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Draco
Strobe lights assaulted his eyes in a wild array of colours, a loud thumping reverberated through his body. The dimly lit room was filled with people - too many of them, if you asked Draco – swaying to the beat that was violating his delicate senses. He couldn’t even bloody focus on the things right in front of him, the lighting made it impossible. Everything seemed to move, yet stand still at the same time.
Each and every one of them was covered in a thin glowing sheen of sweat and the placed smelled even fucking worse than his cell in Azkaban. Alcohol, sweat, cigarette smoke.
‘Why the bloody fucking hell did you bring me here, Blaise?’ Draco yelled into his mate’s ear – because talking at a socially acceptable volume just wasn’t possible.
‘We’re celebrating!’ He yelled back, a big smile on his face, his teeth turning a idiotic shade of blue as the light hit his face.
‘Why here?’
‘Because I can’t imagine the wizarding folk being happy to see that ugly mug of yours just yet.’ Blaise winked.
Draco wanted to tell him to sod off, but raised his middle finger instead, relaying the same message. Theo emerged from the crowd, three tumblers filled with what appeared to be whiskey in his hands.
‘Cheers, mate!’
The three of them raised their glasses and toasted, the sound of the ice clinking happily against the glass completely drowned in the music. The whiskey was cheap and a recipe for a major hangover in the morning. Theo and Blaise didn’t seem to mind as they drank it at once without any trouble.
Draco hated it.
Every single second of it.
It was too loud. After seven years of solitary confinement on that blasted rock – which name he now deemed a taboo – he wasn’t fucking ready to be thrown into something akin to hell like this. He wanted a quiet evening in his Manor, getting acquainted with normal life again. Celebrating his release with good whiskey, good company. Not… this .
‘Let’s go to the other area.’ Theo yelled as he pointed towards somewhere unknown to Draco. Salazar, there were more areas . If he had known Blaise and Theo were taking him to a Muggle club he would’ve dressed differently. With his long overcoat, his vest and tie he looked sorely out of place. He was sorely out of place. And he was bloody fucking hot. To make matters even worse, he couldn’t even cast a cooling down charm because he hadn’t gotten his wand back and wasn’t quite comfortable using wandless magic yet.
Blaise grabbed him by his shoulders and directed him to trail behind Theo making his way through the masse of people. When they reached a quieter hallway, Draco was able to catch his breath for a moment. He watched his friends who looked completely at ease in the environment. And completely not overheated .
‘Blaise, cast me a sodding cooling charm.’
With a chuckle and a mutter from one of his best friends, he could feel cool air brushing up to his body and felt immediate relief.
Truly, Draco was more than overjoyed to be free. To be with his friends again. That they had gone to the trouble of throwing him a celebration, may it be in a blasting Muggle club. He should just make the most of it, he decided, no one here knew him, after all.
Theo pushed open a large door and a different kind of music took over his senses. The lighting wasn’t as bad as in the previous area, it was smoother… Easier on the eyes. The loud thumping that had given him bloody heart palpitations wasn’t present even though the music was extremely loud.
Draco looked around and almost choked on his own air.
‘Blaise, what the…?’
Blaise had the filthiest smirk on his face, showing his true Slytherin nature, but didn’t say a thing.
The way these Muggles danced… Draco didn’t know what hit him.
It was…
Gods, if his mother could only see.
The utter inappropriateness.
His eyes fell on Theo, who had left his place beside him and now stood at the edge of the crowd, a woman with sleek brown hair standing in front of him wearing a short black dress, his hands on her hips. Her backside grinding against his crotch as if..
As if..
Salazar’s tits.
This couldn’t be normal.
Could it?
They moved together on the beat, both of them a smile on their face. Up and down in time with the music, her hips going round and round, Theo’s following. Her hands were on his hands, holding them in place. Draco felt as if he was invading a private moment but he couldn’t look away.
Suddenly, the beat had gotten faster and the woman bent forward, placed her hands on her knees and shook her arse violently against Theo’s trouser clad cock. Theo held on tight to her hips and watched there where their bodies met intently.
Sweet FUCKING Merlin – what the fuck.
‘Blaise!!??’
‘This is the way of the Muggles, Drake. Who are we to judge?’
Blaise ushered him to a rounded booth, the fake black leather of the couch extremely sticky to the touch. From there, they could perfectly see the dancefloor, as Blaise called it. He brought back a bottle from the bar and filled up a new glass for Draco.
Draco didn’t know where to look. Every inch of the establishment was filled with people dry humping . With a sigh, he drained his glass in one go, filling it up again straight away.
Theo sauntered towards them, his curls sticking to the front of his head, his cheeks a bit rosy from the rancid heat that pressed upon their skins in such a ferocious way, not even a cooling charm could battle it. The brunette trailed behind him, her lips perked around a large neon pink straw emerging from a tall glass.
