Work Text:
Hermione Granger sighed and sat back in her seat. It had been a long day of meetings and paperwork, and yet somehow, she still wasn’t close to done. She knew taking on the position as Head of the Department of International Cooperation would include a heavy workload, but this was ridiculous.
She nearly fell over after a glance at the clock, realizing the time was almost 8:30 pm and she was still stuck in her office. There was no doubt she was probably the only person left in the entire building outside of the few security wizards sulking through the hallways. At this point, they were so used to her office light still being on that they ignored her. Hermione even knew a few of their names.
Stretching as she stood up, Hermione waved her wand at the mess on her desk. She watched as paperwork landed in its respective folders as the interoffice memos folded themselves up into paper airplanes and flew off to their targeted offices for her coworkers to receive in the morning. It was second nature to her now, but she still enjoyed observing her magic as it crackled through the air.
Once her work was finally cleared, Hermione glimpsed the large calendar laid across the left side of her oak desk, only to freeze when she caught sight of the date.
It was Election Day, and the polls had closed thirty minutes ago.
She let out a loud, frustrated groan, falling back into her seat as she dug her palms into her eyes. How could she be so stupid? Of all elections to accidentally forget to vote, it had to be this one. It was in this cycle that an important amendment to old— and extremely outdated—wizarding laws was up for debate. A group of pureblooded women, led by Pansy Parkinson, had been campaigning hard for it for weeks about now. It would be a small step, but if the amendment passed, witches would gain the right to write up their own marriage contracts without the presence of a paternal figure.
Hermione was entirely behind it. She had even given Pansy suggestions as to what the advocacy group should tackle next. This new law had the potential to have a domino effect, setting the stage for future reforms.
Therefore, this election was essential. Every vote mattered, and she had been so wrapped up in her work that she had forgotten to exercise her civic duties.
Standing back up, she hiked up her bag on her shoulder, turning the lights off with a flick of her wand. After locking her office, she sulkily made her way through the corridors of the Ministry and out to the apparition point. Twisting in her spot, she landed hard in the middle of her living room, causing the two occupants lazily sprawled across her couch to startle.
Draco Malfoy sat up quickly at her sudden appearance, causing Crookshanks, who had been lounging on the blond’s stomach, to jump and run out of the room, sending Hermione a glare of ignition on his way. Meanwhile, the man still on the couch only stared at her in confusion as she threw her bag across the room, kicked her shoes off, and marched directly to the loo, where she proceeded to very loudly take her irritation at herself out on every object she touched. Bottles rattled and slammed against the counter as she muttered under her breath, mindlessly moving through the room.
“Everything alright, love?”
She whipped her head around to find striking grey eyes looking at her, full of concern. She let her shoulders drop as he stepped forward to pull her into his chest, resting his chin on top of her head. She buried her face into his warmth and let out a frustrated sob.
“I’m so bloody stupid,” she muttered against his shirt.
“That’s entirely incorrect, but please elaborate.” His voice was soft but encouraging.
“I—um—forgot to mmmhm…” Hermione mumbled the last part, not willing to admit her misdeeds.
“Sorry, you did what?” He pulled himself back from their hug to stare down at her. Hermione avoided his attempted eye contact, turning her head towards the wall and away from him. Apparently, Draco did not like this, using his index and middle fingers to lift her chin, forcing her to look at him.
“Hermione, what did you do?”
“I forgot to go vote,” she finally admitted quietly. “I got so caught up in paperwork and projects that the time got away from me, and I forgot to go vote.”
The last part slipped out like a whine as she was once again filled with annoyance and embarrassment over forgetting to do something she had personally advocated for. Turning towards the sink, she rested both hands against the counter and leaned forward, examining her reflection in the mirror. She looked exhausted and frustrated, with her eyes now red and raw from the repeated rubbing of her palms into them as she had attempted to stop the headache threatening to rear its ugly head.
She huffed out a sigh and met Draco’s eyes in the mirror. He stood with his head slightly cocked, wearing a slightly bemused expression indicating she needed to explain further.
