Chapter Text
Not everything would be like their first date though. Old wounds would often reopen in conversation even if Hermione did her best to hide her insecurity. She could understand needing to wait a bit before they make a public appearance together, wanting to preserve Astoria’s feelings and Draco not wanting to face the press, but it had been long enough. At least in Hermione’s eyes.
“So I was thinking.” She began hesitantly, watching as Draco bit into an apple slobbered with peanut butter and cinnamon over it. He chewed and waved his hand in a circular motion for her to go on. “I’d like to tell my friends about us. This weekend, at my birthday party?”
Draco stared and stared while he chewed, essentially chewing on her words. The light from the window casted an abstract shape over his hair, causing it to gleam and make him look bewitching. She pulled some of the bread off her sandwich, eyes wide with hope as she waited for him to speak.
“I’m not sure if—“
“Please? Draco it’s been months since you and Astoria broke things off and my friends won’t tell anybody. Besides, it's just dinner.” She begged. “I’d really like for you to be there and…for you to spend the night.”
Draco swallowed, a chunk of apple sliding uncomfortably down his throat. Torn between his options, he really didn’t trust he could make it out of her birthday party without word somehow getting around, but he also wanted to meet her parents and show her this was serious for him.
“Who’s all coming again?” He questioned and Hermione grew hopeful.
“Harry and Ginny, Ron, my parents, The Weasley’s, George and Angelina, and all the kids.” She explained, rubbing her hands up and down her pant legs.
“Bill won’t be there?” He inquired and she rolled her lips in her mouth while shrugging. She didn’t want to pester Bill and Fleur tonight asking if they would be attending again, knowing it would look odd, but if they were to make an appearance it definitely would help soften the edges a bit.
“They said they’ll try to come. Victoire has a dance recital during the same time so it’ll depend on how the kids feel.”
He nodded once, pausing as he searched for the words that he knew would make her upset.
“Hermione, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” She frowned, looking to fight back but he kept going. “It’s your birthday and I don’t want to take attention away from that and spend the night in an awkward environment when it should be fun.”
“It’ll be more fun if you’re there though. I think you’re thinking worst case scenario with this. It won’t be as bad as you’re planning in your head.” She tried.
“I'll get there and then what? Potter and Weasley ask what I’m doing there, you’ll say I’m your boyfriend and then it causes outrage.”
“It won’t cause outrage, don't be dramatic. You get along fine with Harry and the Weasley’s. Ron may be a little disgruntled at first but he’ll be fine.” She explained, her frown deepening when he began gathering his trash, seeming to make an exit.
“And when someone mentions I was engaged to Astoria four months ago and figures out we’ve been dating for the last month and a half? When your parents find out, do you think they’ll be eager to see me as anyone other than a man that jumps from relationship to relationship quickly.” He ranted frustrated.
“No, they’ll see how elated I am and welcome you fairly.” She protested.
“It would be best for you to have the afternoon with everyone and we get all of Sunday to ourselves.” He said trying to play it out like she was getting the best of both worlds.
“I—“
“I don’t want your night to be tense.” He said again.
“It won’t, but even if it is, we have to do this sometime. Why not this weekend when everyone is around?” Draco hopped off the ledge of the window, signaling the end of their lunch and his leave.
“We can find another time to tell everyone Hermione, just not on your birthday.”
“What if I want this for my birthday—“
“Don’t.”
“What? But I—“
“Hermione, don't use that on me.”
“Please? Why can’t you see—“
“It’s too soon. I don’t trust anyone not to say anything and for the sake of Astoria’s feelings, I’d rather not take that risk.” He snapped and Hermione’s mouth clamped shut. Draco began mumbling under his breath. “Just keep pushing for it without realizing what a shit storm it’ll cause. I’m sorry.” He spoke more directly looking at her, raising his voice. “I should head back to work, I’ll see you Sunday.”
He pattered away from their window, leaving Hermione hurt and confused still sitting on the ledge. She didn’t want to be the one that says sod his ex fiance’s feelings, because she did understand how soon it was, but to be denied something she wanted so badly especially for her birthday and to be placed second behind his ex fiancé, well, it really hurt.
