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“Well, he’s a virgin.”
Throughout her life, Hermione Granger had heard a great many things about Draco Malfoy. She felt sometimes as though she was an expert on the man, becoming hyper vigilant of the actions of her bully in their school years, overly aware of him as a coworker in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Just in case, she reasoned with herself, just in case he decided to revert to his childhood ways of acting absolutely ghoulish. This, however, was a new rumor.
“There’s simply no way. I heard he lost it to Pansy Parkinson in school.”
Hermione poured hot water from the kettle into her mug a little slower. She strained to hear what Lisa Turpin was saying to her old housemate, Padma Patil.
“Yes, that’s what I thought too. My sister went on a couple dates with him in the spring, though, and said he wouldn’t put out.”
Lisa snorted. “How many is a couple? I love your sister, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she was trying to do that before the first date even started.”
Padma shrugged. “I mean, you’re not wrong. But it was like… five or six dates. She gave up after the last one. He made some excuse and she felt like he didn’t find her attractive, so she put an end to it.”
“Waiting for marriage.” Lisa sighed. “Such a old fashioned thing to do. Doesn’t surprise me, but it is a shame.”
Hermione’s cheeks colored at that, a betrayal. She wasn’t blind. Everyone knew exactly how much Draco had come into his looks in his late twenties. It didn’t surprise her a bit that he always seemed to be the center of office gossip. This new tidbit surprised her, though.
It just couldn’t be true.
— — —
“Gin, do you think Malfoy’s a virgin?”
Ginny Potter looked up from where she was spoon feeding mashed sweet potatoes to her youngest.
“Absolutely not. What makes you say that?”
Hermione looked to the window behind Ginny in the Potter’s kitchen, hoping it would quell the flush in her cheeks. “Overheard it in the break room.”
Ginny shook her head. “No. He lost it to Pansy in fifth year. Which I know for a fact. I overheard her talking about it to Millicent in the girl’s loo at school after the fact. Apparently, it was quite painful.”
Figured Malfoy would be a selfish enough lover to cause hurt. Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Apparently Parvati dated him in the spring and he refused to be sexual with her.”
Ginny dabbed at the corners of Lily Lina’s mouth with a cloth. “Maybe he’s a bit frigid. For it surprise you that much?”
Hermione knew there wasn’t any hiding her red cheeks now. “I just figured, well…”
“He is an extremely good looking man,” Ginny said a bit wistfully. “So it does seem a shame. But his personality is horrid. Or was, anyway. I don’t know why anyone would want to sleep with him.”
“You’re right.” Hermione tapped a quiet rhythm on the kitchen table. “I suppose I was just curious.”
Ginny raised a brow, but said nothing further.
— — —
“Morning, Granger.”
Sometimes Malfoy acknowledged her; sometimes he did not. This was no different than any other Thursday morning. So why did the collar of her modest button down feel so tight? Why was the office so warm? It was open enough there should have been plenty of air circulation.
Hermione said nothing in return and Malfoy continued on to his desk.
It was a good thing he was sat behind her because there was nothing she wanted more in this moment than to study him. She had, of course, done so a bit over the years. Hell, they’d even worked a case or two together. That had been easy. She hadn’t been bothered a bit. What had gotten into her?
She heard him clear his throat from somewhere over her left shoulder. It was probably rude that she hadn’t returned his greeting.
“Good morning, Malfoy.” She turned to face him and he looked up from where he had been scribbling furiously - most notably using an ink pen rather than a quill.
He gave her an amused look and the corner of his mouth quirked up into what one could call a smile.
“Hello.”
“Hi.”
Hermione felt heat rise to her face and she turned around quickly. What the actual fuck?!
It wasn’t that she was attracted to Draco Malfoy. He just happened to be attractive. She had never before had the thoughts she had of him the past few days. Well, maybe once or twice on cold and desperate nights, but now Draco Malfoy and the sex he was or was not having seemed to consume her every spare thought.
“Say, Granger, do you have any of those little sticky yellow papers you so love?”
Hermione glanced to the corner of her desk where a stack of Post-It notes sat.
“Yes.” She didn’t turn around.
“Would you mind if I used a few?”
Hermione reached for a small pad, tossed it over her shoulder without a glance behind her.
Draco chuckled. “Thanks, Granger.”
Several moments passed in silence.
“These are quite the invention, Granger. Do you bring them in yourself?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “No. They’re in the supplies budget per my request.”
“So there are more of them hidden away somewhere?”
She rolled her eyes again. “I wouldn’t say hidden away, Malfoy. They’re just in the storage closet.”
“Ah.”
She heard a chair scrape against the floor behind her and it wasn’t until his shadow crossed her desk that she put two and two together.
