Here's the Deal

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/18092762.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: F/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy
Additional Tags: dubcon elements, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Dark Hermione Granger,
Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fake Marriage, Light Bondage, Hate Sex,
Love/Hate, Crack, crack fic adjacent, Fluff and Crack, Alternate
Universe - Crack, Crack and Angst, Dark Crack, Crack Relationships,
Angst, Humor, Angst and Humor, Idiots in Love
Language: English
Collections: Dramione__Stuff, Dramione to Read
Stats: Published: 2019-03-13 Completed: 2020-09-25 Words: 56,677 Chapters:
18/18

HERE’S
THE DEAL
 Here's the Deal
by Lilian_Silver

Summary

8th Year Dramione - they get engaged in The Great Hall™ ...but is everything what it seems?

No, of course it's not, dipshit.

Notes

Disclaimer: I was high while writing 85% of this, and it shows. It is the silliest thing I have
ever written, and it was fun as hell to write. If you dislike the writing style, please abandon
fic immediately, lest you be drowned by the pure absurdity.

Dub-con elements aka rough hate-sex, but nothing truly malicious. If that ain't yo thang, go
read one of my T-rated one-shots.
 The First Chapter!
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

“Granger! Wait…"

Draco’s voice rang across the Great Hall, and every student in the place spun to look at him.
He’d risen from the Slytherin table just at the end of dinner, and moved towards the door to
head Hermione off before she could leave.

They were well into their 8th year at Hogwarts, and this sort of intrigue was out of the norm.

She turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised with skepticism.

“Yes, Malfoy?”

He scoffed and looked away from her, clearly annoyed. “Come now, Hermione. I think we’re
both ready to drop the act.”

She looked visibly unsettled at this and glanced around at the onlooking students nervously.

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“I love you,” he said in a ringing voice that cascaded around the room, bounding off the stone
walls for all to hear.

Hermione’s chest began heaving as she stared back at him, their eyes locked as if they were
alone in the room.

“I can’t do this anymore, I can’t pretend. The truth-” he said, and then stopped to clear his
throat, waiting a moment to gather his resolve before continuing. “The truth is that I want to
be with you. Only you. Forever.”

Hermione’s cheeks turned bright red and her chest continued to heave. Draco moved forward
and took both of her hands in his, and a few students near them gasped when she did not
protest.

“Marry me, Hermione.”

The gasps that then rang throughout the hall were in perfect unison. A few students shouted
things like “No!” and “What the bloody hell?!” and “Merlin’s pants!”

When the noise died down, all eyes were on Hermione. The silence was deafening as they
awaited her response.

“Yes,” she said, her voice weak with tears, which then tumbled from her eyes as she leaned in
and kissed Draco. They were both grinning from ear to ear, and after a moment of stunned
silence, the hall was filled with cheers and applause. It was hesitant at first, but then grew and
grew until everyone in the room seemed to be on the same page that this was a good thing.

When they broke the kiss, Hermione placed her forehead on Draco’s and continued smiling.

Through gritted teeth, she said, “Tongue, Malfoy, really?”

He responded in kind. “Just keep smiling, mudblood.”

She looked up into his eyes. “You are vile,” she said, and then kissed him again, this time
taking care to bite on his bottom lip and drawing a bit of blood.
“Fucking bitch,” he grumbled when she released her hold on him.

A small crowd had gathered around them at this point, and a Creevey cousin took their photo.
Just as they had planned.

“Let’s get out of here before one of us loses our temper.”

“Do lead the way,” he said, offering her his hand. She grabbed it and pulled him out of the
hall, as they both waved to their onlookers as though they were celebrities… which they sort
of were.

They found the first empty classroom and charged in, Hermione quickly warding the door to
prevent anyone from coming in or even near.

“What in the bloody hell was that, Malfoy?! I told you, no tongue in public or I would bite it
off!”

“Well you didn’t make good on that threat today, so how am I supposed to take you seriously
from here, Granger?”

She scoffed loudly. “How was I supposed to bite your tongue off when you’d just publicly
proposed to me?!”

He shrugged. “Not my problem.”

“Ugh, you are infuriating and I can’t believe I ever agreed to this deal!”

He bowed. “My Father sends his regards by the way. The money will be in your Gringotts
account within the hour. Now you can get on with your insane House Elf Liberation
nonsense.”

“And you can get on with pretending you’re an upstanding member of society who deserves
anything other than people’s suspicion and disdain!”

“That’s my plan, Granger.”

“Well good!”

“Good!”
They stared at each other, hatred sizzling in the air between them.

Then suddenly they were on top of one another. Kissing, biting, ripping, scratching.

“I only have ten minutes before the Prefect meeting,” she said hurriedly through panting
breaths as she unbuttoned his shirt, continuing to kiss him aggressively.

“I think they’ll understand, since you just got engaged, now shut the fuck up and bend over.”

She pulled her mouth from his and let out a hearty laugh. “Oh no, I’m riding your cock, it’s
my turn to be in charge.”

He rolled his eyes as he undid his trousers and pulled out his dick, which was already
completely hard. “Fine then, but you have to suck me off first.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You should’ve known I would do that anyway, but not because of
your demand. I enjoy it, it helps get me off.”

“Just get my dick in your mouth already, Granger. Maybe you can even make it to your
precious meeting in time,” he said, pushing on her head to force her lower to the ground.

“You just better hope I don’t make good on my earlier promise,” she said, making a biting
motion, her teeth clicking together.

His eyes went wide. “On second thoughts,” he said, scooping her up and falling back into the
chair behind him. He reached up her skirt to confirm that she hadn’t been wearing knickers,
and quickly slid himself into her. They both moaned in approval when he was buried in her
extremely wet cunt.

“Ride away, Granger.”

She grunted in annoyance, but began bucking forward and back, seeking her release. She
pressed her face into his neck, panting hard. Then she growled into his ear.

“I’m going to find you later and suck your cock. With just a little too much teeth.”

He ripped open her shirt and began sucking and biting everywhere he could reach.

“I don’t know, Granger, you don’t seem to be making good on your promises lately.”

“Malfoy, kindly shut the fuck up and stick a finger up my arse, like I said I only have ten
minutes.”
.
.
.
.
.
.
Hermione disillusioned herself after Prefect rounds and slipped into the Slytherin common
room. It wasn’t her first time there, and she had memorized the steps she’d need to take to get
to his dorm. He was one of only four Slytherin boys their age who had returned for a final
year, and so they were given more spacious quarters and larger beds.

She crept up the stairs, casting a cushioning charm on her feet so as not to wake the Slytherin
prefects who had surely just returned back from rounds. A silent alohamora gained her access
to the room, and she pushed the door open slowly, listening for the sounds of four different
snores. Once she had confirmed they were all asleep, she slipped in and headed to his bed.
Peeling back the curtains, she climbed carefully onto the foot of the bed, and then cast
silencing charms as well as sticking charms to keep the curtains from moving.

He had fallen asleep on his back, which was great luck for her. She conjured ropes and then
cast another charm to have them magically bind him to the bed by both wrists and both
ankles. He didn’t stir until the last knot was secure, and she grinned in triumph.

“Granger! What the fuck?!”

“Shhh, husband. You don’t want to wake the other boys, do you?” she said in a sweet simper.

“This is not funny, you fucking bitch. Release me at once.”

“Release me at once,” she mocked. “Really Malfoy, what century are you from?” As she said
this she crawled on top of him and placed a hand on his cock. She felt immediate
confirmation of his arousal, as usual. He could talk a good game, and he could protest, but
the truth was that he fucking loved it when she pulled these stunts.

He groaned as she grasped him greedily and then pulled out her wand and vanished his pants.

“Fuck you,” was all he managed to say.

Even though it was dark and he could hardly see her, she grinned. “In due course, darling.”
She emphasized the last word, now very aware that they were going to need to get used to
these terms of endearment while together in public.

Without further conversation, she bent down and wrapped her wet lips around his cock. She
teased him at the head at first and tasted the first drop of pre-cum, letting out a moan of
approval. She had never enjoyed the taste of a man before, but she enjoyed him. It was
simply a fact that she could not quite reconcile, and so did not think too hard on. Pun
intended.

After getting that first taste and feeling him squirm with impatience, she found that she
couldn’t wait much longer and shoved him deep down into the back of her throat. She had
already performed the charm to turn off her gag reflex while on her way there, fully intent on
what she was going to do.

He writhed around, pulling on his binds. She knew he wanted to grab her hair and control her
movements. If she was honest, she loved it when he did that. Tonight, however, was a
punishment, and that had to include some discipline on her part. They just happened to enjoy
a lot of the same things, so taking something away from him meant that it was taken from her
as well.
Her tongue pressed along his shaft as she took him deeply in and out. Then she remembered
the entire point of this endeavor, and she scraped her teeth along his length as she went.

She would have silenced him from the beginning, which had been a favorite of hers, but she
wanted to hear his reactions this time. After a few passes with light pressure, she pressed
down a bit harder. He shuddered immediately, but she could not tell if it was from pain,
pleasure, or both. She added her bottom teeth on the next pass and felt him thrash beneath
her. She moaned with the pleasure of knowing how uncomfortable she was making him,
while at the same time knowing that he was absolutely enjoying her game.

He always did.

They both loved being in control as well as being controlled. It was an odd combination,
most people tended to gravitate to one or the other, but both Hermione and Draco took
pleasure in either.

Not wishing to actually injure him, she eased up a bit on the teeth and felt the muscles in his
thighs lose their tension. She removed him from the back of her throat and began licking him
like an ice cream, trailing her tongue lower and lower and licking his balls. He cried out, as
he always did, and she went lower, swirling her tongue in all the places a tongue did really
belong but was surely welcome.

She moved back up and placed sloppy kisses all over his shaft before sliding him back into
her mouth and shoving him as deep as he could go. She was incredibly wet now, which she
discovered as she slid her own hand between her hot wet folds. Her desire to mount him
again was strong, but she’d wait for now. She wanted him to come in her throat. Had been
thinking about it ever since they’d parted ways earlier. After that, he could get it up again so
she could have a final ride before heading back to her dorm.

She took him much faster now, imagining that his hand was on the back of her head and
forcing her down. She took care to continue the pressure from her teeth, knowing that if she
did hurt him at all, she could always heal him before the next round. He hadn’t stopped
thrashing in protest, but he was giving her many more moans of approval. Her memory of his
hand guiding her head was so strong that she rather though he must be having a similar if not
greater experience of this with her in charge. She remembered how he would sometimes hold
her down as he bucked his hips up into her, and so she made a very distinct move to bring her
lips down to the base of his cock and stop moving.

He took her cue immediately and began fucking her mouth with what little mobility he had.
She had been teasing her own clit gently all this time, but pressed harder now that she could
put more focus on herself. Merlin, but this was incredibly arousing. She let him drive into her
mouth, pressing most of her body weight down onto him via her lips, as she stroked and
rubbed her clit, grinding into her own hand. Finally, without warming, she felt the hot stream
of his seed hit the back of her throat. Thank the sex charm Gods, she did not gag for a
moment, but willingly accepted it into her throat like a desert walker desperate for water.

The sensation of the hot liquid spewing into her sent her over the edge. She came hard on her
own hand right along with him. Her orgasm was so strong that her ears began ringing. She
thought she could hear him murmuring something, but really wasn’t sure. She also didn’t
care.

Wiping her hand on the bedding, she braced herself with both hands and pulled him slowly
out of her mouth, again taking care to graze her teeth along his shaft. He shuddered violently
at the movement and after a few swallows to rid her mouth of his seed, she giggled.

“Serves you right, Malfoy. Next time just listen to me.”

He was panting rather heavily in the aftermath of his orgasm, but she was able to make out,
“healing charm… please.”

Oh dear, he never said please. She reached quickly for her wand and aimed it at his still
slightly erect manhood, casting the necessary charm. He let out a satisfied moan.

She may have healed him, but she wouldn’t apologize. It was still, after all, a punishment.

Likewise, he did not say thank you. They rarely exchanged a pleasantry in any of their
interactions, it just was not their style.

She bent down and began to kiss and lick his cock once more.

“I’m fine,” he said with disdain. She looked up at him with a smirk. Her eyes had adjusted to
the darkness and she knew that he could see her face clearly by the green lake light that
bounced off the ceiling over his four poster.

“I’m not concerned with your comfort, just that I get one last ride before going off to bed,”
she said, and bent down again to continue her efforts to get him fully hard again.

“You know all you have to do is say that thing you always refuse to say. Could save you a lot
of time.”

She looked up at him, exasperated. This was his constant refrain, though he was usually not
bound when he said it. Finding that she was more amenable to it given his current state, she
crawled up and kissed his chest, then his collarbone, neck, jaw, and the bit his earlobe.
Bringing her lips to the perfect position, she whispered, “fuck me like one of your pureblood
whores, please Malfoy.”

That seemed to do the trick, as she felt his cock twitch against her stomach instantly.

“Told you,” he said in a pompous manner. Merlin, how he could manage to speak so clearly
when so aroused, she’d never know. She was certainly ready herself. In fact, she hoped for at
least two more orgasms before she left his bed. Straddling him, she lowered herself onto his
cock for the second time that day, and relished the sensation of having full control to fuck
him as hard, soft, fast, or slow as she desired.
.
.
.
.
 .
.
The next morning found them both sleeping in their own beds, and going about their days
without much thought of where the other was or what they were doing.

Their days were always like this. While the pair had found a mutual satisfaction in the act of
fucking one another, when it came to feelings, neither was willing to let their guard down
enough to care.

It was kind of funny, really. If one of them would simply show a weakness first, the other
would actually be supportive of it… but they would never know that. Because they were
assholes.

Chapter End Notes

Read on to discover how this ridiculous arrangement came to be...

 Come in Peace
Chapter Summary

The titles says it all

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Assholes? Arseholes? Who even knew?

The narrator was American and didn’t have a Brit-picker to consult with.

But let’s get back to our favorite… jerks.

*Many Months Earlier*

The school year had begun in a fairly bland manner. Hermione had settled into her Head Girl
duties, as well as her familiar propensity to basically live in the library.

Ho hum. Hum drum. Typical.

Everyone seemed to be operating under the same conspiracy of normalcy. It was as if a

psychopathic noseless tyrant hadn’t recently wiped out a third of their population. Hermione
didn’t mind, though. She herself was obviously quite careworn and therefore content to play
make believe with the rest. Harry and Ron had thrown themselves into Auror work, and she
had thrown herself into schoolwork.

Harry coped with feelings by saving people.

Ron coped with feelings by glomming on to Harry’s need to save people.
Hermione coped with feelings by running to her books.

Only… she would normally be researching something to do with whoever needed saving by
Harry.

The absence of her other two limbs left her feeling particularly… pointless. As a person.
Like… what was even the point of her now?

Thinking it would be best to give herself something other than schoolwork and Head duties
to occupy her mind, she’d resurrected S.P.E.W. (That's the Society for the Promotion of
Elfish Welfare, for any of you weirdos who haven't read Goblet of Fire - Hermione is
basically a SJW for house elves). Many more in the school were now willing to buy a badge
and support her cause.
The benefit of being a celebrity was that it didn’t matter what sort of asinine bullshit you
were fighting for; your true fans would always go along. So much so that you could be
completely delusional, misinformed, and generally ridiculous, and no one would ever call
you on it.

And so… no one did! It was blissful oblivion for Hermione Granger.

Sort of.

Hermione still needed capital to get her movement fully off the ground, and seven sickles per
member for dues was not going to cut it. No, she needed real money.

That was where Draco Malfoy came in.

She’d been concocting ways to begin some sort of acquaintance with him. She had learned
long ago that the best ways to manipulate boys were fear and sex.

She’d used the latter very sparingly, relying instead on her brilliant mind and spell-casting
ability in order to assert dominance. Generally, she’d been terrible at the latter. Coquettish
coaxing was not her forte, and were she to ever offer up her body as an act of logical
exchange for some favor, most boys would find that just as intimidating as her magical
threats.

Except, perhaps, for Draco Malfoy.

This was where sex and logic had collided in a beautiful improvised interpretive dance.

Draco Malfoy had returned to Hogwarts. Merlin knew why! To say that the other students
gave him a wide berth was the understatement of 1998. She’d noticed that he hadn’t seemed
bothered by it. If anything, it’d seemed to suit him well.

She found herself jealous, as she was regularly assaulted by cameras and requests for
autographs in the halls and at meal times, not to mention the fan mail. Oh, the bloody fan
mail!

She was finding a cynical shift in her personality simply due to the amount of bullshit she
had to endure on a daily basis as a “war heroine” – before you knew it, there would be dolls
of her promoting things like “WITCH POWER!”

No, seriously, they’d be front of display soon at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes: Hogsmeade.

Yep, she was famous and it was unbearable.

Malfoy had had no such experience. So, apart from the fact the he seemed to enjoy the
solitude that his reputation garnered him, she had to imagine that he was… lonely wasn’t the
right word. Starved for companionship? Yes, that was more like it.

After all, he was a warm blooded (debatable) eighteen-year-old who had had the majority of
his early teen years usurped by the aforementioned psycho-snake, and couldn’t have had
much time for sexual exploits.
i.e. that boy HAD to be horny.

It was just logic. Hermione’s specialty.

The prospect of a Malfoy funding her house elf cause was as far-fetched as breaking into
Gringotts and escaping on a dragon, so she liked her odds.

Determined to achieve her ends some way, somehow, Hermione set about enacting her plan.

This would require a fair bit of foundation-laying, and she herself was starved for a task to
help shove away the latent grief from her buffet of trauma over the last few years, so she
wanted to move quickly.

Harry had gifted her the Marauder’s Map for her return to the school, so finding out where
Malfoy typically hung about was no issue. The bigger one would be getting him to even
speak to her. If she was honest, she had no idea where he stood in regards to her. They had
never been friends (obviously) and yet he hadn’t given her, Harry, and Ron up when he could
have at Malfoy Manor. It had probably been for some selfish fucking reason, but still.

He’d also hung about in The Great Hall after the battle rather than immediately retreating.

Somehow, she’d had a sense that he desired acceptance. Reformation, even. She would play
that card if need be. First, she’d go with the direct indecent proposal.

One evening in late September, she had solo-rounds, as her co-Head was in the hospital wing
for a Quidditch accident. She opened the map and located Malfoy where he’d usually lurked,
likely disillusioned, near Snape’s old office. Slughorn hadn’t taken it over and it’d remained a
sort of shrine to the unlikely hero. Hermione had only briefly wondered why Malfoy chose
this spot to linger, but did not give it much more thought.

Casting her own disillusionment charm and silencing her heeled boots, she made her way
down.

A surprisingly sad scene met her eyes; Draco Malfoy was sitting on the stone floor, head
hung between his legs, elbows on knees, holding a flask.

It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d been drinking away his sorrows.

It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d had sorrows.

Furthermore, she was not interested in hearing his sorrows, and was sure he wouldn’t share
them with her if she was.

Looking down at him, and with another small shock, she registered the fact that he was not,
in fact, disillusioned. Bold move.

Bold… or stupid. Maybe he enjoyed the idea of being caught? Or the risk?

Well, no point in trying to figure the bastard out, really. She was done with hypotheticals and
ready to see what would happen if she just gave this a shot.
Standing directly before him, she removed her charms.

“Don’t scream. I come in peace,” she said as she quickly cast and then removed a silencing
charm on him. It had done the trick. Whatever yell he had let out at her appearance had been
successfully muted.

“What the fuck, Granger?” he yelled, getting to his feet with surprising grace.

“Keep your voice down or I’ll do it again for you,” she hissed.

His anger filled the air like a balmy late summer day’s humidity. “Like hell you-”

But he wasn’t going to be finishing any sentences at that volume on this night.

Even if he’d notice her hand movements, he couldn’t have prevented her wordless, wandless
magic. Instantly, his voice was again muted and he was pinned against the stone wall.
Calmly, she strode towards him and removed the flask from his pinned hand. His lips moved,
but she was blissfully oblivious to the aspersions he’d surely cast her way. Looking him dead
in the eyes, she took a sip from the flask.

Firewhisky. It had recently become a favorite of hers and she savored the burn.

It was some good shit. Rich little fuck.

“This is amazing,” she said, staring at the small silver container that was surely a Malfoy
heirloom. Then she looked back up with him, a serene smile on her face.

“I didn’t come here to duel, Malfoy. Will you please promise to keep your voice down so I
can release these undignified spells?”

She took his sneer as an answer and released the spells as she turned away from him, taking
another casual sip.

“How dare you put your filthy mouth on my flask,” he growled.

She spun around and advanced on him again.

“Where should I put it instead?” she growled back, her eyes boring into his.

He was fucking hot. She had always known it, had always suppressed the awareness, and was
not trying to push it away anymore. That was part of why this all made logical sense to her, a
latent attraction on her part would be excellent fuel to get past the fact that she found the idea
of seducing him generally appalling even if only on principal.

Physically, she had no qualms. She’d been particularly… starved for companionship herself.

Blood purity bullshit aside, she’d always had an inkling that he’d had a thing for her as well.
What better way to test a theory about having the key to tame a dragon than to walk right into
said dragon’s lair and demand obedience.
“Where should I put it instead?” – her words rang in the stone corridor.

He blinked, but made no reply. They stood there in silence, glaring at one another.

She bit her lower lip very subtly and felt a thrill shoot through her as his eyes darted down to
observe the movement.

Victory. She could almost hear her own voice whispering it all around the corridor.

“What are you playing at, Granger?” His voice was low, quiet with danger and promise. She
shuddered.

“Nothing yet,” she said.

His brow furrowed for a moment. They were still standing so close; she could feel the heat
radiating from his body.

Fine, warm blooded after all.

She chanced her own glance down at his lips and then back up to his storm cloud eyes.

“Why did you come down here?”

The fact that he was confused and asking questions rather than merely walking away made
her feel… powerful. It was something she hadn’t felt in quite a while. She found that it acted
like a balm to her boredom, as well as a delightful distraction from her worldly woes.

But she should calm down with the alliteration. Too much of a good thing and all that.

“Why did you come down here?” – she let his question hang in the air for a while before
answering.

“Why do you suppose?”

At this, he let out a low laugh. “As if anyone could figure out how your mind works, Granger.
First they’d have to battle through that bushy nest on your head to even access it.”

“You love it,” she said with narrowed eyes and a lilt of her chin.

“What?”

“Malfoy, this is boys 101. You tease because you want what you can’t have.”

He scoffed as loudly as one could scoff.

“As if I would ever reduce myself to wanting a mud-”

“Shhh… you don’t want to use that word just now,” she said, stopping him with a finger over
his lips. He froze. “Best save it for the times when you really want to shock me. Don’t let it
lose its efficacy.”
He seemed completely thrown by this, she could see it in his eyes. She removed her finger,
and for the briefest moment, his face betrayed a sense of disappointment.

“Now,” she continued in a business-like manner, even though she was still so close to him
they were almost pressed together. “I have a proposition for you, so listen closely because the
offer will expire in a fortnight.”

A small grimace crossed his face, but she took his silence as acquiescence and kept going.

“We’re both virtually alone here this year. Hardly any of our year have returned, and the ones
who have don’t understand what either of us has been through. No one does really.”

Her voice trailed off and she waited a beat while they both processed what she had just
spoken. It was true. There was an incredibly odd sort of camaraderie available between them,
given their proximity to the end of Voldemort, even if they had fought on opposite sides.

“I don’t want to make new friends. I certainly am not interested in a boyfriend. Everyone that
speaks to me now… I can’t trust that they care about anything but being closer to a war
heroine.”

She rolled her eyes on that last bit and heard him stifle a chuckle.

“Get to the point, Granger.”

“I think we should fuck.”

If there was something he was expecting her to say, that clearly wasn’t it.

“You honestly believe that I would lower myself to-”

“I do,” she said, closing the space between them by stepping in and pressing her hips against
him. He did not even hint at removing himself and she smiled inwardly, even though she’d
known since his lip-glance that she’d had him.

Then she let her eyes rove all around his face, her breath ghosting over his lips. He was
incredibly controlled, and yet she could sense the subtlest quiver in his body as she moved.
Restraint.

She brought her lips to his ear and said, “just think about it, Malfoy.” Then, he inhaled
sharply as she let her lips take his earlobe, her tongue giving it a gentle caress. When she
pulled away, she was gratified to see that he had his eyes closed. Taking the opportunity, she
re-cast her charms and silently disappeared into the night.

“Granger?” was the last thing she heard before she was out of earshot.

Phase one of fundraising efforts: COMPLETE.

oOoOoOo
Draco Malfoy sat at the Slytherin table the next morning in the middle of an existential life
crisis. Of course, it was also entirely possible that he was overdramatizing the situation in the
extreme.

It wasn’t like the mudblood had been admitting anything other than physical feelings, and he
certainly had had his fair share of nasty fantasies involving the stupid bint. They were merely
sexual fantasies. It was all about power and dominance. Nothing more.

That was what he’d told himself, anyway. Feel free to think you know better, alright?

The life crisis was really a symptom of some other sensations and yearnings he’d noticed
during and after their interaction the evening prior. Something around his own public
vindication that might become possible due to an alliance with the golden bitch herself.

Let’s face it, though, he was not self-aware enough to recognize those feelings.

What he could feel, however, were his new and confusing lustful feelings for her.

He had to admit it, it had been fucking hot.

The way she’d bitten her lip.

The way she’d let her breath ghost over his lips. She’d smelled of spearmint.

That... ear... thing. He’d been completely undone by the witch in a matter of moments and he
was, frankly, impressed.

It had been her confidence. Where had it come from?

He felt a moment of pride, thinking that the years of bullying had actually caused a positive
change in the girl. Caused her to rise to the occasion and take back her power.

It was pretty fucking pretentious for him to even attempt to lay claim to credit for her
personal transformation, but he was a pretentious little shit, so that’s just what he did.

He had a fortnight to decide, but didn’t need it.

The chance to fuck Hermione Granger with no strings attached was far too great to pass up.

“Existential crisis over,” he thought to himself.

.
.
.
.
.
Later that day, he enacted his own plan. Disillusioning himself and silencing his shoes as he
assumed she had done the night prior, he followed her on her rounds. Why was she alone?
Weren’t they meant to do this in pairs? It was how it had been in his time as Prefect.
McGonnagal, of course, had not been about to offer him such a post… post-war. Times had
changed.

When Granger reached the end of her rounds (which were decidedly uneventful) she retired
back to her quarters. He followed closely behind her after she’d opened the door and was
grateful that she’d stood briefly in the doorway removing her shoes before closing it behind
her. Forgetting he had a silencing charm on, he stealthily followed her into her bedroom. He
had to stifle a gasp as she began undressing immediately, tossing her robes over her desk
chair and beginning to unbutton her blouse. He licked his lips as he watched her. Once her
shirt was off, she began to work the buttons of her school skirt and he moved in, undoing his
charms as he went.

He cast the same series of spells on her, even though it didn’t matter if she screamed. He
intended to make her scream that night.

She spun around and her arms were pinned to the wall as unknown words tumbled from her
muted mouth. Flashing his signature smirk, he sauntered over to her, a gleam in his eye that
hadn’t been there for years.

“Don’t worry, Granger. I come in peace.”

He watched her for a moment as she registered her own words on his lips and observed
adorable freckles on her nose as she sneered at him.

That was a pretty good sneer, actually. He was impressed.

“You can actually scream all you want; in fact, I imagine I’ll be encouraging it.”

Her mouth stilled and her expression calmed. He released the spells and she rubbed her wrists
as if she’d been in shackles. She did not scream… yet. She went for a low, angry rasp instead.

“How dare you follow me into my private quarters, you pretentious little-” He put a finger
over her mouth and was surprised when she actually stopped speaking. A moment of
triumph.

The look she gave him, though, took his breath away. It was one of lustful astonishment,
filled with an innocence he was not prepared for in that moment.

Finding that he wasn’t up for re-enacting their entire “thing” from the night before, he instead
shifted his hand to brush his thumb across her lip. She took in a breath and closed her eyes,
and he ran his fingers along her jaw, finally entangling them into her mess of curls.

Abruptly, he tugged her forward by the hair, his lips millimeters from hers.

“You were right about the hair thing,” he murmured. “It’s a fucking mess and I love it.”

Then, finally, their lips met. They both let out something between a moan and a whimper at
the contact. It was hard to say if one was more emphatic than the other, they both seemed to
want and need this in equal measure, and their tongues swirled around one another amidst lip
nipping and lapping licks. Tasting. Discovering. Exploring one another.
It was like she was Christmas morning and he had so many presents to unwrap.

Speaking of which, he realized that his presents were mostly unwrapped before him. So
intent had he been on her lips and hair, he’d quite forgotten that the witch was almost naked.
Apparently, she hadn’t, because in that moment, she was fixedly divesting him of his own
clothing.

Suddenly she stopped and pushed him back. He growled at the loss of contact.

“Wait, we haven’t set any ground rules.”

“Is that really necessary?” he whined, leaning in to kiss her neck. She whimpered at his touch
and grasped his shoulders. He brought both hands up to grasp her lace-covered tits and
rubbed his thumbs over her pert nipples.

“Malfoy,” she moaned, and he felt his cock twitch.

“Yes, Granger? Please keep telling me about these rules,” he said, moving down to shove her
bra out of the way and taking one of her perky tits into his mouth. She let out a squeal this
time. He wondered how long it had been for her. Feeling it would be best to capitalize on her
overwhelmed state, he ran a hand down to her knickers and rubbed his fingers slowly, starting
at her clit and moving lower, then back up. He could feel her slick wetness under the lace, but
did not move the material aside yet. It was obvious, however, that she’d be soaked through
pretty soon and it almost wouldn’t matter.

He moved up to her ear and repeated the motion she’d done to him the night before with her
tongue, then said, “For example, shall we make a rule about how many times I make you
come before we fuck? I’m thinking two should be the baseline.”

With that, he dropped down to lave at her clit over her knickers and she let out the most
glorious noise of desperation and relief.

It wasn’t a selfless thing; it was a pride thing. He was not about to allow Hermione Granger
the ability to say he wasn’t able to satisfy her. Not that they were going to be a public couple,
of course, it was just the principle of the thing. He would bring her with his mouth, then his
cock, then he would see about his own release.