She ignored him for the rest of the week, and irritatingly enough, he barely reached out. Come Saturday, she woke up to a parcel and flowers delivered. Of course from him, it made her cry though. Preferring him to deliver them himself instead of getting a quick note and a small line from a story, she nearly sent him an owl back telling him to sod off.
She feared Draco would be using his ex fiancé as a way to keep their relationship a secret forever, because he wasn’t ready to face his family or the press or whoever else. Whatever the reason, she knew he felt guilty, and it seemed he felt more guilty about Astoria than cared about Hermione’s feelings.
It felt selfish, but if Astoria already knew he had feelings for someone else, there couldn’t be much more harm done once she found out it was her. She tried her hardest not to think of it, or him, or the fact that she came close to owning him and begging him to come over for the afternoon again.
Instead, she got ready, cleaned and cooked some small dishes for her guests. Ginny and Molly arrived first, bringing in multiple plates of food and a cute birthday cake for her. Her parents came next and Hermione had to remember to remind everyone not to use so much magic today seeing as it still made her parents nervous. Soon enough her house was filled with loud conversation and kids running through her hallways.
Bill and Fleur even showed up just before cake, the kids excited to play with their cousins and Victoire still in her ballet apparel.
It was fun and exactly what a birthday should feel like, only a part of her heart felt lonely and she tried her hardest not to let it spoil her good mood.
“Lets get the cake.” Molly shouted. “Everyone gather round Hermione, it’s time to sing!”
Her noisy doorbell rang through the house. Odd. Since everyone, even her parents, had used the floo to get there.
“Who would that be then?” Harry asked curiously.
“Did you invite others, Mione? Someone from work?” Ron questioned from the chair, but no one moved to get the door. Arthur was on his way but Hermione cut him off.
“No! I mean—“ Arthur gave her a concerned look. Her heart was beating wildly but her stomach flapped with excitement. Everyone looked at her weird and the room fell silent. “I’ll get it. It—it’s probably just—I’ll get it.” She mumbled with a blush, avoiding everyone’s eyes.
Taking a quick breath before turning the knob, Hermione could feel everyone’s eyes on her back. It weighed heavy to the point that her knees felt weak.
The door creaked open, Draco standing tall with a worried and sorry expression. Half his mouth turned upwards when he saw her, making an effort to conceal his uncertainty of being there.
“Hi.” He said, ears turning pink.
“Hi.” Hermione replied, surprised clearly but ecstatic nonetheless. She was grateful she only cracked the door for her body to peer out, knowing the peeping people behind her were sure to ask a thousand questions soon. His figure was concealed for the most part.
“I didn’t want to use the floo, in case I was uninvited.” He began, clearing his throat.
“No. No you’re invited. Of course you are.” She said, tone coming off amazed. Draco blinked, looking down at his arms and feet then huffed.
“I’d be a huge git boyfriend if I missed my girlfriend’s birthday party, wouldn’t I?” He said, joking at himself and she adoringly smiled at him. Apology accepted.
“A most foul one.” She agreed and he smiled while stepping forward, taking her chin in between his thumb and pointer and kissing her tenderly.
“Happy Birthday, love.”
A deep cough from behind broke their tender moment, and the pair froze and gave each other a frightened look before it morphed into shit eating grins.
“Mione?” Her father called, more innocently than what everyone else was feeling.
She opened the door wider, letting Malfoy step into her house and stand beside her.
“Sorry um—“ She looked at him, biting her lip and furrowing her brow, before turning back to the stunned group of friends and family. “Yeah, erm.”
“Draco!” Victoire yelled, rushing up to him with her arms open. Draco easily scooped her up and held her on his hip. “I had a dance recital and they told me we were celebrating Aunt Mione’s birthday after. Mummy and Daddy didn’t tell me you’d be here.” She rambled, her chubby fingers locking around his neck.
“Oh yeah. I came to celebrate Aunt Mione’s birthday too.” He replied.
“You brought her presents?” She asked, looking at his hands and noticing he was carrying nothing. “It’s rude to not give presents on someone’s birthday.” Everyone watched in silence at the exchange, hoping they’d learn something about the why’s and what’s for his appearance, though most everyone correctly assumed even if it wasn’t said out loud yet.