“Would you mind showing me where they are? It’s just that I’m not sure what the packaging looks like, so I’m afraid I’ll never be able to-“
“Come on, then,” Hermione cut him short, standing to brush invisible lint from her pencil skirt. “Follow me.”
Like a dog, he did.
Hermione was all too aware of the swing of her hips in front of him, on a gaze that lingered there. She’d turn into a tomato if this kept up.
Pulling her wand from its arm band holster, she tapped it against the supply closet door twice, granting them access.
“They’re just-well… there.”
On the tallest shelf, one that she could certainly not reach, standing only a hair over five feet tall. Fortunately for her, she was a witch.
Hermione made to lift her wand once more but paused mid-cast at the feel of Malfoy’s much larger figure pressed against her back. He was so close she could feel the press from his metal belt buckle against her spine.
“I’ll just-“
His arm extended above her, reaching for a small carton of the multicolored papers.
Hermione could hardly breath. He smelled like leather and sandalwood, and he was warm. She always thought Malfoy would be cold as stone; it’s what his stoic demeanor suggested. But here he was, pressed tight against her and absolutely burning up.
Hermione gasped.
“Granger?”
She spun around and his arm was back at his side, the box looking small in his wide grip.
“Well, that’s where they are.”
Her voice was hardly more than a whisper.
Draco nodded as his eyes scanned her face. They seemed a darker shade of grey and Hermione was afraid to read into what that meant.
“Thank you.”
Neither made to move.
“I like this blouse.” The fingers of his free hand came up to her collar, caressed the fabric and it’s perfectly ironed point. “It’s a fetching color on you.”
Hermione, as if possessed, brought a hand up to rest on his chest. They both looked at it in surprise.
“We should probably leave this closet,” Hermione whispered.
Draco nodded. “I don’t quite want to.”
“Oddly enough, neither do I.”
Draco took a step back anyway, motioned towards the open door.
“After you, Granger.”
She exited and he followed her once more.
— — —
If the thoughts had plagued her before, it was like a downright disease now.
Draco Malfoy occupied entirely too much of Hermione’s brain space and she was sick over it.
They were an impossible pair. Two opposites, a former bully and his victim. He’d said cruel things. He’d done cruel things. Hell, she’d punched him square in the nose for it. Why, for the love of Merlin, was she lusting so hard after the man?
It seemed like his desk was closer than ever before. His presence behind her in the office was constant and it was as though she could feel his eyes studying her. Merlin only knew what the back of her head looked like.
Something had to give.
“Granger?”
He sure was asking her a lot of questions lately.
“Yes, Malfoy?”
She heard him take a steadying breath. “That little contraption you use? The one where you press down and the parchment pieces stay together together?”
Hermione couldn’t stop her smile. “A stapler?”
“Sure. Don’t suppose we have an extra of those lying around, do we?”
Hermione nodded. “Should be in the closet. Would you like my help finding it?”
They both knew that he knew what it looked like. It was in his direct view this very moment, sitting at the head of her desk.
“I’d really appreciate that, Granger.”
She stood, once more brushing imaginary lint from the skirt of her sheath dress.
“Shall we?”
This time, her hand trembled when she tapped her wand to the door.
“It should be just-“
The door clicked closed behind them.
Hermione turned to face Draco. “Why did you-“
He stepped closer and the words caught in her throat.
“Because I needed to do this.”
His hand caught under her chin, knuckles tilting her face up so that she was angles perfectly to receive his kiss.
And receive she did.
Hermione was fairly certain she’s never been kissed like this before. There was an intensity to it that was unparalleled, a lazy but insistent exploration with his lips and tongue and teeth that had her every nerve ending alight.
He pulled away and she followed him like a magnet, their lips meeting once more, his turned in a cheeky smile.
“Granger-“
“Why don’t you have sex?”
The words were out of her mouth before she had time to think about it.
“Beg your pardon?”
Hermione had turned a previously unseen shade of red.
“Well, it’s just that last week, I overheard-“
Draco sighed. “Is that why you’ve been giving me the look?”
“What?”
Draco looked at the floor. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for ages, Granger. Then, last week, something shifted. At first I thought I was seeing things. That look in your eye. I figured that’s why you agreed to help me.”
His nose scrunched and Hermione thought it cute.
“But now- I guess I see what it was about. Heard a silly rumor and figured you were up for the challenge?”
Hermione shook her head vigorously. “You’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t believe it for a second. I was only curious.”
Draco gave her a look. “Well hopefully your curiosity has been satiated.”
“Hardly.”
Draco grinned at that. “For the record, I do have sex. When it feels right and when it’s with someone I truly care about.”
Hermione ran her pointer finger under the collar of her dress. She cleared her throat.
“I suppose probably in a bed, as well.”
