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The ornate clock ticks from its place on the mantle, filling the otherwise silent room.
Hermione is curled up on the sofa reading a book, her chestnut curls pulled back into a messy bun and her tortoiseshell glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. Times like this one are when she is at her happiest, enjoying her evenings lost in a world of whatever leather bound tome she has chosen for the evening.
A soft rapping of knuckles against her front door catches her attention. With a glance at the clock, her brows knit together. Who on earth is outside her door at quarter to midnight?
Hermione dog ears the corner of her page, saving her place for later, and sets it—along with her glasses—on the walnut coffee table. The leather sofa squeaks as she pushes herself to stand, and grabs her wand.
She pads down the hallway, slipper clad feet shuffling against the wooden floorboards. Her fingers curl around the brass door handle and she opens it despite her apprehension. Hermione sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of the mystery knocker.
The moonlight illuminates their pale skin with an iridescent shimmer of silver. Visibly injured and shivering from the cold, Draco Malfoy is standing on her doorstep.
“W-what are you doing here?” she asks.
Teeth chattering from the cold, he stutters. "I—I’m sorry, I didn't know where else to go."
Frozen to her spot she has no idea what to do. It’s been a few years since she last saw him. What on earth had happened for him to turn up on her doorstep at this time of night?
“There’s no need to apologise, come in. You’ll catch a death out here,” she says, stepping aside to let him into her home.
Silence and unanswered questions stretch between them as she leads him into her kitchen, his heavy footsteps echoing behind her. Hermione instructs him to sit on one of the stools and disappears with her wand still firmly clasped in her hand as a precaution, returning moments later with her healer kit, a warm bowl of water, and a clean towel.
Hermione looks up and meets his anguished expression, sadness blooms in her chest like spider-web tendrils at the sight of him. She can examine his injuries more clearly under the stark light of the kitchen, a smear of crimson tainting his alabaster complexion. Knuckles on his left hand split, crusting with dried blood around the edges. There’s a dark purple ring around one eye, with swelling of a possible broken nose. And a curved laceration that bisects his left eyebrow, trickling blood down his cheek.
"For the love of Merlin, what happened to you?" she asks, fingers gently moving his head and inspecting his injuries.
Draco’s gaze finds the floor as he shrugs, mumbling, "Got into a fight."
"Whatever for?" she asks incredulously.
"You."
She scoffs. Staring at him unblinkingly, her forehead creasing as she raises an eyebrow in question. She cannot fathom what she has to do with it, unable to grasp why he had gotten into an altercation on her behalf whilst she was at home minding her own business.
“What do you mean, me?”
"Had to be done."
Hermione huffs in frustration. "Stop being an arse, Malfoy. And tell me what happened."
"Alright, witch. Calm down," he chides. Wringing his hands together, he sets them in his lap before delivering his explanation. “I went out for a walk to clear my head. I don’t really know how to explain this, but there was a distinct smell in the air. Whatever it was I could smell, smelt like you, and before I could put the pieces of the puzzle together. I was walking here and—”
"I still don't understand how that explains these injuries."
Draco rolls his eyes at her interruption before continuing. "I stumbled across this figure, I have no idea who they were, but they attacked me. The entire thing was such a blur, the next thing I remember was being stood on your doorstep.”
Hermione dips the cloth into the warm water and rings it out, a small hand reaches for his, fingers gliding across his palm as she draws it towards her. She dabs his knuckles gently and he hisses through gritted teeth when the cloth comes into contact with his broken skin.
“I’ll be careful, I promise.”
Her ministrations are careful as she tends to his wounds, taking her time to run the damp cloth along each slender digit, ridding him of dirt and dried blood. When the water starts to turn a murky shade of brown, she pours it down the sink and refills it with fresh water.
“Pass me your rings.” Draco looks at her with horror in his eyes, so she adds, “I’m just going to clean them. I know you never take them off, I’ll be quick.”
Removing his jewellery, he places them in her palm. She slowly dunks them into the bowl of water, carefully running the cloth over the silver bands before drying them off with a tea towel.
She hears Draco clear his throat before asking, “why are you doing all of this the Muggle way? Wouldn’t spells be quicker?”