“It was my own fault, I should have set a reminder or paid closer attention to the time. I decided to stay late because I was behind on my paperwork from today. Then I had a meeting that lasted well past when scheduled all because Cormac McLaggen decided to make his unpleasant self known and spoke over me at every turn.”
“That idiot again?” Draco growled, his hatred of the man well known.
“Yes, unfortunately. As a result of his ridiculousness, my other meetings all had to be pushed back and by the time I was finally out of those, it was half-past twelve. I did eat at the very least, but only a blueberry muffin I snatched from the cart over by Harry’s office where I spent thirty minutes trying to convince him to attend that international conference with me next month. My entire afternoon and evening was then consumed with just trying to sort out the issues McLaggen caused on top of my own work.”
“Hermione, why are you fixing McLaggen's mistakes?” Draco tilted his head in disappointment. “Why did you not force him to stay in the office late to deal with his own fuck ups?”
“You know how it is,” she began hesitantly.
“No,” Draco interrupted. “I do not know how it is. You are that halfwit’s boss. You are well within your right to make him stay late and finish his own work.”
“But—”
“But nothing, love,” the blond scolded. “You have let that insufferable git walk all over you too many times. How often do you come home and complain about him, only to turn around and allow his behavior to continue? It’s no wonder he treats you with absolutely no respect.”
“Draco, I am trying,” Hermione threw up her hands as she let her irritation slip out. “Every day, I am forced to listen to unwarranted opinions and unsolicited advice from people who don’t even know what they’re talking about, yet I am required to hear them out and be kind lest Rita Skeeter and her merry band of reporters label me a bitch or a cunt in the morning paper. The slightest slip of my tongue and there is nothing but bad press for weeks. At the end of the day, I want nothing more than to scream, but that does no one any good. Sometimes it really is just easier to do the work myself, because at least I know that it is getting done correctly.”
Her hair was sparking and her breathing heavy by the end of her rant. She had half a mind to carry on, but then remembered why she was upset in the first place, and within seconds deflated.
“But today, that caused me to forget to vote for something very dear to me. Honestly, I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” she finished softly.
“No Granger, we aren’t going to do that. This oversight is something we must discuss..” Draco’s was soft and deep, with a hint of something Hermione couldn’t quite place. She watched his face in the mirror as it transformed, taking on a contemplative expression.
“Whatever do you mean? I said I don’t want to talk about—” Hermione turned to face him, eyes widening as he pulled his green work tie off slowly, causing the collar of his white button-up shirt to pop up around his neck. Her throat went dry, she knew what that action meant.
“Such a bad feminist, Ms. Granger…looks like you'll have to be punished.” As he spoke, he pulled her forward roughly, bringing their bodies flush.
"Oh..." Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at her fiancé with wide eyes. He was a full head taller than her, and their close proximity resulted in her neck bending just past a 45-degree angle.
"May I help you," his breath ghosted her ear, "understand exactly what you have done wrong today, Ms. Granger?”
She nodded, her head jerking unsteadily.
“Strip to your undergarments and meet me in our room. We will continue this conversation there.”
“Yes, sir.” Her eyes had widened even farther at the intensity of his tone. It left no room for arguments.
With that, he released her, stepping into the hall and heading back towards the living room leaving Hermione to watch him walk away with bated breath. Draco’s movements were relaxed and languid, the exact opposite from how she felt as her heart rate doubled. Snapping herself out of her daze, she quickly followed his instructions, peeling off her simple grey blouse and unzipping the pencil skirt hugging her hips. After shimmying the fabric down her body, she kicked it carelessly to the side.
Now stripped down to a simple but attractive black lingerie set, Hermione set off in the opposite direction of Draco’s departure, her anxiety steadily increasing with each step towards the door of their bedroom. Anticipation bloomed in her chest as her thoughts raced, imagining what Draco may have planned for her.
Once inside, she glanced around slowly. Draco hadn’t clarified where he expected her to wait. After contemplating for a minute, she decided to stand next to the dresser that was directly in line with the door, leaning against the wall with her arms resting at her side and facing the rest of the room, eyes downcast.