Draco smirked. “To be honest, I think I could care quite deeply about someone in a supplies closet.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, we probably should-“
She shut him up with a firm grip to his necktie, pulling him down to her once more.
“Are you sure,” he mumbled into her mouth, hands finding her hips and giving a firm squeeze.
“Yes,” Hermione hissed. Her fingers were already sliding against his buttons, tugging at them in frustration, slipping her fingers between the gaps when they wouldn’t come undone.
“No time.” He lifted her, pressed her against the shelves at her back. “I promise you, Granger, I will be so very slow and gentle with you later.”
Her dress had ridden high on her thighs and she wrapped them tighter around his hips.
“But for now, we’re still very much in the middle of the work day.”
She felt his fingers sneak between her thighs, brush over the layer of nylon covering her knickers.
“I’ll get you another pair,” he spoke into her cheek as he ripped her stockings from her body. The hole he’s created gave him ample access to her center, his fingers finding the cotton covering her core already soaked through.
“Fuck, Hermione.”
She whined softly. “It’s been all I can think about.”
“Should’ve said something sooner. I could’ve taken care of you.” His fingers snuck beneath the fabric, the length of one breaching her slowly, pressing into her wet center.
“S’alright,” she slurred through her pleasure, overwhelmed by the feeling of him crooked inside. “We need to be quick. You can just-“
“I know.” He grunted softly. “I know, but I can’t.”
She was almost worried he’d changed his mind until he pressed against the inside of her thigh, his cock hard in his trousers.
No wonder Pansy had said it hurt.
A second finger fit snugly inside of her and she could hear herself now, hear the sucking squelch her body made as it fought to keep him inside.
“Soon,” he murmured, licking into her mouth for another kiss. “I can’t promise I’ll last very long.”
“I don’t care,” Hermione squealed as he found the spot just inside that made her squirm. “I just need you. Please, Draco, I want you so badly it hurts.”
And it had begun to. Her abdomen felt tight with an impending release - much needed. But she needed to feel him first.
“Okay.” He exhaled shakily. “Okay.”
She heard the clank of his belt being undone, the slow descent of his zipper. Then she felt him, pressed against her like he was waiting permission.
Her gaze has been fixed at where the met but now she caught his eyes and saw that he was waiting.
Hermione smiled softly. “Go on, then.”
He gave her a quick peck before pressing forward. He watched them and she watched him, studied the way his lips parted and his brow furrowed as he buried inch after slow inch inside of her.
She wasn’t sure she’s ever been so full before. She snuck a hand between their bodies, her fingers making a v shape around him in a desperate attempt to hold herself wider for his plundering.
“I’m sorry.” She watched his throat bob as he swallowed hard. “Is it too much?”
“No.” She pushed her hips against him as much as she could suspended against the shelving. “Just thick.”
He made a strangled sort of noise at that.
“Keep going.”
He fit himself fully inside of her and let her squeeze and flutter around him until she was acclimated. She knew it had to be difficult if his labored breathing was any indication.
“Okay,” she breathed, wrapping fingers around the back of his neck and bringing him so close their foreheads touched. “I’m ready.”
He began to move, slow at first but steadily increasing his pace until she had to bite into her fist to keep from screaming at the pleasure. He was so deep, touching places inside of her she hadn’t known existed until this very moment. It was almost too much. It almost hurt.
Everything was dulled to her pleasure though, coalescing in a great ball of energy beneath her bellybutton, desperate for release.
“Fuck,” she groaned, head knocking into wood behind her. “It’s so good, it’s so fucking good.”
She knew she was babbling but every part of her was stretched around him, airtight. He was nudging against something she’d never reached before. His pace was steady, demanding. She felt herself growing tight.
“Is that it? Is that the spot?” He sounded pleased and a little patronizing and it was doing something to her that she didn’t expect.
“Are you going to cum for me, Granger?”
Her body responded with a clench.
“You are, aren’t you?” He moved a little quicker. “Gods, you’re so tight I can hardly move. That’s it, that’s my girl. Bear down on me just like that.”
Her eyes began to roll back as the coil within her tightened an impossible amount. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that her orgasm was going to nearly hurt her.
“Cum for me, Hermione. Cum on this cock.”
She did.
Her exhalation was attached to moan as she creamed around him, body contracting rhythmically in a way that encouraged his own end. He held himself to the root as he filled her, forehead notched into the curve where her neck and shoulder met.
“Good gods,” he groaned as he shifted unsteadily. Hermione was gripping him for dear life, like she may drift away to outer space if she let go.
When she finally found her voice, there was only one thing she could say.
“We have to do that again.”
Draco kissed her cheeks, her forehead, the tip of her nose. “Yes. And again, and again. And again.”