Her legs were trembling uncontrollably as he raced his tongue over her clit. When he finally
pushed the material aside, he heard her utter a small yet impassioned, “No,” and he looked up
in time to see her making an odd movement with her hand like she had the night before. He
had suspected wandless magic, but hadn’t been sure whether he’d just missed the wand in her
other hand.

He was now pinned against the wall and very sure: this was perhaps the scariest witch he’d
ever met.

“I want to suck you off first,” she said, removing his pants and smiling as his fully erect cock
sprang free. Then she leaned her head to the side and held her hand over her throat.
“Opstruo libera” she said. It was a spell he’d never heard before.

“On second thoughts, ground rules sound like an excellent idea. For example: no pinning me
to the fucking wall and sucking me off against my will.”

She shrugged. “You didn’t seem to care a minute ago. Too late now.”

With that, she took him fully into her mouth. Draco knew that he was larger than average.
The few experiences he’d had with this usually resulted in complaints from the witches on
their knees. This witch, however, was not complaining.

Whatever that spell had been seemed to be intended to aid her in this particular task. He
couldn’t think about it any further, however… well, because he couldn’t think at all. She had
him deep into her throat, and since his wrists and ankles were pinned, he had limited
mobility.

Oh fuck, he wanted so badly to grab her hair and have some semblance of control over her
movements. As it was, he would likely explode down her throat any second. Her full and
perfect lips were wrapped around him, and she was pushing him deep into the back of her
throat with every thrust.

This was supposed to be his time to control and please her. If they did indeed continue, he
knew there would always be this quest for control on both sides.

“Granger,” he moaned, and she began to move faster. He was already getting close when he
heard a wet sound and looked down to see that she’d been vigorously rubbing her own clit.
Just as he glanced down, she moved her knickers and shoved two fingers in. That sent him
over the edge and he came hard right down her throat. She tensed, poised to receive. He
could hear and feel her working to swallow every drop of him as he pulsed and convulsed,
his cock throbbing in her throat. Her moan of pleasure was enough to make him fall over had
he not been stuck there, and he realized that she had come along with him.

His back pushed firmly into the wall as his sticking charms released; he could hardly stand.
When he glanced down, the most breath taking sight stood, er, kneeled before him.

Hermione Granger, on her knees, wiping his come off her lips and licking it off her fingers.

With a jolt, he remembered where those fingers had just been and his cock came back to life
for a moment with a twitch. Her eyes widened at the movement.

“Already coming back for more, are we?”

He shook his head. “Not me. You.”

In the low, gravelly voice that seemed to do her in, he said, “Bed. Now.”

She said nothing but began sauntering over to the bed.

“And no more spells tonight. Or ever. Truce?” he said.

With a coy smirk she said, “Oh no, there is no way I will be agreeing to that.”

“Why not?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Because… the only way that this will work is if I regularly make you feel like a bit of an
idiot. You like a challenge, so I won’t be withdrawing mine.”

Then she splayed herself out on the bed, and just when Draco was about to argue, she shoved
a hand down her lacy knickers and began rubbing her clit, bringing up her other hand to
mercilessly pinch a nipple.

“Mmmmm…. Mmmmmm…. Malfoy-”

He was on top of her, roughly shoving her further up the bed and burying his face once again
between her tanned, perfect thighs. Since when did Granger have curves?

He wasted no time and shoved his tongue into her slit, tasting her with veneration. Any
complaints he’d had in the past about this particular activity faded away, he was a new man.
As he worked her clit and inserted a few fingers he found himself saying, “tell me what you
like, Granger.”

“Mmmmm,” was her response, hips bucking her pussy into his lips.

“Talk to me,” he said, not knowing quite why. It was instinctual. Something in him said she
would enjoy it more if she had some say in what he was doing.

“Mmm… kiss it… kiss my cunt.”

Draco obeyed, placing light kisses all over her clit and surrounding skin.

“With tongue,” she breathed, and he understood. Slowly, expertly, he began laving at her skin
and ending it with a kiss each time, as if he were kissing her mouth. He moved all around,
covering every bit of her that he could reach. As he methodically worked on giving her clit
more and more of the attention, he sensed that she was being built up quite well. She was
trembling under his touch.

“Draco please,” she moaned.

“Please what? I want to hear it.”

“Please make me come now.”

Continuing to place wet sloppy kisses all around her clit without touching it, he said, “How
exactly would you like me to do that?”

She whimpered in protest but took a deep breath and said, “Add a third finger and put your
tongue flat against my clit so I can fuck your face.”

If he was already hard, then he got immeasurably harder at hearing her words, her specificity.
He made no reply other than to smirk and follow her instructions. Licking one of his fingers
for extra ease, he then brought three to her opening and shoved in. It was a tight squeeze, and
he could feel her walls clench around his fingers. He instantly could think of little else
besides sliding his cock into her perfect pussy… but that would wait.

Obediently, he brought his tongue flat against her clit and applied pressure, encouraging her
to move. Releasing a litany of small, tortured moans, she pumped her hips and pressed her
clit into his tongue. She seemed ready to come undone any second, and her slow speed must
be due to wanting to prolong the pleasure.

He moved his fingers in and out of her, and curled them up to search for her spot. Pressing
back and stroking the same spot over and over, he noticed her shudder rhythmically with his
movements, and suddenly her hips were moving faster. With rising fury, she fucked his face
and he stroked her inside walls firmly, feeling her throb and begin to fall apart.

She screamed. It was so loud. He would never forget the exact sound she made.

She convulsed violently under his tongue and touch.

“I’m- I’m coming… Malfoy… I’m coming.”

He continued doing what he was doing until she clearly had had enough and couldn’t do with
more contact. Even still, as he pulled away, he placed a light kiss just above her clit.

She laughed and grinned down at him.

The both panted as they looked at one another.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say we have chemistry, don’t you, Malfoy?”

He scoffed. “Don’t go getting any ideas, Granger. I don’t do relationships. You fuck me or
you fuck off.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t implying romantic chemistry, you arrogant fuck!”

“Granger, like I said, fuck me or fuck off. If you want to get fucked, then turn over so I don’t
have to look at your face.”

With a huff, she actually turned right over and put her ass in the air for him to ravish.

He cast a lubrication charm, just in case, and slid into her slick warmth.

Merlin, she was so perfectly tight. He seemed to fit inside her like they were custom made for
this. He filled her completely, and once she’d gotten used to his size, began pounding into her
as hard as he could.

Unbeknownst to him, Hermione hid a mischievous smirk below the mane of hair that was
obscuring her sweaty, satisfied face.
Chapter End Notes

Talk to me. Tell me what you like.

 Ulterior Motive Mania
Chapter Summary

Draco makes an accusation. Hermione gets even. They both think they have the upper
hand, and frankly, it's adorable.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Hermione walked the halls of the castle with an extra pep in her step the following morning,
and not just because she’d had four rather fantastic orgasms the night before.

She had him. That was that. While she hadn’t figured out the particulars of her entire plan
just yet, phase one had gone exceptionally well, even coming to a close thirteen days earlier
than planned. She had let him feel enough of a sense of control without losing that dominant
demeanor that he seemed so turned on by.

It was expertly done on her part.

She imagined the panel of Tri-wizard judges casting golden number tens in the air after
witnessing her performance, and beamed as though she’d just retrieved a golden egg from a
dragon.

No golden eggs just yet, but the dragon was under her spell.

They had fucked well into the night, and she’d made it a point to kick him out when they
were through. Even though she didn’t think she had anything to worry about in terms of their
intimacy going too far, she did not want to leave room for any chance of becoming attached.
She knew all too well how her mind could invent little false realities and then live into them,
and she refused to get caught up in such nonsense when there were house elves to liberate.

Eyes on the prize, Hermione.

She entered the great hall and strode over to the Gryffindor table. A few first years gave her a
round of applause as she went by, and she responded with a tight-lipped smile.

It was already grating on her and the year had only just begun.

She sat with a few fifth years who were doing homework at the table. Her own days of
worrying about OWLs seemed so far away. A flood of resentment coursed through her at the
thought of her fellow war-hero friends who had all decided to forego year eight and simply
enter the working wizarding world.
It was fine. They’d left her, but it was fine.
She stabbed her eggs with a bit too much gusto when a drawling voice spoke from behind
her.

“Why so tense, Granger?”

If she’d been tense before, it was nothing compared to what she became in that moment. She
kicked herself inwardly for not setting the ground rules like she had planned.

Planned Ground Rule #1: No public contact

Well, that was shot to shit already.

She spun around with rage in her eyes, aware that many faces were turned their way, raptly
watching their interaction.

“What do you want, Malfoy?”

He looked puzzled for a moment, but then glanced around at the curious faces and caught on.
Thank Gods.

“I need to speak with you,” he said in a low voice.

For Merlin’s sake! What the bloody hell could this be about? What was so urgent that he had
to approach her in the most public of places?!

Through gritted teeth she retorted, “do you expect me to rise from my seat mid-breakfast and
follow you out of the hall?”

With raised eyebrows and voice, he said, “Wow, Granger. It can’t be that time of the month,
can it? I think I would have noti-”

She stood abruptly as a way of cutting off his sentence and said, “Move.”

At first she walked behind him as they exited, but she didn’t like the way that looked. As if
she were subservient. Instead, she overtook him so that he had to follow her out of the hall.
Copious whispers and mutterings followed them as they went.

They stopped at the first empty classroom and went inside, sealing the door with the
appropriate charms.

He rounded on her. “Contraception.”

“What?”

“Did you use the contraception charm?”

She scoffed loudly. “Of course I did. You think I would want your slimy spawn taking up
residence in my womb?”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Well yes, in fact, that’s exactly what I’ve begun to think. Glad
you’ve caught on so fast.”

Her mind reeled. It took her a few moments to work out what he was saying, and when she
finally did, she plastered an appropriately affronted look on her face as she looked back at
him.

“You thought my secret aim in all of this was to become pregnant with your child? You have
got to be kidding me.”

He shrugged. “It would make sense. You’re alone, and from what I hear practically an
orphan. Friends have all abandoned you here. That Order of Merlin money isn’t going to last
a lifetime. Why not secure a ticket for a free ride?”

It was the scoff to end all scoffs, and Hermione let it rip!

“So this is your opinion of me?! Thank you for explaining so fully, Malfoy.”

“Do you deny it then?”

“Of course I bloody well deny it, you incomparable arse! In what universe would I ever want
to be connected with you in such a way? As if I would want my child to have a death eater
for a father!”

At this, he stilled. His face became a stone bust.

“Take that back, Granger.”

He was so still! The mouth of a ventriloquist! No matter, she wouldn’t be intimidated.

“Why should I? It’s the truth,” she parried.

“Take it back now,” he said, advancing on her menacingly.

She stood her ground. They were nose to nose.

“No,” she said, wrapping as much defiance into one syllable as was humanly possible.

They stood there seething at each other for what felt like five minutes, which was actually an
incredibly long time to stare another person in the face.

“Take. It. Back,” he said.

“Make me,” she retorted, baring her teeth at him.

His gaze dropped to her mouth as she did so, and suddenly, so very suddenly… the air
between them shifted. From teeming hatred… to unquenchable lust.

He captured her mouth in a kiss and wrapped his arms around her neck. It was suffocating.
Vying for the upper hand instinctively, she shoved his arms away down and pinned them
down to his waist. He struggled to break free, but she had been lifting quite regularly, and
could actually overpower him. This he did not like one bit, and he cast a wandless stinging
jinx on her wrists to get her to let go. She let go, but withheld her squeal of pain. Doing so
took great effort, but it was well worth the satisfaction of him not knowing he’d hurt her.

All the while, they were making out furiously, allowing each other’s tongues to lave
generously over lips, teeth, cheeks, jawlines, whatever was within reach.

Without warning, his fingers were inside her.

Bloody hell, how had he accomplished such a feat?

She hardly knew, but she hardly cared either, for he was curving his piano fingers at a
dizzying angle, and she was already seconds from coming undone.

She could not ever remember being brought this quickly, not even by her own hand.

Refusing to allow him the level of smug satisfaction that would surely follow her climax,
should she allow it to occur, she painstakingly shoved his hand away and grasped his hard
cock in the same movement.

The speed with which she then undid his trousers was legendary, and she was gratified to feel
him slump forward onto her for support, as her caresses and pulls immediately had the same
effect on him that his fingers had had on her. She made to kneel in front of him and turn
things up a notch, but…

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, grasping her upper arms, and pulling her up from the floor. “I’m
putting you on a diet. No more cock lollies for you for a month.”

She whimpered and stomped her foot. “Why not?!” she cried, as she gaped at him like a
punished child.

“Because,” he said, and the tone of his voice paired with the sudden severe look in her eye
sent a chill through her. For a moment, she felt a tingle of real fear course through her body
as he stared down at her, stepping forward and pinning her against the wall.

“If I am going to have my cock shoved down your throat, I am going to do so on my own
terms.”

Unable to suppress it, a wry smile appeared on her face and she quirked a non-aristocratic
eyebrow at him.

“You hate being out of control so much that you’d rather forego having your prick sucked
than allow a few moments of weakness-”

“I will allow zero moments of weakness, that’s right. I still haven’t figured out what this is all
about for you, Granger, but mark my words. I will do so. Until then, I will enjoy fucking you
senseless on my terms.”

His terms, indeed. As if.

Hermione knew that there was no way he would discover her motives. At least, not until she
revealed them herself. By that time, if she was lucky, he would have formed some semblance
of an emotional attachment to her, and she could have the double whammy of getting her
money and humiliating the cocky prat at the same time.

Heh… cocky.

“Very well, Malfoy. You’re just lucky I enjoy being dominated almost as much as the
reverse.”

He released his famous scoff. “I don’t trifle with luck, I make my own. Now bend over. I owe
you punishment for your filthy mouth.”

Violently grabbing at her hips, he spun her around and bent her over the nearest desk.

Classroom eleven had never seen a show such as the one that followed.

With a quick shift of her knickers, he had plunged inside of her. It stung a bit, given that
they’d fucked well into the previous night and Hermione had forgotten to cast the necessary
healing charms.

Merlin, he still felt so good. It truly was lucky for her, she thought, that Malfoy happened to
be incredible in bed… or, er… on desk… because it meant that for all the time she would
have had to endure allowing him to fuck her to reach her monetary goal, she could actually
enjoy herself.

There was, of course, the added bonus of being able to fuck with him in the process as well…

She put on a bit of an extra show, though it wasn’t difficult to fake. He stretched her out in all
the right ways, and his hands were surprisingly soft as he grasped her waist and his fingers
rubbed at the skin where the top of her skirt and bottom of her shirt met. Clearly, he wasn’t
interested in much foreplay. The small amount of skin to skin contact set her on fire, and she
craved more of his touch. Deftly, she tore at her white button down and the satisfying clink of
small plastic buttons on stone floor filled the room.

“Malfoy…” she gasped between heaving breaths. “Play… with… my… tits…”

He continued to thrust into her, and at first it seemed as though he would ignore her. Then,
finally he responded, and it became apparent to her that he had been trying not to come.

“You don’t get to make the commands right now, Granger.”

Fine. He wanted to play that game? She could give as good as she got.

Reaching back slowly, she trailed her hand between her own legs, and before he’d ever
realized what was happening, cupped his balls gingerly and began massaging them. She
could feel his entire body tense, his breathing shallow.

“G- Granger-”
“Mmm, Malfoy,” she responded before he could command her to stop. “Fuck me harder, I
deserve it.”

She had to stifle her grin when he next uttered, in a high-pitched squeal, “What?”

“I do, I do, I’m such a bad little muggle born. Slam your giant cock in me and make it hurt,
please. Aaah!”

She could tell that he, all at once, both knew what she was doing and could not resist it. His
struggle was delicious! His thrusts became hesitant and furious at the same time. She
maintained her gentle grip on his sack and caressed him teasingly. Judging by his speed and
intensity, he was getting close. His grip on her hips tightened and his breathing was coming
out through gritted teeth.

“Mmmm… that’s so goooood… yes, Malfoy, please...”

“Yea you like that you little whore, don’t you?”

Well, that was a bit much, wasn’t it?

Then again, her aim was to get money. She shrugged inwardly and allowed him to go on
unabated.

“I am, I am, I’m a dirty whore who loves being fucked, but only by you, Malfoy.”

She then had to suppress a laugh when her comment only fueled him further! She could feel
the bruises forming on her hips already.

“That’s right, I fucking own you. You’ll take it whenever I want, because you- you are-”

But she didn’t get to hear what she was, because he was right on the edge of exploding into
her.

Jackpot. Time to act.

“Yes, yes I will! Now put our baby inside me, Malfoy!”

“Aaack – what?!” he yelled, still furiously pumping into her.

“I didn’t cast a contraceptive, please fill me with a tiny Malfoy! Aaaah!”

Her timing could not have been more perfect. He had already begun spilling his seed by the
time the words left her mouth, and he could not stop mid-flow. He bucked into her harshly,
allowing the last few pumps of baby batter into her cunt before pulling out and shoving her
roughly by the hips.

“You fucking psycho!” he yelled.

He received no response, however, because Hermione was hunched over the desk in laughter,
her bare ass still in the air and her folds dripping with his release.
“What the fuck are you laughing about?!”

There were tears of mirth dripping down her cheeks as she managed to come to a standing
position and turned around to face him.

Through her laughter she managed to say, “Did… did you really think I meant it?”

Fits of giggles. Fit and fits.

“What?” he said sharply, his teeth bared.

“Tah.. ta.. tiny Malfoy?”

With that she collapsed into a renewed bout of hysterics, which continued on even after she’d
heard him fumble with his wand before unsealing the door and storming out.

She remained in there for a good five minutes, which was actually a long time to squat on the
floor, panties dripping with pureblood seed, in an attack of feverish laughter.

oOoOoOo

Draco stamped out of the classroom and down the corridor, a murderous rage coursing
through him. His desire to go back and cruciate the witch to within an inch of her life was so
strong that he’d need to go and ward himself in is dorm. Perhaps for the next few days.

It simply would not do for him to legitimately attack her. His war crimes had technically been
forgiven, but he would not put it past the Ministry to withdraw their allegiance should he
harm the Golden Girl. Plus, the fact that he was not thrown in Azkaban did not mean he was
respected and trusted by all. There were still many who would not even look at him, and he
did not want to make that any worse.

How dare she make a fool of him in such a way? He was so beyond angry he could hardly
form thoughts.

Making his way down to his dorm, he suddenly remembered what time it was. He needed to
get to potions.

Fuck.

Slughorn didn’t hold classes in the dungeons. He doubled back, passing his old potion’s
classroom. Snape’s rooms were left as something like a monument to the man, and Draco felt
a slight pain in his chest as he went by.

Never mind that. He’d deal with it later. Or never. Probably never.
He’d been attempting to go inside the office the night Hermione had found him in the hall
and made her… proposition. He’d been distracted from the task since then, and wasn’t sure
he’d be revisiting it.

Finally making his way up to the potions classroom, relief washed over him as he realized he
was not late. That relief was quickly replaced by shaking anger as he realized that the only
available seat was next to…

“Miss Granger, you will be paired with Mr. Malfoy! Just in time, Malfoy. Do have a seat and
we will get started.”

Partner work. Of course.

He stomped over to the desk and threw his bag down between them, hitting her right leg in
the process. She did not flinch, but continued looking straight ahead at the front of the class
with a shite eating smirk on her face.

Salazar’s balls, he hated her. His desire to inflict extreme pain flared in him once more, and
he took seat along with a steadying breath.

Do. Not. Act.

Glancing over to his right, he realized that Theo and Blaise were seated together and were
both smiling and waving at him serenely.

Fucking tossers. He sneered back with a small shake of his head, and then began to
implement his occlumency practice. He needed to keep his cool.

“Now everyone, I know we have been speaking of theories and doing solitary brewing thus
far, but the work is about to get very practical and exceedingly difficult. So! Shake hands
with the person next to you, for they will be your partner for the year.”

No. He gaped over at her, seeing that she had covered her mouth in an effort not to let
laughter escape.

“Glad you think this is funny, Granger. You won’t be laughing for long.”

It was an idle threat. He wouldn’t risk sabotaging her, as it would reflect on his own grade,
but no harm in casting a bit of fear over the bitch.

It worked. She uncovered her mouth and looked at him with wide eyes.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she said quietly.

He made no reply but simply raised his eyebrows at her once and turned back to face
slughorn.

Right, he wasn’t going to physically harm her. He needed to play her purely psychological
game instead. Using the occlumency he had learned to wield so well in the war, he packed
 away his pesky feelings inside neat little mind boxes, along with his godfather grief, and
focused on the task at hand.

“Today, we will be using dittany and silver to make the treatment for werewolf bites. We
begin the year this way because I have it on good authority that this particular concoction will
come up in your testing, so do take excellent notes and plan to practice this one multiple
times throughout the year on your own time. It is likely that no one will get it quite right
today!”

Hermione had sat up straight as a pin upon hearing this information.

He couldn’t fault her, really. He was just as keen to pass his exams with straight O’s. If he
was honest, she was the best person in the class for him to be paired with. They were sure to
be top of the class individually, but especially together.

No, he would not be interfering with her schooling this year. There were much better options
if he wanted to inflict pain.

Perhaps instead of continuing to openly loathe her, he could feign indifference, and
eventually… love.

He could make Hermione Granger fall in love with him, by making her think he was falling
in love with her.

Confidence and excitement surged through him as the brilliance of this idea set in.

He relaxed into the assignment, working quietly in tandem with her. That stupid smile was
still plastered across her face, and while he noticed a waning of his own anger due to his new
plan, he was careful not to drop his coldness too quickly.

He was, after all, Draco Malfoy. In her eyes, nothing but a prideful prat who held grudges
like hoarders held old copies of The Prophet. He wouldn’t disabuse her of that notion. Not
exactly.

Or rather, not quickly.

He’d make it a slow, calculated burn.

And in the end, she would indeed burn for him.

Chapter End Notes

I burn for your comments.

 Library Shenanigans
Chapter Summary

Some sexy shenanigans go down in the Hogwarts library. Will Madame Pince join in,
or...?

Let's find out!

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The weeks went on and they fell into a sort of routine. It was all very clinical, for the most
part. They’d meet up (usually in her quarters at night) they’d fuck, he would leave to sleep in
his dorm, they’d go about their days.

Hermione had been surprised at first that Draco had let her little stunt go. He wasn’t being
nice to her, exactly, but he seemed to have shoved his pride aside in favor of the fucking.

Typical Slytherin, she thought. The ends justified the means.

Day by day, Hermione was splitting her time other between her advanced schoolwork and the
building of her SPEW empire. She’d already researched what would be required to turn it
into a non-profit organization. Board members needed to be recruited.

Neville had agreed long ago to help in any way he could, so she didn’t even need to make the
request. He could be her VP.

Beyond that, she thought she had an adequate roster of other friends she could strong arm
into holding positions.

To her dismay, however, her first three owls (to Ron, Harry, and Ginny) had come back with
answers in the negative. Ron and Harry both claiming to be too busy with auror work (lame)
and Ginny with her quidditch team (blast that sport).

She sat in the library during a free period, composing letters to the b-squad: Dean, Seamus,
and Luna, while putting off contacting older Order members for the time being. She wasn’t
keen on having this be too high profile just yet. It was always dangerous to share a big goal
with too many people, lest it be squashed out by naysayers before it could even begin.

As she bent over the second letter, a voice suddenly spoke directly into her left ear.

“Who’re you writing to, Granger?”

She nearly jumped out of her chair, and as her head snapped up, she came inches away from
head-butting the pale prat.

Too bad.

Also, he smelled divine, which was annoying.

“Nose out, Malfoy. What are you doing here, anyway?” she said, glancing around to check
whether anyone was watching them. She still wasn’t interested in their arrangement being
public. Similar to the larger plan with SPEW, too many people knowing about a thing had a
way of making it lose its spark.

Not that she had a spark with Malfoy, of course, it was… well they had admitted chemistry,
of course, but that was just hormones.

“Oh,” he said, glancing around as well, “I’m sorry, I was not aware that you had claimed the
library as private territory. Should I usher all these other sods out for you, your highness?”

“Not them,” she hissed, “just you.”

He feigned being hurt by her words, placing a hand over her heart and closing his eyes.

“You wound me. Truly. What I would not give for an ounce of your approval, Granger.”

She rolled her eyes so hard that you could practically hear it. Yep, she was becoming a master
of the audible eye roll.

Hermione stood, but this did little to decrease the inequality of their positions. Malfoy still
towered over her. It didn’t matter to her, though, she moved inches away from him and
quietly said, “The only approval you’ll ever get from me will be because you provided me
adequate opportunity to get off.”

He grimaced for a moment, but then shifted to a curious brow quirk.

“Adequate?”

She returned the brow quirk with a small nod and said, “Adequate.”

Glaring down at her, chest heaving, she saw his eyes darken before he said, “Runes stacks.
Now.”

It took Hermione a moment to understand what he meant. The school had been unable to
procure a Runes professor for the new school year, and so that section of the library was quite
abandoned.

He had already moved halfway across the room by the time she managed to hiss, “Malfoy!”

He spun around effortlessly and said, “Now or our deal is off.”

Eyes widening, she was torn between wanting to end the public interaction as quickly as
possible, and wanting to call his bluff by refusing. With very little time to consider her next
move, she decided to cede to him for now, gathering her things quickly and following him,
even though he’d already disappeared into the stacks.

The moment she stepped into the aisle where he was waiting, she’d been scooped into his
arms, his lips crashing against hers with supreme determination. He placed her gingerly on
the wide ledge of the stacks. Her back pressed against rune books unknown.

Well, she’d certainly fantasized many times about a scene like this. Although, none of her
fantasies included anyone as reprehensible as the wizard currently ravishing her mouth and
grasping at her wrists. It was odd, actually, he didn’t usually focus there. She wondered idly
why he was doing so, but brushed it away as a wave of desire moved through her body as his
hot tongue began laving at the spot behind her ear.

She let out an involuntary whimper and he pulled away abruptly, placing a finger over her
mouth.

“I’m not going to silence you, Granger, but you’re going to silence yourself.”

She grimaced at him and reached for her own wand, but he grabbed her hand.

“Now now, I didn’t mean with magic. If my abilities are only adequate, you shouldn’t have a
hard time making no noise at all.”

She drew in a sharp breath, staring him dead in the eyes. It was a challenge. The gauntlet had
been thrown. Her head made a small nod. He gave a shite-eating-grin in reply, and returned to
what he’d been doing to her neck.

Her mouth instinctively opened, but she clasped it shut. She could simply perform her own
silencing charm wandlessly, but Hermione loved a challenge.

She wasn’t going to spoil her own fun. That would just be stupid.

As he moved his mouth down to her chest, she grasped his hair in what she hoped was a
painful manner. Then again, for all she knew he liked pain. It was something they hadn’t yet
explored in all their nights together.

Still, it always felt good to hurt him a little bit, so she pressed on. Thinking she might give his
nether regions a similar treatment, she reached down, but he caught her hand again and
looked into her eyes.

“No,” he whispered, “just you right now.”

Then his eyes lingered on hers a beat too long, and she felt a swoop in her stomach.

What the fuck was that?

But the question only hung in the air for a moment before he’d unbuttoned her shirt and had
his tongue on her nipple. He laved over it with a gently yet greedily, and she felt herself
dampen in her knickers. She loved it over her lace bra, and could feel her pulse speeding up
as he continued to focus on that without moving the material out of the way. Then he moved
to the other side and ran his thumb over the one he’d just abandoned. The start of a moan left
her mouth, and she clasped a hand over it immediately.

“If we get caught, Granger, it’s on you,” he whispered. (You know what, let’s just assume
everything they say here is in a whisper. Cool? Cool.)

She chided herself for being so careless and resolved not to let another sound slip. They were
tucked away in a back corner and there had not been very many students around, but Madame
Pince was omniscient as ever these days, and the thrilled it caused in her to have the threat of
being caught was alarming. It only served to turn her on even more, and she cursed her stupid
sex-brain for it, as all the credit for her innate fantasies would be attributed to his prowess.

Then again, she had to admit (to herself) that he was so much more than adequate.

Indeed, on the nights when he didn’t come around, she routinely touched herself thinking
about previous encounters they’d had. Most notably their first kiss.

She just had a thing for first kisses. All the tension. The intrigue.

The way someone’s unique taste felt so foreign yet exciting.

How strange tongues felt. It was always like “really, this is what tongues feel like?” Sort of
the same sensation as when you look at a word for too long and wonder if it’s even a word.

Abruptly, Malfoy pulled back and looked into her eyes again.

“You’re thinking too much.”

She looked back at him, affronted.

“Well then give me something to not think about,” she snapped.

Hands still on her lacy breasts, he leaned in, scanning her face. A small smile played at the
corners of his lips.

“I’ve thought about this, you know,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. “Of doing this to you.
Here.”

“You… you what?”

He nodded. “Oh yea. Little know it all book work Hermione Granger getting fucked up
against her favorite texts. You’re the perfect fantasy, Hermione.”

She had no words. For once in her life, Hermione Granger was fucking speechless. Just when
she thought she could not be more stunned…

“You’re my fantasy, Hermione.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck.
What was he even saying?
And why was it making her cunt throb?

She let out a harsh breath as he dove between her legs. Now on his knees, his head having
disappeared beneath her skirt, he began devouring her pussy and she had to reach back above
her head and grip the dusty shelves to keep herself steady. It was taking everything in her not
to cry out.

What he’d said, paired with what he’d begun doing to her… it was all just…

So far from adequate.

Alright, he’d basically won. She wouldn’t deny him the admission if and when he asked for
it.

All thought left her mind after that when he shoved those long, smooth fingers inside of her
and began searching for the perfect spot. Of course he found it quickly. It was as though he’d
memorized her.

She was quickly building to climax as he licked and kissed her clit, just the way she liked it.
He hadn’t even hiked up her skirt, and somehow the sight of his head lost beneath the
material made it all the more arousing.