Of course Hermione knows that spells would be quicker, but she finds that doing it manually allows for her to take better stock of his injuries. Reminding her of the way her mother used to take care of her grazed knees and cut elbows from running around in the garden when she was a child.
And when it comes to his rings, she doesn’t want to run the risk of using a spell in case it tarnishes his precious metals. Thus, doing it by hand was the safest option.
“My mum used to tend to my injuries this way when I was a child,” she explains. “Before we discovered my magical abilities. I guess it just helps me feel close to her in a sense, since she no longer remembers who I am.”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think…I—”
“It’s okay,” she holds her hand out to him and smiles. “Here, as good as new.”
He returns the smile, offering his thanks as he slides the rings back onto his fingers.
Meanwhile, Hermione rummages through her kit, retrieving a roll of dressing. Wrapping it around his knuckles, she makes sure each one is covered before securing it with a homemade bandage.
No one knows this, but there’s something special about her kit. During Healer training, she was given a piece of advice from a former professor of hers. When it comes to making homemade bandages, unicorn hair helps bind them together.
Gently pressing the tip of a finger to the swelling under his eye, she checks for injuries that may lie beneath the surface. As she moves closer to his nose he hisses, confirming her earlier suspicions of a broken nose.
She retrieves her wand from the counter, steady fingers curling around the vine wood. “I’m going to need to heal the break in your nose. It might hurt.”
Draco nods.
She levels her wand with the bridge of his nose. Hermione takes a deep breath and mutters, “Episkey.”
A quiet crunch crackles through the room as his nose sets back into place. Eyes clamp shut as he flinches. The swelling visibly reduces.
“Fuck, Hermione!”
“I did warn you.”
Plucking two vials from her case, she hands them to him. “Drink these, you’ll feel better.”
“What are they?”
“Healing potion and a pain potion, with a hint of wolfsbane. It’ll help calm you.”
Popping the corks, Draco raises one vial at a time to his lips and downs them in one quick sip, grimacing as the bitter liquid burns his throat.
Raising a hand to clean the cut above his eye, she whispers, "I still don't understand what all of this has to do with me?"
Draco swallows thickly, words hitching in his throat. "I–I think they might have been an Alpha wolf, too."
"How could you tell?"
"Their eyes, they were red. Like mine when—"
"When you turn?" she finishes for him.
He nods in confirmation.
"So you did it to protect me?" Hermione asks, a playful smile tugging on her lips.
"I'll always protect you," he replies vehemently, hands finding her waist as she steps between his thighs, toying with the hem of her jumper. She continues to tend to the cut above his eye, applying a thin layer of balm to help speed up the healing.
"Even after all this time?" she asks, tracing the outline of the slit across his brow.
"Until my dying breath."
She wipes her hands on the cloth, ridding herself of the balm residue as she digests his confession.
They had a fleeting romance during their final year of Hogwarts, which crumbled under the realisation that in addition to healing after the war, they needed to understand their own designations before fully allowing themselves to have one another.
Draco needed time to adjust to becoming an Alpha. Needed to learn how to care for his omega whilst still allowing her freedom without being overbearing and possessive.
As drawn as she was to him, Hermione found it too difficult to balance her own need for independence with his need to protect her.
Ultimately what pushed them apart was Draco being bitten.
His Alpha drive combined with his newfound werewolf instincts became too much for him to handle, and he knew he had to protect her from himself. So he left.
"If you give me a second chance," he says, flexing his fingers around her hips and squeezing. “I can be the man you deserve. The one to love you, cherish you, and take care of you. Just like you've taken care of me. There are not enough words to explain how much I have missed you. Not being with you has been torture."
His touch lingers, bringing her to the realisation that she never wants to spend another day without him for as long as they both remain on this earth. The past four years were rough without him, especially during Healer training where she would have done anything to have him supporting her from the sidelines.
She throws the cloth aside and it lands on the counter with a wet slap. Small hands cup either side of his face, tilting his head so she can slot her mouth against his. Her tongue traces the seam of his lips, kissing him with reverence.
Breathless she pulls away and says, “Then bite me. Mark me, mate me, and make me yours. For I am always, unequivocally yours, Draco Malfoy."
