and walked them to the balcony of her room. 

 

“I am so glad you kept your office door open, baby,” he said as he placed her down with her back to his front surrounded by the warm Amsterdam air.  Draco spelled her hands to the banister on either side of them as they took a moment to enjoy the brilliance that was Amsterdam from these rooms. 

 

“Me too,” she moaned as he proceeded to ravish her with the lights and wicked sounds of Amsterdam quickly blotted out by their own form of magic.