As her orgasm built, she could not help but let out a few high-pitched “ah’s.”

He doubled down when he heard the sounds, fucking her with his fingers and licking up all of
her juices as he went.

“Did you hear that?”

A female voice had spoken from a nearby stack.

“I think it came from back here.”

A male voice responded.

Students, to be sure, but still.

Though it absolutely crushed her to stop him, she wasn’t sure he could hear and was not
willing to be caught there with him by two students. Not by anyone, for that matter.

Painstakingly, she brought her foot up to his shoulder and shoved him back. Grabbing her
wand, she hopped off the shelf and cast the fastest disillusionment charm of all time, then
grabbed him and pulled him under the shelf she’d been being pleasured on.

It was just in time, as the students peered around the corner and stepped between the stacks.

Hermione had to hold in a gasp as she recognized them as a pair of seventh year Ravenclaws
she’d caught during rounds. They’d been… acting out a particular student/professor fantasy
in the unused Ancient Runes classroom.

How ironic.

“Huh, that’s odd. I could have sworn.”

“Well, as long as we’re here.”

It didn’t matter which one of them said what! They were about to get it on in that same aisle!

There was dropping of bags and the distinct sound of sloppy kisses. Grunts. Giggles.

And Draco’s mouth was suddenly back on her clit after only a small amount of fumbling and
searching.

Hermione would have gasped, but her need was so strong that she immediately welcomed the
contact. Relief swirled through her, mixed with dread that she would not be able to contain
her climactic response. Then again, the prospect of being caught… the fact that they were in
plain sight and only disillusioned… it made it all so much more erotic.

His expert fingers curled up into her, his pressure was intense now. Normally, she liked to be
licked slowly and thoroughly, but he seemed to be experimenting with speed, and it was
much to her delight. Heart pounding out of her chest, she arched into him where she lay,
sprawled on her back, now only dimly aware of the sounds of the couple who were going at it
mere feet away.

Finally, she came. Her mouth was cemented open, and she let out a soundless scream as she
was brought perfectly by his fingers and mouth. Once the contact on her clit was too much,
he moved to kissing all around on her thighs, and running his fingers over her hip bones.

It was such a loving sort of caress, she had never experienced anything like it from him
before. There was nothing for her to do but lay there, as the couple was still at it.

Then he was kissing her neck again, taking both of her hands in his and interlacing their
fingers.

“Hermione,” he said into her neck.

Then he ran a thumb over her pulse point and she wondered again why he was focusing on
that particular spot.

Just then…

“Aha!” The shrill voice of Madame Pince filled the aisle, and a wave of shock flew through
Hermione before she remembered that they were still disillusioned.

“You two again! I’ll have you banned from the library!”

As the library matron descended upon her quarry, Hermione had the sudden urge to get as far
away from this oddly doting version of Draco Malfoy as possible. He had moved off of her at
the entrance of Pince into the fray and she took the opportunity to simply stand and flee.
She’d had the foresight to grab and disillusion her bag before she’d gone below the shelves.

When she saw that the rest of the library was now empty (it was lunch time) she removed her
disillusionment charm. She thought she heard Malfoy call out to her as she stealthily walked
away, but she ignored it.

Her progress out of the library was halted when she then heard Madame Pince say, “Malfoy!
What were you doing down there?”

She gasped. The charm. It had been for both of them, and she’d just removed it.

A number of realities crashed upon her at once.

He would be expelled for certain.

Her plan for SPEW would be crushed.

Not to mention her fabulous orgasms.

She turned back and made her way to the stacks, peering around the corner at the scene.
Pince had picked up Malfoy by the ear, even though he was about two feet taller than her.
Both Ravenclaws stood, backs against the books, looking a mixture of stunned and disgusted.

There was nothing for it. Hermione did the only thing she could think to do.

“Stupefy!”

Pince was down.

“Stupefy! Stupefy!”

Ravenclaws, neutralized.

Then, with a forced sense of calm, she strode over to all three in turn and said, “Obliviate.”

The memory of performing this same charm on two death eaters in a muggle café swam into
her mind, and she brushed it away.

Those were the kinds of thoughts that didn’t need thinking on.

She positioned the couple as if they had fallen asleep in one another’s embrace, and then
turned to levitate Madame Pince. All the way back to her desk the witch went. Hermione had
implanted the memory that she’d simply put her head down for a moment of shut-eye and
fallen fully asleep.

Once she was finished with that task, she looked up and saw Draco staring at her, completely
gobsmacked.

“Granger, you…that was…”

 “It was necessary. That was far too close. I won’t be taking any chances like that with you
again.”

Then she turned to leave, but Malfoy reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her to him.

“Thank you,” he breathed, his lips now dangerously close to hers.

But they never did affection. Never did sincerity. She kept her face impassive, and simply
pulled away without a "you're welcome" or really any indication that she had heard him.
Mumbling something about not wanting to miss lunch, she swiftly exited the library.

Chapter End Notes

Since this chapter doesn't switch to Draco's POV, I will post another of similar length in
one week, rather than making you wait two :) I AM SO NICE TO YOU, AREN'T
I??????

COMMENTS ARE COOL

 Director's Commentary
Chapter Notes

I promised a bonus chapter since the last one was a little short.

Here's my NO LEMONS warning.

Because in this fic, it's more unusual to have a chapter without lemons than with.

Hashtag nolemons

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Draco arrived back at his dorm, desperately needing to forego lunch in the great hall in favor
of doing some much needed deliberation.

His plan had not turned out exactly as… planned.

He’d had the idea to go and find her in the library to coax her into the stacks with him. Then,
he could proceed to slip in some comments that would make him seem more arduous than
she would perhaps expect… just to fuck with her a bit.

That part had gone perfectly.

He’d also planned on planting the pulse monitor on her wrist, a device he’d recently procured
from a wizard sex shop (owl order) which allowed one’s partner to essentially experience the
pleasure of the other, in order to ensure maximum performance.

Mission accomplished.

Her comment about his adequacy, however, had shifted his overall aim for the day.

He had only intended to play a game with her of having to keep her voice down, but the
added insult to his prowess in the bedroom had made it that much sweeter that he’d brought
in the pulse monitor.

In addition, he’d managed to snag one of her finished letters from the table when he’d leaned
over her, and was about to break the seal and see what had been so important that she’d taken
her free period to write it.

But before giving that his full attention, he found himself trying to puzzle out why she’d
saved him.
Surely, she should have allowed him to be caught. Why put herself in such peril as to attack a
Hogwarts staff member? It went against everything he thought he knew about her.

Then again, so did their whole arrangement.

Perhaps there was more to her than he knew.

She had more Slytherin in her than expected… and now she literally had a Slytherin in her on
a regular basis.

Haha. Oh, word play.

Brushing away the train of thought, he opened the letter and began to read.

It was to Lovegood, asking her to become part of something called SPEW.

What the fuck was SPEW? A truly regrettable acronym, he thought.

Come to think of it, he’d seen a few students sporting badges with the same letters and had
thought little of it. He made a mental note to corner one of them soon and find out what it
meant.

His opportunity to do so came that evening at dinner.

“Creevy!”

The second-year cousin to the Creevy brothers turned around slowly and regarded Draco with
giant, glassy bug eyes. These were made all the more jarring by the thick, round glasses he
wore. A sad imitation of Harry Potter, with a prescription fit for a bat.

“M-m-m Mr. m-m-m-Malfoy, S-s-s-sir?”

Oh bother. This could take a while.

Keen on speeding up the interaction, Draco pointed to the sparkling badge on the boy’s robes.

“What does it stand for?” he asked, trying his best to sound non-threatening so the kid would
maybe get his words out quicker.

Creevy looked down at the badge and back up at Draco, cocking his head to the side.

“What this? But why would you…”

“I’m asking the questions here,” Draco growled, taking a step closer.

Creevy visibly and audibly gulped before words began to pour out of his mouth at a rapid
pace.

“The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare! It’s Miss Granger’s organization to help
the house elves receive fair treatment! Lovely chatting with you, I really must be off!”
With that, he sprinted away from Draco and disappeared from hall.

Elfish welfare.

Something clicked in his brain. He remembered her first attempt to start this asinine club
back in fourth year. Potter and Weasley had been some of her only members, but as he
scanned the Great Hall he noticed badges proudly sat on a majority of the robes.

Obviously, these people couldn’t truly give a shit about house elves. It looked more like a
trend everyone was trying to be a part of.

He took the letter to Luna Lovegood out again and re-read it, now with the correct context in
place.

So, she needed board members. Seemed pretty panicked about it that day in the library as
well.

Was their some sort of elf genocide being planned that he was unaware of?

And why hadn’t she ever mentioned this to him?

Wait, that was a stupid thought, why would she mention anything about her life to him,
really?

They just fucked. That was it.

He didn’t care what she did in her spare time.

Then again, in his little crusade to make her fall in love with him, this could be exceedingly
valuable information.

So she needed board members, huh? Well what could be more useful than having a
Pureblood owner of house elves on her side?

It would be the perfect way to sway her towards caring for him.

He entered his dorm and tossed the letter to Lovegood in the fire as he passed by.

A voice came from behind the curtain around Theo’s four-poster.

“Burning evidence, Malfoy?”

Turning around, Draco saw Theo’s eye peeking through the slit in the bed hangings.

“What’s he done now?” came Blaise’s voice from out of sight.

“Oh good, you're both here. Are you decent?”

“Are we ever?” They responded in unison.

“Well put some pants on and meet me in the common room, I have something to discuss with
both of you."

They weren't really his friends, but they had enough in common to respect one another.

It was quick thinking on Draco's part to tap them as a resource. They both could use the
money, given that their parents were not in support of their relationship, and were
withholding their trusts indefinitely.

He gave them a deal worth their while and they agreed to be on the board of SPEW that day.
His instructions to them had been to approach Hermione together, and “out” as a secret to her
to gain her trust. Then, confess they heard she’s looking for board members and they’d like to
volunteer as a way of improving their image and also righting a terrible wrong.

They didn’t hate their house elves, but neither were particularly fussed about the damn
things. Still, they could play it up a bit. Everything else, was entirely true. Their public image
was more fucked than Draco’s. Shunned from families behind bars? Does it get any sadder?

Draco wondered why they bothered attending school. They should go get settled in the US,
away from their histories.

It’s what Draco would do if he weren’t waiting on an inheritance.

As soon as he could get married and have it, he’d see about leaving Britain.

It didn’t really matter to him who he married, he didn’t intend to be faithful, given that it
likely wouldn’t be up to him to choose the wife.

He wasn’t sure exactly how it would go, given that his parents were under house arrest for a
year. It probably wasn’t something he had to think about any time soon.

WINK WINK NUDGE NUDGE!

Probably some stuck up pureblood bitch with a stick up her arse, who wouldn’t be able to
hold a stimulating conversation if it meant she could have all the money in their inevitable
divorce.

Hint: she wouldn’t get it.

Anyway, that was just plot exposition. Let’s get back to the saucy story!

* Quick Peek into Hermione’s POV *

.
“So what the both of you are saying is that you’d like to serve as board members of my non-
profit?”

“Yes,” Theo said.

“That’s correct,” added Blaise.

She crossed her arms. This was so odd.

“Tell me something, how did you even know I was looking? Who is this mysterious source?”

Though she may have imagined it, Hermione thought she heard one of them stomp on the
other’s foot under their robes. It happened so quickly before they were talking again.

“We have house elves, house elves talk,” Blaise said, with a slight strain to his voice.

She squinted at him. “Yes, but I’ve only been looking for board members for a few weeks,
you haven’t been home in that time.”

Blaise cocked an eyebrow at her. “I have elves loyal to me here. My Mum set ours free and
some of them work for Hogwarts now. They still relate to me as a master, though I don’t
order them to. I overheard them in the Slytherin dorms talking about your plans.”

He grinned. “They aren’t very fond of you, most of them, you know?”

Now she definitely wasn’t imagining it, Theo elbowed Blaise in the ribs.

“You fucking tit!” he said, shoving Theo. Theo grabbed his collar, however, and pulled
Blaise’s face to meet his.

“When we’re trying to convince the lovely lady to allow us to help her, perhaps we shouldn’t
degrade her entire operation to her face, hmm?”

“I wasn’t saying anything degrading! Just the truth! And furthermore, it’s relevant to her
interests and ours, because I bet we could get our own elves on her side, and have them go
convince others. We can convince them all to expect freedom and pay!”

“You know,” Hermione said, “That’s actually a fantastic idea. You’re on.”

Theo and Blaise looked over at her in surprise. “Really?!

“Yes, really. I’m totally okay with you both doing all this free work for me just for being
publicly attached to my name. I can’t believe, by the way, that I can essentially use my image
as currency. Isn’t that a load of bollocks?”

Blaise looked at her, perplexed. “A load of bollocks that nearly everyone that matters thinks
you’re amazing and would do anything to be connected with you?”

She nodded matter-of-factly. “Yea. It’s pure bollocks.”

“Uh, which part? The part where you’re consistently given the benefit of the doubt? The part
where you have job security for life? Or the part where your absolute fucking darkest days
are already behind you?”

“You don’t know that,” she said.

“Which part?”

“Any of it. Alright? Don’t talk like you know me. You’re on the bloody board.”

She reached into her pocket and withdrew two golden coins, tossing them to each man in
turn.

“I’ll use these to contact you. Keep them in your pockets where you can feel them. Feel free
to just start working on convincing your elves.”

After she’d walked away and rounded a corner, she heard what sounded like a high five
followed by a muffled, “wow, that actually hurt quite a bit.”

* Peek back into Draco’s POV *

The plan had worked, Theo and Blaise were officially board members. He wasn’t sure if that
fulfilled Hermione’s needs entirely, but she seemed far less stressed in the days following
their ruse.

Coincidentally, Blaise and Theo seemed to have developed an actual liking of the cause they
were only pretending to support. He found them holding court with a variety of the Hogwarts
elves in their dorm room one night. They were campaigning for Granger. Of course she
would lead a cause whose victims do not even want the cause in the first place and need to be
talked into it. Bleeding heart Gryffindors.

And apparently, Slytherins. Or else, they were just better suited for politics all around.

It didn’t matter to him how they went about it, he just needed it to work out. That way, he
could spring it on her as a romantic gesture that he had asked Theo and Blaise to offer their
help. He didn’t want to tell her until he was sure it would work out well for her.

He needed to play both the long and the short games.

With that long-game move laid out, he refocused on the short.

.
.
.
.
.
And now for something entirely different, let’s cut to Parvati and Lavender in the booth!

Ladies? What say you about this crazy plot?

P: Well thank you so much, Ms. Silver, we are honored to be here today.
L: Yes, we love you!
LS: Oh thank you, ladies, truly. That’s so surprising to me seeing as I haven’t included
either of you in any of my stories so far.
P&L: shrug emojiiii!
LS: Alright, well I hope this weird aside makes up for it! Let’s hear that commentary!

P: You got it, Ms. Silver. Well, it says here that Draco is playing sort of a long game/short
game con. He’s engaging her in little intrigues at present, while also setting up longer,
more thought out gestures of love, so it will be harder not to believe.

L: That’s right Parvti, and Hermione is already a bit thrown by it, isn’t she? In that last
scene in the library it felt like she was getting freaked out by Draco’s pillow talk.

P: That’s right! But she also said it would be a bonus if he fell in love with her…

L: She did, but I think that she’s forgetting herself. I think that she likes it when he’s all
doting, and that scares her!

P: Oh holy shit, I didn’t even realize that.

L: Yea, you gotta pay close attention.

P: So, Lav, who do you think will win in this secret battle of wits?

L: *ahem* sexy wits.

P: Oh yes, sexy wits!

L: Well, I actually don’t believe either will win.

P: Is that right?

L: Yes, I think they’ll both have their hearts broken one way or another, and they’ll be
complete arseholes about it and it will never work out.

P: Ms. Silver, is this story HEA?

LS: Have any of my stories had unhappy endings so far?

L: Oh um, we haven’t actually read any.

P: Seeing as we aren’t in them.

 LS: Yea, that’s fair. No worries. Let’s leave it for the readers to decide in the comments!
Where are we headed in this story, gang? Parvati, Lavender, and I can’t wait to hear what
you have to say.

P: Yep that’s right! Until next time!

L: Ciao Bella!

P: What was that?

L: Just trying to sound more… exotic!

P: Oh, fair play. It definitely did.

Chapter End Notes

i don't need to put anything here, I talked to you from inside the story
 Dummies With Feelings
Chapter Notes

This chapter was like a really stubborn poop. I took some plot fiber and things moved
right along...

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Back to the game…

Hermione was exhausted. Her classes that day had dragged on and on, or perhaps she was
just anxious to continue working on her non-profit paperwork, as she was now so close to
having all she needed to send it off.

She simply could not believe her good fortune for Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott coming
to her in their time of need, which just happened to coincide with her own! It was far too
perfect to be a coincidence, but she hardly cared.

Perhaps some fan of hers had caught on to her plans and urged them towards her. It really
didn't matter, and her curiosity on the subject was dim enough that she let the embers fully
die and pressed on with her work.

She'd been so busy that she hadn't seen Draco since the incident in the library a few days
prior. Part of their pattern had been to meet for a quick broom closet romp in the middle of
the day when they were both free, but he hadn't come to find her like any other Wednesday.

Happy hump day, indeed.

No matter, she could always service herself that evening if he was going to pull away from
her. She would find a way to rope him back in when necessary.

With so many balls in the air, she couldn’t just be thinking about his. WINKY FACE.

It was odd, though, given his rather arduous comments while they were fooling around in the
library, that he would pull away at all.

He had said that she’d been his fantasy. Could that be true? If so, for how long?

Or had he just been saying that?

The latter was likely the case, and she shook the thought from her mind as she stepped into
her private quarters.
She stopped and gasped when she saw Draco sitting on one of the chairs in her main room.
He looked up from the book he was holding, and she stared at the cover, recognition washing
over her.

“Are you reading Pride and Prejudice?!”

“And Zombies, actually. I read the original a long time ago, but saw this on your shelf,” he
said, gesturing to her packed book nook. “I couldn't resist finding out what it was like.”

Hermione still stood in the doorway, her body frozen as she attempted to process the scene.

“And?” she found herself saying.

He looked down, giving the book an appraising once over.

“Ridiculous yet enjoyable, if I'm only going off the first half or so.”

“How long have you been here that you've read half the book already?!”

He smirked. “I'm a very fast reader, Granger.”

Her eyes widened for a moment and it was not missed by him. Standing from the couch and
tossing the book aside he strode forward, hands in pockets, and said, “does that turn you on?”

“No,” she said, far too quickly.

It definitely did. It absolutely, positively, bet your entire Gringotts vault her knickers were
already wet, did.

He smirked knowingly. “Well, that's good, because I didn't come here for sex.”

She blinked. What had he just said? Her mind was all jostled around and she hadn’t
comprehended the words, as if they were a sentence in a book she’d read repeatedly without
taking in.

“Come again?” she uttered.

He shook his head. “No, unfortunately, I won't.”

She blinked some more. Blinking was an acceptable form of communication, she told herself.

He walked up to her and tucked a loose curl behind her ear, as any Draco Malfoy would do to
a Hermione Granger, in any trope really, if he was to embody some form of tenderness and
care. Tuck tuck tuck those curls, Draco.

Anyway, it worked, because she shivered at his touch.

“I just came to say thank you.”

“Again?” she said in a small voice. Damn it, what was happening to her?!
He nodded.

“Why?” she said in that same voice.

He laughed and smiled warmly at her.

With warmth!

“Because you really didn't have to do that,” he said in a low rasp, leaning in and pressing his
forehead to hers. “And you know it.”

She gaped at him, her mind whirring into action.

Of course she’d had to do it!

“Of course I had to do it!”

Only, she didn't get the sentence out. Exactly as it is written above is how she had intended to
dramatically shout it at him as she shoved him away from her.

For some reason, she had instead felt her voice to fade out after “of course...” and then time
seemed to slow as she grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a gentle, ever so sensual kiss.
It was more like their first kiss than any she'd had since. She brought her hands up to graze
his jawline and felt the usual rigidity in him melt away as her fingers went exploring up into
his hair.

A tiny voice in her head was screaming for her to stop, but it was like she’d been sucked into
some parallel universe where her gut instincts were all she had. Logic be damned. Strangely,
she felt as though he was being similarly affected.

Her touch was filled with wonder where it’d previously been filled with fury or passion. She
was discovering him slowly, and she could feel his reciprocation as he ran his thumb back
and forth on her collarbone. His other hand was locked in her curls, without grabbing them
menacingly as he usually did.

That shit was tender, if you're not picking up what I'm putting down.

Suddenly, he drew back and confusion flooded her brain. He seemed like he'd just
remembered something terrible or urgent.

“S-Sorry,” he said. “I've just… I have to... go.”

“Go? Go where?” She said with far too much panic in her voice for her liking.

He did not meet her eyes, but stared distractedly at the floor. Then he scanned the room
before locking on a particular spot. He strode purposefully toward it and grabbed something
up off a chair before turning toward the door and disappearing in five long strides.

Hermione couldn't say a thing as this happened. After he'd gone, she squinted over at the
chair for several long moments before realizing what he'd taken.
“And zombies,” she muttered aloud.

Her heart fluttered mischievously, and she scowled down at her traitor-filled-chest.

“Fuck me,” she said to the room at large.

oOoOoOo

Hermione lay in bed, attempting to sleep after that bizarre interaction with Draco. She was all
confused. Head flooded with… feelings.

She hadn’t had feelings in such a long time.

Perhaps the war had slowly numbed her out to such things. Perhaps it was the post war
nonsense that really had them deadened to the root… or so she’d thought.

In that moment, however, she couldn’t get Draco out of her head. The way he casually
grinned at her, and not in a mocking way. His seemingly genuine gratitude for what she’d
done in the library. His… proficiency with reading.

It was so stupid and she fucking hated herself for how much it did turn her on, but she
couldn’t help it. Godric be damned, it was sexy.

She put her hands over her face and groaned loudly. Anxiety began creeping into her chest,
daring her to try for some sleep. Of course this would happen the night before her earliest
class.

Finally, she recalled her declaration to service herself in the absence of Draco’s company that
night. Slipping her hand below her blanket and between her legs, she began slowly, gently
massaging herself, noting that there was no arousal to be found there just yet.

Determined not to think about Draco Malfoy, she went to her default fantasy: the tall dark
and handsome American muggle she’d met when on holiday with her parents in Australia.
He’d been there with his family as well, and they’d had a steamy summer fling.

She recalled the first time they’d fucked, and the slow, almost painful lead up to it. The walk
on the beach, hands accidentally touching. The stories he’d shared with her about his deepest
dreams and desires. How they’d settled on a blanket and merely read next to one another for
hours before he’d teased her, pinching her side and making her laugh. She’d retaliated in
kind, and it had become a pointless wrestling match. The kind that both parties knew would
lead to beach fucking, though neither would come out and say it.

Pressing soft circles over her clit as she brought back the full-bodied memory, she felt herself
begin to warm, a subtle wetness growing there.
His tickling turned into soft caressing and he grasped her hips in his hands, grazing his
thumbs over her hip bones and clearing his throat nervously. She had run her hands up his
chest, over his firm pectorals and up to his collarbone. She’d thought long and had about
licking that collar bone, so leaning in to do so felt as natural as the breeze blowing her hair.

Yea, this was such a reliable memory. Perfectly tantalizing and sinful.

As the recollection of his long, slender fingers sliding up her thighs between her skirt entered
her mind, she slipped her knickers aside just as he had, and glided her fingers gently into her
now throbbing wet cunt. A long moan left her lips as she did so.

She would go slow. She would be patient. She would tease herself.

In her mind, he was whispering in her ear, “I would love to taste you here. Will you let me?”

Ugh, consent was so sexy. Am I right, ladies?!

She’d whispered “Yes, please.”

He hadn’t wasted time, but had pressed her back onto the blanket and lowered his head
between her legs.

Lapping at her like a puppy desperate for water, he’d sent her to another planet.

Fuck going slow, she was already so close. She pressed her palm against her clit and sped up
her hand, as well as the memory, imagining the feel of him when he had finally entered her.
The sea breeze blowing on them, the tantalizing pressure of wondering whether they were
being watched. She had winced at first, closing her eyes as he’d stretched her, before forcing
them open again to stare up into his gray eyes, whisps of blonde hair falling in front of them.

Wait… what?

Her eyes shot open in real life, but simultaneously she felt herself begin to climax.

Bucking her hips and grinding into her own hand, she moaned loudly as her whole body
convulsed with pleasure. It went on for a few more waves than she expected, and her throat
was dry from panting. She finished the deed feeling both satisfied and unsettled all over
again.

Godric damn that Draco Malfoy, he was even infiltrating her tried and true fantasies!

Throwing back the covers in frustration, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and
stepped into her slippers, rising to find her bath robe. Grabbing her wand from the night
table, she cleaned away the wetness from her hand and between her legs and headed out into
her common area.

Grabbing the marauder’s map, she muttered the usual words, located him, and then tossed it
back down and headed for the door. As an afterthought, she flung her wand over her shoulder
and said, “mischief managed,” then exited her dorm.
 oOoOoOo

*Back to Draco, just after he’d left her dorm*

Draco pressed his back desperately against the castle wall, arms splayed out over cold stone,
chest heaving.

What the fuck was that?

He’d had the air knocked from him with her kiss. Why should that be the case? They’d been
snogging like mad for weeks and he’d never been so affected. He’d come to her room to play
games with her mind, not the other way around.

Yet somehow, when she’d pulled him in for that kiss, his entire body had gone into surrender
mode. She’d felt so… open. So different in that moment. He’d felt himself soften and open
up to her for about ten seconds before the warning bells in his mind had gone off. Thank
Merlin.

He pushed off the wall and walked briskly down the corridor, moving vaguely in the
direction of his dorm.

Before he knew it, he found himself stopping outside of a familiar door. He’d never gone
inside Snape’s old office, but merely lingered outside each time. Drank on the floor.
Contemplated the futility of the future…

For whatever reason, he found himself approaching the door. He knew it had been sealed, as
he’d heard some second year Ravenclaws saying they’d tried to get in and had gotten hexed.
Something told him he wouldn’t suffer the same fate, and sure enough, he turned the
doorknob easily and went inside.

The old potion’s master’s room was just as he’d remembered it. Clearly, the room had been
being serviced by the elves even though people wouldn’t be regularly visiting. It was a shrine
to the man.

Draco wondered whether it had been Snape’s wish to have this room preserved. It seemed
more like something a sentimental sap like Dumbledore would have planned.

Then again, Snape had outlived Dumbledore, planned death or no.

“A sickle for your thoughts, Draco?” a sneering voice from behind him said.

His mind processed what was happening very quickly. He would have turned, wand drawn,
had he not known the voice so well. Sure, he’d never thought he’d hear it again, and yet
somehow he had been expecting to.

It was a rough day for logic.

As Draco turned to face the portrait, he couldn’t help a smirk from forming on his face.

“Omniscient as ever, I see,” he said.

Snape raised a brow. “Something like that, though portrait frames do have their limitations. I
only come down here when I need to get away from the chatter of former headmasters.”

Of course. Draco had never considered the fact that there would be a portrait in the Head’s
office, but given that his Godfather had been in the position for a farce of a full school year, it
made complete sense.

When Draco didn’t respond, Snape went on. “What brings you down here, Son?”

He felt a prickle in his eyes like he might cry and blinked it back violently before glaring at
the portrait and giving the man a terse shrug.

Snape rolled his eyes. “I don’t need to perform legilimency to know you’re full of dragon
dung, Draco.”

“Portraits can’t perform spells,” Draco said, almost looking for confirmation of that fact.
Snape raised a brow and cocked his head at that. Double whammy!

“Indeed.”

A long silence stretched between them before Draco spoke again.

“You’re not even real, you’re just a memory!”

“And yet,” Snape said, in his former haughty manner, “here you are spending an evening
with me, so we must conclude that on some level this is, in fact, real.”

Draco scoffed and began pacing the room. His mind was racing. This was fucking stupid. He
was alone (truly alone!) in an abandoned office shrine thingy, talking to paint on canvas like
some lunatic. What was even the point of this? What was the point of anything really?

“You know,” Snape said, and Draco stilled his pacing at the sound of the man’s voice. “You
can deny, drink, and fuck your pain away, Draco, but it will still be there waiting for you
whenever you lose the stamina necessary for total avoidance.”

Draco gaped at him.

“How do you know-”

Snape leisurely examined his nails as he said, “Portraits talk.”

Another thing Draco ought to have realized.

“I have to say, your choice of… intimate partner… had me reeling at first. I couldn’t believe
my painted ears. Had to see it for myself.”
“You spied on me?” Draco growled.

“Indeed. I have to say, I didn’t take you for a broom closet brute.”

“We do it in her room as well.”

“Ah, well then, that certainly makes up for the lack of propriety.”

“You’ve nothing to say about her birth status then?”

Another raised eyebrow. The man should have been painted with it permanently raised.

“You haven’t heard my full story, Draco? How can that be?”

“What story?”

If Draco’s night had already thrown him for a loop, he was about to be sent into orbit around
the Earth.

Snape proceeded to explain the entire tale of Severus Snape and the Unrequited Obsession
with Lily Potter (née Evans). When he’d finished, Draco was pacing silently around the room
for a while.

Eventually, he said, “I always blamed myself.”

Portrait Snape regarded him curiously. “For what exactly?”

Draco looked up at him, staring directly into oil paint eyes. “Your death. If it wasn’t for
me…”

“Do not be ridiculous, Draco. Is that what you’ve been drowning your sorrows in with
firewhiskey and Ms. Granger’s attentions?”

Draco glared at him. “I don’t drown myself in her.”

The eyebrow raising count was going to get cray cray.

“I used to say the same of myself and Lily Evans, you know.”

“It’s different!”

“Is it? How?”

“In basically every way, that’s how.”

“Really? It seems to me you have feelings for a muggle born girl, would do anything to make
her happy…”

“I’m manipulating her for sport, Severus, not making her happy. You have no idea what
you’re talking about!”
“Awfully fiery for a man not in love.”