Draco laughed and nodded at the little girl. “Yes I have a present for her, it’s in my pocket.”
“Well she should open it! Right after cake. Nana said we’re going to have cake. Nana?” She turned her attention to Molly who stood in the living room with a cake in her hand and a blank expression. Hearing her grandchild call to her seemed to snap her out of her trance.
“Yes. Yes! Cake. We’re um, singing Happy Birthday, before erm, right let’s go everyone. Hermione, come sit down dear.” Molly ordered and people began shuffling around to make room for her.
Victoire slid down from Draco’s arms and pulled him to the couch.
“Come sit by me and Aunt Mione.” She ordered, clutching at his pointer finger. Hermione and Draco shared a look, silently laughing to themselves that a child was able to break the tension and befuddlement.
“Alright then.” Draco said and quickly grabbed Hermione’s hand to pull her along with him. She looked down, rolling her lips in her mouth to hide her ridiculously wide grin.
Bill and Fleur caught Draco’s eyes just as he sat down and Victoire crawled into his lap. The couple’s eyebrows were far up into their hairlines, but an entrained smirk graced their features. Draco shrugged, not even concealing his flouting smile.
“Okay everyone ready?” Molly said, snapping her fingers to light the candles. Ron looked at Harry to ask if he knew to which Harry confusedly raised his shoulders. George looked highly delighted and Ginny’s mouth hadn’t closed since Draco first arrived.
“One, two, three. Happy Birthday to you.”
Hermione smiled at the glowing candles, chest full with love and adoration but neck tingling with embarrassment at the attention. She chanced a look at some people, finding her parent’s eyes to be more inquisitive than anything and she just brightly smiled at them. Most everyone looked confused, or ready to laugh and all the kids were none the wiser.
James found himself perched on her lap by the end of the song, and helped her blow out her candles. Everyone cheered and clapped, and she was surprised to feel lips pressed against her cheek and a quiet ‘Happy Birthday’ said into her ear. She looked over at Malfoy, his eyes warm with love.
“You can’t do that to Aunt Mione!” Victoire shrieked, causing Draco to laugh.
“Why not?” He asked, feigning offense.
“Kissing is for mummies and daddies.” She simply explained.
“Well I think I can since Aunt Mione is my girlfriend.” Draco said simply and Hermione’s skin tingled with the announcement.
A plate of cake for her and James was pushed into her hands by a gobsmacked Ginny. Hermione mouthed ‘later’ at her and she nodded at the answer.
“If Aunt Mione is your girlfriend, does that mean I call you Uncle Draco?”
Hermione wished she could have taken a picture of the smile that took over his features. Total satisfaction and pure accomplishment. Draco clicked his tongue and gave an adult answer.
“Only if you want to, sweetheart.”
“You’re around enough. I’m surprised she hasn’t started calling you ‘uncle’ sooner.” Bill noted, the first one in the room to somewhat acknowledge what was going on.
“Don’t mean to interrupt your conversation,” Hermione’s mother came around the sofa, extending her hand while Draco balanced a six year old and a plate of cake but still managed to return the gesture. “But I’m Hermione’s mother, Ellen. She didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend. It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Likewise. I’m Draco Malfoy.” He smiled brightly, reaching his hand out for her father who walked up beside them.
“Scott Granger. Pleasure to meet you. Did you go to Hogwarts with Hermione?” He asked and for a fleeting second, her stomach dropped.
“I did. We were in different houses though.” He said smoothly, not even bothered by the question.
“Ah, forgive me, I forget the house names. They’re still a bit odd to me.” Her father joked but Draco gave a charming smile and shook off the worries.
“I was Slytherin, the snakes. Rivals of the Gryffindors, actually.” Victoire turned in his lap with cake on her face.
“Boo, Slytherin. Gryffindors are better.” She said, causing everyone in the room to laugh loudly.
“My favorite niece for a reason. Want an extra piece of cake Victoire?” Ron joked, causing everyone to further chuckle while admonishing him. Draco was surprised at the lightheartedness of him, his shoulders loosening up quite a bit.