His fingers slide over her hips, tracing the seam of her jeans across her bum and scooping her into his arms as he stands. She instinctively wraps her legs around his waist, arms winding around his neck as he carries her out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
Setting her down once they reach her room, Draco stops in his tracks, eyes drifting across her perfectly made bed and paying particular attention to the array of neatly placed scatter cushions.
“Have you been nesting?” he asks, coming to stand behind her, an arm snaking around her waist as he drops a kiss to her shoulder. “Did you know I was coming?”
She can feel him snicker against her shoulder, his breath warm as it fans across her neck and down her back. It’s at this moment Hermione feels like they are back in eight year, a pair of innocent school-children about to explore one another for the first time.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” he mumbles into her skin.
She twists in his arms to face him and brings both hands up to rest on his cheeks. “Fate has its funny way of always bringing us together, against all odds.”
Draco dips his head to trace his tongue along the side of her neck, until he reaches her scent glands. “And I don’t plan on letting you slip away again.”
“Draco,” she breathes, head falling back and baring her neck to him. “Please.”
Sharp teeth graze her sensitive skin. “Is this where you want me to bite you? For me to sink my teeth in and make you mine? My sweet little omega.”
Hermione whimpers, small hands clawing at the thin t-shirt clung to his broad frame. “Yes, Draco.”
He hums in disapproval. “Not just yet, I need to feel that perfect cunt of yours as it clenches around my cock and only then will I bite you and tie our souls together.”
Her mind is a blur. The room feels like it’s spinning, with only his hands keeping her grounded. She hears the soft sweep of a shirt falling to the floor and a clank of a belt buckle, followed by a harsh swoosh of leather being pulled free from denim loops.
Melting against his broad frame, her arms belt around his waist, nose taking in his heady bouquet of cedar, peppermint, and sweet green apple. Her nose presses against his sternum, just short of the small patch of white blonde curls sitting in the centre of his chest. She clings to him, knees threatening to buckle under the weight of his scent.
Hermione isn’t sure how she ends up naked, sprawled out on the centre of her bed, lying flat on her stomach. Draco's frame hovers behind her, his thick erection resting heavily against the curve of her arse.
She mewls as the tips of his fingers trail fire across her skin, slowly descending the notches of her spine. Goosebumps ripple across her skin as he reaches the sensitive dip in her lower back just above her arse. A hum of pleasure slips from between her lips when his hands span the width of her back, tracing the freckles littered across her golden skin.
The mattress dips behind her as Draco shifts his weight to sit back on his heels. A shrill squeal escapes her under the sudden movement of large hands on her hips, pulling her up until she’s on her knees. Her chest remains flush against the sheets, a shudder coursing through her when his fingers trace her slit.
“I can’t believe I still have this effect on you.” She can practically feel the smirk on his face. “Even after all this time, I’m the only one that gets you this wet.”
Dissolving with pleasure, all she can muster is a whimper in response.
The tip of his finger presses forward, circling her entrance and gathering up her slick arousal. Twisting his hand until his palm faces upwards, he slides his hand forward to lightly tease her clit, earning a cry as her hips jerk backwards.
He drags his fingers back, slowly pushing a thick digit inside of her. Withdrawing, he adds another, his middle and forefinger thrusting into her. She moans at the intrusion, revelling in the way they stretch her out so deliciously.
His thumb brushes against her puckered hole, and he laughs when she wiggles her hips away in protest.
“I’m just teasing, kitten. One day I’ll have your arse, but today I just want to be buried in that perfect little pussy of yours. You always take me so well.”
He pumps his fingers two more times before withdrawing, wiping them clean on the back of her thigh. Two hands knead her arsecheeks, opening her up to him so he can admire the way her cunt glistens for him. Dripping from his touch alone.
“As much as I love seeing you like this, I want to watch as you come for me before I mate you.”
Draco flips her onto her back again and as he nudges his cock inside of her, she wraps her arms and legs around him. He rolls his pelvis forward until their hips kiss in the middle. She shudders, his breath tickling her collarbone as he takes a deep breath of composure.
“I don’t think I can be gentle, Hermione,” he growls into the crook of her neck.
“Then don’t be,” she cries out. The earth feels like it’s spinning on its axis, her mind clouds with dizzying pleasure as he slowly rocks into her.