Draco stilled completely and stared at the portrait before a smile spread across his face.

“I’m not in love with her,” he said with a laugh.

Snape cocked his head. “Fair enough, I suppose it would be too soon for that, but my point
stands that you feel something for the girl.”

“Yea, I feel that she is the most infuriating, stuck up, know-it-all bitch I’ve ever met.”

After a moment of appraising him, Snape said, “Be careful Draco. She’s far more ruthless
than you believe her to be.”

Draco blinked stupidly at this. What was he playing at now?

“I’ve been surviving just fine without your council, thanks. I think I know who I’m dealing
with.”

“Ah yes, and the key word there is… think.” He over-pronounced the last word in that super
Snapey way we all love.

Draco did not love it.

He spun around and stormed from the room as if he’d been in a real conversation with an
actual person. He shook his head, feeling infinitely foolish after being spoken to that way, by
a dead man, no less!

He was so lost in his inner turmoil that he didn’t hear Hermione calling his name until he was
well down the hallway, almost to the Slytherin dorms, by the time he turned to see her
running to catch up to him.

He stopped and watched her slow down to a brisk walk, her cheeks flushed, presumably from
the running. She was in a bath robe and slippers, and for a moment he felt a surge of panic
that something might be terribly wrong before shaking it from himself.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” she hissed.

He raised an eyebrow in a fabulous imitation of the painted man he’d just been interrogated
by.

“If that’s some sort of accusation, Granger, you’re going to need to be more specific. I play at
a lot of things.”

She scrunched up her face and stifled a growl, glancing around the corridor as if trying to
find her words there.

“What was all that… about? That little scene in my room. And what were you doing in
Snape’s office? Were you meeting to someone in there? I heard voices.”
Draco squinted at her, stepping forward slowly. “Since it’s question time, I have one for you.
How did you know I was in there?”

“What?”

“Just now, you were waiting outside for me. I presume you couldn’t get inside?” he said,
glancing down at her right hand. Sure enough, a red burn mark was branded across her palm.
She noticed his gaze and covered her hand.

“Nothing Madame Pomfrey couldn’t fix.”

He had an urge to reach out and take her hand in his. He’d learned a number of healing
charms during the war and could have it fixed in a moment, but he restrained himself.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said instead.

“You didn’t answer any of mine,” she said, raising her chin in that infuriatingly superior way.

“I don’t see why I should.”

“Don’t see why I should either.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

He glared at her. She was nothing to him. Just a good fuck. Snape had no idea what he was
talking about.

She glared back, and he could feel the unbridled hatred cascading out of her eyeballs.

This had been a perfect situation for him, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up by entertaining
some insane accusation of having feelings for the witch.

Suddenly there was a noise from within the Slytherin common room, and Draco instinctively
grabbed Hermione and pulled her around a corner. He heard the door of the common room
open and Slughorn’s voice call out, “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

Grabbing the handle of the nearest door, Draco wrenched it open and shoved Hermione
inside, turning around just as Slughorn came into view and saw him standing there.

“Hello, Professor.”

Slughorn did that stupid bug-eye face he always did, even when things weren’t all that
shocking.

“Why, Mr. Malfoy! What are you doing out of bed at this late hour?”

Draco walked forward in a subtly menacing way that was more reminiscent of Tom Riddle
than even he knew. Cunning, suave, and consequently… hot AF.
 Slughorn bristled at the sight. The man still had nightmares about the young dark lord, and
not the sexy kind. Eww, that would be so weird. That’s not a plunny, do not make that a
plunny, please.

“Apologies, Professor. I couldn’t sleep and needed to take a walk to clear my mind.”

Slughorn’s eyebrows went up again. “Indeed. Well, even still… we have rules, Mr. Malfoy. I
will have to give you a detention.”

Draco withheld a sneer with all his might. What a fucking inconvenience this would be.

He inclined his head at the bumbling professor and made to follow him back to the common
room when Slughorn stopped in his tracks, seeming to notice sound coming from behind the
door where Hermione stood.

“What ever could that be?” he mumbled aloud.

“Peeves, Professor,” Draco said. “I was just chasing him away from the Slytherin common
room when you came out. I daresay he’s waiting behind that door to pour frogspawn on the
first unfortunate soul to cross the threshold.”

“Indeed!” said bug eyes.

And that was that. Draco followed him back to the dorms and went to bed.

The favor was now repaid, detention was on the horizon, and he was resolute in his
conviction to keep his feelings for the witch solely physical.

Hahahahahaha. Ok, dummy.

Chapter End Notes

So who's more smitten? *thinky emoji*

 The Upper Hand Job
Chapter Summary

Ok so it's a blow job, but the title was too good to pass up

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Hermione stood in the broom closet, shell shocked. He'd taken the fall for her. He'd kept her
out of trouble.

Even though... if she'd been caught out by Slughorn, she would have been able to explain it
away with Prefect duties. The sensible thing would have been for Malfoy to hide himself in
the closet.

Now there's a metaphorical image. Hmmm...

Well, he'd done it, and Merlin knew why. She'd have to ponder it later.

Slipping out of the broom closet, she made her way back to her quarters.

As she pushed the door open, she felt a swirl of hope that she'd find Malfoy sitting in that
same seat in her common area.

But alas, friends... alas alas...

Wow it starts to not even feel like a real word, huh?

Alas! He was not there, and Hermione stomped annoyedly to her bedroom, inwardly cursing
her extremely inconvenient hope to share a bed with him that night.

It was just because of the sex, that was all. She could tell herself that on a constant loop if she
had to.

Oh, and she would have to.

oOoOoOoOoOo

The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind, so I'll give you the highlight reel first:
 - Malfoy completed his detention with Slughorn the very next night, and then
proceeded to ignore Hermione resolutely in an attempt to wash the slate clean of any
apparent care he may have shown for the witch.
- Meanwhile, Hermione noted his standoffishness, and rather than press him, she
responded in kind. She was not about to get her heart broken by Malfoy, because wow...
just no.
- They both ate their feelings for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and tea time.
- Their regular romps became non-existent, and it seemed like they'd warped back to a
time when their only interactions had been antagonistic. Even that, however, had
seemed to disappear.
- Their potions partnership had become stoic, at best. All business, with neither of them
mentioning anything other than the essential instructions to one another. Not even any
playful banter!
- And finally... Hermione submitted all of her paperwork and got APPROVED as an
honest to goodness Non-profit, complete with board members and a wealthy benefactor
(more on that soon)

And by soon, I mean now!

*ONE MONTH LATER*

(Yea, a whole month of no sex - stubborn fuckers) (or non-fuckers, in this case)

Hermione stepped into the room, flanked by a house elf who’d been eyeing her with thinly
veiled skepticism ever since she'd arrived on the doorstep of Malfoy Manor.

She'd been there a few weeks prior for their initial meeting, and some of the shock from
being in the place where she'd been tortured had thankfully worn off.

As she crossed the threshold, she felt rather than heard Lucius Malfoy's cold drawl creep up
her spine.

“Ah, Miss Granger. Punctual as ever.”

She turned and saw him seated behind his large mahogany desk.

Compensating much?

The bitter comment floated through her mind for only a moment before she thought better of
it.

If “like father like son” had any validity, then Lucius Malfoy surely did not need to
compensate with large furniture pieces.

But she didn't even wanna go there.

Just yuck.
I mean, he was pretty hot and all, but she'd fucked his son and so thinking of him sexually
was just all kinds of weird.

“Stand there lost in thought much longer, Miss Granger, and I'll be tempted to try my hand at
legillimency.”

She glared at him and he smirked before bringing quill to page once again and muttering,
“just a warning.”

“A barbaric one,” she said, striding into the room with more than just a little indignant huff.

She sat on the edge of the brown leather chair in front of his desk, not intending to stay for
long.

“Your house elves don't trust me,” she said, and Lucius laughed unwittingly.

She stared back at him, mouth agape, never having heard him make such a noise.

He quelled it quickly, but the sound and sight would be forever burned into her mind.

“They’ve heard about your… efforts, and being from an ancient and noble family, are not
particularly interested in freedom, as I am sure you are well aware.”

“Dobby didn’t seem to think so, and he came from your most noble and ancient house.”

A flicker of a sneer crossed his face for the briefest of brief moments.

“Yes, well, I can’t account for lack of sanity in already sub-human creatures.”

Hermione’s blood boiled.

Sure, she knew that she’d accepted money from a man who neither aligned with nor cared for
her cause. She knew that he was only doing it to try and save the face of his family name.

Still, she had (rather stupidly) hoped that he would at least play the part of the reformed
blood purist along the way.

“You know… I can’t say why, but for some reason I believe you’ve warned them about me.
Perhaps told them things that would put them off and make them treat me warily just for
sport?”

He looked up from his parchment now and fixed her with a menacing glare. She did not
break eye contact. The thing about Lucius Malfoy, and his son bore this trait as well, was that
he needed to be out-stood. She therefore matched his abrasive energy as chess move of sorts.

“Do you wish to conduct business this evening, Miss Granger, or would you rather carry out
the entirety of this meeting with accusations on my motivations and character? I can assure
you, I would be quite content to keep my vaults as they are.”

She had him dancing! Excellent.

She knew the money was really nothing to him, that it was an empty threat, but she fell silent
anyway, allowing him to believe he'd affected her.

After her nod of recognition, he stood and came around to the front of the desk, clearing his
throat.

He was now towering over her, which she did not care for in the slightest, but she wouldn’t
let him know that. She remained in her chair, not moving a muscle as she glared up at him.

“I’ve decided to change the terms of my donation.”

When she opened her mouth to protest, he held up a hand and she fell silent again, thinking it
best not to antagonize him again just yet.

“When you came to me a few weeks ago with your proposal, I was intrigued enough to try it
on and see if an alliance between us would do just what you suggested. Raise our family
name in public favor and perhaps end this ridiculous house arrest early… but I’ve had…
different thoughts since then.”

He paused, but she continued to listen, hoping to Merlin he wasn’t canceling the deal.

“I think my previously proposed sum was rather, meager.”

Well that wasn’t what she was expecting! Her eyebrows flew off her face, flying up near the
ancient noble ceiling tiles.

“What do you say we… triple it?”

Her mouth fell open, but no sound was emitted.

“Then, you could not only build a center here in Britain, but expand out to other countries.
The plight of the house elf is particularly worrisome, I believe, in Bulgaria. And you are
acquainted with Mr. Krum, he could be a source of support… but I’m getting ahead of
myself.”

Her mind was doing cartwheels with this new proposal. She hadn’t even begun to think about
expansion of that sort. Well sure, it had been in the back of her mind, but she’d been so
focused on Britain that it had only been a vague inclination.

“Though it does bear mentioning that I’ve already reached out to contacts in a few other
locations who might be interested in supporting the cause… including the Australian
Ministry.”

Her heart stopped. She could have been proclaimed legally dead.

Surely, Lucius Malfoy was not somehow aware of her parent’s plight?

Suddenly assured and resolute in her intentions, she said, “what do you want?”
A small smirk and tilt of his head, and she couldn’t have hated him more in that moment. He
was closing in on checkmate and she could feel it.

“Redemption, Miss Granger. Not the promise of it, but the assurance. The Malfoy name has
been desecrated. It is not enough to align myself to your cause with gold, in hopes of getting
my house arrest ended. Though, I will say you were smart to come to me with the idea.
Clever as you may be, however, you were not thinking big enough.”

“What do you-“

“You will marry into our family. A complete and total public alliance. Our reformation will
be undeniable.”

Well, fuck.

She could no longer feel her legs, as Draco’ face swam into her mind and anger began to
build inside of her.

“The trouble is,” he went on as if he hadn't just said the most ludicrous thing imaginable. “I
will be hard pressed to get Draco to agree to this. You'll need to do some... preparation…
before I tell him.”

“I... what?” she said, dumbstruck. His voice sounded to her like it was coming from the other
side of a glass pane.

“I want you to become friends with Draco. Get close to him, I can give you a few ideas how.
Then, once he's more likely to be amenable to the idea, I will tell him he is required to marry
you, and he will agree.”

Hermione swallowed hard and attempted to parse through the words he'd said.

She needed to get Draco to like her, but that was the game she'd been playing already. She'd
done well at it, perhaps too well, and had been countering his freeze-out with her own.

She wouldn't tell Lucius Malfoy any of this, of course, it was none of his beeswax.

But she couldn't quite wrap her head around his request based on what she already knew to
be true.

Finally, she muttered, “I... I can't-”

“You will, or the deal is off. I've decided that merely aligning with the cause is not enough.
Our partnership on your project will begin after your public announcement of marriage in,
let’s say, three month's time?”

“Three months?! So we won't be able to move forward for three whole months?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Does this mean you accept my terms?”

She gulped audibly, staring back at him with fury but feeling her resolve dissipate slightly.
She'd have to go back in and get a bit vulnerable with him... and she would have to risk being
humiliated.

Would it be worth it?

Dreamily, she imagined her SPEW centers in other countries... Krum on the cover of the
prophet giving a speech.... an Australian outpost, and perhaps the chance that Lucius Malfoy
knew how to restore their memories. She didn't know that but for sure, but the way he'd
dangled Australia over her...

There was nothing for it, she'd have to break the silence between her and Draco.

Getting Draco to fall in love with her was no longer a side-quest, it was the entire game.

“Yes I accept your terms. Now will you tell me your ideas? I need to get back to school soon
to study, so I'd appreciate it if you made it quick.”

“Very well, Miss Granger,” he said, extending a hand towards her. She took it, squeezing with
a respectable amount of pressure.

“Let's discuss my son’s weaknesses.”

oOoOoOoOo!

Draco was in the library when he heard it, a voice from nowhere, or perhaps right next to
him.

Before he could register where it had come from, there was hot breath on his ear and the
words “restricted section” being whispered into it.

The vanilla and cherry scent he’d come to associate with her wafted over him and he rose
from his chair without thought. Two parts of him began warring. The part that was a stubborn
arsehole and would refuse to get involved again with Granger, given the apparent weaknesses
she'd uncovered in him.

The other part was his prick, and it missed Hermione’s quim with all the passion a prick
could muster.

Do we like cocks and cunts better?

I think I do.

Ah well, at least it added some variety.

As he strode to the restricted section, he recognized that this was probably a mistake, and yet
his feet carried him on. He affected a grim countenance and crossed his arms in challenge
when she finally appeared in front of him.

“Hi,” she said.

He made no reply, just stared.

“I wanted to apologize,” she said, and it caught him off guard. He furrowed his brow and she
went on.

“I’ve been acting childishly. You covered for me with Slughorn and I've been ignoring you
since.”

Draco blinked stupidly. Where was this coming from? He had been the one ignoring her, he
was sure of it.

“You've been ignoring ME, Granger?”

“Yes, because... well, I if I'm being completely honest-“

She stopped speaking as if he’d cut her off, but she’d really cut herself off, seeming to steel
herself before going on.

“I had noticed that I was… beginning to feel things... and... I didn't want to risk being hurt.”

He didn't dare move. This was everything he’d been wanting.

He had her cornered now, even though she’d been the one to lure him there. Surveying her
carefully, he sensed his moment to strike.

“And yet you're here now,” he said.

“I am.”

“Why?”

She let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Please don't make me say it.”

Taking two steps toward her, he intoned, “oh you'll say it. I need to hear you say it.”

Removing her hand from her face and looking up at him she said, “I miss you.”

This sent a shockwave through his body. He brushed it away as sexual arousal and smirked at
her.

“What exactly do you miss about me, Granger?”

They were inches apart now, and he could feel his body vibrating in anticipation.

He wouldn’t have said he missed her, exactly, but he was certainly sick of his own hand by
that point.
“I miss,” she said, and then let her eyelids flutter closed, her chest rising and falling slowly
with a deep inhale of breath. His eye was drawn to her chest. One of the buttons of her white
school shirt was undone, and he couldn’t tell if she’d left it that way intentionally.

“I miss… your hands gripping my arse while you fuck me.”

His heart rate began to increase and she moved closer, tracing her hand up her side to her
neck.

“Your tongue caressing this spot behind my ear.”

She moved closer still. He would not be the first to make contact.

“Your hard cock sliding easily down my throat,” she said, now staring directly into his eyes.

Before he knew it, she had unzipped his trousers and had his cock in her hand. Even more
suddenly, she was on her knees before him and was working him deeper and deeper into her
mouth. He let out an involuntary moan and leaned back against the stacks behind him.

She reached for his hand and placed it on the back of her head, indicating that he should be in
control. It was quite a rare occurrence, but he wasn’t going to question it. Wasting no time, he
began thrusting roughly into her.

So she thought she could ignore him, did she? Well, clearly not. He’d give it to her good for
ever thinking she’d ever had the upper hand. Her gag reflex inhibitor charm was in full effect
and it was glorious. He pounded into her as she moaned with approval.

Eventually he pulled out, holding her head back so that he could look down at her perfect,
pouty lips. Running his thumb roughly over them and then inserting it experimentally he said,
“You love sucking my cock, don’t you Granger?” She sucked his thumb and dragged her
teeth along it as he pulled out, with a breathy “yes.”

Without warning he pushed back inside her mouth and she took it like a champ, allowing him
to take complete control. Dimly, he realized she had cast silencing charms around them,
because the sounds from the rest of the library were muffled. He therefore allowed himself to
speak at full volume.

“Oh fuck…. yes, take it . Take it right down your throat.”

She moaned again in ecstasy and dug her fingernails into his thighs where she was steadying
herself. He tightened his grip in her hair and slowed his thrusts, endeavoring to push a bit
deeper with each one.

She let out slow, scintillating hums as he did so, and the vibration from her voice sent shivers
up his spine. It did him in, he came hard right down her throat and she was ready to receive
it.

He was actually impressed by how little she flinched and almost wondered if she had any
other sex spells in play that he didn’t know about, but his mind couldn’t latch onto the
 curiosity for long. The satisfaction and contentment coursing through his system superseded
any rational thought.

“Fuck, Granger…. I missed you too… specifically your mouth.”

Then, like magic, he was all cleaned up and she was standing before him.

“I’ll bet there are other parts of me you’d like to be reacquainted with. Come by tonight, I’ll
be waiting.”

And just like that, she was gone. She didn’t expect him to reciprocate?

Well, she shouldn’t, considering she had been issuing an apology to him and not the other
way around.

Yes, Draco felt quite entitled to his fantastic restricted section blowjob. He went back to his
table to finish studying, looking forward to what she might have in store for him later that
evening.

It felt wonderful to be back to truly having the upper hand.

Just a great feeling.

Yep, really really great :D

Chapter End Notes

Laugh with me in the comments

 Shrug Emoticon
Chapter Summary

Time to introduce some new characters up into this piece!

They're probably only plot devices, but then everyone is getting used in this story...

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

He was licking her asshole.

Arsehole?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

She could not believe the sensation it was driving through her.

A month of some of their most adventurous exploits yet, and they had only gotten to this
now? She wanted to theorize as to why, but the pleasure he was giving her was far too
distracting. His tongue moved around in confident circles, and when he moved it to the center
and trust it inside, she howled in ecstasy. Then, she felt his fingers slide into her, and curve in
just the right way to make her entire body shudder.

No pressure on her clit whatsoever and she was absolutely coming.

She bucked her hips involuntarily, as she tried desperately to stay still so that she wouldn’t
lose the contact of his tongue nor his fingers inside of her. Plus, it was a public bathroom and
anyone could walk in at any moment.

In truth, she had put a repelling charm on the door, but Malfoy did not need to know that.

Having secrets from him had made everything more intense for her.

True to form, she felt her orgasm explode through her as he made one particularly deep thrust
of his tongue.

On all fours in the shower stall, she cried, “Oh fuck, Malfoy, yes!”

“Call me Draco,” he breathed.

“What?!”

She certainly would be doing nothing of the fucking sort.

“Draco. Say it. Now.”

She realized he had his hand around his own prick and was finishing himself off.

She should just say it. Just acquiesce. Everything in her said not to, but she needed to keep
him happy.

She tried to say it, but something caught in her throat and for once it wasn't his seed.

Pushing past her own resistance was one of her strong suits, and she summoned up all of her
stubborn resolve for this moment.

“D... Draco...” she said in almost a whisper, and heard him choke instantly. His hot cum
sprayed all over her back as he cried, “ugh... Hermione.”

He groaned her name a few more times, and it brought her back to the memory in the library.

You're my fantasy, Hermione.

He'd used her given name then too, and it'd confused her.

What she felt now was far more than confusion.

She stood and they began to wash off, when suddenly she felt something soft cross her back.

A sponge.

He was fucking washing her?!

A few soapy strokes, and then he was leaning into her, peppering kisses across her shoulder.

She winced at the feel of his lips there.

“Hey... what is it?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him and forced a smile. “N- nothing. I do need to get back
to my room, though.”

He began washing his manly bits as he said, “why’s that? Hot date in Hogsmeade to get ready
for?”

She laughed nervously. “Not quite.”

Indeed, she had no hot dates; her life was already confusing enough. She DID need to go into
Hogsmeade that afternoon, however, as she was in need of a new quill and ink set.

They finished washing and dressed in silence, which was not out of the ordinary.

As she turned to leave, however, he grabbed her wrist and spun her around with a playful,
“oh no you don't.”
Then he pulled her lips to his as his fingers curled into her hair, and kissed her so sweetly that
it should have been accompanied from some 90’s prime Mariah Carey shit. (That's basically
current Ari for you youngs)

When they separated, he caressed her cheek with his thumb and smiled at her in a way that
made her knees wobble.

She needed to go ask someone to actually smack her in the face, because this was getting
next level fucked up.

She played along to the best of her abilities before bolting from the bathroom, remembering
to release her repelling charm as she did so, and headed to her private quarters to wash away
the weirdly intimate shower they'd just shared.

oOoOoOoOo

After she had re-showered and dressed, she opened the Marauder’s map and ensured that
Malfoy was somewhere in the castle before she left.

In the Slytherin dungeons. Perfect. He probably planned to wile away the day reading or
something.

Nerd.

Yes, she caught the irony!

Or flat out hypocritical nonsense.

Anyway, she was glad he was staying in.

The last thing she wanted was to run into him in Hogsmeade and give him cause to demand
public sex. Sure, it was something she wanted to do (outside of the broom closets of
Hogwarts) but she needed to get her head on straight first.

What better way to do so then to buy school supplies and perhaps take a swing around
Flourish and Blott’s for a new novel?

Quill purchasing went off without a hitch. She even got a deal! Some were quills on
clearance that happened to suit her extremely well. Feeling accomplished in a way that only a
good sale could, she trotted merrily down the lane in Hogsmeade before the sight of two
wizards about ten feet away (someone please translate this into metric in the comments,
thanks) took her breath away.

Her jaw hit cobblestone as Harry Potter and Ron Weasley strode towards her, both wearing
identical auror robes and smug smirks to rival Lucius Malfoy’s.

She hadn't heard from them since they'd refused to be on the board of SPEW, and annoyance
flared in her chest at the sight of them.
What were they doing there?! They weren't even supposed to be a major part of this story!
Where would they even fit in???

She really hoped that she and Ron wouldn't become a “thing” again, in any way. But she was
getting ahead of herself.

They approached, and suddenly The Golden Trio™ we're gathered in the middle of the street
in Hogsmeade. She glanced around and noticed that no one ...had noticed.

Following her gaze, Harry said, “Notice-me-not charm.”

Of course. She'd read about those somewhere. In the last novel she read? Or perhaps it had
been fan fiction.

She hadn't realized they were a thing, and filed it away in her mind as something to look into.

“Brilliant. I bet that comes in handy.”

“It does for sure, we do get recognized nearly everywhere we go. It can severely interfere
with our work, as I'm sure you can imagine,” Ron said in a weirdly cocky manner.

Was he flexing? About his popularity? When SHE was just as popular, if not more so?

She found herself clenching her teeth, and turned her gaze to Harry.

“What brings you here?”

He raised a brow in reply, as if to say, “really?”

Hermione tilted her head, as if to ask, “what?”

Ron crossed his arms and pursed his lips, as if to say, “come now, you know why we’re
here.”

Hermione shook her head slightly and raised both brows, as if to say, “honestly I really don't
get it, so if you two are quite finished with the fucking inferred communication and would
care to say something, anything distinct, I'm quite ready to hear it!”

Suddenly, Harry turned to Ron and said, “Hog’s head?”

Ron nodded and they turned, motioning for her to follow.

She wanted to argue, but suspected that the charm would break if she didn't keep in close
vicinity to them, and she really didn't want to endure a Golden Trio meet and greet in the
street, despite how cute it sounded.

Quickening her pace, she caught up to them without argument and they reached the Hog’s
Head, taking the back door up to Aberforth’s private quarters.

“You can just make yourself at home here any time you want, then?”
Harry merely laughed, clearly not feeling that he needed to offer an actual reply.

What ever happened to her humble friend?

Fame could turn even the best people into assholes.

(I'm not even gonna say it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

Once they reached the upstairs sitting room and she'd refused to partake in the Firewhisky
they were both enjoying, Harry turned a severe gaze on her.

“What are you plotting with Lucius Malfoy?”

If she had had a drink she'd have choked on it.

“Excuse me?”

“You've been to Malfoy Manor,” Ron said.

“Multiple times in the last month,” Harry added.

“Are you following me?”

They both laughed. She grimaced, staring back and forth between them.

She had felt alone, and she had felt like an “other” where they were concerned, but this
experience was solidifying the feeling for her in a big way. They were in lock step. May as
well be the same person.

“Hermione,” Harry said, in a rather condescending tone. “Lucius Malfoy is under house
arrest. All of his movements are catalogued, all of his visitors monitored. Did you really think
we wouldn't catch wind of it?”

Her blood boiled at being spoken to this way, and she felt her hand clench around her wand.

“And do you also have transcripts of our conversations?!”

Ron laughed. “If we did then we wouldn't have had to come all the way here would we?”

She snapped her head to glare at him. “Oh that's right, you had to come all the way here. Poor
you. Did you walk, then?”

Ron and Harry both grimaced, but did not recoil. “What's gotten into you, Hermione?” Harry
asked, the note of concern that would normally have been there once was suspiciously absent.

“Yea,” Ron said. “Why are you so protective? Something you don't want us to know about
your visits with Mr. Malfoy?” He raised one brow as he said the last name, and Hermione
found that she did not care one bit for the suggestiveness in his tone of voice.
“Oh no you don't, Ronald Weasley. I will not allow you to turn this around on me. I am
perfectly entitled to my privacy without having accusations of untoward behavior being flung
my way!”

“Untoward... what?” Ron said stupidly.

“Oh don't play dumb. You were just acting all... all-knowing. Pick a side!”

Ron turned to Harry, an incredulous look on his face. “I was just suggesting that she might be
shagging him, is that still what we’re talking about?”

“Yes, yes it is,” Harry intoned.

Hermione stood. “I'm leaving,” she said as she strode over to the door. Pulling it open, she
turned back to face them and shouted, “before I happen to kick both of you right in the
teeth!”

She descended the stairs to the main area of the bar and they gave chase, calling after her.

Spinning around to face them, she shouted, “and no, I am not shagging Lucius Malfoy!”

She grabbed the door handle and flung herself unceremoniously out the side door, nearly
stumbling into the alley. Turning on the spot, she apparated herself as close as she possibly
could to the Hogwarts grounds.

Her new novel would have to wait, she had some good old fashioned brooding to do.

oOoOoOoOo

After Granger had left the bathroom, Draco wondered at why she seemed so skittish. He
decided that she must be fighting her feelings for him, and smirked to himself as he got
dressed.

Their relationship had certainly shifted in recent weeks. For a while there it seemed as though
things would simply end, but after she cornered him in the library, things had shifted
considerably. She was agreeable, adventurous, and always out to please him.

It was kinda fucked up, but the way she acquiesced to whatever he wanted reminded him of
his mother.

He wasn't conscious of this at all, because YUCK. But... in the end, we all marry our parents.
We want comfort. We want familiarity. We don't actually want to fuck our parents.

Ok this is gonna take a weird turn if we don't move on, so let's!

Anyway, he really started to feel as though she could be the one for him. Sure, their
relationship had only been an arrangement of convenience thus far, but she had admitted to
having feelings. She had. And he hadn't said it to her himself, but he'd thought back on the
conversation with Severus and thought that perhaps the old man had been right. Perhaps they
could parlay their fuck-buddy non-relationship into something real.

He had these insatiable urges to pamper her. To spoil her. To publicly declare her his.

Yep, he was in deep and you know what? He really didn't care who knew.

She made him happy. Well, she made his prick happy. His own internal joy was something
like an aftershock of all the fucking.

After stopping back at his dorm to finish getting ready for the day, he stepped out into the
stone corridor and decided to visit Hogsmeade. Maybe he'd run into Granger and they could
try out that truly public sex thing they'd talked about.

The door on the left caught his eye, however, and he decided first to stop in and see his
Godfather. It would be painful to admit that he'd fallen for Granger, but perhaps he could get
some God-fatherly advice on what to do next.

When he entered the room, he was saddened to see that the frame was empty. He closed the
door behind him anyway and approached the frame.

Within seconds, the man slithered into the frame, his gaze instantly fixed upon Draco who
raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Did I summon you somehow?”

Looking down his pointed nose, Snape said, “we portraits have a way of knowing when our
frames our being looked upon in our absence. What brings you here on this fine Saturday,
Draco?”

Draco shifted where he stood. He wanted advice, in theory, but faced with the actual prospect
of being honest, he found he was a bit tongue tied.

“You want advice about Miss Granger.”

Draco stared up at the man, incredulous. He wasn't sure whether to be angry or grateful.

“How did you-”

Snape shrugged. “I've been expecting you back for some time now.”

Draco nodded in response, looking away uncomfortably.

“Yes well,” he said, “I supppose I came here to say... that is.... you were right, the last time
we spoke.”

Snape raised a brown and nodded his head gravely.

“Indeed. So, you find that you do have feelings for our muggle born witch, is that right?”
“Yes, alright?”

Merlin, it was embarrassing enough to say it once. Okay, he supposed he did care who knew
how he felt.