It wasn’t long before she heard the tell-tale sound of the knob turning, announcing Draco’s arrival. His steely eyes shone in the dark room, appraising her lecherously as he softly closed the door behind him. He still held his tie in his hand and most of the buttons on his shirt were undone, revealing his porcelain skin and defined chest. Placing the tie in his back pocket, he stalked towards her slowly. Hermione felt her stomach twist in anticipation at the slight curl of his lips.
Draco stopped his advancement only a hair’s breadth away from her waiting body. She felt as if gravity was pulling them together, and she wanted nothing more than to lean forward, just enough to feel his skin against her fingertips. However, the threatening gleam in his eye telling her his every intention to discipline her as promised prevented her from doing so.
“Tell me now, Granger, what is it that I’m punishing you for again?”
“I forgot to vote, sir.”
Draco stepped forward and, using his hips, shoved her against the dresser, causing the edge of the wood to dig into her hip hard. He began running his teeth lightly along her chin, down her neck until he reached her collarbone. When he nipped at a particularly sensitive spot, he chuckled softly as she jumped, trying her hardest not to let a noise escape her mouth without permission.
“And what was the subject of the vote you so carelessly neglected?” He let his hands run down her sides, skimming along the outside of her thighs. Though Hermione tried to suppress the urge to shudder, her body was not cooperating with her brain. Draco dug his nails into her thighs.
“An amendment to the 18th Century Wizarding Code of Marriage Conduct. Legally, witches have been required to have the Head of their House present when a contract was written. This amendment will both allow and empower witches to write up their own marriage contracts without the presence or permission of their paterfamilias,” she gasped as Draco drew his hand from her thigh and slapped her clothed mound hard, the stimulation stinging through the fabric of her knickers right to her core.
“And why is this change so important?” He moved his hand against her slowly, pushing the heel of his palm over her clit with practiced precision.
“It would result in increased bodily autonomy for witches everywhere.”
“That’s right, kitten, and who decides what you do with this perfect body?” Draco slid his fingers up her front, grazing her stomach with fairy-light touches. He continued his path through the valley between her breasts, then further as his fingers slipped just slightly under her bra straps.
“I do.”
“Good girl.”
Draco stepped back, flipping them both around and settling himself atop the wooden dresser in one fluid motion. Hermione watched, settled between his legs, as he reached slowly into the back pocket of his trousers to retrieve his tie. After pausing for a beat as she nodded her permission, he brought the tie up to her face, fastening it around her eyes. Hermione’s body tingled as her vision went dark and she smiled softly.
Then she felt his hand tangle in her hair and pull. Hard.
“I see that little grin of yours.” He whispered against her lips. “Don’t think you’re getting out of being punished just yet,” he paused. “We’re going to have a little lesson.”
Hermione felt his hand from the tangled knot of her hair, brushing against her skin until he stopped, his fingers enclosing themselves around her neck tightly. She tried to gasp, the pressure on her throat preventing her ability to take a deep breath. The combined lack of sight and oxygen sent Hermione into an increased state of desire, every one of her nerve endings tingling.
“I think, my love, I’ll have you screaming about your hatred for the patriarchy,” Draco remarked, his voice gruff, “and only when I am satisfied that you truly mean it will I let you come.”
Hermione shivered but managed to keep still as he brought his hands down to encircle her wrists. When he pulled at her arms, she complied, lifting them above her head. He bound her wrists together tightly with ropes in an intricate knot and attached them to a separate rope he’d levitated to the ceiling.
“Are you comfortable, Ms. Granger?” Draco inquired in a gentle tone as he slipped a finger under the binds, checking that they weren’t overly tight. Hermione rotated her wrists slightly as she tested their mobility and nodded in confirmation. She didn't have to see him to know he was probably smirking.
She heard a whisper of magic and instantly there was a tug against her breasts that she recognized and her eyes rolled back when she felt the sharp pinch against her nipples that sent a wave of desire through her body. Hermione almost wished she could see Draco’s face, as she was certain his eyes would be electric as he attached his favorite silver chains to her chest. Pushing the cups of her bra to the side, he clamped the silver clips firmly and Hermione arched her back in pleasure as Draco tugged gently, testing the security of the chains, earning her a firm backhanded to her stomach in reprimand. Hermione whined softly at the sting.
“No movement unless I say so,” he commanded.