She can feel his jaw clench, rolling as he spits out, “I mean it. It’s taking everything in me not to fuck you senseless right now. I need to make this good for the both of us, it’s been too long. I don’t want to hurt you.”
His body heaves above her, breath heavy as he sniffs. His lips trace an invisible path down her collarbone, sharp teeth nipping at her skin earning a playful yelp. She scrapes her nails from the dip in his lower back, all the way to his shoulders. Thick muscle twitches under her fingertips and she can tell he’s about to lose control.
She’s desperate to be claimed, to have their souls tied together under the harvest moon.
“Lose control, I’ve got you. Be a good Alpha and claim your omega.”
Draco grunts animalistically, biting back a moan.
“Fine,” he growls, pushing himself from her and pinning both her wrists above her head. His eyes are dark, jaw is set and he looks ready to devour her. “Have it your way,” he continues, “but don’t complain to me in the morning when you're sore and covered in bruises. I warned you I won’t be able to control myself.”
“Who says you’ll be staying the night? I might kick you out like you’re some stray dog.”
“Right,” he says, tone sharp and dangerous. “That’s it.”
“What’s the matter, wolfie? Can’t take the he— oh gods!” her words are garbled as he slams his hips against her. His pace relentless, knocking the breath straight from her lungs. Leaving her gasping for air.
The slender fingers curled around her wrist are tight, holding her firmly in place as he fucks her like a true Alpha. Despite the fact he’s in her home, he’s the one in charge right now. He’s the one controlling the pace and demanding her pleasure.
“Keep that smart mouth of yours shut.” he huffs between thrusts.
“Or what?”
“Or I won’t claim you.”
Cinnamon eyes widen in terror. “You wouldn’t.”
“Watch me,” he mocks.
She watches with curiosity as Draco pulls back, and smooths a flat palm across her belly.
Draco hums in appreciation. “Look how beautiful you look. Spread out and stuffed full of my cock.” He presses lightly against her skin, fingers tracing the small bulge. “Just look at how well you take me.” Hermione lifts onto her elbows and looks down to where they are joined as he continues, “One day you’ll carry my pups…belly so swollen and full. Gods I’ll take such good care of you.”
Hermione gulps. Her coffee coloured eyes bore into him, frozen under the shock of his confession. She had no idea he still felt the same way as he did all those years ago.
“All in good time, baby,” she whispers.
She watches the corners of his lips tug into a smile, mercurial eyes shimmering with hope. His hands run languidly across her thighs, his touch setting her skin alight.
“Do you mean that?” he asks.
Hermione nods, capturing his lips and whispering a breathy, “yes.” She twines her arms around his neck and pulls him back down with her, melting into the mattress with his full weight pressing against her.
She places a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth, unwrapping her hands from around his neck to cup his face. She kisses one cheek, then the other, placing a gentle peck on the tip of his nose before kissing the corner of his mouth, and purposefully avoiding his lips.
Draco nudges his nose against hers, angling his head to capture her mouth. Bringing her game of teasing the wolf to a swift end. He kisses her once, twice, thrice in quick concession causing the two of them to giggle against each other's mouths.
Framing her shoulders with his forearms he rolls his hips, continuously slamming into her at a rate that makes stars float around her head. Hermione’s cunt flutters around him, fire pooling low in her abdomen. She brings her knees up, brushing them along his rib cage and locking them high on his torso.
“Mate me,” she whispers blissfully.
Those two words are all it takes for Draco’s cock to swell at the base as he knots himself inside of her, locking them together. His nose drags against the gland on her neck, sharp teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. He kisses her throat, trailing a scorching path as he moves closer to her scent gland.
“Please, Alpha,” she begs, nails clawing at his back.
“Such a good omega…absolutely perfect for me.”
“Draco…”
It’s the low purr of his given name that makes him sink his teeth into her. Claiming her as his omega and binding their souls together for the rest of eternity. She can feel her magic crackle across her skin, the feeling intensifying as it marries with his own. Encasing them in a gold luminescence.
Draco peels himself from the crook of her neck and gently rests his forehead against hers. Cocooned in a blanket of magic, their bodies pressing tightly together, she notices something different about his eyes.
His usual silver stare is gilded gold.