“Well then, Draco, I'm afraid what I need to say is a word of caution.”

Draco looked up, mouth agape.

“Yes, I imagine this will come as a surprised, though I did allude to it last we spoke. Miss
Granger is clever and calculating as they come and I dare say she has you caught.”

Draco’s ears grew hot and he was sure they were red. “What do you mean?” he said through
gritted teeth.

“I will not expand upon the pronouncement any further, Draco. I would merely advise you to
proceed with caution.”

Glaring at the man made of paint, Draco narrowed his eyes and took deep, calming breaths.

“Goodness, boy, do you really think you can read my mind? I am but paint and memory.”

Draco cursed under his breath and began pacing the room.

“Well what good are you to me if you can't tell me WHY you're making these grand
pronouncements and warnings?”

“I am a vital asset to you, Draco. I always have been, even if you were too stubborn to accept
my help. Do not make the same mistakes a sixteen year old lost boy once did.”

“A lost boy! And who are you, Peter Pan?!”

Snape recoiled, his brow the Arc du Triumph!

“You've started reading muggle books as well. My my my, we are in far greater trouble than I
first feared.”

oOoOoOoOo

Draco trudged into Hogsmeade determined to clear his head. He wouldn't look for Granger. I
mean, if he ran into her, then fine, great, wonderful. He would not look for her, though, and
would instead go for a drink. Some of the Slytherins had mentioned grabbing one at The
Three Broomsticks, and after the conversation he’d just had, he was quite in need.

He entered the pub and it did not take long for him to spot Blaise and Theo, as the rest of the
patrons were giving them a wide berth.

Perfect.
Privacy via anti-purebloodism mixed with homophobia, what a delicious cocktail.

As he approached, they were talking quietly with their heads together, but looked up quickly
at the scraping of Draco’s chair across the damp wood floor.

“Enough pillow talk, you have company.”

They both grinned up at him, but Blaise spoke.

“We were just discussing next steps for our little project with your girlfriend.”

“She's not my girlfriend,” Draco growled, but they both just looked amused.

“She's not your girlfriend and I'm not into blokes,” said Theo.

“Hey!” said Blaise.

Theo rolled his eyes. “Sorry... I'm not into Blaise specifically, other blokes have nothing to do
with it.”

“Better,” Blaise said with a curt nod, but followed it with a wink.

“Well aren't you two just precious?”

“Not as precious as you and Granger. Have the media gotten wind of it yet? It would be
excellent publicity for SPEW,” said Theo.

“That's right!” said Blaise, pointing a proud finger into the air. “The Prophet would be all ‘oh
the Death Eater and the Golden Girl! What a scandal!’ but then find some way to spin it if
Granger paid them enough.”

“Granger doesn't have the gold to pay off the Prophet,” Draco snapped.

Theo shrugged. “She's getting gold from somewhere; the plan is to open a center here in
Britain, and expand out to France and Bulgaria. There was even mention of Australia.”

With a furrowed brow, Draco said, “interesting.”

He wondered how much her order of Merlin had garnered her. It couldn't have been that
much. Perhaps Potter was supporting her. Draco had always heard that his parents had left
him a small fortune. Merlin knew Weasley couldn't spare it.

He wondered then about her parents. They were healers of some sort, and from the muggle
literature he'd read, healers seemed to be extremely respected and well paid. It could be that
she had money from them.

If she was actually muggle-rich, though, why hadn't she done anything about her hair and
clothing sooner? She'd always been so mousy in their younger years. Perhaps her mother was
rich but mousy? Maybe being well groomed didn't matter as much in the muggle world?
Then again, a dozen examples to the contrary went through his mind. Maybe Granger was
more of an Elizabeth Bennett type; not adhering to social norms and carving her own path,
that is, until she married the richest man around.

Perhaps their story could play out in much the same way. Two people, against all odds,
connecting soul to soul.

Only, really, it was nothing like that story at all... or was it?

“Draco, are you alright? You've been staring into oblivion for a few minutes now.”

Draco shook himself.

Back to life. Back to reality.

He would finish his essay on comparing and contrasting his relationship with Granger, with
that of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy at another time.

“I'm fine, just... thinking about Granger.”

They both grinned broadly, and so he amended, “about how she's affording all of this!”

“Right.”

“Sure.”

“To Malfoy and Granger!” Blaise said, raising his glass.

“Soon to be the second most controversial couple in Wizarding Britain!”

“Cheers!” they said in unison as their glasses clinked together.

Draco looked away and mumbled, “I need to start drinking.”

oOoOoOoOo

Eventually, they made their way out of the Three Broomsticks, all three wizards having
grown tired of the stares and glares from other patrons, and went instead to the Hog’s Head.
It was significantly less civilized, but tended to attract a crowd they would blend into.

About five minutes after they'd settled in with a drink, Draco’s ear caught on a familiar voice
descending from the back stairway.

“before I happen to kick both of you right in the teeth!”

And then she was there, rounding on whoever was up the staircase from her, to shout, “and
no, I am not shagging Lucius Malfoy!”

She.
 Wasn't what?

Then she was gone, and he saw Pott-Head and the Weasel run out the side door after her,
shouting her given name just as he had only a few hours earlier.

Chapter End Notes

¯\_(ツ)_/¯
 An Imminent Proposal
Chapter Summary

wtf is gonna happen now, y’all?! Read on, read on!!!

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Hermione was livid. That entire scene with Harry and Ron had pissed her right the fuck off,
and frankly, I’m glad she’s just a character in my story because I feel like she wants to kick
my ass for writing it.

Stay on the page, witch! I’m just a muggle!

She went back to her quarters to stew stew stew, without really cooking up any sort of plan
for what to do next. She had what now seemed like two ex-best friends, and a weirdly clingy
Draco Malfoy in her life, who it was her job to entrap in a loveless marriage.

As she stopped to consider it all, she supposed that she HAD set out to make this year more
interesting, and by Fred and George, she’d done it! (RIP the former)

A tapping sound at her window interrupted her simmering thoughts, and she went quickly to
retrieve it, realizing instantly that it had come from the manor. Lucius’s bird was a pain in the
arse, but she threw him a treat nonetheless, given his long journey and her insatiable need to
care for all creatures.

“You’re in the arms of the angels, hope you find some comfort here!” she called as he flew
away, the bird clearly not having been instructed to wait for a reply.

She unfurled the small scroll and read.

--

Miss Granger,

Plans will need to be accelerated, so I do hope you have succeeded thus far in your efforts
with Draco. Some startling news has been brought to my attention.

Apparently, your very own Mr. Potter has been paying particular attention to my guest log
here at Malfoy Manor ™, and it has become common knowledge that you are making regular
visits. If he has not already, expect him to confront you on this.
Furthermore, rumors are now spreading of some sort of liaison between you and I, and these
must be squashed forthwith. I cannot be the one to demand this match between you and
Draco, it needs to come from you alone.

You will stage the public proposal with Draco within the next week, the sooner the better.

I will leave it up to your discretion whether you need another week before you suggest it to
him, though if you have been following my advice, I daresay he has fallen already.

Do not send a return owl, I would like to keep our communication at a minimum after this
writing.

Salazar’s Speed, Miss Granger.

-Lucius Malfoy

“Holy fuck,” she breathed, as the note fell from her hands and landed on the stone floor with
a quiet whoosh.

Like a zombie, she walked into her bathroom and started the shower. Perhaps the hot water
would help her think of what to do. Well, that and getting herself off with the magical
detachable shower head. Even if it would have to be Draco’s face she pictured, she knew she
could get in a few good orgasms before she had to deal with the real world.

oOoOoOoOo

Draco returned to the castle with haste, closely followed by his two friends who were
bludgeoning him with questions the entire way. He would have aparated, but didn’t want to
risk splinching given that he was so unfocused.

“I had no idea Granger was into older men; I thought she fancied you!”

“She does,” he said, "didn’t you hear her? She said she is NOT shagging my father.”

“Oh yes,” Blaise said sarcastically. “And usually when I have to shout my denial in a
crowded pub is when I am resolutely telling the truth.”

Draco growled to himself, continuing to stomp towards the castle and wishing he could be
alone. They mostly bickered between themselves all the way back, though, so he was left
with his thoughts.

He had wanted to catch up to Granger, but she’d been nowhere in sight. She’d apparated, so
she couldn’t have been too rattled. Unless, like with so many other things, she was just better
at aparating than he was.
No, had to be the other reason. She wasn’t rattled. Which meant… that she WAS shagging his
father? Or that she wasn’t?

Blast it all, he had to talk to her.

He made his way back into the castle, still flanked by his gay bffs who were refusing to give
up their front row seats to the Malfoy Granger reality show. But what could the title of the
show be?

Dramione Unleashed! No, untethered. That’s my first thought title suggestion, put yours in
the comments, thx.

When he reached her private quarters, he gave the password without thinking and walked in.

She was nowhere in sight, but he thought he heard the shower running. He stepped in to the
familiar, sunlight living room, Blaise and Theo following in his wake.

“Damn, this is nice! Why hasn’t Granger invited us here for our meetings about house elf
liberation?”

“Probably because she doesn’t want to give you two ideas about sneaking in and having
super gay sex everywhere.”

“What makes it super?” asked Theo.

“You don’t think it’s super?” said Blaise.

“No of course I do! I just meant-”

“Hey, will you two keep it down? And get out of here, she’s clearly indisposed.”

Blaise and Theo stilled, staring at Draco with mischievous looks on their faces.

“What?” Draco said.

“Nothing” they said in unison.

“It’s just…” Theo said, glancing at Blaise. “We’ve um, talked about a… well, a bit of a
shared fantasy of ours, is all.”

“Theo, I hardly think this is the time-“

“Oh and when WOULD be the time?”

“What are you two on about?” Draco asked, annoyed.

“We want to watch,” they said, again, in unison.

“You what?” Draco shouted.

“Shhh!” “Keep it down!” they said, glancing over to her bedroom.

“You two want to watch me and Granger fuck?”

“Yes that’s right.” “Correct.”

“But… you’re gay.”

“Yes,” said Blaise, laughing. “You keep needing to mention that.”

“Sexuality is a spectrum, Malfoy. Taste the rainbow,” Theo said with a wink.

“We both like to watch,” Blaise said, “and we aren't fussed about the pairings, except there's
something about you with Granger that is especially intriguing and neither of us even know
why.”

“Probably your abandonment issues,” Draco said without missing a beat, and they both
blinked.

“Excuse me?” they said, again, in unison.

“You heard me. Someone disappointed you when you were young. They were supposed to be
there, but they weren't. Probably both your Dads. Then, you see this pairing of a bully and the
girl he used to bully, but instead of hating one another they have sex, and something about it
feels like it's healing your wound, but it's more like Firewhisky. Just numbing it out for a
small period of time, until you need another shot.”

They both stood before him, mouths agape, unable to say a word.

Finally, Theo said, “well, FUCK.”

There was a lot of that happening in this room on this particular day.

“Well alright then. I assume that puts to rest this bizarre request to watch Granger and I tear
one another apart?”

“Oh no,” Blaise said. “We still really want to see that,” Theo finished.

Draco was about to respond, but something caught his eye. There was a letter on the ground
in the middle of the otherwise meticulously clean room. He walked over and bent to retrieve
it, feeling his stomach turn as soon as he recognized the handwriting in the letter.

His father.

He read and re-read the note over and over, dimly aware of Blaise and Theo chattering to one
another about the variety of books on the shelves, and sexual positions available using
couches and armchairs.

She was not shagging his father. That was clear.

She was, however, fucking Draco royally.

In slow motion, the past few weeks played back through his mind. She’d been extraordinarily
accommodating, ever since their month long break and their reconciliation in the library. Her
penance, really.

But she hadn’t been penitent at all, she had been playing him.

And all for a marriage proposal? Orchestrated by his father?

Anger rose within him, and he felt the acute sense of embarrassment over how he’d let
himself fall for her. Not just for her trick, but for her. And he’d actually fallen. It was a
testament to how real his feelings were that his anger had already mostly abated.

In truth, it kind of made him want her more. Just the fact that she’d outsmarted him made him
want to fuck her brains out against a wall… but also he wanted to hurt her. Just a little bit.

But why had his father agreed to this? He thought for a long moment about what could have
possibly possessed his father to…

Then it clicked.

Lucius had written to him at the start of the year, encouraging him to befriend those he had
previously been enemies with as a way of bolstering trust in their family name. He’d burned
every letter, uninterested in his father’s plans. He’d have rather shriveled up and rotted then
try to get the greater wizarding world to accept him. His father, however, had been obsessed.

Of COURSE he would have jumped at the chance to help The Golden Girl herself.

And now she was working with him. Had this been her design all along?

She’d been tasked with getting Draco to agree to marry her within the next week.

Well, that was interesting. Yes, very interesting news.

He placed the letter back down onto the floor where he’d found it and turned to his friends,
who stopped talking as if it had been choreographed.

“Alright, I can make it happen,” he said, and their eyes lit up. “Just, not today. I need you two
to leave so I can be alone with her. You know, convince her of the idea. But when I do, I need
something from you both in return.”

Blaise pointed to Theo. “He’s the best with rim jobs, I’m crap at it. Pun-tended.”

“What?! I am not. You’re spectacular!”

Blaise grinned. “Thanks, I know. I just wanted to hear you say that,” he said, turning back to
Draco. “I’ll lick your arsehole, Malfoy, just say the word.”

Draco grimaced. “No! That’s not what I want. I need something in regards to the house elf
charity. It might involve you abruptly pulling out when I say so.”
“Oh so we’re talking about pearl necklaces?”

“Pulling out of the charity board!”

They both shrugged. “Sure.” “Whatever you need.”

Then they turned to one another, and throwing their arms in the air in identical motions, said,
“We get to watch Dramione fuck!”

The water turned off with a distant squeak, and they all turned their heads.

“Out. Now, you two!” Draco whisper-shouted.

Blaise and Theo moved toward the exit, mouthing a whole bunch of stuff that was absolutely
impossible to understand, but then, characters in fan fiction often mouth impossible sentences
and yet the other characters in the scene magically understand them every time (because,
magic) so Draco caught ALL of it, and knew exactly when they would be meeting up again
to discuss the plan, as well as what Theo and Blaise were planning to do for dinner, and their
guesses on whether Granger would emerge nude or robed from her shower.

And then they were gone.

Her door opened.

The answer, was nude.

oOoOoOoOo

Hermione stepped into her living room with the intention of retrieving the bathrobe she’d left
on the couch the night before, but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Malfoy standing
before her looking livid.

Or was he? He had a burning look in his eye that could mean anything from anger to sexual
frustration.

They’d just fucked that morning, though. How frustrated could he be?

Then again, she’d just gotten herself off three times, so perhaps it made perfect sense.

“Malfoy, what are you doing here?”

His expression softened and he smiled. “You know, I think I would like for you to call me
Draco from now on.” Then, he strode towards her, and she could not believe that she felt her
cunt begin to throb anew. “Not just when I have my tongue up your arse.”

He was kissing her, and it was so similar to what she’d just been fantasizing about that she
lost her breath as he swept her into his arms. Their tongues slid over one another, both of
them releasing subtle moans at the contact.
Gods, she loved the taste of him. If she was going to be in a forced marriage with anyone, she
could do a lot worse, she thought.

In fact, it could be rather fun to be married to him. They could have their own wing of the
manor. Fuck all over the place. Free his elves and give them paid vacation.

Ugh, her cunt was dripping at the thought, and as if on cue, he unzipped his trousers, grabbed
up one of her legs, and thrust into her, pinning her against the wall. His cock slid in, pressing
tightly against her fluttering walls, and she clenched down on him. Kegel practice was really
paying off.

“Say it,” he growled.

“Draco,” she said.

“Scream it.”

“Draco!”

“Again.”

“DRACO! Oh, oh, fuck, I’m coming already!”

“Oh fuck, Hermione,” he growled. “I could fuck you like this every day for the rest of my
life.”

She was mid climax, and there was no stopping it once it started, but her brain wanted it to
stop so she could take in what he’d said.

“What?!” she shouted, just as her orgasm crested, so it came out all squeaky and funny.

Still pounding into her relentlessly, clearly chasing his own release, he said, “You heard me,
witch.”

She supposed she had, though she could hardly believe it. Could it really be this easy?

“Marry me, then,” she said with bold conviction.

That seemed to send him right over the edge, because he thrust hard, and ground against her,
pressing her into the wall a bit harder than was comfortable. It hurt a little bit.

His hot cum poured into her, and she felt herself throb, receiving it fully.

If it weren’t for contraceptive spells, she could have had like ten babies by now.

Panting, but smiling, he leaned back to look at her without pulling out.

“Oh no you don’t. You think I’m going to let you be the one to propose?” he said.

The grin on his face was so genuine, and she felt her heart skip in her chest. Was this real? He
really wanted to marry her?
 She did not know how to feel about this. On the one hand, yay! Problem solved. On the
other…

Draco Malfoy genuinely, truly, and of his own volition, wanted to marry her?

Well, of his own volition… sort of. She had been emotionally manipulating the fuck out of
him for weeks, but then again… her own emotions felt rather twisted in that moment.

“I suppose not,” she said with a simpering smile.

He grabbed his wand and cast cleaning charms where necessary, and then ran a hand through
his hair before leaning in to kiss her sweetly on the lips.

“You’ll have to wait, then.”

She supposed she would… but hopefully not more than a week?

Chapter End Notes

You’ll wait a week to find out. This, we know.

 Chuckles and Lies
Chapter Notes

I know I left you all for a very long time, but just imagine how our favorite arseholes
feel? Their imaginary characterizations have been trapped in some free-floating
purgatory for months! MONTHS unable to move their plot forward. Unable to hate
fuck. Unable to judge every writing decision I’m making.

Just kidding, they aren’t sentient and have no ability to even perceive me as I write out
their fates. Still, we should probably get back to them…

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Draco wasn’t sure if he was going to go through with the whole ripping the rug out from
Hermione by sabotaging her board thing. His actions of late had been, arguably, rather
haphazard and nonsensical. He seemed to decide what to do based mainly on the state of his
dick… or his ego. Perhaps there was a connection there?

In any case, he spent the days following that last fuck sesh with Granger privately romancing
her. Each night that week he left a different gift at her door. A first edition of Pride and
Prejudice from his family’s secret muggle fiction library, a bracelet charmed to warm
whenever he was thinking fondly of her, and even a muggle sex toy for those times when
they couldn’t be together. The real alluring thing there was the idea that he had dared enter a
muggle sex shop. He was sure it had floored her… not to mention the poetry.

More on that later.

He knew that she had been ordered to create a public proposal within a week’s time, but she
would need to wait for him to initiate such a thing. In the meantime, he would pull out all the
stops and force her to fall for him for real.

Sure, he could have gone right to his father to confront the bastard for setting all of this up…
but wouldn’t it be a better revenge to have Lucius find out that his little plot had caused his
son no distress… in fact, quite the contrary?

Yes, in some convoluted way, Draco had convinced himself that he still had the upper hand in
this mess.

And with all of his nefarious plotting, he didn’t even have a spare moment to realize that he
had not fallen out of love with her. If anything, he was more deeply in it than ever. It was just
a matter of when he could come to realize it.

Heh… come.
 oOoOoOo

“You’ll have to wait, then.”

That’s what Malfoy had told her… but Hermione was NOT one to sit idly by and wait for
something to happen. Waiting was maddening, and oh, she felt mad.

Not only was time speeding right along, and her imminent need to get him to publicly
propose was growing ever more urgent, but in the meantime, he was continuing to romance
her!

The gifts were only part of it, he’d also begun to write her poetry [see? told you]. At least,
she thought it was original.

And it wasn’t some sort of sappy bullshit, either… it was like… GOOD poetry.

And it wasn’t something he’d just written that week… he had actually revealed that he’d
written it during the month when they weren’t speaking.

So not only had he written her poetry, he’d also admitted something HUGE. Huge and
vulnerable. He had really cared for her… still did.

She was seriously so fucked up by all of it, she felt like her head was floating in a fish bowl,
detached from the rest of her body.

Some part of her told her to just relax… enjoy the ride… stop questioning what was
happening and let it happen.

But the more pragmatic side of her was like FUUUUUCK THAAAAT and hey… wasn’t this
supposed to be her plan all along?

Wasn’t the WHOLE IDEA to have him fall for her?

Well, it was… but that was before the whole marriage demand from Lucius… and
somewhere along the way she lost track of her intentions.

The SPEW center.

Right.

Expanding to other countries…

Eventually to Australia…

The vague possibility of getting her parents back.

She shook herself, noticing how quickly those bigger, more noble commitments faded from
her mind… replaced by her future husband’s face.

No but really, he was standing right in front of her.

She started, remembering that she’d be tending to their potions project.

“You alright there? Only a few seconds left before you need to add the snake fangs…”

She looked down and BOLLOCKS, he was right! Reaching frantically for the bowl and
pestle, she felt electricity fly up her arm as he gingerly took her wrist in his hand, stopping
her progress.

“I can handle it, love. You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

His words caused a whoosh of unfamiliar warmth to spread throughout her body, but she
wasn’t sure why.

Perhaps because he was offering to do her homework for her? And he was actually someone,
potentially the only someone, who could do that and do it well?

“Right,” she said, staring at him like a scared mouse, but he’d already begun attending to the
potion. She watched his fingers as they deftly maneuvered the powdered snake fangs into the
cauldron. She felt a swell of affection for him rising up in her chest, and it made her stagger
backward.

Somehow he was there, catching her before she could trip and fall in earnest. As his arms
wrapped around her, she felt herself swoon. His blonde locks fell across his gray eyes in a
perfectly tousled way… like a messy bun that has no business looking that good.

He smiled down at her and let out a small chuckle.

“I’m not sure whether to take you up to the hospital wing or back to my bed.”

“You have roommates,” was the first thing to leave Hermione’s mouth. It seemed her logical
brain was on auto-pilot, saying the next most sensible thing to occur to her in her heightened
state of adoration.

He just smirked and said, “I also have bed curtains and silencing spells. And I know they
work because Blaise and Theo have never once failed.”

Blaise. Theo. Her board members. SPEW.

The sudden reminder of her broader mission sobered her momentarily.

But only momentarily.

“You know what, better yet,” he said, and then she felt him move his wand arm and gesture
toward something behind her. Then he picked her up and laid her down on a soft chaise
lounge she was sure hadn’t been there before.

“Been working on that sort of transfiguration for a while,” he said.

The only thing Hermione could remember being present behind her in the room was a
dustbin.
He’d turned a dustbin into a chaise lounge? Oh, Merlin, if her knickers had been moist
before, they were now subject to an avalanche of lubrication. She looked down to see that the
new furniture piece was crushed velvet green... because of course it was.

“Now then,” he said, and she snapped her head up to look at him. “That potion doesn’t need
to be stirred again for another forty-five minutes.” He let his eyes wander up and down her
body before speaking again.

“Think that’s enough time for me to get your mind cleared?”

Enough… time? Hermione couldn’t comprehend exactly what he thought would take that
long, but then he continued.

“Only… I’ve heard that licking a girl’s cunt for that long could temporarily make her unable
to think straight, but it usually results in a renewed sense of mental clarity.”

She could do nothing but stare back at him, which made him chuckle again. I’m gonna start
calling him chuckles if he keeps this up.

But holy hell… he was offering to go down on her for forty-five minutes?! Hermione wasn’t
even sure that was necessary. Then again, she was perfectly willing to give it a go and see
how it went.

So, she simply nodded, and he got to work removing her robes and sliding her Gryffindor
skirt up to reveal her white lace thong. His tongue was immediately upon her, licking over the
top of the lace. The friction was insane, and she whimpered in delight as her hips bucked
involuntarily.

He said nothing, but moaned into her, the vibration of which caused her to shudder. He began
kissing up and down each thigh, his thumb gently rubbing against her clit as he did so, just
light enough to drive her mad. His other hand had slid up under her white button down and
was softly tracing circles around her nipple. Then his mouth was back on her cunt, and she
thrust up into him greedily, wishing he would slide the fabric over now.

He didn’t. It was then that she realized he meant for it to take the full forty-five minutes.

Could he possibly be more perfect?

The thought crossed her mind, followed quickly by a wtf?!

He was now gently tugging at the top of her thong to create little pulses of pleasure on her
clit, to great effect, as his tongue dipped below the fabric for the first time. Hermione could
not help but let a moan slip out at the contact, but refocused her mind on what she’d just been
thinking about.

She was physically out of control in the moment, but realized that she was emotionally out of
control as well.

She had fallen for this wizard. Hard. Completely unintentionally, and yet…
There it was.

Her months of scheming and plotting were now retroactively put in sharp relief.

Had she been falling the entire time? Had she merely been blind to it? Too cynical and jaded
to notice?

Or had recent events changed things for her?

It was nearly impossible to reason out when his tongue was now inside her!

She couldn’t take this for the full forty-five minutes, and Malfoy had been right… she needed
a clear head.

She needed to get off.

Grabbing his hair roughly in both hands, she wrenched his mouth off of her and forced him to
look up at her.

“Your cock. Inside me. Now.”

He smiled and opened his mouth to protest, but she tightened her grip on his silky blonde
hair. Damnit, it was soft. Did he use some kind of special shampoo?!

“It’s not a request, it’s what I need,” she said, and then shifted into a simpering tone. “Please,
Draco?”

Her shift in attitude acted on him like a spell and he was up and inside of her in record time.

Ah yes, there we go… fuck the clarity back into me, Malfoy.

Clearly still intent on pleasuring her first, he stroked her clit with those deft potion fingers,
and she had already been so built up in the last five to seven minutes that she found her
orgasm crashing down over her at once.

“Oh… I’m coming,” she whisper-shouted. At this, Malfoy bent down to kiss her, entwining
their fingers with his free hand while continuing to fuck her and rub her clit.

“Yes, there you go love, come for me.”

That same warmth from earlier cascaded through her body as she came, and just as promised,
her mind fog began to clear.

Love. He had called her “love” …and she had felt it. In her body. In her soul.

FUCK. She was in love with him.

It was clear as crystal now.

And it simply would not do.

She felt entirely out of control. She felt mad. Love WAS madness, she decided.

And all at once, she didn’t care if it jeopardized her plans for SPEW, she could not go
through with this insanity in this way. It was all well and good when it was an act, but there
was no way she was going to allow this to continue.

With Malfoy’s cock still inside her, she suddenly said, “I had sex with your father.”

It was the fastest and most destructive lie she could conceive of in the moment.

And the curse hit its mark.

oOoOoOo

Draco thought he’d gone momentarily insane. She’d just said the words, and yet… they did
not make sense.

And yet there she was, just having said them, staring resolutely up at him… his half-hard
cock still partially inside her.

This was a re-definition of the phrase boner-killer. Someone should update the Urban
Dictionary with this scene.

But Draco was still in the denial phase, because this simply did not add up.

“What the fuck are you on about, Granger?” he said. He was speaking quickly and with a
great deal of restraint over his anger. It was bubbling beneath the surface, but he dare not
unleash it. Not until he was certain she deserved the full brunt of it.

She pushed him off and began straightening out her clothes and casting cleaning charms. As
she did so, she began to explain.

“I had intended to fuck you for money, that’s why I came to you in the first place… but you
proved to be more trouble than you were worth, and so I went to see Lucius.”

Even though he knew that she’d gone to The Manor™ it pained him to hear her say his
father’s first name in this context.

“He was a lot easier to reason with, and was very clear on what he wanted in exchange for his
support.”

Draco’s mind was spinning. She had NOT fucked his father; he had confirmed it by reading
her mail. Hadn’t he? Hadn’t his father’s letter indicated that they needed to squash RUMORS
of a liaison?

He couldn’t remember the exact wording now, and doubt began to creep in. Doubt, followed
by Blaise’s words…

“…usually when I have to shout my denial in a crowded pub is when I am resolutely telling
the truth.”
 Granger was lying, then? Throwing Potter and the Weasel off her scent?

His thoughts were interrupted by her voice.

“I’m not sure what part of this is so difficult for you to digest, Draco. I have been playing
you, do you understand?”

No, he did not understand. He was feeling too many things at once to even comprehend his
own position.

“Your father had his way with me, but he also instructed me to have you fall for me, and for
us to be engaged. A very public engagement. One that would clear your family name for
good.”

“In exchange for what?!” he found himself shouting.

“What this has all been for from the beginning! Funding for my charity! Opening centers all
over the world!”

“No, that can’t be all. Why would you agree to defile your own body in the name of nothing
more than HOUSE ELVES who, by the way, hate you and your entire cause and are routinely
plotting your demise!”

Oh, he had plenty of ammunition up his own sleeve if they were to really have it out. Blaise
and Theo couldn’t help but fill him in on the goings on of the house elves, and it was all
information that he’d kept from her, never interested in upsetting her mood… until now.

“I have my reasons,” she said through gritted teeth before donning her robes once again and
turning to leave.

“And where do you think you’re going, Granger?”

She had her hand on the doorknob, but paused and spoke without looking back at him.

“Thanks for the fuck, it did clear my head. I need to start treating this as what it is… a
business arrangement, and nothing more.”

Then she turned the knob and disappeared.

Draco was too stunned to do anything but stand there. He could not tell what was happening
inside of his body, there was such a confusing swirl of emotions, it was impossible for him to
pinpoint.

Luckily, your trusty narrator is here to tell you that… predominantly… he was fucking
heartbroken.

Chapter End Notes

Guess I’m not going to be calling him chuckles any time soon… :-/

See you fuckers in two weeks. Pinky swear.

 Shitty Shitty Fuck Fuck
Chapter Notes

For best results, play "We Belong Together" by Mariah Carey on loop as you read this.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Oh fuck, oh shit, oh shitty shitty fuck fuck!”

(Hermione was freaking the fuck out, obviously.)

She’d run all the way from the potions classroom to her head girl dorm, and her own head
felt like it was detached from her body.

Her urge to go and take it all back was strong.

She felt entirely out of control, but in realizing as much, she also noted that she had quite lost
track of what real control had even felt like.