‘Rox, this is Drake. He just got – err… Back!’ Theo shouted whilst pointing at Draco who gave a curt nod as a greeting. The brunette gave an equally curt wave, greeted Blaise with another before whisper-shouting something unintelligible to Draco in Theo his ear. His friend grabbed her by her waist and pulled her in close as he buried his tongue deep into the woman's mouth. Theo ended their kiss – could one really call that a kiss, though? – by biting on her lower lip, making a bloody show of it. With a devious smile, Rox winked, before walking in the other direction.
Merlin’s bollocks, did no one here had any sense of decorum?
He drained another glass. And another.
By now, Draco had gotten a bit used to the loud sounds, the flickering lights, the permanent smoke clogging up his airways. Or maybe it was the fact he had finished half of the bottle of whiskey by now.
Blaise sat beside him, an easy smile on his face, his head moving to the beat, his fingers tapping the table in tandem. Theo was gone, again, said something about finding that woman. Apparently, they had met before and Theo was dead set on taking her home tonight. Or rather, her taking him home. Couldn’t bring Muggles into the haunted house that was Nott Manor.
Draco his eyes made their way over the dancefloor and maybe he tapped his foot a bit as he listened to the music. Women and men dancing together, women dancing with each other in little groups, grinding and shaking their arses. Hands roaming over bodies bordering public indecency. Well, full on public indecency, that is. Draco thought this whole ordeal to be rather indecent. They moved so freely. So unburdened. All of them sparkled with transpiration as if stardust had settled over them. Never in his wildest dreams could he ever imagine himself letting go like that, having his cock grind upon by a woman, fully clothed, surrounded by other people.
They all moved to the beat, singing some pieces of the songs aloud. He heard Spanish, something bordering English, there was rapping. It was eclectic. Lights illuminating every move, hips gyrating, hands in the air, people smiling.
In the middle of the dancefloor stood a woman with curls that lit up like caramel on fire when the strobe light hit her, moving sensually on her own. She danced as if there was no one around her, completely lost in the sensation of the music. She flowed with the beat as if she was the embodiment of magic itself, captivating him effortlessly.
‘RED!’ The wizard next to him suddenly yelled out loud, startling him. Blaise stood up and his hand shot in the air, trying to gain someone’s attention. Who the hell was Red?
His question was answered before he could actually ask.
The Weaslette came walking towards their booth. Red long hair pinpoint straight, a silver shimmering dress that barely covered her arse, her hips swaying lusciously, her absurdly high heels accentuating her toned and very on display legs. Bloody hell. Blaise had mentioned becoming friendly with the Gryffindor but the way her eyes roved over his best friend, Draco was sure as fuck they were more than friendly.
The moment she noticed Draco, she stopped right in her tracks. Her eyes turned big before a smirk appeared and she came, hips swaying, closer. That smirk. Draco didn’t like that smirk. That smirk meant trouble.
Ginny scooted into the booth, settling next to Blaise. With a barely noticeable wave of her hand, the music around them toned down and he could hear her perfectly as she spoke.
‘My, my… Was Azkaban done with your ferrety arse?’
‘Ginevra.’ Draco drawled, throwing back yet another glass.
Blaise snaked his arm around Ginny's waist and pulled her closer as he whispered in her ear, loud enough for him to hear now. ‘Now, be a good girl , Red.’
Yes. Definitely shagging.
‘Well, fuck me. If that isn’t Draco Lucius Malfoy.’
The Weaselette laughed but Blaise was suddenly on alert, his back straight.
A whirlwind of dark caramel curls settled next to him. Caramel curls .
‘It probably isn’t a nice thing to say, but prison sure did you good. Godric be damned.’ The sentence ended in a whistle.
He slowly turned to see the face that belonged to those curls and was met with a familiar sight.
Hermione fucking Granger. Who was eyeing him as if he was edible. What the fuck?
Skin tight emerald green dress, dark caramel curls. Was this the same woman he had been staring at? It couldn’t be. Hermione Granger sure looked good, but that woman on the dancefloor had moved like a bloody goddess.
‘I think, love, you need to limit Granger's drinks.’ Blaise drawled, one eyebrow raised, looking at the Weaselette.
‘Nah, she’s having fun.’ The redhead waved Blaise his concerns away, literally.
‘I am. Tremendously.’ Granger drawled right back.
‘Having a girls’ night?’ Blaise asked. ‘I’ve never seen you here before, Granger.’
‘Nope, this is a celebration.’ Granger said, before her friend could answer. ‘It’s a bachelorette party.’
‘What she means is,’ Weaselette said with a sigh, ‘is that we are celebrating that she is a bachelorette again.’
‘So you finally got rid of the Weasel?’ Draco asked and he couldn’t say he wasn’t intrigued. During his incarceration, he had access to the Prophet, but hadn’t read this particular tidbit of information. ‘That calls for a toast.’
‘No, Malfoy. That calls for SHOTS.’ Granger smirked and practically jumped out of the booth, her hips swaying as she purposefully made her way to the bar.
‘Oh… Fuck. Shots.’ Blaise sighed.
‘Ready for a party, handsome?’ Ginevra smirked, her hand disappearing in Blaise his button up.