“I can’t even argue when the room is filled with Lions. There’s no point.” Draco remarked and Hermione looked back to her parents who smiled politely but definitely looked a little left out. He caught her eye and turned his attention back to them. “Hermione told me you were Dentists? I’m sorry I’m not particularly privy to what the job entails.”
Her father gave her a brief description of the job, Draco asking appropriate questions when needed and giving his full attention to her parents. When Victoire left his lap to go play with the other kids, he offered them the sofa so they could sit beside him and continue their conversation. Hermione scooted over to the side, giving them more room which is how she found herself directly next to Harry.
“So how long has this been going on?” He whispered and she blushed, knowing it was the question of the night.
“July. Just after the Ministry’s Anniversary.” She said and he nodded thoughtfully.
“He and Astoria ended things in what, early June, end of May?” He asked and she nodded, knowing others in the room were trying to listen amongst the noise. “So, this isn’t exactly new?”
“No.” She confirmed.
“And…Astoria. Did he—I mean, did you—“
“Sort of. It’s—“ She flinched at his words. “It’s a long story I guess.”
Harry nodded, eyes flickering to Malfoy as he animatedly spoke about his work as a curse-breaker. Her mother seemed highly fascinated by the subject, her eyes wide as he explained the night he came to Hermione’s after a curse hit him at work and she essentially saved his life.
“Sounds like a dangerous profession. How often does that happen?” Her mother asked him.
“Not often. I am quite careful when it comes to my job and have only had three incidents, the last one being the worst.”
Hermione got up and began helping clear some of the food dishes away. Ginny and Ron hot on her trails.
“Hermione?” Ron asked timidly. “Can I ask you something?”
She braced herself, knowing this may be the hardest conversation she’d have to have out of anyone else.
“Sure, Ron. What’s up.”
He swallowed once, deep eyes looking regretful for what he was about to ask and Ginny looked equally worried.
“Were you and—Did Malfoy leave Astoria…for you?”
Hermione inhaled sharply, biting her tongue and trying her best to calm herself.
“Not for me. But I suppose I was the largest factor.” She admitted, Ginny looked confused.
“Does that mean…you were seeing Malfoy while he was engaged to her?”
“No!” She cleared her throat, uncomfortable already and tried her best to keep her voice down. “No. He—we had feelings for each other, small ones that grew while he was with her. We were never together when he saw her.” She explained, hoping her friends would believe her and not think the worst of them.
“So, when did you start fancying him?” Ron asked and Hermione looked at him sadly.
“Don’t know, really. I suppose I knew at New Year’s. After we ended things.” She told him quietly, avoiding his eyes.
“Oh.” Was all he said and she hated the sound.
“Ron I’m sorry—“
“No need to be Mione. Just a bit confused at how this even happened. I mean no offense, but I can’t fathom how you two get on.” He said reassuringly and Ginny slapped him on the chest.
“Malfoy is a nice lad! You see him all the time at the kids’ parties.” Ginny scolded.
“I know!” Ron defended. “But I hardly knew they were friends and now they’re suddenly dating and Malfoy left Astoria for her? Seems we’re missing a big part of the picture here.” Ron tried to defend himself.
Hermione giggled a bit, finding the whole situation a tad strange but knowing exactly what Ron meant.
“It just sort of happened. One day I woke up and realized somewhere between all the words shared, I fell for him.” She explained kindly.
“Don’t know how I feel about him being dodgy with Astoria, but I suppose if you got over it, we all can.” Ginny said and promptly left the room with a smile.
“Same. As long as he’s being faithful to you Mione, I don’t have a problem with him.” Ron kissed her cheek then followed Ginny to play with the kids. Hermione felt her heart soar as she turned around and found Draco still chatting with her parents, looking at her questionably. She smiled and winked, highly enjoying her birthday festivities.
Bill and Fleur headed to the floo with their tired children, the last to leave. Draco carefully transferring a snoozing Victoire into Bill’s arms. She mumbled in her sleep, clutching at Draco’s shirt.
“Uncle Draco coming home with us to play princesses and dragons?” She dazedly. Draco’s heart clenched and he faintly smiled.
“No darling. It’s time for bed.” Fleur smiled, hugging Draco and kissing his cheeks while protecting their newborn’s head. Bill balanced both his girls in his arms, whispering to them.