Had she ever been in control? Even when she’d been fighting against an unknown evil force,
like, since she was eleven?

Was anyone EVER in control, given that life could turn on its head at a moment’s notice
without stopping to ask if you’ll “ok” the changes?

“Fuck!” she cried into the silent still air of her living room.

A fire was crackling in the hearth, mocking her with its supposedly serene sound effects.

She could do nothing but stand still in the middle of the room, contemplating how much she
had just fucked her entire life.

She had invented the lie almost against her own will. There was something inside of her that
had just insisted on creating a wedge between them, severing any connection that might have
become real and true.

And now she was really and truly fucked.

What would Draco do next?

He seemed angry… perhaps he would go and confront Lucius.

But then she remembered the look in his eyes. He’d shouted at her, so he’d certainly seemed
angry.
And yet…

She had this gnawing feeling that his predominant emotion had been something more akin to
disappointment.

To heartbreak.

Had she really broken Draco Malfoy’s fucking heart? And why… oh MERLIN why… did
she feel like hers had broken right along with his?

Watch out y’all, EMO HERMIONE IS IN THE HOUSE.

oOoOoOo

As her footsteps grew fainter, Draco became very aware that there was rage bubbling up
inside of him. He had held it at bay while she was still in the room, but since she’d been
gone, he could breathe for the first- no wait… he just… recognized that he was properly
angry.

His godfather’s words suddenly reverberated in his ears…

“Be careful Draco. She’s far more ruthless than you believe her to be.”

Ruthless enough to fuck his father.

Summoning his wand from Merlin knows where, he spun around and cast a bombarda charm
right at their joint potions project.

It probably wasn’t the best choice of spell, given that he could have easily messed up the
potion by stirring it once in any direction… but it was excellent for dramatic effect. The table
on which the cauldron had sat exploded, sending shards of shrapnel-like wood all over the
room.

He threw his arms up to protect his face and received a number of wooden spikes into his
forearms and torso. Again, he would have done well to cast a protection charm, but on some
level, he’d wanted to feel this.

It was a physical manifestation of the pain in his heart.

The potion itself had soared to the ceiling and was now dripping down from where it had
splattered, onto the remains of the table like acid rain.

Draco spun back around, heading for the door, when a small voice sounded from the corner
of the room.

“The young master is angry, oh but Kreacher knows the depths of his despair.”
Snapping his head around, he saw the oldest, ugliest little elf standing in the corner of the
room. A large ornate locket hung from his neck.

But he knew this elf. Had seen him at the final battle, leading the other house elves to war.

Draco did nothing but stare, and so Kreacher stepped towards him and said, “Ms. Granger is
a formidable witch, bold ass brass and twice as stubborn.”

Shaking his head as if to rid it of cobwebs, Draco said, “How long have you been here?”

With a bow, the elf said, “Since master cast the bombarda and caused a dastardly mess on the
dungeon ceiling and floor. Kreacher is assigned to clean these rooms and his magic sends him
when there is urgent need.”

With that, Kreacher looked over at the former potions table and with a snap of his fingers,
everything began repairing. The potion itself, he vanished with a wave of his hand. The fixed
cauldron righted itself, now completely empty.

Kreacher then turned to Draco. “Master is hurt. Kreacher will accompany him to the hospital
wing where the madam will remove his-”

“No,” Draco said. “I’m no invalid. I can take care of it myself.”

He then looked down and pulled out one of the larger shards of wood that had embedded
itself in his arm. Blood gushed immediately out onto his white button down and he let out an
awful cry.

Kreacher made a “tsk tsk” sounds and then said, “Master is set on causing himself continuous
pain, both physical and emotional, I may add.”

Something then dawned on Draco, and he squinted down at the creature… Kreacher… in
alarm, temporarily distracted from his bleeding wounds.

“How in the hell are you so well spoken? I’ve never heard a house elf with such vocabulary,
let alone a depth of awareness about the human condition.”

Kreacher bowed again, in what seemed like some type of apology before saying, “I have been
educated in Ms. Granger’s classes, offering my kind all manner of sophisticated learning.
Though, I admit, I am receiving particular attention as one of the only who attend.”

The elf looked wistfully toward the door through which Granger had recently exited, and
went on to say, “Most of my kind are content to disparage and dissuade her, but I’m not
complaining so long as they don’t rise up to destroy her. I confess, I am rather enjoying my
newfound wisdom.”

Rise up. Destroy her. Draco felt suddenly heartened by the idea.

Wouldn’t it just serve her right if her own charges rallied against her and took down her
organization from within?
Screw pulling Blaise and Theo off the board, that was child’s play compared to the idea that
was now brewing in his head. Besides, there was no way he was going to get Granger to
allow them voyeur access to one of their fuck fests at this point, so he’d never be able to pay
them anyway. They’d simply have to learn to live in disappointment. And… maybe the
author would write that scene as an AU one-shot one day…. someday…

“Kreacher, did you say your name was?” Draco said.

“At your service,” Kreacher said, with yet another bow.

“I wonder if you’d be willing to help me.”

“Kreacher has already offered to escort master to the hospital-”

“That’s not what I meant,” Draco said, but then looked down at the small puddle of blood
forming near his shoes. Maybe the elf had a point. It was really time for him to stop being so
stubborn. Clearly if he was going to get revenge on Granger, he needed a small army.

An army… of elves.

DUN DUN DUN!!!!!

oOoOoOo

“I didn't mean it

When I said I didn't love you, so

I should have held on tight

I never shoulda let you go

I didn't know nothingI was stupid, I was foolish

I was lying to myself…”

Mariah played quietly in the background as I wrote this next part…

Night had fallen and Hermione found herself in the same place in her living room,
contemplating the events of the day.

She had not felt this sense of emptiness since the beginning of the school year. Before she’d
resurrected SPEW, before she’d… propositioned Draco Malfoy. And now… somehow…
she’d become completely enmeshed with him, when that was never the bloody point in the
first place! Quite the opposite, in fact!
She had to alert Lucius. She had to find a way. Except he’d expressly forbade her to write to
him, and by now she was certain that his mail was being intercepted. She’d well and properly
pissed Ron and Harry off, and sadly, she wouldn’t put it past them to create a PR disaster for
her if they further suspected her of a liaison with the Malfoy patriarch.

She sat in her living room, still staring at the crackling fire.

Could she floo call him? No… those floos were likely being monitored.

She then recalled that there were some paintings that hung in the castle, but also in other
locations outside of Hogwarts. Jumping to her feet and beginning to pace the room, she
racked her brilliant brain, her celestial mind palace of magnificent ideas, until finally… one
struck…

Severus Snape.

Draco had let it slip to her that Snape was his Godfather… surely he had a portrait at The
Manor™.

Then, she remembered the night she’d seen him in Snape’s office. She’d been in the hallway
outside and heard him speaking to someone.

Could it be… that there was a portrait of Snape… in Snape’s office? A connection to Lucius?

If there was also one in the manor, she’d never seen it. Or perhaps Snape had simply not been
in the frame. She went back into her mind palace, trying to recall whether there had been
empty frames in Lucius’s study.

Just then there was a knock at her door. She rose from where she sat and began to cross the
room when the knock sounded again, this time even more insistent.

Her immediate thought was of Draco.

She felt dread and hope in equal measure, but then shook the hope away. Nothing good could
come from a visit from Draco so soon after… what had happened.

She cast a quick peephole charm and saw that it was Theo and Blaise. With an annoyed sigh,
she pulled the door open.

“What do you two-” she began, but they charged in, pushing past her and shutting the door
behind her.

“First off, Granger,” Blaise began, “why have you been holding out on us? You have these
gorgeous living quarters and yet we meet for SPEW in a bloody spare classroom?”

Hermione grimaced at him. “First off, Blaise, how do you even know where my quarters
are?”

“Oh we came in with Draco!” cried Theo, followed by a cry of pain as Blaise openly stomped
on his foot.
Bent over and groaning, Theo said, “What in the bloody hell was that for?!”

“Because, you ignoramus, she wasn’t supposed to know we were here with Draco.”

“One of you had better give me a straight answer,” Hermione said, tightening the grip on her
brandished wand.

“You’ll be hard pressed to get anything straight out of either of us, Granger,” Theo said from
his hunched over position. He then stood and brushed his hair from his eyes like a fucking
model. For a moment, he flashed a smile and Hermione could swear she saw one of his teeth
sparkle before he said, “Just because we want to watch you and Draco fuck doesn’t mean
we’re straight.”

Next to him, Blaise became visibly more frustrated, holding both arms out at his sides and
shaking his head at Theo. “Not a subtle bone in your body, then?”

Theo raised an eyebrow at Blaise and said, “you’d know better about bones in my body than I
would, darling.”

“Witty-sex-banter-time-out!” Hermione shouted suddenly, and both boys looked at her like
exasperated children… which, they basically were.

“When were you here with Draco?!”

“Just last Sunday after the incident in Hogsmeade,” said Theo. Blaise looked over at Theo
incredulously, but Theo ignored him and went on. “We’d just heard you shouting about NOT
fucking his father, which, by the way… very subtle yourself, Granger.”

Hermione turned to Blaise. “Draco heard that?”

Blaise then raised an eyebrow at her. Lots of eyebrow play in this chapter.

“I think the whole of Hogsmeade heard it, love.”

Hermione stared around the room, her eyes unfocused. “That explains why he was so
resistant to believing it when I told him I’d fucked Lucius,” she muttered to herself.

“So it is true, then!” Blaise shouted, but Hermione held up one hand, and pinched the bridge
of her nose with the other as her head began to throb.

“Stop. Just… will you two please just sit down and give me a moment to think this through?”

“Ah!” Theo cried, “finally an invitation!” he said as he strolled into the sitting area and
splayed out on her couch with his hands behind his head. Blaise followed, taking a more
dignified seat in one of her wingback chairs. Hermione did not join them, but paced back and
forth.

“Wait so… what were you doing when you came here with him?”
Blaise looked up at her. “Honestly, Granger, we were just following Draco and Theorizing
about Lucius’s favorite sexual positions. In fact, maybe you can settle a bet for us…”

“Oh I did not fuck Lucius Malfoy, you twit!” she shouted.

Blaise and Theo exchanged surprised looks.

“You sure seemed confused about that fact, Granger, have you gone a little heavy on the
drink today?” Theo asked, but she ignored him.

“But then… what did you mean when you just said you told Draco?” Blaise said.

“Oh I… I don’t know, I just blurted it out. I wanted to… to hurt him, I suppose,” she said,
ringing her hands.

Theo cocked his head to the side like a puppy. A model puppy. (Idk why I’m all about Theo
being hunky in this chapter, I don’t think that’s consistent, but I can always go back and make
changes… deal with it.)

“You wanted to hurt Draco? Was it because you found out he read your mail?” Theo asked.

Blaise threw his arms in the air and slumped into the wingback chair, covering his face with
both hands.

“He… he read…” Hermione said.

“Some letter that was on your floor. It seemed to settle him, though. That’s when he said we
could watch you two fuck in exchange for pulling out of the SPEW board.”

Hermione just stared back at Theo, unable to comprehend a fucking thing he was saying. It
was shaping up to be a long night.

oOoOoOo

Meanwhile, our favorite former grease-head, turned sexily tousled Slytherin was enduring a
conundrum of his own.

Kreacher had brought him down to the kitchens where the house elves most resistant to
Granger’s plans were now assembled.

He’d made an attempt at rallying them into one conversation, but it turned out that a lot of
free house elves were more trouble than he’d bargained for.

Primarily, the one called Winky, who seemed to be pissed off her arse ( ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) and
claimed to have served under Barty Crouch. She rose to the front of the group early on and
began orating on her intent to dislodge Granger from her apparent political podium, while the
others held their own conversations at top volume.

Winky spoke directly to Draco, hiccupping pretty constantly as she did so.

“If that litul *hic* mudblood bitch finks sheves *hic* gonna get Winkys to learns proper
*hic* Engrish sheves gotta *hic* nuvah fing *hic* comeen!”

Draco stared down at her, rather disgusted. If this was to be his army, he would surely lose.
Perhaps it was time to come up with a new plan for sabotage.

Oh, but he’d already told Blaise and Theo that the deal was off. No voyeurism, no pulling out
of the board. He’d pissed them off good, as well, thinking he’d had the in he’d needed with
Kreacher… but that plan was pretty shite, it turned out.

“Kreacher,” Draco shouted over the din. The old elf looked up from where he sat, just outside
the gaggle of elves. “I’m out,” he said, holding up a peace sign.

He then looked confusedly down at his fingers. He’d never made that gesture before in his
life. It was as though a puppet master had been pulling his strings. (MUAHAHAHAHA)

In any case, Kreacher signaled back in kind, similarly confused, especially as he kissed his
fingers prior to throwing the peace sign.

Draco turned and left. He would need to go and see the last possible person he wanted to
speak to. His Godfather.

oOoOoOo

“Alright, so let me get this straight,” Hermione said, and then recounted every blessed piece
of this ridiculous plot back in excruciating detail. I don’t want to put you through the pain of
it, so I separated that scene and this one. Use your imaginations… go into your own mind
palaces and hear her summation of events.

Alright? Good job! Onward…

“That’s right,” said Blaise and Theo in unison, and then turned to one another to wink
simultaneously as well. They then pointed at one another, looks of delight on their faces, and
cried, “jinx!” followed by even MORE incredulous looks.

“Stop now,” Hermione said in a bored voice.

That was the fifth time she’d needed to interrupt one of their jinx loops.

“Alright, well… what now?” Blaise asked.

 Hermione though hard for a moment, but a moment was all it took before she rose from her
seat and said, “I’m back to my original thought before you two burst in here… if Draco is
planning to sabotage SPEW from within, then I need to speak to Lucius.”

“And how do you intend on-” they began in unison. This time, she simply silenced them both
with a flick of her wand, and they mouthed a series of “jinxes” at one another while she
continued.

“You two Slytherins are my key to Snape’s old office. Let’s go.”

Still silenced, she led them out of the room by force… surely missing out on a ton of
hilarious banter as she went.

Chapter End Notes

I said I would be back in two weeks, and I have fulfilled that promise. I really do love
you. Reward me with your comments and kudos.
 A Family Affair and a Pinky Swear
Chapter Summary

SHIT GOES DOWN

Chapter Notes

Hello my twisted little readers, I am back with a new installment. I have also completely
outlined the rest of this story, which is not something I have ever done before, so like....
I THINK it'll work? LET'S SEE WHAT HAPPENSSSSSS

See the end of the chapter for more notes

If anyone had been looking at the Marauder’s map, they would have seen four dots cascading
quickly toward one other, about to collide in the hallway that led to the dungeons. It would be
one of those cutaways like in a cartoon where they show the map, and the characters move
inexplicably all over said map to various locations, seeming like they will never arrive at
their destination, but lo and behold! They’d end up colliding there anyway, and we’d crash
zoom to that meeting, as the Benny Hill music ended abruptly with a record scratch…

* Record scratch * Crash Zoom *

“Granger,” Draco said, with the malice of a teenager that’d just been caught jerkin it.

Behind her, unable to speak because they were still under a silencing charm, Theo and
Blaise’s eyes flew wide. They were dirty turncoats, and while they’d been filled with ample
bravado up in her quarters, when faced with angsty Draco, they both felt their confidence
shudder.

Still, their new Queen was not shaken. Armed with her own sense of righteousness, now
knowing Draco’s plans, she stepped forward.

“Malfoy, what are you doing here?”

“I should ask you the same thing,” he said, looking down at her, their eyes boring holes into
one another.

“Why don’t you, then?” she said and then put a sarcastic finger on her chin and said, “Oh no,
wait… you don’t ask me things, you just read my mail and find out for yourself.”
Draco’s brow furrowed, until his eyes drifted over to Theo and Blaise, who could, in that
moment, be photographed as the definition of guilty.

“You bloody tossers.”

Theo and Blaise’s mouths opened in protest that would never be heard.

“Now, if we’re done here,” Hermione said, stalking past him and looking back at her
companions to signal that they follow.

They both did, walking past Draco like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But Draco, of course, followed. His eyes burning into the back of her bushy brown head.

When she reached the door to Snape’s office, she stepped aside to allow one of her Slytherin
cronies to open it.

“And what exactly do you think you’re doing?” Draco shouted.

Hermione sighed and looked back at him.

“If you don’t mind, Malfoy-”

“I do mind, actually,” he said, closing in and towering over her, once again.

Into each other’s eyes they glared, while the door behind them clicked open. They both
looked up, rushing forward immediately and shoving Theo and Blaise aside. Draco knew
exactly where he was headed and turned the corner to face Snape’s portrait, while Hermione
looked dumbly around the room.

And so it was that Snape caught the desperate, angered face of Draco, while also spying a
flustered Hermione Granger in the background.

“Well well well, what have we here,” Snape said.

Hermione spun to face her old potion’s professor, extraordinarily annoyed that Draco had
gotten there first. No matter, though, she charged forward, shoving Draco… to little effect.
She simply ended up pinned to his side and staring up at the sneer master himself.

“Professor Snape! I need to speak to Lucius!”

Draco looked over at her, aghast, while Snape simply sneered (soooo predictable. c’mon,
buddy… amiright?)

“I trust you know, Miss Granger, that living wizards cannot travel by portrait?”

“Yes of course I know that, Sir. But I thought perhaps you could get him a message, and then,
perhaps, return with his response?”

The sneer of all sneers graced his face, and he said, “Do I look like a barn owl to you?”
Behind them, Theo and Blaise were caught in a fit of silent giggles, perhaps using
legillimency to communicate their Snape jokes.

“There you are, Granger, you have your answer. Now do piss off, I need to speak with
Snape,” Draco said acidly.

Hermione folded her arms across her chest and glared back at Draco for a moment before
turning to Snape again. She’d never even thought to ask before, so set on adhering to the
post-war policies on travel, but now that she was faced with this ridiculous situation, a new
idea occurred to her like the time in the library when she envisioned a basilisk using the
plumbing to get around and kill muggle borns.

“Sir, do you know if there are any unmonitored floo’s left in the school?”

Probably by accident, portrait Snape’s eyes flitted momentarily to the fire in the room behind
them before he said, “Don’t be ridiculous, you know very well what restrictions on travel
are.”

Hermione hadn’t missed the moment, though, and she spun around to face the fire
immediately.

“Granger, what are you-” Draco broke off, realizing what she was doing just in time. She’d
located the floo powder and tossed it into the fire, and his arms had just wrapped around her
waist as she screamed “Malfoy Manor!”

Together, they hurtled through the compressing darkness and were unceremoniously spat out
onto the floor of the study at The Manor™

Coughing and sputtering, Draco sat up and glared over at Hermione.

“You are bloody insane, Granger! You could have been-”

But before he could finish that sentence, a cold voice did so for him.

“Killed.”

Draco and Hermione turned and saw Lucius standing with his hand still on the bookshelf
where he’d been reaching as they’d tumbled through.

Draco’s blind rage upon seeing his father rendered him temporarily speechless.

“Indeed, Miss Granger, I am surprised with a brain as large as yours that you did not stop to
consider the blood wards.”

Hermione’s mind reeled. How had she forgotten? She sat in confounded shock, staring
around at nothing and racking her brain. Draco had just saved her life. Her heart pounded and
her breathing increased, but she tried to quell it as best she could, because there was a whole
other fucking situation unfolding that she had not considered. She was really slipping in her
foresight abilities. Not the stupid divination kind, either, just basic fucking common sense!
Meanwhile, Draco was finally finding his voice.

“Speaking of being killed,” he said, drawing his wand and standing, pointing said wand
straight at his father’s heart.

Lucius looked away with a sassy eye roll and a sigh, while Hermione jumped up to grab
Draco’s wand arm with a cry of, “Malfoy no!”

“Son, if you truly want to end your father’s life simply because he encouraged a female to
manipulate you into an advantageous marriage, then I have never been more disappointed in
my so called Slytherin son.”

Ooh yeaaaah, Lucius, get that alliteration!!

Draco grimaced, and opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione cut him off.

“I was lying!” she said, and both Draco and Lucius turned quizzical looks on her.
Unbeknownst to them all, the slim figure of Narcissa Malfoy entered the room just as the
following words left Hermione’s mouth….

“About your father and I… having… relations.”

“What is this?” Narcissa gasped.

Then a lot of talking happened all at once, Lucius, Draco and Hermione all pointing fingers
and shouting various questions and explanations. I’ll list them all out here:

H: “Lady Malfoy!” L: “Darling!” D: “Mother!”

H: “What I said… I wasn’t.” L: “You should be laying down.” D: “Are you aware of what
Father has done?”
H: “He hasn’t done what you think he’s done.” L: “I have only been working to help this
family.” D: “Why should Mother be laying down?”
H: “Draco I was lying when I told you that.” L: “What is it that he thinks I’ve done?” D:
“That makes no sense, Granger, why would you lie about that?”
H: “Don’t ask me to explain my insane behavior, you clearly bring out the worst in me!” L:
“Lie about what, Son?” D: “And Mother, what’s wrong, are you ill?”
H: “I told him that the rumors were true.” L: “You lost the right to know when you disowned
this family, Draco.” D: “So you’re blaming me for the fact that you fucked my father?”
H: “What?!” L: “What?! D: “What?!”

Narcissa had about had it with the so-called conversation, and the narrator was nervous that
y’all wouldn’t be able to follow if she went on much longer.

“WOULD YOU ALL PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP?!”

The manor walls trembled with the reverberation of its mistress’s voice.

Shouting like that had had an impact, however, and Narcissa swayed and put a hand to her
forehead. Lucius and Draco made identical movements, swooping in to lead her to a nearby
chair.
“Fetch me the potion, Lucius,” Narcissa said in breathy tones. Lucius spun around and
grabbed a vial out of a box on the side table. They seemed to have a large supply of some
purple liquid that neither Draco nor Hermione could readily identify, which alarmed them
both! Swots.

Narcissa downed the potion, and sat back in the chair with her eyes closed, taking a few deep
breaths. Once Lucius was satisfied that she would be alright, he rounded on Hermione.

“Miss Granger, what in Slytherin’s name were you thinking coming here?”

Hermione tore her gaze from Narcissa Malfoy and turned to face Lucius. She couldn’t even
remember exactly what she’d been thinking, but mumbled something about Draco and
sabotaging SPEW.

“That’s what you wanted to speak to my father about?!”

“I had to tell him you knew the whole plan and were working to bring it down, of course!”

“I’m not really going to do that, what a bloody overreaction!”

“Well how was I supposed to know that, seeing as you haven’t been honest with me either?!”

“Speaking of honest, what was all that business about you fucking him?”

At this, Narcissa opened her eyes and looked over at her husband. “Lucius, you didn’t fuck
the muggleborn, did you?”

“No dear,” said Lucius, without taking his gaze off of Draco and Hermione. Narcissa closed
her eyes and settled back into her chair with a mumbled, “Thank Salazar.”

“But then, what about the forced proposal?”

“Oh yes, that small detail of you reading my mail, Draco, don’t think it escaped my notice
that-”

“If you two don’t mind, I need to attend to your mother beyond administering that single
potion, so could you save your lover’s quarrel and skip to the point?”

Draco and Hermione began shouting about how it wasn’t a lover’s quarrel, and with yet
another sassy eye roll, Lucius cast a nonverbal, wandless silencing charm on the pair of them.
Struck dumb, they shouted silently for a few moments before realizing the futility and simply
glaring up at Lucius. The silence made Narcissa look up to observe the scene fully.

This was karma for leaving Blaise and Theo silenced back at the castle. Oh yes, we will get
back to them. For now, stop getting distracted and let’s focus…

“Now listen to me, children. I won’t pretend to know what sort of convoluted excuse for a
relationship you have cultivated at this point. I will simply reiterate what I told Miss Granger
in her apparently non-private post.”
Hermione and Draco glared at one another and then back at Lucius.

“You will become engaged. Publicly. You’ll do it tomorrow, I am done waiting.”

“Yes, do get on with it, I’m rather sick of hearing your father bluster about it.”

“I do not bluster, dear.”

“Oh but you do, dear, you bluster all day long. Will they or won’t they. What’s taking so
long. Maybe Draco prefers the company of wizards, etcetera and so on.”

Hermione erupted in silent giggles at that last, and Draco grimaced at his mother.

“Very well, ten points to House Black, I suppose.”

Narcissa smiled up at him serenely. They actually kept track of house points, it was just a
little game they played. They had a weird yet sweet relationship. We couldn’t see it, but a
charmed set of hourglasses in a different wing of the house allowed ten black onyx
gemstones to fall peacefully into her overflowing pile. I won’t get into what the winner gets,
because they won’t even let me in on it.

Draco and Hermione remained ignorant of any of this, as it wouldn’t have advanced the plot,
but may have been of interest to you.

Lucius turned back to them and said, “will you both swear to carry this out tomorrow?”

They looked silently at one another. In Hermione’s mind, she still needed the backing for
SPEW and still intended to go through with the sham of a marriage as she’d originally
intended. In Draco’s mind, he had absolutely no reason to go through with it, except…

He looked over at his mother who’d closed her eyes again. He hadn’t seen or spoken to either
of his parents in months, and it had never occurred to him that something could be wrong
with either of them, other than… you know, that they were kind of mental. Regardless, he
needed to know what this was about. Even if he wasn’t going to play their little family game,
his instinct to stay connected to his mother was far stronger than his pride in that moment.

And so it was that they both looked up at Lucius… and nodded.

“PINKY swear?” Lucius said, and they both paused… but nodded again, stepping forward
toward Lucius. With a wave of his hand, they were unsilenced. They linked pinkies and
together recited the pinky swear promise.

“And with my pinky I swear to thee, to fulfill whatever your wishes be.”

Then they dropped their hands and turned, both confused and defeated, toward the floo.

“Oh and Draco,” Lucius called.

Draco said nothing, but stared back at his father.

“I could have had her if I wanted her,” he said, and then winked. Winked!

Without missing a beat or looking up, Narcissa said, “Don’t be ridiculous, darling, she would
never go near your wrinkly old balls.”

Lucius flushed, while Hermione felt she might vomit, and Draco moved rapidly between
being incensed and disgusted.

Lucius recovered quickly. “But you still would,” he said, with a sinister intonation.

“Of course I would, I have no choice,” Narcissa said, and then turned to Hermione. “Do
remember what you’re getting yourself into, Miss Granger. The same balls for the rest of
your life.”

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but found herself speechless even without the
silencing charm.

She turned to look at Draco, and after seeing the scowl on his face, set hers to match as they
walked to the fireplace and zoomed back to the castle.

As they tumbled into Snape’s dungeon, they caught the tail end of what seemed to be a game
of charades between Snape, Theo and Blaise.

Snape looked up as they entered. “Ah, so I see Miss Granger survived thanks to your quick
thinking, Draco.”

Draco and Hermione glanced at one another, still not removing their joint scowls.

“I was just getting caught up by these prize idiots,” Snape said.

Hermione needed to be alone. She needed to think. She needed Mariah.

Stalking past them all towards the door, she waved her wand to lift the silencing spell.

“Hey, that was just starting to be fun!” she heard Theo call as she slammed the office door
behind her.

Blaise turned to Draco and said, “So, we officially are never going to watch you fuck
Granger, is that right?”

Draco turned on them. “Get out before I remove your vocal cords permanently, both of you.”

For once, they didn’t need telling twice. “Thanks for the game, Professor!” “Let’s do it again
sometime!”

And they were gone.

Draco looked up at his Godfather and said, “What in the bloody hell is wrong with my
mother?”
Chapter End Notes

Did you have a favorite line? Because mine was the old balls one.
 The RETCON
Chapter Summary

Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster!

Chapter Notes

So here's the thing, I decided to write the last 1k or so words of this while at the beach.
My umbrella kept falling and so I was racing the clock to not have my computer
overheat and the bottom line is THERE ARE PROBABLY TYPOS AND I BELIEVE
IN YOUR ABILITY TO READ PAST THEM THANK YOU I LOVE YOU ENJOY.

YES I BROUGHT A COMPUTER TO THE BEACH AND NO I WONT BE TAKING

QUESTIONS ON THIS AT THIS TIME

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Granger! Wait…"

Draco’s voice rang across the Great Hall, and every student in the place spun to look at him.
He’d risen from the Slytherin table just at the end of dinner, and moved towards the door to
head Hermione off before she could leave.

Wait, this sounds familiar.

That’s right, babies and germs, we have finally arrived! Back at 1!

And you may notice that things… were not quite what they seemed, back when you first
started reading this titillating tale.

Welcome to: THE RETCON

Dictionary.com says…

ret·con
/ˈretkän/

verb
1. revise (an aspect of a fictional work) retrospectively, typically by introducing a piece of
new information that imposes a different interpretation on previously described events.
"I think fans get more upset when characters act blatantly out of established type, or when
things get retconned"

The fans get upset? OH, PUHLEASE, it’s just a fanfic, y’all. How about we let them decide
for themselves, huh?

We shall warp to the past and relive this first glorious chapter, with some new info for SURE.

Here we go.
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
They were well into their 8th year at Hogwarts, and this sort of intrigue was out of the norm.

She really thought that he’d chickened out, that when he hadn’t done it at breakfast or lunch,
he must have decided to break the pinky swear. And in that moment, she felt the oddest
mixture of panic and relief.

Fuck, did she actually WANT to marry him?

Deep breaths, Hermione, you have some acting to do!

She turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised with [put on] skepticism.

“Yes, Malfoy?”

He scoffed and looked away from her, clearly pretending to be annoyed. “Come now,
Hermione. I think we’re both ready to drop the act.”
She [did her best to looked] visibly unsettled at this and glanced around at the onlooking
students nervously as if nervous about what they might think.

“I don’t know what you’re-” [she said, perfectly on script]

“I love you,” he said in a ringing voice that cascaded around the room, bounding off the stone
walls for all to hear.

Hermione’s chest began heaving as she stared back at him, their eyes locked as if they were
alone in the room.

Under the veneer of confusion and surprise that she was showing to the room, her heart raced
and her chest heaved. Hearing those words from his mouth… she knew he was acting, but
dayum.