Hermione
Godric, save her.
It should be illegal.
Why the hell did Draco Malfoy look like sex on legs?
Normal people would get out of prison looking like utter shite. But not Draco Malfoy. Of course not Draco Malfoy.
Hermione looked back at the booth as she waited for the server to get her a bottle of tequila. His hair had been shaven short at the sides, tattoos in his neck all up to where his hair was longer on the top. How many tattoos did he have? How did he get them? What was hiding underneath that absolute poncy arse outfit of his? Who the hell wore a vest to a club? Grey and a deep purple tie, his button up white. He looked completely out of place. He looked completely fucking delicious. He was wide. Even his bloody neck was wide. Fucking hell, he must be all muscled up.
His tattooed fingers adorned with rings, holding his tumbler nonchalantly as he tipped it back, drinking the content in one single big gulp. With his thumb he swiped his lower lip.
Sure, she was a bit tipsy. A bit.
She wasn’t tipsy enough to blame that involuntary clenching of her thighs to the alcohol, though. Nope. That was all Draco Malfoy. Tattooed, big and knickers-ruining Draco fucking Malfoy.
And what had she said to him? It probably isn’t a nice thing to say, but prison sure did you good. Godric be damned. And she whistled. Whistled! Mortifying.
Hermione knew that once she got her drinks flowing, her usually well maintained and very guarded filter flew out the fucking window and she let her ADD brain just word vomit whatever it fucking pleased. As she had done now.
But fuck, he looked good .
Actually… He looked like the perfect rebound.
Armed with a tray stacked with a full bottle of tequila, four shot glasses, a bottle of salt and a container of sliced lemons, she made her way back. Her eyes met Malfoy’s silver ones, and she smirked. Hermione Granger was a woman on a mission. Main objective? Getting Draco Lucius Malfoy between her legs. Preferably for a prolonged period of time.
‘What are you smirking about, Granger?’ He drawled as soon as she entered the sound bubble Ginny had cast.
‘When was the last time you were drunk?’
‘Seven years ago.’ He said, a bit hesitant.
‘Well, then it’s long overdue, don’t you think?’
‘No way Malfoy, when did you get out exactly?’ Ginny asked.
‘We picked him up this morning,’ Blaise said. ‘So, we’re having a celebration too, actually.’ He let his finger trail over Ginny's arm, the contrast between their skins a beautiful one. ‘What do you think Red, are you ready for a party?’
‘Well, our best friends are finally free.’ Ginny pondered, feigning a heavy seriousness. ‘I think Hermione was right. Shots are in order.’
‘You can’t compare Azkaban with –‘
‘Oh fucking yes I can!’ Ginny interjected spiritedly before Hermione could finish. ‘He was an absolute twat and he imprisoned you in a different way, ‘Mione.’
Probably not wanting Hermione to argue with her, Ginny grabbed the glasses and lined them up. Sloppily she poured all four of them to the brim with tequila.
‘Malfoy?’ Hermione asked as she got a hold of the salt. ‘Have you done tequila shots before?’ She didn’t want to presume, it was a rather Muggle drink, after all. And she had a little idea coming to life, if she dared to execute it, that is.
‘I, err- haven’t. But seeing all the attributes, I surmise there’s a ritual of some sorts.’
‘Ritual.’ Ginny snorted and Blaise shoved her with his shoulder playfully.
‘You lick the salt, drink the shot and then bite the lemon.’ She pointed at each as she explained.
‘How does one ‘lick the salt’ exactly?’ He drawled, eyeing the bottle.
Hermione looked him once over again. Malfoy always had been attractive. Maybe the bad boy always had some sort of appeal, at least, that is how she justified her little crush on him back in Hogwarts. But now? Bad boy didn’t even bloody cover it. He was a fever dream coming to life. Who knew when she’d ever see him again? The chances were small. Very small.
Fuck it.
She was a witch on a mission.
She took his wrist and turned it around, the back of his hand, covered in ink, now facing up. Never losing eye contact, she brought it up to her mouth and leisurely traced a trail from his knuckles to his wrist with her tongue. His mouth fell open, his breathing hitched and his pupils dilated.
She could hear Blaise saying oh fucking shit and Ginny hollering a get it girl .
Still holding his gaze, Hermione poured the salt over his now wet hand.
‘Like that.’
Malfoy just looked at her, open-mouthed.
Fuck, had she gone too fast?
Draco
Had he stepped into an alternate reality?
Or had he finally lost his bloody marbles and this was all just some trick his mind was playing with him and he was still in Az.
Or was the Golden Girl really licking his hand?
First she looked at him like… Well.. Like she wanted to lick every inch of him – which, when he truly thought about it, was actually rather appealing, which also in turn explained why the fuck his trousers had gotten a bit more tighter – and now she actually had her tongue on his bloody skin. Those eyes.
Salazar fuck him.
He could imagine those eyes looking up at him like that, her lips wrapped tightly around his cock.