“Had I known Mione was the one you told me about, I think I would have pushed you a little harder to apologize sooner.” Bill said to him, and Hermione looked confused between both men. “I’m happy everything worked out. Happy Birthday Hermione.”
The family said their final goodbyes and left, leaving the pair alone for the first time in days. She turned to interrogate him but he started before she did.
“Yes, I talked to Bill about you, yes he was the one that pushed me to reach out again, yes a Weasley is my closest friend and yes I am happy that I finally get the title of ‘Uncle.’ Any other questions?”
Hermione clamped her mouth shut, a little annoyed he knew all the questions in her mind but impressed more than anything.
“Smart arse.” She joked, making him laugh loudly. “Did you have fun?”
Draco looked at her seriously before bringing her into his arms and massaging the nape of her neck with one hand. “Yes I did. I’m sorry for getting so worked up, especially during your birthday. I really didn’t have anything to worry about.”
“Told you so.” She mumbled into his chest. They stood silently for a moment, making their embrace infinite.
“Would you like to open your present?” He asked softly, and she shrugged, not wanting to move out of his arms. She had spent months, years, wondering what it would be like to be held by him. A glutton seemed to minimize the feeling, she was thoroughly addicted to his embrace.
Draco pulled a small box out of his pocket, enlarging it to its full size. It was massive, and thick, reminding Hermione of the newest edition of Hogwarts: A History. He held it for her as she undid the wrappings, his heart rate picking up as she peeled back the layers.. It was a leather bound book with jagged pages sticking out, having no title except for a stamped symbol that looked like a crown.
She looked up at him confused but proceeded to open the book. There were articles from philosophers ripped out from their original bindings, excerpts from stories, and full poems. She recognized some, didn’t know others, finding a large variety between magical and muggle writers, even finding a few pages of lyrics from bands and symphonies.
While she flipped through the book, a light smile on her face as she read some of the passages, Draco stood nervously wondering if he should explain, worried maybe she didn’t get it, or appreciate the work he put into it. Or just flat out think it was too much and weird, especially the last part of it.
“It’s um, a collection of sorts.” He began, watching as she got to the ending pages, furrowing her brow as she assessed the entries. His entries. “Of things we discussed, passages we like and shared with each other. Most of it is just things that make me think of you. Poems that remind me of you or that I think you’d like.”
Hermione felt her cheeks hurt from the smile she wore, her heart leaping with cheer and appreciation. Her eyes flashed up, bright and amazed while her body was engulfed in warmth. She read one of the passages, ready to ask him where this was from.
“I originally just began collecting the work we discussed. But the drawer in my office at the Manor overfilled so I put them in this. Then I…I don’t know, really.” He laughed at himself, rubbing the back of his head. “I got carried away and made this. Started, erm, writing my own notes.” He said sheepishly, his neck growing warm.
“You wrote these?” She asked, stunned. The words were precise, following literary patterns that could compare to the greats.
“Yeah, I uh, the ending pages are all my work.”
Hermione read over his handwriting, repeating his words in her head and trying to imagine him at a desk, quill in hand as he spoke out loud to himself to find the right sentences. Some of the poems were sad, regretful, others were filled with happiness and joy and…want.
Not wanting to be distracted, she marked the page with her finger, flipping back to the front and smiling down at the works by Socrates, Plato and Aristotle. She bit her lip, shaking her head in disbelief at the thoughtful gift.
“Draco this is…” She trailed off, shaking her head at the hours it must have taken him to gather all this. “Remarkable. I’m—it’s beautiful. Thank you so much. It’s such a deeply personal gift and I’m anxious to page through all of it.” She expressed, her chest filling with butterflies as his weary expression began to soften.
“Yeah? You like it?” He asked and she half chuckled.
“I love it. It’s so sincere. I can’t believe you did this for me.” She beamed, and Draco reciprocated her expression. He watched as she reopened the book, turning the page back open to the poem of his that caught her eye. “‘I am a depraved man?’” She read the title, causing his eyes to widen. He began to nervously sputter.
“Don’t—“
“Why not?”
“Some of them. Oh gods. I shouldn’t have included—“
“But you did.”
“Yes, but I shouldn’t have. Let me remove—“
“No, you already gave me the book.”