“I can’t do this anymore, I can’t pretend. The truth-” he said, and then stopped to clear his
throat, waiting a moment to gather his resolve before continuing. [he was a decent actor, she
had to give it to him] “The truth is that I want to be with you. Only you. Forever.”
[Ok he was a REALLY good actor. Because FUCK. She didn’t want to feel what she was
feeling, and yet she felt it!]

Hermione’s cheeks turned bright red and her chest continued to heave. Draco moved forward
and took both of her hands in his, and a few students near them gasped when she did not
protest.

“Marry me, Hermione.”

The gasps that then rang throughout the hall were in perfect unison. A few students shouted
things like “No!” and “What the bloody hell?!” and “Merlin’s pants!”

When the noise died down, all eyes were on Hermione. The silence was deafening as they
awaited her response.

“Yes,” she said, her voice weak with [pretend] tears, which then [supposedly] tumbled from
her eyes as she leaned in and kissed Draco. They were both grinning from ear to ear, [like the
fools they were] and after a moment of stunned silence, the hall was filled with cheers and
applause. It was hesitant at first, but then grew and grew until everyone in the room seemed
to be on the same page that this was a good thing. [because really, Hermione could get a dark
mark tattoo and these sheep would support her]

When they broke the kiss, Hermione placed her forehead on Draco’s and continued smiling.

[Her eyes had closed in contentment, which occurred to her like an alarm bell. She had to do
something to break the moment of sincerity]

Through gritted teeth, she said, “Tongue, Malfoy, really?”

[I know we are in Hermione’s POV, but let’s just say Draco was having an identical inner
experience]

He responded in kind. “Just keep smiling, mudblood.”

She looked up into his eyes. “You are vile,” she said, and then kissed him again, this time
taking care to bite on his bottom lip and drawing a bit of blood.

“Fucking bitch,” he grumbled when she released her hold on him.

A small crowd had gathered around them at this point, and a Creevey cousin took their photo.
Just as they had planned.

“Let’s get out of here before one of us loses our temper.”

oOoOoOo

[They go into a classroom nearby and row about the kiss with tongue that they’d apparently
decided against, or Hermione had, at least. Then they end up fucking. Go back and read it in
chapter 1, I am not gonna make you sit through the whole thing like this is a cop out
flashback episode – here are highlights to jog your memory…]

“I’m going to find you later and suck your cock. With just a little too much teeth.”

He ripped open her shirt and began sucking and biting everywhere he could reach.

“I don’t know, Granger, you don’t seem to be making good on your promises lately.”

“Malfoy, kindly shut the fuck up and stick a finger up my arse, like I said I only have ten
minutes.”......[Then she goes to suck his cock later that night in his dorm]

“Granger! What the fuck?!”

“Shhh, husband. You don’t want to wake the other boys, do you?” she said in a sweet simper.

“This is not funny, you fucking bitch. Release me at once.”

“Release me at once,” she mocked. “Really Malfoy, what century are you from?”

[hahaha I still love that line so much. Ok then they have a ton of hot sex, and then…]......The
next morning found them both sleeping in their own beds, and going about their days without
much thought of where the other was or what they were doing.

Their days were always like this. While the pair had found a mutual satisfaction in the act of
fucking one another, when it came to feelings, neither was willing to let their guard down
enough to care.

It was kind of funny, really. If one of them would simply show a weakness first, the other
would actually be supportive of it… but they would never know that. Because they were
assholes.
~
~
~
~
~
~
Hermione awoke with a start and saw that she’d overslept. She had also had a massively
realistic dream about Draco prosing to her at dinner, and for some reason calling her a
mudblood? And then they hate-fucked in a classroom? And THEN she found him later on
that evening so she could suck him off???
It was all really strange, too, because, like it is in many dreams, they were both just a little bit
off in terms of character voice. Also, she could hear all that narration at the end and was so
puzzled by the American accent, and the use of “assholes” over “arseholes.”

But she shrugged it off like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It was just an anxiety dream, that was all. She quickly put it out of her mind and got up to get
ready for the day. Draco was meant to propose to her at breakfast that day, and so she needed
to be prepared.

As she got ready for the day, various parts of the dream replayed in her mind. The feeling of
being relieved when he proposed. The sensation of wanting it to happen. The chills that had
exploded all over her body when he’d said those three words.

She shook herself. This whole thing really needed to get back to being a business deal. She
and Malfoy had manipulated each other many times over, and there was no hope of having an
actual relationship with him.

That was fine with her, she vehemently told herself, she would be happier this way. Engaged
to a man she could never actually trust and love, or be trusted and loved by. It suited her, she
decided. No need to get caught up in actual, pesky human feelings. They certainly wouldn’t
have kids together, so she was off the hook there. Hermione had never seen herself as the
mothering type anyway, and babies really got in the way of being a career woman.

Yes, this fucked up arrangement was just perfect the way it was. With one last look in the
mirror, she threw herself a wink and strode out of her room to go and get engaged in the great
hall over eggs and toast. Faintly, she sang “Always Be My Baby” to herself, without quite
realizing what she was singing.

oOoOoOo

Draco was freaking the F out. He and Hermione had stoically made a plan for how to carry
out their fake (yet, not so fake?) public engagement the night before. He’d spoken to Snape
and discovered exactly NOTHING useful from the snide man regarding his mother’s
condition. Afterwards, he’d stomped to Hermione’s room and had the excruciatingly brief
conversation, without her even opening the door fully. They’d decided to get it over with the
following morning at breakfast, and then they could go on with their lives, publicly engaged,
and privately not speaking.

He truly did not know how to feel about it, so he decided to feel nothing.

After all, feeling things had just gotten him into trouble.

No, after that scene in his home he realized that he’d let this thing with Granger become a
distraction from the rest of his life. Now, we know and he knows that he had had no intention
of including either of his parents in “his life” before that little scene, but let’s just let him
have this one, okay? Our boy has been through a lot.

So, he decided he was doing this marriage thing for the sake of his mother, and he would use
it as an excuse to find out what was really going on with her.

His father could have his soul sucked out for all he cared, but apart from going along with his
stupid father, his mother had always wanted the best for him. Something about seeing her ill,
especially at her age, really shook him.
And he would shimmy shimmy shake right into having his priorities in the right place, for
once.

oOoOoOo

The scene in The Great Hall that morning went weirdly similar to the dream, except for the
fact that it happened as planned, during breakfast. But also, except this part:

When they broke the kiss, Hermione placed her forehead on Draco’s and continued smiling.

He smiled back and as they pulled away, their eyes connected.

For a moment, the most minuscule millisecond of a moment, time seemed to stand still as
they gazed into one another’s eyes. They both felt their bodies regulate, anxiety slipping
away, and contentment sliding in.

But as I said… it was a millisecond. Almost unperceivable to the human eye. And then panic
swooped in as they simultaneously remembered that this was not real.
Quickly getting back into their roles, they turned to smile for the Creevey camera, and exited
the hall as if going somewhere to have their privacy.

In actuality, they both headed back to their rooms, with no intention of attending class that
day.

No, this was not part of their plan, but these two were basically mind melded at this point and
tended to have the same ideas at the same time. They wanted the school to have a chance to
digest the idea before subjecting themselves to scrutiny.

That, and they both needed to work on assuming the position of not caring what happened
next. Occlumency was in order for each of them.

Little did they know, they would both be receiving howlers for the next 7 days straight.

oOoOoOo

Due to the overwhelming amount of media attention their engagement had Garnered,
Professor McGonnagal gave them each permission to take their classes remotely, using
magical two-way mirrors.

When the owls swooped in with howlers during mealtimes, there were so many and they
were so loud, that the students had adopted wearing earmuffs taken from herbology class.
Draco and Hermione, however, just set to incendio-ing each missive. Without earmuffs, they
were able to catch the general gist of the messages.
Hermione was insane, and a traitor to her own kind. Draco was an evil death eater who had
clearly tricked the Golden Girl into taking a love potion. Many called for their deaths, in a
variety of gruesome ways.

After the initial slew of howlers, Hermione received one regular letter…

Hermione,

I have been waiting to receive a letter from you to let me know that this is all some clever
ruse. That you are, perhaps, playing the Malfoys as some form of reparations?

My only other conclusion is that you did this in order to throw people off of the scent of the
other accusation I brought to your attention when we last spoke.
Please confirm by reply owl, we have no idea how to field questions on this, and everyone
expects me to have the inside scoop. Rather than send his own letter, Ron asked me to say
“ditto” on his behalf.

We look forward to hearing from you.

Best,
Harry

Hermione relished the incendio she cast to rid herself of that particular letter.

oOoOoOo

Meanwhile, our boy Draco sent a few letters himself, each one inquiring specifically about
his mother’s condition. He received no response to any of them, and decided to take matters
into his own hands and floo home.

The floo, however, had been closed off. Evidently, Snape had not appreciated some of the
insults Draco had flung his way after his last floo journey, and the man had conspired to have
the floo shut.

In the absence of having the information he needed, and in the presence of the monotony of
his new existence, Draco found that even jerkin it had lost its appeal.
His thoughts naturally went to Hermione, and would also instantly kill his boner. He couldn’t
feel anything for her. Couldn’t even relate to her as just an object, because he found that his
fantasies about her now involved… feelings. And he was done with those, so he supposed
that for the time being, he’d have to be done with getting off, full stop.

Instead, he began reaching again for his trusty flask of expensive wizard whiskey. (Did that
mean the whiskey was expensive or the wizard drinking it? Who knew?!) It occurred to him
that he hadn’t been drinking very much since the start of his deal with Granger. She’d been
his replacement addiction, and instead of feel the withdrawal, he would simply drown his
sorrows until he figured out a better way to get in touch with his mother.

He took to skulking disillusioned through the hallways.

 One night, when he had had a particularly large amount of EWW, he found himself walking
past Granger’s room.

He could hear that horrific Mariah person’s music through the door. Muggle bullshit.

“I know that you'll be back boy, when your days and your nights get a little bit colder” her
voice crooned through the door.

Just before knocking, he pulled himself away, took another expensive swig, and wandered on
down the halls.

On the other side of the door, Hermione sat, Marauder’s Map clutched in her hands, as she
began to weep.

Chapter End Notes

What will happen next!? Post your theories below, I'm gonna go have a nice glass of
EWW
 The Time Jump
Chapter Summary

No it's not time travel, losers.

Chapter Notes

sorry that was harsh. enjoy this early chapter as penance!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

*One Month Later*

(GASP! I KNOW! That’s a long time not to write about!)

For real, it is, but check it out...

These two have been freakin MISERABLE! I’m tellin ya!

It’s been non-stop drinking for Draco and non-stop Mariah for Hermione.

Or should I say, Hermarione.

Wow what a nightmare of a play on words, let’s move on, I don’t like deleting things.

So, they’ve both been totally in it, innit?

And they spent that whole time merely going through the motions of life. Before they knew
it, it was NEWT season and Hermione had something new to sink her worries into.

She sat in the library, taking up a large table by herself, and feeling as though she might faint
if she didn’t eat soon. As she leaned over the book she was still scouring to see if it held an
explanation of a particular rune, she thought she felt someone move nearby her. Spinning
around to spot the source of the sound, she saw nothing, but felt a presence.

A chill ran down her spine as she gaped around. She was in a back corner near the restricted
section, and it wasn’t particularly well lit.

After all, the best books were in the dark corners. *eyebrow wiggle*

When she finally grew tired of staring around, she looked down at the table in front of her
and gasped.
A small box sat atop the book she’d been hunched over. It was adorned with black and silver
satin ribbons, that she traced with her fingers as she lifted the box to her ear, giving it a shake.

No rattle. Whatever was in there must be held in place. Whatever...

She squeaked and jerked her hand, causing the box to fall and land open on top of the rune
definitions, popping open in the process.

She stepped forward hesitantly, but also felt a vibration of excitement.

As gasp escaped her lips as her eyes landed upon a large, ornate engagement ring. A teardrop
shaped emerald was the main event, set with tiny glittering diamonds around its edges, and
two larger oval cut diamonds on either side.

The ring screamed Malfoy heirloom.

Not REALLY, it wasn’t some talking horcrux, the scream was strictly metaphoric. (duh)

With hands slightly shaking, she removed it from its snuggly velvet cushion and slipped it on.
Another gasp as she felt the ring heat slightly as it resized itself to fit her petite finger.

Who knew how long she stood there staring at it, but after some time, she remembered that
Malfoy had been nearby. Glancing around at the shelves, her stomach did a little flip,
wondering if he’d been watching her the whole time. Or had he just left the box and
disappeared?

Did he care? Did she?

These were the two questions she’d been grappling with for far longer than she cared to
admit.

oOoOoOo

Draco didn’t know how long he’d been skulking in the library, watching her. After she’d put
the ring on, he’d stood there for a pretty creepy amount of time. Her hand, now adorned with
his grandmother’s ring, glittered over her ancient runes text. It was a mesmerizing sight to
behold. He definitely had a semi.

Seeing her wearing it had had a far greater effect on him than he’d anticipated. Especially
because he’d anticipated no effect at all.

Eventually, he tore himself away and went back to his dorm. Blaise and Theo were nowhere
to be found; the pair had taken to making themselves scarce, as Draco’s wand arm was so
easily triggered in their direction these days. He suspected they were doing unsavory things
in the room of requirement, or had perhaps warded an unused classroom like he and Granger
had done so many times...

Climbing into bed, Draco let his mind drift to one of his many encounters with Granger in
said classrooms.
The way she’d taken charge any time he had not beat her to it, and often, even when he had.

“I’m riding your cock, Malfoy, and I won’t hear a word against it,” she’d said as she
unbuttoned his trousers and reached in to wrap her hand around his manhood.

Draco did so in real life, imagining her petite fingers in place of his own. Slowly, he began
stroking himself, finding that, for once in quite some time, he grew harder and his body urged
him to continue the fantasy.

She’d bent down to take him into her mouth, more for lubrication than anything, but her lips
and tongue felt like heaven wrapped around him, however brief it was. Then she lifted her
skirt and slid aside her green lace knickers, shoving him inside of her with ease. They both
groaned in relief and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him greedily as she
began to rock back and forth on his cock.

This was a memory he hadn’t often revisited, but it was one of the times when he felt
particularly valued by her, and not just for his disco stick.

She’d devoured his mouth as if he was her last meal, and perhaps he had been, since they had
been missing dinner that evening.

His mouth hung open, imagining hers meeting his, as he pumped a bit faster. He tried to
imagine the sensation of her tight little cunt as she bucked her hips with abandon.

His hand was no match, but he did his best to sink in to the memory and let it take him over.

She’d broken the kiss and moved her mouth to his ear, breathing heavily as she said, “perfect
cock, Malfoy. So perfect.”

Without thought, he’d growled “you are,” as he grabbed her hair roughly and pulled her into
another kiss.

She’d cried out, and from her movements, he could tell that she was already about to come.
Quickly, he’d lifted her off his cock, which was much to her dismay.

He gave her a tap on the arse, signaling that he wanted her to turn around and put her cunt on
his mouth. “Whoever comes first loses,” he’d said, and they’d both smirked at one another as
if to say “challenge accepted.”

She’d pressed herself to his mouth and had his cock enveloped in her lips in seconds.

Instantly, he could feel the tip of his cock touching the back of her throat. Competitive little
minx. But no matter.

He sucked on his finger and slid it into her arsehole as he began to lavish her cunt, sliding his
tongue back and forth from her clit to her slit, slipping it in to taste her even more deeply.

In the present day, he could smell her, taste her. The scent memory threw him over the edge
and he gripped his cock more tightly as his pace sped up and he came with a series of
involuntary grunts and moans. It lasted about three times as long as he had become
accustomed to. He lay there, boneless and panting, his head racing and his entire body
buzzing. Eventually, he reached for his wand and tergeo’d the mess, rolling over and falling
to sleep with a soft smile on his face, more content than he’d been in many months.

oOoOoOo

Hermione felt the cold metal of the engagement ring on the soft skin of her left breast as she
brought herself over the edge with her dominant hand.

Dominant, that’s what she’d been that night, and he’d still managed to outdo her. Not all the
time, but about half of the time.

They were true equals.

After a bit of clean up, she lay in bed for a while, pondering their fucked up “relationship” –
if you could actually call it that. She’d been over and over this in the last few months, but
getting the ring from him had brought it all back into her mind.

It was impossible to know who had been playing whom, and when. It was unreasonable to try
and reason out either of their actions. What was love and what was a game. Or was it just a
love game?

Deciding that sleep wasn’t going to happen any time soon, she tore back her covers and
padded over to her vanity table. Opening the wooden box which held a number of keepsakes,
she reached, as always for the worn piece of parchment containing poetry that Draco had
written the last time they weren’t speaking.

She was about to read it for the zillionth time, when her eye caught on something glittery she
hadn’t noticed before. She grabbed it up and realized it was the bracelet that Malfoy had
given her, the one that was charmed to warm whenever he was thinking of her fondly. Before
even beginning to consider whether she should wear it, she realized that it was warm.

Her heart began to race. He was thinking of her fondly. Was he asleep? Dreaming of her? Or
perhaps he was thinking of her the way she’d just been thinking of him?

Standing up so fast that she knocked over her chair, she sped over to her trunk and pulled out
The Marauder’s Map. She quickly located his unmoving dot inside of his dormitory.

Asleep. Dreaming. Of her.

oOoOoOo

The next morning, Hermione entered The Great Hall™ and rather than make her usual b-line
for the Gryffindor table, she chanced a meaningful glance over at the Slytherin table, hoping
to catch Malfoy’s eye. She felt like it was time for them to talk, and to establish some kind of
working relationship. They had spent the entirety of the time-jump taking their classes and
meals from their rooms, but people would surely soon notice that the supposedly engaged
pair was never seen together.

However, her chance glance yielded no result. Malfoy was absent from the table.
Hermione shrugged, figuring that he was probably still taking meals in his room, and made
her way to her house table instead. She sat alone at the far end, which looked really sad, but
she preferred the cold shoulder to the enmity she’d been expecting. People were leaving her
alone, and that was amazing. She would not question it, and she would keep to herself!

This pronouncement lasted exactly 24 hours.

She hadn’t seen Malfoy anywhere for the rest of that day, and by the next morning at
breakfast she’d begun to worry. Still sitting on her own at the end of the table, she wondered
if she should go as far as to attempt to visit his dormitory.

Her attention was rudely snatched away from that particular pondering, when the post owls
swooped in with mail. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the image of familiar blonde
hair on the cover of The Profit that Neville had just opened. She’d been mid-thought and
mid-toast-bite, but dropped both as she rose from her seat and made her way over to him,
causing all the nearby Gryffindors and a few Hufflepuffs to turn and stare.

Neville looked up from the paper and shook upon seeing Hermione. I mean like his whole
body and the paper and his hand that was on a teacup all shook, like he was a freakin’ cartoon
character.

“Oh, uh… hey… Hermalfoy, I MEAN HERMIONE!” he squeaked.

Our girl had no time to fully absorb whatever the hell Neville’s deal was, and quickly
snatched up the paper, now able to see the full headline:

“Malfoy Matriarch Dead at 44!”

Below the headline was a photo of Lucius shutting the doors of his study on the
photographer. Just before the doors closed, however, Hermione caught a glimpse of Draco in
the background.

He looked completely lost. Woebegone. And other synonyms for looking truly fucked up by
life.

Hermione’s mouth dropped to the floor, before realizing that this news should not be news to
her. The damage had been done, however, which she realized as a Gryffindor third year said,
“Bit odd to see a future Malfoy surprised by that news, innit?”

She looked up and gave the boy a death stare. Pew pew, lasers right in both eyes. The boy
was thrown off kilter, as if she’d actually hit him with something, and she decided that that
would suffice for a response.

Turning on her heel, she strode out of the hall clutching the paper in her hand, determined to
get to Malfoy Manor. Professor McGonnagal would be in her office by now, she always took
her meals at the earliest hour before many students had arrived, so that she could get back to
her office and work on her muggle puzzles.
True to expectation, Hermione found the Headmistress leaning over a small table, using her
wand to sift through pieces.

“Ah Miss Granger, I was wondering when I would see you,” she said without looking up
from her important work.

Holding up the copy of the Profit, she said, “When did he leave?”

McGonnagal glanced up to confirm what Hermione was talking about. “Yesterday morning,
just after sunrise. And am I correct in assuming he did not communicate anything about this
to you?”

Hermione shook her head looking despondent. “Nothing,” she said.

At that, McGonnagal stood and motioned for Hermione to follow her to the seating area. The
pair sat, Hermione staring off into the distance, deep in thought. The headmistress, however,
was in total stand-in parent mode. (She’d be quite the Auntie, huh?! *shivers*)

“I thought you two must have had a falling out,” she said.

Hermione looked up, perplexed. “A… a what, professor?”

“Oh,” McGonnagal said, “Am I mistaken? Only, I would imagine that if you were on good
terms I would still be hearing about your romps in broom cupboards and spare classrooms,
but that seems to have stopped since your engagement.”

Hermione turned red and her eyes flew wide. How fucking mortifying. What must this witch
think of her if she knew about all that?! She tried to speak, but only little squeakies came out
of her mouth. Finally, McGonnagal held up a hand.

“No need to explain, Miss Granger. You children have been through a lot, it makes sense that
you would drown your sorrows in something. While I admit that I had never considered it
would be Mr. Malfoy who you chose to drown yourself in, I can see the appeal.”

Eyebrows raised, Hermione stared at her Headmistress in shock.

“Oh yes,” said McGonnagal, sitting back in her chair and pulling out a long Cruella DeVille
style cigarette holder.

Hermione’s eyes got even WIDER. About to fall out of her head now.

Lighting up and taking a drag, McGonnagal let out a long exhale and said, “I had a Slytherin
boy once.”

The alarm bells in Hermione’s mind went absolutely bonkers, and she stood, truly not
wanting to hear one more word from this trip down McGonnagal memory lane.

“Headmistress, I need to travel to The Manor™ as soon as possible. Could you procure me a
portkey like you did the last few times I needed to travel there?”
 Physically deflating, the headmistress stomped out her cigarette and mumbled something
about “self-involved 8th years” – (obvi she had tried to get chummy with others! Wonder if it
had worked with any of them?!)

“You will need to provide me permission from someone at The Manor™ just as you did the
last time-”

But Hermione had already turned to leave, heading straight to the owlry to send a letter to
Lucius. Surely he would allow her permission. After all, they had to keep up appearances.
Right?

Welp, she thought so, but later that day she received this missive in return.

Miss Granger,

In this time of grief, I request that you remain at school. Please put about the idea that
Draco did not want you to fall behind in your NEWT studies, and so asked you not to
come to the services. This will satisfy all, as Pureblood death ceremonies never include
non-family members, let alone… well, let’s just say no one will find it hard to believe.

I appreciate your cooperation with this matter.

Lucius Malfoy

Hermione’s heart dropped. She re-read the letter a few times and felt tears pooling behind her
eyes. It was so stupid, but she felt left out. Even more than that, she had never wanted to hold
Draco more than in that moment.

Chapter End Notes

AAAAAAAAAH THE ANGSTTTTTT!!!! Next chapter will bring our boy back in. See
what the fuck he’s up to. What u think?
 One Sweet Night
Chapter Notes

There is relief at the end, my loves.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Draco fought back tears for the zillionth time as he watched the fire around his mother’s
casket grow to the height of the nearby trees on the grounds of The Manor™. It was
customary for Pureblood funerals to be extremely private, and yet… a spectacle. The green
flames rose high into the night, and he bit back the emotion that had been threatening to
overtake him for days.

“Malfoy men do not show weakness.” -Lucius’s toxically masculine credo

If only his father knew what a simp he could be for Hermione, huh?!

Alas, he… well, he sort of did, but Draco didn’t know that.

He and his Dad exchanged very few words in all the time he’d spent at home. Bonding over
hard times was, apparently, not something Malfoy men did either!

Finally, the fires went out, and the elves went in to fetch the magically forged keepsakes,
created with the ash inside. It was a calm, soundless night, save for the little “ooh oooh ah
ah!” And “eep eek!” Noises the elves made as they hopped over the still steaming singed
ground. They returned, each holding black, cylindrical crystals.

Draco and his father made identical movements to retrieve theirs, and after doing so, parted
ways in opposite directions.

It was cold AF. Not just the weather, but… the whole mood.

When Draco finally made it back to his bedroom, he put the crystal into the drawer of his
nightstand, thinking he might never go in that drawer again. He felt a pang of guilt at the
thought, but it was quickly replaced by righteousness. Why should he be this upset? Why
should he care about her, when all she ever did was feed him to the wolves. The stupid
woman should have stood up for what she believed in and not let her only son be inducted
into the evil hall of fame!

Suddenly, he realized he was kneeling on his bed, cuddling a pillow. Looking down at it in
horror, he thrust it across the room so hard that a whole bunch of feathers came flying out of
it. He stared at it for a long while before standing and walking over to pick it up.
With another thrust, he slammed the pillow against the nightstand, and relished the sight of
feathers flying once again. And again. And again! He grabbed up more pillows and smashed
them, too. It was like a pillow fight between himself, and his grief, and he was gonna fucking
WIN.

This all shifts into slow motion, as a montage begins, filled with childhood images of Draco
with his mom, the pillow fight overlaid at medium opacity. It moves through all the positive
memories he has, as Mariah’s One Sweet Day (feat Boyz II Men) plays in the background.

“Sorry I never told you, all I wanted to say…” -Mariah and the Boyz

As the curtain closes on this scene, we all have a good cry.

In fact, we have a GREAT cry.

oOoOoOo

Draco spent the next few days surrounded by feathers. He had threatened the elves with
setting themselves on funeral fire if they cleaned them up. The sight of the mess made him
feel… good. Satisfied. Like he’d done something well.

“Well done, me” he’d said aloud, each time he’d looked up to survey the fluffy mess.

He wasn’t really sure what he was saying. After his initial outburst, he’d gone to his home
potions lab and brewed up a calming draught, with an extra little kick. It was something like
taking a bong hit.

Yes, our boy spent the week stoney baloney, laying in goose feathers, and threatening to burn
the creatures that his fiancé loved so dearly. It. Was. Special.

Eventually, however, all good things must come to an end, and he had to gather his things and
return to school so that he could finish out the year and take his NEWTs.

Yes, just three more months of school, and then he would be a free man.

Well, and he’d be getting married at some point, he realized, but it wasn’t real. So,
essentially, he was still free.

As he loaded up his school trunk, taking special care to pack his liquid wizard weed, he
thought of Granger. And oddly, it was the first time he had in a while. Thoughts of his mother
had consumed him, and Granger hadn’t even been in his mental orbit for some time.

He’d have to see her in classes. Surely, she’d been off the two way mirror and back in
classrooms on a regular schedule by now.

But how should he act towards her? And what did he expect her to be like?

Would she be concerned?

A faint sense of hope coiled in his chest, which he quickly snuffed out with a sip of his
unpacked potion, there to get him through the night.

But a funny thing happened… and the LWW didn’t lessen his sense of hope, it only enlarged
it. He was restless that night, and dreamt of Hermione, comforting him at the funeral as he
wept into her tiny shoulder.

When he awoke, he opened his trunk and added multiple bottles of EWW. (expensive wizard
whiskey for those without that type of memory)

Yea… that would do it! Because drinking made him angry. Pissed… even. *thinky emoji*

He could rage and rage and never feel a thing. That was the plan. And boy, was he good at
carrying out plans.

(*whispers* we don’t really have evidence for that at all, but the guy’s mom just died, cut
him a break?)

oOoOoOo

Draco would be returning that night. McGonnagal had given Hermione a heads up.

It was really weird, actually. The school had been out on a trip to Hogsmeade, and the
headmistress had waited outside the iron gate entrance for Hermione, specifically to tell her
this news.

She’d done so with yet another long cigarette hanging out of her mouth.

When Hermione had inquired as to why the headmistress was out by the gates, she’d simply
said, “I like a thestral ride at dusk. Helps remind me of the fallen.”

Not wanting to encourage any more depth of conversation, Hermione had accepted this at
face value and bid the woman a good evening and a safe flight.

Once back in her room, Hermione went straight for the Marauder’s map, to check that her
charm was still intact. She had set it to alert her whenever Draco re-entered the castle.

Hermione, as we know, was actually great at carrying out plans.

Now that she knew he would be returning, however, she suddenly had no idea what to do. At
the moment she realized this, there was a knock at her door.

Her gaze flew immediately to the map, and she saw that none other than Blaise and Theo
were waiting on her doorstep. She let out a long sigh, staring at their little dots.

“They aren’t going to go away, are they?” She said aloud.

Nope! They sure aren’t! And this story tends to live and die by the dialogue so holy shit, let’s
get some other characters in here to talk to you!
“Very well,” she said… to no one at all.

Upon opening the door, she was greeted with those familiar faces, with not so familiar
expressions. They looked… concerned? Sympathetic?

“Hello, Granger,” they said, but not totally in unison.

Seemed they weren’t coming to get on her last nerve, then.

They strode in, and Blaise took a seat in the living area, while Theo made his way straight to
the kitchenette.

“Tea?” He said.

“Yes, please,” she replied automatically, albeit bewildered.

She went to sit on the couch opposite Blaise, and she noticed that he was looking at her rather
attentively. He leaned forward onto his knees and took a deep breath before speaking.

“So… how are you?” He said.

At first, she merely blinked in response, then said, “Been better.” Her honesty didn’t really
surprise her, she’d been pretty lonely for a while, and the connection already felt like a balm.

Blaise tilted his head, and Theo arrived with the tea, clearly having sped its process with
magic.

They all prepared their cups and took a sip before placing them back down and looking
around at one another.

“Well, this is properly awkward!” Theo burst out.

“It is not awkward darling, we should be able to sit and have a normal conversation with
Granger, even when she’s in this state.”

“What state?” Hermione said, but Blaise was still focused on Theo. As a side thought, he
turned back to her and said, “Heartsick, sad, and alone, of course,” before turning back to
Theo and continuing to lecture him on how they couldn’t always be in their goofy “on”
mode, and sometimes they had to act like normal wizards and simply be with a friend for
support.