He had imagined that precise scenario, often - because who wouldn’t want to shut up the biggest swot of the school in that particular way – but now he had the actual visual to it? He was quite well versed in the self-pleasure department, a side-effect of being in solitary confinement he supposed, and Draco already knew this visual was going to bloody haunt him the next time he had his cock in his hand.
With the same intensity as she had watched him, he watched her, his tongue following the same path as hers had done, licking up every tiny grain of salt. He could see her pupils overtaking the brown, leaving but the tiniest specks of gold visible.
As if it had been yesterday he had properly taken shots for the last time, Draco threw back the translucent rather foul tasting liquid, which made the lemon bitten afterwards a somewhat pleasant taste in comparison. With a shudder he spat out the yellow fruit.
‘Why do people drink this willingly?’ He asked no one in particular, his face a grimace.
Blaise laughed. ‘Because it’s the fastest way to get absolutely shitfaced, mate.’
‘In the tequila’s defense,’ Ginny said as she filled his glass again, ‘This is the cheapest fucking brand available. I guess the expensive stuff tastes a thousand times better.’
Beside him, Hermione licked the salt from her own hand, winked at him – winked! – and emptied her glass without even a muscle in her body reacting to it. She traced the edge of the lemon with her tongue before biting down on it properly.
‘That’s it, Red, we’re out of here.’
‘Why?’ The Weaselette pouted.
‘I can’t watch these people trying to eye-fuck. Let’s dance.’
Blaise gently pushed the red headed witch out of the booth and they disappeared onto the dancefloor. Left alone with Granger, he suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. Not because of her. But, what the fuck was he supposed to say?
‘Can I ask you something?’ Granger broke the silence between them.
‘Err, yes?’
‘Why are you wearing so many clothes? It’s bloody hot in here.’
Draco looked at the witch her dress, that left little to the imagination, and then to himself, layered up.
‘They didn’t tell me where we were going.’
‘But why don’t you lose the vest, the tie? Roll up your sleeves?’
‘That’s err – ‘
‘Not permitted by etiquette?’ Granger smirked.
Draco sighed and let his head fall back against the sofa, immediately regretting his decision as he felt the sticky leather against his head.
‘May I?’
‘May you, what exactly?’
She didn’t answer but started unbuttoning his vest, letting it fall open. Next was his tie. With practiced movements, she loosened it and pulled it over his head. Then came his top buttons and he swore he felt her fingertips on his skin, just there.
At last her attention turned to his sleeves and now he was absolutely sure she traced the lines of his tattoos with her fingers as she rolled them up and secured them just beneath his elbow. Her index finger followed the edge of the large vein of his underarm. Her touch left a trail of fire and he couldn’t do anything but watch her.
He cleared his throat. ‘Care to tell me when you became so forward, Miss Granger?’
‘I’m a Gryffindor on a mission, Mr. Malfoy.’
‘That actually explains a whole lot.’ Draco muttered into his half empty glass of whiskey.
‘Dance with me.’
‘Is that also part of your mission?’
‘Could be.’
‘Will you be telling me your mission or do you want me to guess.’
‘Malfoy, stop talking and dance with me.’
‘I don’t do this kind of dancing.’
‘Why not?’
‘Really Granger, look at me and look at all those people on the dancefloor.’
‘Are you afraid?’
‘Don’t be daft.’
‘Then dance with me.’
‘That’s not dancing, that’s dry humping.’
The witch chuckled and leaned in closer, her breath ghosting across the shell of his ear. ‘It’s loads of fun, Malfoy. You should try it.’
Before he could object any further, Granger grabbed his hand with more strength he anticipated and tugged him out of the booth. She didn’t let go and pulled him to the back of the dancefloor, a bit of an obscured corner, where the lights didn’t fully hit them.
She got up on her toes, her heels not high enough for them to be levelled and told him to hold on, placing his hands on her hips. Turned around, her back now pressed against his front, she started to move. He could feel her arse swaying against him, her curls tickling the skin of his neck. Their fingers entwined on her hips. Her perfume battling for dominance over the smells of the club, trying to drown him in a scent that was wholly Granger. He could feel himself getting harder as the friction continued and the beautiful witch in front of him pressed herself against him with additional force.
Seeing and feeling her move, he realized the goddess he had seen lost in the music at the beginning of the night was now dancing in front of him and he became captivated once more.
The beat of the music shifted and she turned around, moving his hands lower and lower until he was cupping the curve of her bum. He had to stifle a moan as the plump flesh filled his palms and squeezed softly. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. Granger threw her arms over his shoulders and her hips started to move in a practiced rhythm, bumping and grinding against his crotch. Her head was nestled against his chest and he could feel her hot breaths against his chest.
The slow song was replaced by a quicker one and Granger laughed, mischief twirling in her eyes. She turned around once more, her arse now so firmly against him – he was absolutely sure his cock was buried in between her cheeks because there was no other fucking possibility – she turned just her head and winked before bending over and her arse wiggled against him. He swore out loud and grabbed onto her hips to steady himself, his eyes fixated on the way Granger her backside was shaking against his now fully, painfully hard cock.