“Yes, but I don’t think you should read—“
“Then why put it in?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“If it was written about me I think I should read it.”
“Hermione it’s little—“
“I’m an adult woman, Draco.”
“But I don’t want you to think—“
“That you’re a depraved man?” She said with a smile, liking how red his cheeks were. Draco swallowed and stayed silent as she stepped around him, beginning to read the short poem.
“‘I am depraved man.’” She spoke out loud, her steps halting as she continued. “’Obsessed to find her scent on the tip of my nose. Deprived of her taste on my tongue.’”
She shivered, only three lines into it and her center clenched violently as she imagined him writing these words, thinking of her. Wondering if maybe he thought of her late at night, thinking these same thoughts. Rubbing himself to the very same scenes. The words exemplified exactly what she felt, showed her her need wasn’t one sided.
“‘Disgusted from the need to see her tears, perverted from craving her cries.’” She took in a shuddering breath, almost dropping the book from her grasp when Draco came up behind her, his heavy breath on her neck. He moved her hair to one side, fingertips barely brushing over her skin. Her eyes blinked shut for a second, before he finished the poem.
“‘Mad with desire to feel her, to feel her—oh, yes. To feel her.’” He took the perfect pauses to lower his lips by her ear, grazing her skin. The whispers of the words made her eyes roll backwards. “’The despicable demand, I am truly a depraved man.’”
He finished the last lines by gently biting her ear, kissing the skin and forcing a moan to rip through her chest. She dropped the book, hearing it thump to the floor as she turned and found his lips.
They were desperate for each other, grabbing and groping at anything they could touch. Lips not leaving one another while the room filled with their pleading moans and sighs and the wet noises from their mouths. His hands grabbed her arse, hers wound through his hair and scratched his skull. Draco bent forward, pressing their bodies closer and closer till not a sliver of light was between them.
Hermione managed to pull him into her room, both of them half dressed with clothes recklessly thrown off. He pushed her on the bed, turning her over so she laid flat on her stomach. Her arms circled under her pillow and she watched with heavy eyes as he lifted her bum to pull off her stockings. His lips left hot kisses over her hips and down her thighs. She pushed herself backwards, silently asking for more. Draco’s hands palmed one arse cheek, massaging the flesh as he nipped at her thighs.
“Tell me another.” She whispered, mouth parted as his dark eyelashes laid on his cheek, his tongue running over the bump of her calf to her ankle.
“Another poem?” He asked to confirm and she nodded reverently.
“Please.” She turned on her back, bare underneath him. His eyes glinted with a feral passion, she sucked in a sharp breath when he licked his lips and smirked. His hands squeezed her thighs, peeling them open until she was spread. He bent down, kissing along her hip bone and marking the extra flesh on her legs. Hermione closed them around his neck, crossing her ankles on his back. She felt him smile.
“Vines locked around my head, I shall not struggle.” He whispered, nose burying into the small patch of curls on her mound. “Scent from their leaves so strong, I’ll drown—But I shall not struggle.”
One of her hands fisted his hair, probably so tight it may have hurt, but Draco only groaned in pleasure and continued with his poem, his breath fanning over her soaked and aching center.
“My death is approaching, suffocation causing images of ecstasy—“ He kissed her lips, making Hermione let out a wanton sound that made Draco go mad.
“And with noises from above I am beckoned home, I go on, I push forward, to home.”
He finally licked, stroking her with high attention, finding the movements and rhythms to cause her the greatest pleasure, knowing what was the right thing when her thighs shook around his face and her chest lifted from the bed. Her calls for him and the sound of his name were muffled as he stayed between her legs, but he didn’t mind, he was, after all, home.
Draco returned to her, hovering above and buried himself deep inside,, holding himself still as she kissed him repeatedly, tasting herself on his tongue and moaning sighs into his mouth. He’d give a long thrust, only when she begged and they both ached for more. The pressure in his stomach was so immense that he had to warn her this wouldn’t last very long, but she smiled dazedly, tightened her legs and revealed she wouldn’t either.