“Yes, sir, I apologize.”
“Today, there is going to be a pop quiz, Ms. Granger.” Draco’svoice took on a lecturing tone as he pushed her legs apart. “It appears that you need a refresher on the importance of your civic duties and the history behind it.”
Hermione’s body tensed and held her breath.
“For every incorrect answer, you will receive a single swat of my belt,” Draco continued. “And, don’t try to escape it. Too much movement and...” Draco pulled the chain firmly, using his actions to explain instead of words. “How much can you take?”
Hermione stilled herself, willing her body to be as stiff as a statue. She felt Draco rise from his position on the dresser and the sound of his belt buckle unclasping and sliding from the loops of his trousers was loud in her ears against the silence of the room. She held her breath and stifled the moan that threatened to escape her mouth from the feeling of anticipation building in her chest.
Instantly, Hermione’s mind began to race with the facts she knew of the various local and international feminist movements. She desperately tried to keep her thoughts clear, even as the desire coursing through her veins threatened to make her forget everything she knew.
“Question one.” The sound of Draco's voice sent electricity through her spine. He apparently was circling her, as his voice now came from behind her. “Who was Great Britain's first female Minister of Magic?”
Hermione let out a sigh of relief at the question. This one was easy, but she knew as her arousal grew, his ‘pop quiz’ would become more complex. Even putting aside the presumably increasing difficulty of the questions, her mind would surely blank eventually as he worked her into such a frenzy.
“Artemisia Lufkin. Elected in 1798 and served two terms through 1811.”
Draco’s fingers slipped under her knickers, allowing him to slowly slide the scrap of lace down to her mid-thigh with one hand while he rubbed her core gently with the other.
“Excellent Ms. Granger,” he murmured, “now tell me more about Minister Lufkin. What were her achievements?”
“Minister Lufkin was successful on many fronts; she est-established the Department of International Magical Coop-Cooperation and lobbied hard and successfully to have a Quidditch World Cup tour-tournament held in Britain during her term—ugghh.” Hermione’s speech was broken as Draco increased the pressure against her clit with each word she spoke.
“Outstanding as always, just as if you were quoting a textbook.” Hermione could hear the smirk in his voice. “Moving on, what year did the British Muggle suffrage movement begin?”
Hermione’s mind raced as she searched frantically for the date. She could see the pages of books flashing through her mind, but every stroke of Draco’s fingers on her clit caused the images to stutter and shift.
“1830,” she choked out. Draco’s fingers stilled, and Hermione instantly panicked as she quickly realized her error. “Wait, no, 1832, sir, I’m so sorry, sir, it was 1832. Ma-Mary Smith introduced the first women's suffrage petition to be presented to Parliament. Please, for-forgive me for my mistake. Please, sir!”
Draco withdrew his hand, and Hermione could feel as he took a step away.
“I’m sorry, love, but your first answer was incorrect.”
She heard the whistle of the belt before she felt it. The thin leather strap stung as it landed across her arse cheeks, hard enough to leave a slight welt. Hermione stumbled forward, just barely, and her nipples strained under the pull of the chains as Draco yanked her back into place. She couldn’t contain the moan that fell from her lips as the combination of pleasure and pain overtook every sense she had.
“Now, Ms. Granger, I believe we agreed there was to be no movement on your part unless I so instructed,” Draco whispered in her ear from behind her.
“Yes, sir, I am so sorry, sir.” Hermione nearly sobbed as Draco jerked the silver chain—hard. The tenderness of her nipples was already reaching an unbearable level and the night had just begun. Hermione's mind blanked as another slap across her arse from Draco’s belt echoed through the room, and a small whimper fell from her lips. This time though, she held her ground, refusing to move, lest she angers Draco once again.
“Good, Ms. Granger, so good for me.” Draco rubbed the red skin of her arse softly, soothing the stinging flesh with his gentle motions. “Let’s move on. I believe we were discussing women’s enfranchisement?”
“Yes, sir.”
"Next question, sweetheart. When was the first attempt to amend the Second Reform Bill to grant suffrage to female property holders? And who presented the amendment?"