A rapturous sigh catches in her throat when his pelvis bumps her clit, triggering another orgasm as he spills himself inside of her, white ropes of come kissing her cervix. As the last shockwaves of their coupling simmer, her velvet walls pulse around him milking his cock for her own pleasure.
Draco collapses on top of her and her body groans in protest, but she doesn’t say anything. He glistens from the thin layer of sweat that coats his skin, and If it wasn’t for his weight bearing down on her, she’d believe he were a figment of her imagination. She enjoys the feeling of his body against her, skin on skin contact is something Hermione thrives on. It adds a whole new level of intimacy to their relationship and she’s missed having her world in her arms.
Tender fingers brush through his white-blond hair, pushing the fallen strands away from his face, careful to avoid his injuries. His breathing steadies to that of a low purr, limbs relaxing against her. Hermione hooks her legs around his waist, clinging to her mate as they slowly come back around from their intense mating.
“There’s always a home for you here, pup,” she whispers.
Draco’s eyes are a soft silver again as he lifts his head to face her. His forehead creases at the new nickname, “Pup?”
Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, she traces her nails across his shoulders and into the hair at his nape. “I’m just teasing, baby.”
“I quite like it,” he mumbles, reaching to kiss her.
His kisses are softer and gentler, she can tell he’s savouring the way her lips feel against his own. As though this’ll be the (second) last time they see each other again. “I’m never leaving you again,” he whispers, “I’m not going to run away. We can figure this out together, it was torture without you.”
“I thought about you everyday. Not a second went by where my thoughts weren’t consumed by you. It was like you were a constant tug on my heart, I’m just glad that invisible string finally pulled us back together again.”
She cradles him against her chest whilst his knot deflates, continuing to run her fingers through his hair and trace the dark arch of his eyebrow. She can sense Draco’s reluctance as he collapses next to her in a panting heap. With an outstretched arm he drags her against his broad frame, not wasting a single second in not having her close.
They lie naked atop crisp burgundy sheets, wrapped in an embrace of gentle kisses and tender touches. His pale complexion replicates marble under the soft glimmer of moonlight that streams through cracked curtains.
With her cheek pressed against his chest, she traces her fingertips across the width of his chest; whilst his fingers trail languorously down her spine. Their breaths are steady, hearts beating in perfect tandem. His touch soothes her like a lullaby, allowing her to melt into his embrace in a way that leaves her feeling safe and protected.
The buzz of a low hum vibrates from his throat down to her chest. Tightening his arm around her, he pulls her almost fully on top of him. His free hand glides down her thigh, and hitches her leg across his waist.
Hermione nudges her nose against his neck, soaking in his scent as she asks, “Are you okay?”
“Mhm,” he responds, too spent to form words.
“Sure?” she checks.
“Perfect,” he replies, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Did you mean what you said?”
She shifts her head to look up at him, “About?”
His throat bobs and she can tell he’s trying to find the right words to say.
“About always having a home here?”
She smiles with a warmth that makes the icy cage of his heart melt.
“Of course I do. Have Nellie bring your things tomorrow, I’d love to see her again.”
Releasing a gruff laugh he says, “Since when are you best friends with my house elf, Hermione?”
“She’s always been my best friend. Does she still wear the pillowcase dress I made her?”
“She never takes it off.”
Hermione smiles at the memory of Draco telling her he’d set his house elves free. They refused freedom though, still wanting to stay loyal to their master. Instead, Draco agreed to pay them whatever salary they wanted and provide them with everything they required to call his manor their home too.
In celebration, Hermione had made them all a piece of clothing as a token of her gratitude towards Draco.
“I’ll have to make her some more.” Her words trail off into a yawn.
“Get some sleep, love. I’ll still be here when you wake up.” His fingers dance across her shoulders, coaxing her to sleep. “You can conquer the world of elf fashion when you wake up.”
Snuggling closer—if it was even at all possible—she kisses his chest. “Promise?”
Hermione hesitantly awaits his response, wondering if now will be their official start in forever. Or, if this will be the second time they say goodbye.
“Always and forever. I’ll even make you tea and breakfast, just the way you like it.”
His promise is sealed with a kiss on her forehead. Draco wandlessly accios the thick knitted blanket from the chair opposite the bed, and drapes it over the two of them. They settle down for a good night’s sleep, with forever ahead of them.
Forever. That sounds nice.