Hermione was dizzy, caged in his arms and delirious with the pleasure he already gave her, she asked for more, begged him for more. He whispered words like ‘finally,’ and ‘heavenly’ and ‘so, so wet for me’ and other euphoric, dirty words that made her clench around him, describing her and her body as ‘the only thing he’ll ever crave.’
The burn was magnetizing, demanded to be fanned and she knew with a final few thrusts that were equally deep and powerful, she’d be drenched in bliss. His gravelly voice tipped her over the edge, her throat raw as she cried for him, moans muffled in his mouth like it was his only source of oxygen. Draco didn’t hold back after she finished, finding his release in the middle of hers, the spasms and feel of her body in his clutches causing a blinding white light to shoot behind his eyelids.
After her birthday, he soon realized his witch liked hearing his poems or just his voice as a form of foreplay. If he was over at hers, she’d come into the room with the book in hand, a small blush on her face and her lip caught between her teeth.
“Care for a read?” She asked hopefully and he always agreed. It was like he was a bloody dog, the bell signaling meal time. As soon as she held the gigantic book in her arms with a kittenish expression, blood rushed to his member and he opened his arms for her. She would crawl beside him, hike a leg around his waist and innocently lay her head in the crevice of his neck and shoulder. They never made it past two of his own personal poems, Draco would be mid sentence and suddenly feel her hand stroking him or her lips at his jugular.
“I thought you wanted me to read?” He asked knowingly, already closing the book and pushing it off to the side.
“I do.” She’d always sigh in response or softly kiss the tender area where his jaw and ear met, breath tickling his neck and causing his hands to eagerly roam. “Keep going.”
He would oblige her, finishing the words he memorized or coming up with a short one on the spot.
“So good, it’s so good Draco.” She’d murmur and it was never clear whether she meant his poems or the way he made her come. He assumed both
He never fully understood the gravity of how much she liked his words until he exited her shower one morning, finding the book open to the newest poem he added--where he described the rogue scent of his woman--and her hand between her thighs. Her eyes were clenched shut and her hips swirled against her fingers. His mouth went dry at the sight, navel twitching with joy. The air was thick with her smell and dulcet moans, his knees went weak.
He fell before her, reciting his words into her center, carving his tongue over her until she rode her high on his lips. And then, only after she was satiated, did he bury himself deep inside her, her wetness covering him until he saw stars that looked like the outline of her body..
Of course he never commented on her sexual appetite. His mirrored her’s anyways, so they often found themselves grabbing for each other frequently. He thought it was normal, especially for how long they repressed their wants for each other,l and never thought anything of it until she made a comment.
“Draco?” She asked one evening, her head under his chin and fingers lazily moving across his forearm as he held her while they watched a film.
“Hm?” He replied, eyes focused on a murder mystery documentary she made him watch.
“Why do you like me?”
Draco frowned, doing his best not to laugh at the ridiculous question.
“Why do I like you? Do you not know?” He questioned, feeling her shrug.
“Just curious.” She mumbled, hating that she even asked. “Forget it.”
“No. No. Come here.” He sat up, tugging her with him. Leaning against the back of the sofa, he took her face into one hand, thumb stroking her freckled cheek. “Where’s this coming from? Have I been lacking in telling you these things?”
“I don’t know. We’ve been extremely intimate recently and I, I don’t know, wondered if you like me or my body more.” She mumbled.
“Hermione, you can’t possibly think that!” Draco frowned, his hand dropping
“What!? With how much sex we have it just crossed my mind.” She defended, shame fresh on her face. It was a normal thought. They had been frequently physical, coming home and finding themselves twirled between her bedsheets more often than not. The astonished look and brevity of her insecurities had made her realize this was insane of her. Of course he liked her for legitimate reasons, it would still be nice to hear them from his own mouth.
“I like you more than just for the sex. Merlin Hermione, you’ve been the aggressor recently. Who am I to turn you away?” He couldn’t help but grin a bit as she pouted.
“Me!?”
“Yes you! Every time you bring that bloody book out I get hard. You ask me to read then jump my bones like some randy teenager.” He laughed, but her frown deepened. “Honestly if you were to show me the book right now, I would get half hard, you control me with it.”
She crossed her arms, not liking that he was acting like this was her fault but wanting to see if it was true. She got up and fetched the book from the kitchen table, and Draco could feel the blood move to his head.