Fuck. This is what he had seen Theo do with that girl.
And didn’t he think to himself
he could never
?
Hermione
Maybe it was a bit unfair.
Hermione knew she could dance. She loved to dance. She also knew that if she wanted her mission to succeed, grinding her arse against Malfoy was the easiest way to entice him. Truth be told, she had never been this forward, but besides the fact she fully realized there was nothing to lose, there was also something about Malfoy that just made her feel bold.
There was a distinct bulge in his trousers now and Hermione made an effort to grind against him in such a way she was sure he would go bloody mental. Her back flushed his front, she grabbed him by the neck and buried her nails in his skin, holding on to him tightly.
‘Granger.’ He drawled.
Hermione turned, a smirk on her face, her movements never stopping. ‘Malfoy.’
‘What are you doing?’
‘Dancing.’ She answered innocently.
He groaned but pulled her tighter against him.
‘I told you it was fun.’
‘Granger.’
With a mutter, she cast another sound bubble, the music still loud enough for her to move but not so loud she had to shout.
‘Tell me, Malfoy. The last time you’ve been drunk was seven years ago. When was your last shag?’
‘You’re killing me, you know that.’
‘That would be a shame, with you just getting out of prison and everything.’ Hermione smiled sweetly.
‘Cheeky witch.’
‘Want to know my mission?’
‘I know what your mission is. Kill Draco Malfoy with your Muggle dancing skills. You are succeeding by the way, you should be proud.’
‘Actually it was: get Draco Malfoy between my legs.’
‘Pardon me?’
‘Get. Draco. Malfoy. Between. My. Legs.’
He stared at her, completely bewildered.
‘Oh Merlin, I have heard of people getting out of Azkaban without their wits, I had hoped it spared you.’
‘Granger.’ He drawled dangerously. ‘How long ago have you broken up with the twat?’
‘Long enough for me to decide I want to trace every line of ink on your body with my tongue.’
Draco chuckled. ‘You’ll be busy for quite a while then.’
A shiver ran over her body, imagining him completely tattooed and naked beneath her, not just her tongue but also her nails mapping every line etched into his skin.
‘So you just want me for my looks, is that it?’
‘Always has been.’ Hermione winked at him.
‘Always?’
‘You heard me. I do have to say, this look?’ She squeezed his biceps and appreciatively ran her eyes over his body, following her hands as they traveled from his biceps to his chest and lower, where she felt a bloody fucking sixpack . ‘This look really does something for me.’
‘Never took you for someone so shallow, Granger.’ His drawl was accompanied by a smirk.
‘Sod off, Malfoy. Want to fuck, yes or no?’
She had done it. She had rendered the sharp tongued Malfoy speechless,
and she was loving it.
With a tug on his button up, she pulled his face close to hers and he let her. Hermione had the feeling he’d let her do anything. Her tongue darted out and she licked his lower lip before sucking on it softly.
Draco
Without saying another word, he took her hand and walked outside.
‘We will splinch if we try to apparate.’
‘Probably.’ He answered, not ready to tell her he couldn’t quite use his magic yet.
Granger waved towards a car – yes he knew about cars, he wasn’t a fucking idiot – that had a sign on top. ‘Let’s grab a cab to mines.’
‘Yours alone of yours and your exes?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Fucking you in the Weasel his bed has a certain appeal, I can’t say otherwise.’
‘DRACO!’ Her voice indicated she was offended, but the smirk on her face said otherwise. He quite liked her calling him Draco.
The drive to her home was a quick one and before he knew it, he stood in the Golden Girl her livingroom. He realized he thought a lot of things to be impossible, especially tonight, but this? Maybe he skipped timelines? It sure seemed to be the same Granger though, her walls were lined with books, there were stacks of books throughout the townhouse and that monstrosity of an orange beast was napping on the sofa. There was a giant lazy chair next to the hearth and he could see a Muggle telly apparatus. On the other side of the room was a parchment littered desk standing in a small conservatory and he could see fairy lights stringed throughout her garden.
‘It’s not a manor…’
‘It’s a home.’ Draco said and he could see the sentiment hit her when he found her eyes. He meant it too. The place breathed love in a way only a true home did and growing up in absence of it for most of his life, he knew the distinct difference.
‘Do you want a drink?’ Granger asked from what he presumed was the kitchen.
‘Only if you have the good stuff.’
She walked towards him, a bottle of Ogdens in her hand. ‘I saved this for a special occasion. Will this be up to your standards, Mr. Malfoy?’
‘I think it will, Miss Granger. And your bachelorette-celebration is a special enough of an occasion?’
‘If it wasn’t, having you here sure is.’
He could feel his cheeks tinge a shade of red, not used to having someone talk to him like that and actually mean it. Because if there was one thing he was sure of in this world, it was that Hermione Granger truly spoke her mind. If there had been any doubt to that, tonight would’ve been enough proof for him to know with certainty.