"That would be John Stuart Mills, sir. In May of 1867." Hermione nearly stumbled over her words in her rush to answer him, determined to get back into Draco’s good graces. She sighed in relief when she felt Draco’s fingers slip back in between her legs.
However, all of her barely there composure was lost as he slid two fingers into her aching core. Hermione did her best to relax her posture, keening as he pushed into her, just to the knuckles. Draco pumped his fingers slowly, angling just enough to hit that spot that almost caused her knees to buckle. With the blindfold still over her eyes, every sensation sent Hermione into a rush of sensory overload and she wondered how it was possible to be so over-stimulated with such little contact.
“Excellent, love,” Draco purred. “A few more questions, and we will move on.”
“Thank you sir, this has been a wo-wonderful refresher,” Hermione replied.
He made a noise of approval as he slowly began moving his fingers in and out of her cunt. The rhythm was leisurely and unhurried and not enough and Draco chuckled at her squirming as he pushed his front against the left side of her body. She nearly forgot herself and begged for him to take her right there when she felt the hard planes of his chest and the outline of his cock against her burning skin. But her arse, still stinging from the two swats of his belt, and the tug of the silver chain on her chest stopped her from disobeying him again.
“Relax, Ms. Granger. Tell me about the two more famous suffragette groups that would later form. What were they known for?”
“Ye-yes, of course," Hermione took a breath and forced herself to keep calm as his fingers dipped into her further and the cool sensation of his rings at her entrance. Determined not to let that distract her, she continued. "In 1897, Milicent Fa-Fawcett established the National Union of Women's Suffrage Societies or the NUWSS. Th-they were known for their peaceful protests, which was a wildly different stance from another organization that was for-formed in 1903. The Women's Social and Political Union, or the WSPU or the Suffragettes as they were famously known, were led by Emmeline Pankhurst and tended to employ violence during their demonstrations.”
"My smart, incredible girl," Draco whispered as he began moving his fingers faster. Adjusting slightly, he brought his left hand around her front and began to tease her clit with firm strokes. Hermione felt a whine slip from the back of her throat and she squirmed as her climax began to build steadily from Draco's ministrations.
"Ms. Granger, what was the significance of The Representation of the People Bill?"
"It—" Hermione choked and fought to keep her thoughts straight as Draco's fingers began to speed up their ministrations. "After its pa-passing in 1918, men over the age of 21 were permitted to vote, alsong with wo-women over the age of—ungh—30 as long as they were married, or—uhmm—a member of the Local Government Register."
"Good girl," Draco cooed in her ear. "Let me hear you now, don't hold back."
Hermione grunted as Draco drove his fingers into her cunt with a new force. Shockwaves echoed through her with a force she didn't know was possible, and she hadn't even orgasmed yet. Slick dripped down her thighs and the wet sounds of her cunt were loud in the quiet room. Each thrust of Draco's hand in her was partnered with a rub of her clit that left Hermione feeling weak and ready to explode.
"Last question, Ms. Granger," Draco nipped her neck gently, "when did women gain full voting enfranchisement?"
"July of 1928." Hermione felt herself speak, but her mind was too far gone to fully comprehend how she managed to respond to his question. Her entire body was screaming with the need to release. "The Representation of the People Act gave all citizens over the age of 21 the right to vote."
"Perfect. Now come for me, Ms. Granger."
At that, Hermione let out a full-bodied scream so loud a distant, coherent part of her mind worried the neighbors might hear.
As Draco's chains pulled at her nipples and the thrill coursed through her with so much power, not a single comprehensible word fell from her lips. Sounds of relief flowed through the room as she became wracked full of pleasure. The waves cresting through her body felt both hot and cold. Her body burned with satisfaction and she wanted to flee as it grew to become too much but the way her muscles spasmed around Draco's fingers locked her in place.
Her body shook violently as he whispered encouraging words of praise into her ear. His fingers continued their movements within her until Hermione slackened, letting the ropes that held her arms support her weight as her head lolled to the side, coming to rest on Draco's chest as he held her tightly.