“See?” He said and she looked at his sweatpants. “If you ask me to read, it’ll only make it worse.”
Hermione looked down, seeing the material below his stomach move and grow. Her eyes widened and she covered her face, highly embarrassed.
“Oh god, I am the aggressor.”
Draco laughed and pulled her next to him, cuddling her into his side and wrapping their legs together so she was half sitting on his lap.
“Yes you are, but if I’ve honestly been lacking in telling you how I feel, then I have no problem sharing. I’m surprised you ask though, I thought it would be obvious. Seeing you have a full book of words that describe how I feel.” Draco played with the ends of her hair, she looked up at him with round eyes.
“I know, but those aren’t all your words.” Her eyes looked embarrassed for bringing it up, but Draco just smiled. Not that her insecurity was something to laugh at, but it felt a little ridiculous that they had been together for almost half a year and she had a random fit of uncertainty of where his feelings stood.
Draco kissed her crown, happy to comply and let her know truly how he felt.
“I like your ambition. I’m inspired by it to work harder, hold myself accountable for my own career and personal goals. If there’s something you want to do, there’s not a doubt that you won’t make it happen.” He began explaining and she half smiled, the words making her feel better.
“I like the way you lead. You should see yourself sometimes, commanding a room, oftentimes surrounded by only men. People are inclined to listen to you, and if they don’t, you make them listen. You’re naturally gifted that way. Persuasive when it’s needed, crafty, determined, strategic. All of it, you use it to your advantage and it’s an incredible talent.” Taking her hands into his, he started kissing her knuckles.
“I love how good of a friend you are. Your love and loyalty knows no bounds, something not many possess. I know you’d do anything for your friends without question. And that goes hand in hand with your kindness. You look at the world, at humanity with such a kindness that it puts most to shame. Everyone could learn something from you. To just take a moment out of their day and do something for others rather than themselves. There are moments when I wonder what you would do in my situation. So I try a little harder, be a little kinder because I think it’s what you’d want me to do, and what you’d do yourself.”
She melted, ready to tell him that was enough and she was quite assured of herself now. But he pressed on, words easily falling from his mouth like he thought about this a million times every day.
“I love your sense of humor. Your sarcastic wit and quick remarks are hard to keep up with sometimes. And I love your laugh, the one when you find something so funny you’re silent until you erupt in a loud fit of giggles and start it all over again.” Draco’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, laughing to himself as he pictured her doing exactly what he described. Hermione found herself warm from the details and attention he was providing, truly not realizing how specific he could be when it came to her.
“And I love how smart you are. Mainly your memory and how you use it to make others feel loved. You recall personal details about coworkers or friends or family, and their faces just light up because you mentioned a very intricate detail about their life. It shows you paid attention to them, really paid attention to them and cared enough to remember that bit of information, no matter its significance. You remember simply because you care.” Draco curled a piece of hair behind her ear, finding himself lost in her sparkling eyes that looked at him like he was the most important person in the world. His heart clenched.
“I love the way you look at the world. Content with what it gives you, eager to give it something back to show your appreciation. Your heart never seems to run out of love.” His voice was quiet, words soft and gentle, just for her.
“Simply put, and in my own words; I love you. I love everything about you. The humanity and tenderness you exude makes the world a better place to live in. And it’s what makes me wake up every day, grateful to be alive that I’m here with you and I get to know you. You’re a startlingly beautiful human being, Hermione, and I love you.”
His fingers coiled into her hair and she could feel them shaking a bit as his admission. A warm shiver inched up her spine as she felt his breath over her lips. She leaned into him, feeling the intensity he poured into his kiss and felt her chest explode.
“I could go on.” He joked and she shook her head, kissing him quickly again.
“No. No, that was…lovely to hear. You have quite a way with words. Written and spoken.” She said and he lightly chuckled. She kissed his cheek, pulling back to hold his face and look him in his eyes. “I love you too. I could list all the reasons why but you’ve already outshone me for the night.”
Draco laughed again, laying back down on the sofa and playing with her hair as she cuddled into him. “Tomorrow then?”
She smiled, kissing his chest while nodding, knowing she’d be writing an essay on all the reasons why she loved him.