‘So tell me, Granger. Have you always been this bold?’ He accepted the glass with a good pour of his favorite beverage and sat down on the giant chair, opting not to invoke the wrath of the purring beast by sitting on the sofa.
‘Actually, yes.’ She said with a chuckle. ‘You don’t know the half of it.’
The curly haired witch was standing in the doorway, now barefooted which struck him as intimate. She swirled her glass of whiskey, the tingles of the ice soft and gentle. She watched him like a hawk, drinking in every inch of him as if she was starved and he was the answer. He shifted in his seat, not quite sure as to how to react to this.
‘Am I making you uncomfortable?’ Granger asked after taking a sip.
‘Not in the usual sense.’
‘But uncomfortable no less…’
‘I just didn’t expect you to be such an ogler.’
‘An ogler?’ A snort with a small chuckle.
‘Yes. Hermione Supreme Swot Granger, ogling a Death Eater fresh out of prison.’
‘Don’t call yourself that. You know if it had been up to me, you wouldn't be sent to Azkaban.’
He knew. He remembered her spirited plea in the dark chambers of the Wizengamot. Hers and Potter’s. Not the Weasel, of course not the Weasel. It didn’t matter, though. It was a matter of showing to the public no Death Eater was spared and he, Pureblood Posterboy he was, had felt that the hardest. Theo had served two years too, and he barely had anything to do with the regime.
‘Though, I don’t think you’d look like this if you merely had a house arrest.’ She followed up with a wink.
‘Probably not. Not much to do in solitary confinement other than working out and having visits from Blaise to ink me up.’
‘Solitary!? For seven years? Malfoy, that’s inhumane!’
‘Better than getting killed, love.’
Granger huffed and he knew this was the kind of thing she couldn’t stand. The kind of thing that fired her up. The kind of thing that gotten her through the war, knowing she was fighting for the greater good.
‘But, as you said, I wouldn't be looking like this if I hadn’t.’ He drawled, trying to lift the mood.
‘Malfoy…’ A swallow. ‘I know it’s shallow and I shouldn’t joke about it, especially knowing about the solitary part, but Godric damned, have you looked in a bloody mirror lately?’
‘From time to time, yes.’ He said with a smirk. He knew how he looked. He knew there was a certain appeal. He just never expected the Brightest Witch of her Age to be into that kind of thing. Getting fully tattooed was as much as a fuck you to his upbringing as it had been a way to pass the time and he had known for certain there wasn’t a Pureblooded witch that would go for him now. A lot of things could be excused – especially with his last name – and even war crimes wouldn’t be an issue to get someone’s daughter to be married off to him, but this? Looking like he did now? That certainly did the trick. If the elite was serious about anything, it would be their bloody fucking image.
Granger took a step closer, her bare feet soundless on the hardwood floor.
‘Can I see?’ The question was asked almost breathlessly, her eyes filled with anticipation. He absolutely loved the way she looked at him and truth be told, he had been various stages of hard ever since she had licked his bloody hand. Draco still wasn’t quite sure what to think of it, though, but he was here now. Why not just go with it? It had been seven sodding years, after all.
His fingers went to his buttons and she followed them with her eyes meticulously. Slowly, one by one, he unbuttoned them. She tentatively took another step closer and worried her lip between her teeth. All buttons undone, the fabric fell to the sides, revealing his toned abdomen.
Granger let out a soft whine and promptly covered her mouth with her hand.
‘Really, Granger?’ He asked with amusement.
‘I’m a very visually oriented person, Malfoy.’ She sneered but it lacked a punch, her cheeks now a rosy red. She took another step closer, standing just inches away from him. Draco patted his knee in invitation and she perched upon it carefully, as if he was made of glass.
‘I won’t break.’
‘You don’t look like it, no.’
Draco let out a snort but his breath caught midway as one of her fingers brushed one of the feathers inked on his chest.
‘Are you even real?’ Granger asked in a whisper.
‘I was thinking the same thing about you, actually.’
‘I’m very real.’
‘Yea?’
She glided from her perch, landing on her knees in between his legs. Her big brown eyes looked up at him, piercingly so, when her tongue glided across one of the triangles on his lower belly. He hissed, the sensation an unexpected one. His abs rippled and she followed the movement with the tips of her fingers, catching the valleys in between with a soft brush. He grabbed the armrests and held on tight as he took in the show she was putting on, just from him.
As if his body was the masterpiece she had wanted to investigate as if it would be her life’s work, she mapped out every line of ink with her fingers and kissed every fading shade of shadow. Enthralled by the images on his skin, she made her way up to his chest, the sounds of her body, her lips, moving against his, the only one he could hear.
Warning him with a smirk, she bit down on his nipple softly as she passed it, his fingers turning white as snow from squeezing the armrest. He bucked his hips automatically, his cock pressing against her belly.
Suddenly, her hand was palming his erection and she leaned against him, her breath hot in his neck as she whispered, her voice edged with desire. ‘I am going to suck this cock, and I’m going to suck it so fucking good, you’ll never be able to think about anyone else but me when you have yourself buried in another witch her throat.’