Draco slipped his fingers out of her and Hermione felt the ropes and chains attached to her disappear with a wave of his hand. Scooping her up into his arms, Draco carried her over to their bed. After laying her down gently, he unwrapped the tie that had been acting as a blindfold, tossing it onto the side table. Hermione blinked several times as her eyes readjusted to the light of the room and looked up at Draco, slightly dazed. She laid there vacantly as Draco stripped her of her bra and knickers, watching as they quickly followed the same path as his tie.
"Are you good to continue, sweetheart?" He ran his hand down her face and cupped her chin with a tender expression crossing his face.
"Yes, I am," She couldn’t help but smile at the smirk forming on her fiancé's face.
"Good." He leaned down and kissed her lightly on her lips before taking a seat on the bed in front of her. He patted his lap so she shakily got on her knees, she crawled to him and across his lap. After making herself comfortable, she turned her head to make eye contact with Draco. He arched an eyebrow, silently asking for permission to continue and she nodded in affirmation.
“Now, Ms. Granger,” Draco played with her cunt slowly, “you were so good for me during today’s pop quiz. Only two swats of my belt and you took them so well. I am very proud of you."
"Thank you, sir, even for the swats. I deserved them."
He hummed in agreement. "Let’s discuss the events of today. You had several meetings, and you let McLaggen speak out of turn, which caused them to run over, is this correct?”
“Ye-yes,” she whimpered, shame coloring her face red.
“What did I say would happen if you let that happen again?”
“That I would be punished, sir.”
“And what do you feel would be an appropriate punishment for such a transgression, my love?”
“Te-ten swats,” she felt herself get wetter..
“Count them.”
Almost instantaneously she felt the sting of his hand against her arse. She jerked slightly, her skin still tender from the swats she’d received from his belt, but managed to comply with his demand.
“One.”
He brought his hand down just slightly harder against the other cheek, causing her to bite the inside of her cheek as she continued her count. Each smack of his palm against her arse created a new sensation as he alternated between sharp slaps that would surely turn her bottom a pretty pink shade and soothing rubs. He took his time, the pain increasing as each slap resonated through her. Hermione could barely breathe from the onslaught of both pleasure and pain.
“Tell me, kitten, would the Pankhursts be proud of you? Allowing this lowly man to walk all over you?”
“I-I don’t know, sir, probably not,” she whispered.
Smack.
"Se-seven."
"It is my understanding that they rioted for the right to vote," Draco coaxed, his voice firm. "Isn't that right?"
"They did, sir, Ms. Pankhurst’s organization was fa-famous for breaking windows and chaining themselves to railings during their demonstrations."
"All in the name of suffrage, correct?" The slap landed hard against her bare cunt this time.
"Eight!" She yelped, jerking forward at the impact of his hand against its new target. "And, yes, sir, all in the name of suffrage. Th-They believed it was the only way to ke-keep the attention of the public."
"Your actions today resulted in you being unable to fulfill the very goal those women fought for. So let me ask again, Ms. Granger." He emphasized her name with another smack to her bum.
"Nine, sir" she said, her voice shaking.
"Would the Pankhursts be proud of you?" He rubbed her gently on her bottom, down to her thighs and back up again as his molten eyes bore into hers. The intensity of his stare left her breathless.”
“No, sir. No, they would not." Draco drew his arm back and brought it down again with more force than the previous spanks.
“Te-ten.” The final slap that sounded through the room was accompanied by a choked sob from Hermione. The tenderness of her skin was bordering on the line of too painful. Had there been another, she was almost certain that she would have had to use her safe word to stop his actions. Draco allowed Hermione to roll back onto the bed, before he stood and grabbed the healing paste from the nightstand.
"On all fours, sweetheart." He unscrewed the cap, and Hermione rushed to flip herself over for him.
Instead of the expected cooling sensation of the soothing paste, Hermione heard the distinct noise of Draco's zipper lowering and his trousers hitting the ground. Before she had the chance to comprehend what was happening, Draco lined the head of his cock at her entrance.
Hermione groaned and arched her back sharply as he pushed into her from behind. The feeling of him stretching her so perfectly was intoxicating. She whimpered when there was a different sensation on her skin and she realized Draco had begun applying the bruise paste to her bum. He alternated between thrusting into her with slow deliberate movements and slathering the cooling paste against her skin. He worked her slowly until Hermione panted against the bed with her head buried into the comforter.