‘Ever the overachiever.’ He drawled, trying to think of anything but her lips on him.
With a snap, his trousers vanished and his bare arse touched the worn velvet of the sofa. How the hell was she able to cast such magic in the state she was in? Which reminded him –
‘Granger, wait.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Wait – what?’
‘Don’t you want me to –‘
‘Trust me, I’d want nothing more than that , but do you?’
‘Didn’t I just say –‘
‘Well, yes, but you’re rather inebriated.’
‘Malfoy, I need you to at least come fucking once before I ride the ever living shit out of you, because you haven’t shagged in bloody ages and I want it to last, yea? Can’t have my rebound fuck done within a few sodding minutes because then it wouldn’t be a rebound fuck but just a sore reminder of the past few years of my life.’
‘Rebound fuck?’
‘Yes, you know – the person you sleep with right after you’ve ended a relationship.’
‘Wait, what?’
‘I can fill you in on the specifics later, if you really feel the need, but for now, could you just shut the fuck up?’
This witch…
Without any further warning she fisted his cock and he almost came right there and there. With a groan, his head fell back but when he felt the warm and wet heat of her mouth on him, he had to watch.
He had to ingrain this vision into his memory, lock it behind an Occlumeny wall no one could break. He wanted to keep this memory for ever and ever. Just for himself. After all those bloody years, he had Hermione Granger deepthroating his cock in the most filthy manner.
Tears sprang from her eyes as she took him in deep, fucked him with her mouth. Her hand massaged his bollocks and she winked, then tugged at them, making his whole body shudder. He found her hair, the soft curls bobbing up and down, entwinning with his fingers.
‘Granger. Fuck.’ He muttered, tugging at her hair just slightly.
She moaned against him and hollowed out her cheeks and sucked hard , making him come so bloody fucking savagely he swore he saw fucking stars. She sucked him dry, catching every last drop of his cum so bloody eager, swallowing him through the aftershocks, he almost lost it.
‘Hermione,
fuck
.’ He breathed as she leisurely stroked his softening cock and lipped her lips clean, watching him with darkened eyes.
Hermione
She quite liked having Draco Malfoy call her by her given name, she realized when she licked the remnant of his cum from her lips.
Hermione had watched him as he had come undone. By her. Her mouth. Fuck, he was beautiful. His abs had rippled, his biceps flexed, his cock had gotten even harder.
With a flick of her wrist, her radio turned on, filling the room with hushed tones of sweet RnB. Another flick of her wrist and the chair Draco was sitting on widened a bit, making room for her to straddle him.
She had said she was going to ride him and nothing was going to stop her. She wanted to see his body work underneath her, his ink dark against both their skins as his muscles worked. His hands on her waist, she sat down, him naked and she still dressed. Carefully, she lowered herself, her ensemble riding up as she got comfortable, exposing her.
‘Fucking hell, you’ve been without knickers this entire time?’
‘This dress is too tight for underwear.’
Draco his eyebrow raised and his hands snaked up her sides, his thumbs resting underneath her breasts before he stroked them up and down, her nipples poking through the fabric.
‘Is that right?’ He breathed, his thumbs now hooked behind her dress and slowly, tortuously so, he pulled it down, her tits springing free from their confinement. With a whine, she pushed her hips down and started moving on the beat of the music. He took one of her nipples in his mouth whilst his thumb took care of the other. She could feel herself leaking on him as she rode against him.
‘And so, so fucking , wet.’
His free hand made its way to her cunt and tentatively stroked her folds.
Hermione's moan turned into a scream as he plunged two fingers in her, stretching her deliciously. She was so wet, she could hear the squelching over the music as she kept on gyrating her hips, fucking his fingers.
His teeth caught her nipple and he bit down gently, making her buck hard against him.
‘So fucking wet just from sucking my cock?’ Draco drawled.
‘I was wet the moment I saw you.’ She answered with a smirk.
‘Ah, yes, I believe your first words were fuck me?’ He smirked right back.
‘And to think I failed Divination.’
‘No need to O.W.L. that when you’re devine yourself, love.’
Before she could make a smart remark on how fucking smooth that came out, he added another finger, curled them, making her head fall back, her breasts now readily available for his mouth.
He took the other nipple in his mouth and sucked it till it peaked painfully, his hand moved to the back of her neck, holding her steady. He sucked, licked, laved it with attention, alternating between nipples and Hermione could feel the wave of her orgasm coming closer and closer.
‘I need you in me, Draco. Please.’
‘Not yet, love.’
Hermione whined and forgot about the rhythm of the music, riding his fingers wantonly. His hand now curved around her neck, making her look into his eyes, his thumb stroking the edge of her cheek.
‘Be a good girl and come for me.’
Bloody hell, that did the trick. Her hands gripped his broad shoulders as the wave crested and she exploded around him. A gush of blazing hot liquid spilled from her, covering his entire hand with her cum.
Draco looked down in awe, his hand shimmering from the moisture in the low light of the livingroom. He still worked his fingers inside her, but slowly now, guiding the wave of her climax until all the aftershocks had subsides.
‘I’m sorry.’ Hermione looked down too.
‘Sorry?’ Draco watched her, confusement written on his face.
‘For, err - that.’
‘That, Hermione, is bloody fucking hot.’
The loss of his fingers felt as a tremendous one, but when she followed them and saw them disappearing into Draco’s mouth, a new surge of hunger came alive within her. The ink on his hand was a darker shade now and he closed his eyes with a hum as his cheeks hollowed out, sucking his fingers clean.
‘And utterly delicious.’ He continued when his fingers popped out of his mouth with a loud pop.
Hermione grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his face close, devouring his lips with hers. He tasted of whiskey and herself and eagerly met her tongue with his own. She pressed herself against him, feeling him rock hard against her core.
She lifted her bum a bit and guided him inside, stretching her even more than his three fingers did. Both of them held their breaths as she sheathed herself on him and the moment she was filled to the hilt, her body trembled.
The moment she started to move, they both moaned out loud. They fit perfectly. Having him deep inside her, reaching every sensitive spot, grinding her clit on his pubic bone, seeing his fit as fuck inked up body reacting to hers, his biceps flexing as he held on tho her hips - it felt as if she was high on Amortentia.
Draco let go of her hip and got a hold of her hair, tugged her head back and bit her neck. Hermione screamed from pleasure.
With a swift movement, he stood, his cock still buried deep in her cunt as he lifted her easily with one hand. Hermione threw her legs around him, his strength adding another layer of heat to her already burning desire. He grabbed her tightly by the arse, leaning back, and they looked down in tandem as he raised her a bit and they could see his cock vanishing into her. He yanked her down before raising her again. His abs were pulsating, his arms thick and veins visible.
‘I need you harder, Draco.’ Hermione breathed, consumed by the sight of him fucking her.
She wandlessly opened the door and he took the hint, making his way to the bedroom. His cock slid out of her when he laid her on the bed and she whined out loud, making him chuckle.
Hermione looked him over as he stood by the end of the bed, his hands raking through his mussed up hair, the muscles of his arms shifting. His cock standing proudly against his muscled sixpack, the tip red and weeping. Hermione almost couldn’t believe she was actually fucking Draco Malfoy and Draco Malfoy was looking like that . Without any thought, she opened her legs for him and he swore out loud as his eyes were fixated on her drenched cunt, clenching onto nothing.
‘On your side, love.’
‘My side?’
Draco got on his knees on the bed - a sight she would love to see more often as his also fully inked tree trunks of thighs now were on full display and she didn’t know why she hadn’t been appreciative of them earlier - and rotated her hips, pulled up the knee that was on top, her lower leg positioned at his waist and lined her entrance up with his cock.
She could still watch him perfectly, as she laid twisted, her upper body almost flat on the mattress. When he entered her, she sighed from contentment. He thrusted in deep, so deliciously deep , and when she bucked back, she could feel his thigh now against her clit. One hand securely on her arse, fingers digging in deep in the supple flesh and the other flicking one of her nipples, she sobbed his name. She was riding his thigh as he pounded into her relentlessly. A glaze of sweat coated him, accentuating his muscles. His ink seemed alive as he moved, snapping his hips against her core.
‘Hermione, I -’
He stilled and leaned down to kiss her deeply, his thumb pressing up her chin as the rest of his fingers rested on her pulsepoint. She begged into the kiss, begged him to fuck her, her hips gyrating against his thigh, seeking friction.
‘Draco, please.’ Hermione sounded desperate. She was desperate.
With a chuckle, he pushed, burying himself even deeper. Hermione tilted her pelvis a bit and now not just his cock but his thigh hit her at the perfect fucking angle. His hand never leaving her neck he lost all control and went wild. Hermione met him at every thrust, screaming out his name in pure ecstasy as she came again, now wetting his entire thigh. He coated her thighs with his own cum and Hermione could feel it dripping out of her as he continued to fuck her through his orgasm.
Draco fell on top of her, completely spent and out of breath. Rather loving the feel of him on top of her, still in her, the feel of being freshly and thoroughly fucked, Hermione didn’t move, but just basked in the moment. Her fingers once more tracing the lines of his tattoos, but now the ones on his arms.
Once he got his breath again, he sat up and Hermione just couldn’t help but stare. Draco looked bloody fucking magnificent. He was still inside of her and if she wasn’t mistaken, he was getting hard again.
‘So, this rebound thing?’ Draco asked, his hands trailing paths over her body, his hips fluidly moving in a circular motion. Yes, definitely getting hard again.
‘Hmm?’
‘Sleeping with someone right after you’ve broken up, it’s just the once?’
‘No. Not once. Definitely multiple times. Multiple, multiple times even. Prolonged periods of times, too.’
‘Is that right? A smirk appeared on his face.
‘Shut up and fuck me, Malfoy.’