Once he felt there was an appropriate amount of paste on her bum, Draco reapplied the lid on the container and tossed it to the side. Leaning forward, he draped his large frame over hers, thrusting long deep strokes right into her core. Hermione whimpered as his hips skimmed over the top of her arse, the hard angles of his hips digging into the welts from his belt and hand, creating a mixed sensation of more pleasure and pain even as the paste he'd rubbed into her skin began to work.
As Draco picked up the speed of his thrusts, Hermione could see the veins in his arms bulge as they strained from holding his body above her. She moaned as he rocked into that place deep inside of her that made her toes curl. She couldn’t help but stretch her arms and grip his forearms with such ferocity that Draco yelped as her nails dug into his skin. He continued to move his hips with precision, hitting that spot over and over again until Hermione was spluttering explicates as she writhed beneath him.
“So good, my love,” he grunted into her ear, “but you’re not coming just yet.”
Hermione whined and flexed her feet in ignition. She was so close and with each movement of Draco’s hips brought her nearer to the edge.
“Please Draco, let me come, please,” she begged.
“I believe I told you I would have you screaming your hatred for the patriarchy, isn’t that right?” His hips jerked as she purposefully squeezed around him. Then he stopped moving.
“No, no, Draco, don’t stop,” she practically sobbed. “I hate it, the fucking patriarchy, I hate it more than words can describe. The double standards, the hoops women have to jump through just to get a just sliver of the same respect men get. I fucking hate it.”
She was instinctively shoving her arse hard into him and when he slipped a hand under her, it was two swipes of his thumb against her clit as he restarted thrusting with a sharp intensity that sent Hermione tumbling over the edge. Hermione let out such a ferocious scream that she was sure her voice would be gone the next day.
A few more thrusts into her pulsing core and Draco followed her into bliss with a loud grunt against her hair and spilled himself into her fully. She squirmed at the sensation of his cum warming her insides and let out a sigh of relief as Draco lazily draped himself over her body, careful to not let his weight squish her.
After a minute, Draco slipped out of her cunt, causing her to smile into the bed as he pushed her hair to the side in order to leave open mouth kisses across her shoulders and down her spine.
Draco grabbed his wand from the bedside table and ran the wood across her body, casting both cleaning and healing spells over the areas with slight rope burns and bruises, each muttered enchantment followed by another soft kiss to her skin. After his care was finished, he pushed the bed sheet back and laid down, pulling her into his arms.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Hermione," he spoke softly. "I love you, you know that right?"
"Yes I know," Hermione looked into his eyes, feeling complete adoration for the wizard below her. "And I love you too."
__
When Hermione woke up the next morning, she had three items on her mental to-do list.
The first order of business was to roll over and gaze at the sleeping man next to her. He was peaceful in slumber, his blonde lashes fluttering as he dreamed. She smiled and kissed his nose softly, whispering her love for him before getting out of bed to get ready for the day.
She was tender in all the right places. Somehow, Draco always knew exactly what she needed.
Her second task was to grab The Daily Prophet from the leg of the owl perched on her window. Giving the large brown bird a small treat, she watched as it flew away to the owlery down the road. Unrolling the paper, she let out a sigh of relief at the flashing headline.
Women's Amendment Passed in Overwhelming Landslide headlined the front page and Hermione nearly cried as the tension in her neck that had been present since 8:30 pm the night before slid from her body. Draco entered the kitchen and, upon seeing the newspaper in her hands, wrapped his arms around her body from behind, kissing her neck and whispering his congratulations into her shoulder.
The third major event Hermione Granger had planned happened once she arrived at work. Upon entering her office, she called out to her secretary and had him schedule a one-on-one meeting with Cormac McLaggen. She felt nothing but satisfaction when the git marched angrily out of her office later that afternoon, arms full of contracts and regulations while muttering about crazy witches.
Hermione observed with relief that the pile of papers that had been slowly piling up on her desk for several months was suddenly cut in half. Never again would Hermione Granger let herself be walked over by a man, or anyone for that matter. She was determined to be in control of her meetings and her employees.
As far as she was concerned, she would never miss another election again.