As Blaise spoke, his voice began to feel far away, and Hermione started to spiral into thought.

Heartsick? Sad? Alone? Is that all she was now?

She knew she’d been being rather pathetic, but had never exactly labeled it. It was startling to
hear it said like that. But what could she do about it? Everything was so fucked up between
them, and whenever Draco did come back to the castle, they were going to have to be seen
together.
They were going to have to pretend. To act like a couple. To deal with people’s comments
and abuse. And perhaps enduring that could lead to something real.

Was he thinking about her?

“Earth to Granger!” Theo said, “that’s a good one, right? Muggle phrase?”

“What?” She said, distractedly.

“I said ‘Earth to Granger!’ And that’s a muggle phrase, right?”

When she simply stared at him, still hooked by her own thought, he said, “you were raised by
muggles, right Granger? Or is there something I don’t know?”

He was talking about her parents. Why? And how were they? And how much closer was she
(or not) to potentially getting them back?

Tears filled her eyes at this thought.

“Damn you, Theo! You made her face leak!” Blaise said, pulling out a handkerchief with
excessive amounts of pureblood suaveness, and handing it to her as he sat beside her and
cradled her in one arm.

“But this is good!” Theo said. “She’s emoting, this is what we want, right?”

“Well sure, but we didn’t come here to make her cry!”

“I didn’t make her-”

“You just did-”

Hermione had had about enough of this crap, however.

“He didn’t,” she said, through stifled sobs.

They both looked at her as she blew her nose and dabbed her eyes before reaching down to
her wand so that she could tergeo the little cloth and go in for round two.

Once she was done, she took a deep breath and said, “It’s nothing, I just miss my parents, on
top of…”

“Missing Malfoy, you miss Malfoy too, right?!” Theo said, and Blaise gave him a blazing
look (seewhatididthere) but Hermione just stared back and eventually nodded once.

“Hah, see! I knew it!”

Blaise ignored him, sitting back to look at her properly. “You love him.”

Hermione gasped, then held her breath tightly before releasing it and nodding her head
vigorously.
“What did I tell you, Theo? We were so right to come here!”

“I have to give it to you, and in fact later on tonight, I may,” Theo said with a wink at his
mans.

Blaise winked back, and then turned to Hermione.

“Look Granger, we wanted to come and give you a heads up, Draco is returning tonight.”

Hermione nodded again. “I know. McGonnagal told me.”

The two boys turned to gape at one another. “What does the old bat have to do with it?” Theo
asked.

Hermione let out a small laugh. “Snape is the bat. McGonnagal is a cat.”

“Yes yes, whatever,” Blaise said, “Why would she do that?”

Hermione shrugged, “She’s got some vested interest in a Gryffindor and a Slytherin making it
work. I have reason to believe it’s based on a past regret of hers.”

Again, the boys gaped.

“I never thought of her having a past,” Theo said, staring away into space.

“Bizarre, but a believable motive I suppose,” Blaise said.

That sparked something for Hermione, and she turned to Blaise with yet another blazing
look. “And what’s yours?”

“Sorry?” Blaise said (far too quickly)

“Your motive,” Hermione said, turning her attention from Blaise to Theo, knowing him to be
the one with a weaker resolve. “For coming here. For… helping me.”

Theo gulped, and that was enough for Hermione to be sure. Still well sheathed in her glass
case of emotion, she grabbed her wand and pointed it at Theo, crying, “LEGILLIMENS!”

Whoosh whoosh swoop shwooop, she was in his miiiind!

He was a horrific occlumens, she wasn’t even performing the spell very well, but the scene
she sought floated straight to the top of his consciousness.

Blaise and Theo in bed. Fully clothed, thank goodness, but speaking darkly to one another.
Like… sexy darkly.

“If we get them back together, we still stand a chance of getting to watch,” Blaise was
whispering in Theo’s ear.

That was all she needed.

She pulled out (hehe) and Theo fell back onto the couch, clutching his head in pain and
sucking air in and out of his mouth with clenched teeth, Dan-Radcliffe-in-the-third-movie
style.

She stood and backed away. “You’re still ON that?!” she said.

“Clearly, you left the memory too soon, Granger.”

“She did!” Theo yelled, “Granger you didn’t see any of the nice stuff. We said a lot of good
things about you and how we really want to help you because we like you as a person.” He
then lowered his voice to a mumble-whisper, saying, “in addition to the fact that we have an
odd fascination with the idea of getting to watch you and Malfoy fuck.”

She scoffed, spinning around to go to her room. “If you two aren’t out of here in thirty
seconds, I will forcibly repel you from the room.”

Stopping in the doorway of her bedroom, she turned to them and said, “Have you ever been
thrown from a room by your ankles? Twenty five… twenty four…”

Well, let me tell you, they got the fuck up out of there, and slammed the door before
Hermione had gotten out of the twenties. She, too, shut the door and went into her bedroom,
and the living room fire crackled on. Could a fire sound lonely?

Eventually, Hermione’s bedroom door cracked open and she slipped back out, padding
quickly over to the seating area. She grabbed the cup of tea and retreated back to her room.

Theo did make a damn good cup of tea, and kinky motives aside, it had actually helped to
talk to Blaise. She wasn’t in any different position, but she felt slightly more self-aware. For
whatever reason, that gave her a sense of power. Not control, but something far less
menacing, and way more useful… inner strength.

She found that this sensation quieted her heart and allowed her to fall into a peaceful sleep.

She was awoken from her nap, however, when the charm she’d added to her bracelet went
off, signaling Draco’s return to the castle. Her eyes flew wide, and she jumped out of bed to
stare at his dot on the map. She’d charmed it to leave green sparkles in his wake, to make him
easier to track.

A sinking feeling came over her and she watched him head from the headmistress’s office to
the dungeons. What if he wasn’t ready to talk yet? She should give him some space. Yes.
That felt right. She had inner strength to call on now, and she could make these decisions
from a clear head.

She forced herself to close the map. She had NEWT studies to get on with, and she would
simply feel out when a good time would be to approach him.

oOoOoOo

Draco returned to his dorm to find Blaise and Theo deep in whispered conversation. They
looked up as he came through the door.
“Malfoy!” they said, not quite in unison.

“I don’t need any of your bullshit, you two. Please fuck off,” he said as he crossed the room
to drop his bag on the bed.

“But we-” Theo began, but Draco was across the room with a wand to his throat with
quickness.

“Don’t make me silence you, or worse,” Draco said.

Both Theo and Blaise put their hands in the air and backed away. Draco climbed into bed and
closed the hangings. A few more months. He just had to survive being at the school for a few
more months.

He reached into his bag and grabbed his flask of EWW and took a swig.

Survive. He was already pretty good at that. (and yes, we can give him that one)

oOoOoOo

The next day, neither Draco nor Hermione acknowledged the other. Hermione was hell-bent
on giving Draco space, and Draco was not about to risk showing any weakness by being the
first to speak. For all he knew, she wanted nothing to do with him. He’d already lost the most
important woman in his life, and he wasn’t keen on the idea of losing another.

Not that she was THAT important, of course. *scoff*

oOoOoOo

It continued on like this for about a week. Their silence was broken by fate, when Hermione
happened upon a seemingly drunk Draco while on rounds in the third floor corridor. She
hadn’t checked the damn map that night. Of course, the first time she completely forgot to
check for green sparkles, and there he was.

He looked up as she entered the hallway. She stopped short at the sight of him.

Inner strength… she told herself. She could totally handle this.

Walking toward him with purpose, she realized that he was staring her straight in the eyes. A
Slytherin intimidation tactic. A false wall. Protection.

Well, he had nothing to fear from her, and she refused to act scary. They had to find a way to
work together, and she didn’t care if he hated her, she was going to be civil.

(She definitely cared if he hated her!!! Ok, just needed to make sure we are on the same page,
thanks.)

Perhaps she hadn’t “forgotten” to check the map. Perhaps, on some level, she’d wanted this
very scenario to happen. After all, she was prepared. Noticing his flask in hand, she reached
into her robes and pulled out her own flask as she sat down on the floor next to him.
Clinking the flasks together, she paused for a moment, remembering Blaise’s visit before she
said, “How are you?”

When she looked back at him, the way he was glaring at her, she wasn’t sure if he was going
to scream in her face or start crying.

She held his gaze, unflinching, for a very long time.

Finally, he said, “been better.”

Then he dropped his flask and his hand flew forward to cup her cheek.

His lips on hers were electric oblivion.

She dropped her flask as well, clutching the hair on the back of his head like it was her stolen
property she’d just found in someone else’s possession.

They melted into one another, rediscovering, groping and mouthing all of the parts they loved
on the other. She knew he’d been drinking, but he seemed almost sober in his movement and
attentions.

Euphoria ran through her body as the sensation of being wanted returned to her after a long
stay away. Small shards of affection pierced her every time one of them broke a kiss to smile
or laugh with relief before returning to what they were doing.

She’d climbed on top of him and he’d unbuttoned her white shirt, reaching in to free her from
her lace bralette, and taking one of her tits fully into his mouth. She threw her head back with
a moan as she worked to unbutton his trousers.

Once she pulled out his cock and felt how hard he was, she wasted no time sliding her panties
aside and lowering herself onto him. He’d been continuing his ministrations on her nipples,
but let go to moan in unison with her at the union of their bodies after so long.

She rode him hard, and they kissed passionately the entire time, stopping only for breath. She
came easily, and he allowed her to fully ride out her orgasm, kissing and caressing every inch
of her that he could touch.

She felt like a fucking queen.

Finally, once she was done, he wrapped his arms tightly around her and stood. (The leg
muscles on this one! Unprecedented!)

“Disillusion us,” he said, “I want to take you to your bed and get my head between your legs,
and then I want to kiss every bit of skin on your body.”

She reached into her robes for her wand and performed the spell with ease. Still hard, and
still inside of her, Draco walked them back to her room, and did everything that he had
promised.
Chapter End Notes

and then they lived happily ever after? hmmmmmmm

 The Morning After Kill Joy
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Oh yes, children, it was ONE sweet night. But do you know what I must do now?

Of course you do... because these arseholes are so damn predictable...

The following morning found Hermione alone in her bed. She was sprawled out, completely
spent from an evening of incredible love making.

And it had truly felt that way!

They'd had romantic-ish encounters in the past, but nothing truly as transcendent as the
evening she'd just had.

He'd been gentle and open. He'd kissed her eyelids, for Pete's sake! Who kisses eyelids?!

Dudes in really romantic movies, that's who, and Hermione felt like her life was a movie.
With a really insane, but occasionally funny narrator.

So, when she woke, she expected him to come waltzing through her doorway with breakfast
in bed... that he'd prepared himself in her kitchenette, rather than rely on the school elves, of
course.

But something wasn't right. After she'd looked around at her room, the wan smile that had
previously seemed plastered to her face was suddenly gone, replaced by a look of startled
confusion.

If you can't picture that look, think about if you farted unexpectedly, and you were in public...
trying to play it off, but also surprised, and maybe a little bit impressed?

Except Hermione was not impressed.

She noticed that his clothes, that had been previously strewn about the room, were gone.
Well, she supposed that was normal. He could have put his clothes back on to go and make
bacon, it would certainly be the smart and safe move. Imagine the potential oil splatters!

But she smelt no bacon.

To add insult to lack of bacon smell, the box on her vanity table was open, appearing to have
been rifled through. Gathering the sheets up around her chest like all women in movies, she
strode over to inspect the situation. Sure enough, her bracelet from Draco was gone, as was
his poem, and...

She gasped. Her ring! She'd taken it off the night prior when she’d showered before her
rounds, and had forgotten to put it back on. Because you know… newly engaged people
always fiddle with their rings, having not yet accepted them as an extension of their bodies.
Hmmm, creepy idea, but it happens.

Why would he have taken it back? Had he thought she hadn’t been wearing it and taken
offense?

She scoffed aloud, incredibly annoyed at having to guess at where he was and what his
motives were.

"Lillian!" she yelled, suddenly, "Switch to his bloody point of view. If I can't know what the
bastard is thinking, at least everyone else can!"

You got it, Hermione. Btw that’s really generous of you!

“Yes, I’m extremely prone to being charitable when I’m trying to avoid my feelings, now piss
off to the other POV.”

Don’t have to ask me twice!

Or did you?

oOoOoOo

Draco arrived back at his dormitory and quickly reached into his robes to retrieve the gifts
he'd un-gifted Hermione just moments earlier.
He had woken up that morning so content, so warm, so in... he couldn't even bring himself to
say it.

After a few moments of reveling in the previous night, a sudden panic had overtaken him,
slapping him awake and sober.

The warning bells went off in his mind; it simply wasn’t ok for him to feel so satisfied.

She was still playing him. Somehow. She had to be.

He'd spotted the ring, glinting in the distance, and the decision had been made
instantaneously. He would take it back. She clearly hadn’t been wearing it, and he felt a rush
of foolishness flood over him just seeing it there. He'd pocketed it, and then noticed his other
gifts, turning BEET red upon remembering the poetry. Snatching that up for good measure,
he'd gathered his clothes and dressed in her common room before bolting back to the
dungeons.

As he shoved the items into a drawer, memories of all the times she had gotten one over on
him flew through his mind.

The whole, “Now put our baby inside me, Malfoy!” incident…

Her voice rang in his ears.

“Did… did you really think I meant it?”

He winced, just as the memory from the potions room joined his mental reel.

“I had sex with your father.”

A lie. It had been a lie. It had been so convincing. How could he tell the difference?

A few examples of how he had tricked and lied to her attempted to come to the surface, but
he batted them away, they were not important now.

There was no way he was going to allow himself to be taken in by this witch one more time.
To be duped.

To lose... well, anything.

Or anyone.

He stripped down in the bathroom and got into a hot shower, but after not too long, he
noticed that he was cold. No matter what he did, or how hot he made the water, his body was
covered in goosebumps. His breathing had become rather shallow, as well. Feeling all at once
like he wanted to run as fast as he could, and hide in a ball under the covers, he found himself
bracing with an arm on the shower wall, attempting to take a full breath. The air just wouldn't
cooperate.

Eventually, he got out, dressed, and walked himself right to the hospital wing. He could take
a chance on using his own herbal remedy, but if he was honest, he was rather scared and
confused about what was happening to him and wanted to speak to someone who would
know.
He was scared and confused... on multiple levels.

oOoOoOo

For the next week, he was confined to a private room in the hospital wing. Apparently, Poppy
Pomfrey had gained a bit of a soft spot for Draco, because she felt it best that Draco have
some privacy. Though, this was largely due to the fact that, in his weakened state, he’d been
keen on lashing out at any other student that came in.
Terry Boot's poor little cousin Kyle got a kick in the nose when he’d entered and proclaimed
that he would not share the wing with a death eater.

Madame Pomfrey admitted openly that, a boot to a Boot’s face was, pretty frickin funny.

When she finally allowed Draco to go, she sent him off with a muggle remedy, which had a
similar effect on him to the potion that he'd made.

Only, it must have been a different type, because he didn't feel increased fondness for
Granger when taking it... he simply was able to check out of his current feelings, and float on.

And float on he did.

Apparently, he had had a panic attack, and according to the mind healer that they’d brought
in to speak with him, it was extremely common to experience those after a loss.
“But which loss am I panicking about?” Draco had wondered aloud to the mind healer.

The mind healer had done a bit of digging, and had gotten the full story about Hermione
Granger.

Oh yes, the WHOLE sordid story! (His favorite part was when Kreacher kissed and threw a
peace sign at Draco, followed closely by the old horny McGonnagal stuff, but I digress.)

After hearing it all, the healer told Draco that anything could trigger him into having another
panic attack, but that if he knew that this Miss

Granger was a trigger, then he should stay far away from her, at least for the time being.

Fucking shrinks, huh?

For once in his life, Draco was all too happy to follow directions.

oOoOoOo

Over the next few months, Draco did just that. He took his classes from his room, and
avoided her at mealtimes. She attempted to talk to him on a number of occasions, but he had
feigned ignorance and moved along.

Being totes stoned most of the time helped with this.

He could register the disappointment in her face, but didn’t have to let it penetrate his heart.

Acting. She was acting. He told himself this quietly, even though he hardly needed the
reassurance, he was pretty numb.

oOoOoOo

This went on. And on and on. Hermione was so hurt, she could hardly function. Her entire
life had seemed to unravel, and the only thing she could think about was him.

Alas… salvation, thy name is NEWT!

Being able to bury herself in her studies had always been her best coping mechanism, and
what better time to utilize it. Potentially the greatest heartbreak of her life was occurring,
concurrent with the most important exams she would take in her life. The level of grandiosity
was equal, and so she settled in and did what she knew how to do best: pretend she didn’t
care about anything but school.

oOoOoOo

Lucius Malfoy sat in his study, holding a copy of The Daily Profit and sneering like nobody’s
business.

“A Fake Malfoy Engagement?” the headline read.

Major Uh oh. *salutes*

It came to pass that after Draco was back at school, and apparently hospitalized for some
time, yet alone… the students finally became suspicious about whether the Granger/Malfoy
engagement was real. They’d all been so caught up being angry about it, that they’d never
thought to consider its validity until now.

A fine time for them to get nosy, Lucius thought as he skimmed the article.

But he would show them.

Not a real engagement, eh? Well, how about a wedding. Would that satisfy their puny little
minds?

Lucius thought of the little Boot boy, quoted in the article, and sneered anew.

“I’ll invite him to the ceremony just to Boot his little face in,” he said aloud. “Come at me,
Kyle.”

“Sorry, Sir?” a tiny elf voice squeaked from somewhere in the room.

“Not now, Bibbles… Daddy is busy,” Lucius said, as he took out a quill and parchment to
pen letters to his child, and… future child. In-law.

oOoOoOo

Hermione allowed her heart to hope, just for a moment, when the letter had arrived. Upon
opening it, she saw that it was from the wrong Malfoy man. Her would-be scandal-partner, as
it were. She grudgingly opened it up, feeling that this couldn’t be anything positive.

Miss Granger,

The media have taken it upon themselves to get nosy about our affairs.

Not, OUR affair, of course, that was all conjecture, but you obviously know that. There
WAS no affair. Do you hear me, owl post representative that is surely checking all of my
mail, THERE WAS NO AFFAIR!

As I was saying, Miss Granger, there are rumors spreading about that you and Draco are
not, in fact, engaged, and that the whole thing is a farce.

Due to that fact, I wanted to write you this missive in order to confirm that you would be
traveling to The Manor™ upon completion of the school year, so that you can get settled
in prior to the wedding.

Because there WILL be a wedding! Mark my words, post owl employee… or, on second
thought, ministry representative that is working with the owl post. I am RESOLUTE in
this proclamation, that my son is madly in love with this muggleborn girl, and against all
of his good breeding, has chosen her for a wife! And I, Lucius Malfoy, have had a
change of heart where muggleborns are concerned, and am ready to accept her into my
 arms as my own. Not, into my arms in a romantic sense, you see, but in a fatherly one. A
healthy father-in-law/daughter relationship, yes indeed.

Very good, then, Miss Granger, this concludes my message to you, and I look forward to
our time together. With Draco, not just with you and I, but all three of us. Not in that
way, though, that sounds strange. I only mean to say… you are family now, in my eyes.

With Appropriate Love,

Lucius Malfoy

Hermione had unwittingly re-read the letter four times before believing it. For a moment, she
found herself thinking that Lucius Malfoy had lost his mind.

Eventually, however, she realized that the man was grieving. Grief came out in strange ways
for people. This was something she’d learned just by observing Harry over the years. He had
carried so much…

And now, he seemed to have taken up being a complete narcissistic cock and balls, as a
coping mechanism.

Well, she supposed that perhaps she had her own version of that. After all, she had strolled up
to her former bully and ACTUAL representative of a hate group that had staked their lives on
killing people like her… and demanded that they fuck.

Perhaps she was not only more Slytherin than she’d ever thought… but perhaps grief brought
on a shift in character for people. She became more Slytherin, while Draco and Lucius were
becoming… more Hufflepuff.

Her eyes were alight with this new distinction, and she could not wait to write it all out after
her NEWTs were over.

Living at The Manor™ would be interesting. Perhaps she’d get her own wing?

Even if Draco refused to speak to her, she would finally get to spend time in the library that
she’d only been granted cursory glances of thus far.

She could bury herself in books until the wedding. She could find a way to co-exist
harmoniously with the two grieving men. She could work on her plans for the house elves,
which was the entire point of this anyway.

And that was the moment when it hit her.

The house elves. Working for a cause. She’d said it to the narrator earlier, but it had been
glossed over and forgotten…

Charity.

THAT was her coping mechanism.

 Well, that and some GOOD Slytherin dick, but in lieu of the dick… she always had her
causes.

Her commitment to the cause seemed empty in the light of this revelation.

Especially because she knew that a large percentage of said house elves hated her, and would
likely stop at nothing to end her efforts to help them.

She knew it, and yet she fought anyway.

Because she needed the cause.

Hermione needed the cause more than the cause needed her.

But DAMN it feels good to be a martyr.

She shook herself. It was all well and good to think these things, but she had to get back to
playing them out in her life. Less self-examination, more useless plotting and stuffing of
feelings. Huzzah!

oOoOoOo

* Tiny time jump past a whole lot of boring shit that doesn’t advance the plot. You’re
welcome *

The NEWTs were over, and both Draco and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief at that. School
was officially complete for the both of them. Now, they could escape to The Manor™ and
stop having to put up with… well, everything!

On their way out of the school, McGonnagal threw each of them separate, knowing winks.

It was like she knew something, but didn’t want to give away the secret.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but waved goodbye.

Draco wrote it off as a tick.

They both probably should have related to this moment as more monumental, but to be
perfectly honest, they couldn’t have been more done with Hogwarts. It was on to life now.
Wonderful, fake married life, with someone they loved, who did not love them back.

And now it’s our turn to roll our eyes.

Chapter End Notes

*EYE ROLLLLLL*
 Underneath the Stars
Chapter Summary

"Underneath The Stars" by Mariah Carey

One summer night

We ran away for a while
Laughing, we hurried beneath the sky
To an obscure place to hide
That no one could find

And we drifted to another state of mind

And imagined I was yours and you were mine
As we lay upon the grass there in the dark
Underneath the stars
Young love
Underneath the stars

Weak in the knees

Wrapped in the warm gentle breeze
So shy
A bundle of butterflies
Flushed with the heat of desire
On a natural high

As we drifted to another place in time

And the feeling was so heady and sublime
As I lost my heart to you there in the dark
Underneath the stars
Young love

Beautiful and bittersweetly

You were fading into me
And I was gently fading into you
But the time went sailing by
Reluctantly we said good-bye
And left our secret place so far behind
And I lay in bed all night and I was
Drifting drifting drifting drifting

And I was yours

And you were my own
My own baby
As we lay
 As we...
Lay underneath the stars

Chapter Notes

Early update because I FREAKIN LOVE YOU PEOPLE

Listen to that song while you read. Please do this for me.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Ok lovelies, this is it. Last chapter before the epilogue. Buckle up, because we are going on a
wild ride. And when I say wild, I mean more sincere than anything you have read so far.
Ready?

3…

2…

1.

Hermione’s move into the manor was rather uneventful, given that she had no friends or
family to say goodbye to, and house elves had taken care of all her packing. This was,
obviously, done completely without her knowledge and against her will.

“I truly do not see what you are complaining about, the elves are free and paid handsomely,”
Lucius said to her shortly after she’d freaked the fuck out at finding all of her things artfully
transferred from her childhood bedroom into her private suite at The Manor™. They were
standing in the middle of her room, where he’d come to call after hearing of her
dissatisfaction.

She opened her mouth to retort, but the words lost steam half way out, and she shrugged
instead. “I suppose you are right,” she said.

Lucius regarded her with a slightly startled, quizzical look. Never having been in the position
of hearing his future daughter-in-law make such a staggering claim, the man had no idea how
to reply. Instead, he turned to the wall to his right, her left, and said, “this is a passageway to
Draco’s quarters.”

She looked over at the dark mahogany wall panel he was motioning towards, and back at
Lucius with a raised brow.

“Simply press your hand into the wood, it will only respond to his betrothed. This is a magic
that has been built into the house, you see. Pureblood etiquette dictates that no betrothed
couple should share a bed prior to a marriage, and this was created for the ability to keep up
appearances without caving to that unsavory rule.”

Hermione’s face crinkled up in disgust just thinking about all of the ridiculous rules
Purebloods probably had in place that she didn’t even know about yet. That line of thought,
however, was just a distraction. What she was really crinkled up about was her assuredness
that she wouldn’t be using the passageway anytime soon.

“Though, I suspect that you and Draco are-”

“Not speaking, yes,” she finished his sentence.

Lucius nodded. “I see.”

Hermione cleared her throat nervously, and an awkward silence descended upon the room.

Just as she began to hope he would leave, Lucius seemed to get the hint and turned on his
heel. It was rather cold and abrupt, but then, the man had been supremely odd as of late, and
Hermione had to write it off as grief weirdness.

“Bibbles will get you anything you need, he is a veritable manual for how to get around the
estate, and as I remind you, he is well paid and quite happy to be serving our family.”

A rush of heat flew through Hermione upon hearing the words “our family.”

I mean, can you fucking imagine? Standing in Malfoy Manor in your own private suite and
being told point blank that you are part of the family. Isn’t this all of our fucking dreams right
here? I would keel over immediately, tbh.

Hermione recovered quickly and said, “Very well, thank you.”

Before Lucius had made it through the door, however, she called out, “Will I need to write
vows? For the ceremony?”

Lucius turned, his hand on the doorframe as he gazed back at her.

“You do not have to; the standard vows can be used. I will inform the officiant in confidence
of the nature of your pairing with Draco, and ensure that he doesn’t overdo it with too
much… lovey dovey stuff?” The words left Lucius’s mouth slowly, almost against his will,
and he then crinkled his brow, tilted his head, and awkwardly left the room.

“Thank you,” Hermione said quietly after he’d shut the door.

Then she looked over at the panel of the wall Lucius had indicated. She stood there staring at
it for a long time, until she started to feel like a bit of a psychopath and decided to have a bath
and go to bed instead. She had a lot of books to explore, and was too exhausted to even think
of making it to the library.

The bubble bath she drew was epic. Everything about being there was epic, except, of course,
for her love story that would never be.
 oOoOoOo

They’d been living in Draco’s childhood home, together yet separate, for a week. The
wedding was still a few weeks away, as Lucius had wanted time to build up some media
hype, and have people stop doubting that the Malfoy family was reformed.

So far so good, on that front. The sheeple truly ate whatever they were fed, and the story of
Hermione moving in with the Malfoy’s had dashed any hope of the previous story about their
farce taking hold.

Hermione spent her days with books, and taking meals wherever she pleased. It would have
been fine to stay in the library, but she wanted to avoid the possibility of seeing Draco. He’d
never approached her or apologized for disappearing, in fact it was like she was a ghost to
him, and she couldn’t bear the way it felt to be in proximity to him, but not be able to
connect.

So, she found a variety of lovely places to sit and read. There was a crop of trees that her
suite had a clear view of, and she’d ventured out to it right away, to find that there was a soft
patch of grass, perfect for lounging, under the shade of a sprawling, storybook-style cathedral
oak.

Google it, these trees are wild. Whimsical af.

The grass seemed to have magical influence on it, causing it to feel softer than any she had
ever set bare feet on. She went out to those trees most days, though she did try to vary her
positioning. She spent some time in a gazebo near the late matriarch’s rose garden… RIP. She
also insisted on seeing Bibbles’s quarters and sometimes read in there. However, that would
inevitably turn unpleasant, because most of the other house elves who came in and our of that
area would mumble things under their breath about the mudblood’s influence on Lucius, and
then immediately punish themselves for speaking ill of a future family member. Even though
they were free, their magic still acted upon them. It was disturbing, and even more so because
Hermione realized with futile shock, that there was literally nothing she could do about the
ancient magic that governed these beings.

She tried not to think too much about her house elf aims, however. The realization that she’d
taken up the cause for her own gain had been quite a gut punch, and she hadn’t yet decided
what the point of her life could be, if not saving the un-savable.

Run-ins with Draco were non-existent, and there was a part of her that wondered if her
evasion tactics were working, or if he was employing his own. Perhaps a bit of both.

She had virtually erased the panel of the wall that she knew connected their rooms from her
vision, never sparing it a glance, though her subconscious pulled on her to gaze at it.

All the more reason to spend her time in the grassy grounds.

One evening, when she couldn’t sleep, she decided to take an off-the-usual-schedule stroll
out to her tree. As she approached, she could a whiff of a scent she had occasionally smelled
when making her rounds near the hospital wing. She squinted through the darkness, the
moonlight only partially aiding her journey, when she spotted a tiny glowing ember below the
oak. It ignited, and then went out.

A memory of her father smoking a cigar on the back patio during the summertime, with all
the lights off so as not to attract moths, flow into her memory.

Someone was smoking. Perhaps Lucius with a cigar of his own?

She highly doubted that Madame Pomfrey was a cigar enthusiast, however, and she knew the
scents didn’t match.

She approached slowly, but was stopped in her tracks when she heard his voice.

“Granger?”

She froze. She hadn’t heard him say her name since that one… sweet…. night.

A rustle from beneath the tree told her that he was standing and coming towards her. For once
in her life, she couldn’t think of anything to say. Though, on second thought, the narrator was
pretty sure Hermione had been speechless multiple times in the story so far, but whatevs, it
sounded good.

“You never come out here at night,” he said. It was a simple statement, not an accusation or a
question.

“You know that I come out here, then?”

He was moving towards her, she could feel him. The moonlight through the trees caught the
sharp angles of his jaws and cheekbone as he passed under its staggered branches.

“Why are you here?” He asked, clearly avoiding her question.

She felt her defenses bloom at the now accusatory tone he was taking.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said, not knowing at all why she was being honest with him. The prick
had taken his prick and run from her the last time she’d been open with him. Would she never
learn?

Do any of us learn? Ooooh yes, think about how many times you’ve been burned, only to
return to the hot stove. Let’s get some of your personal feelings involved here, reader.

Ok back to the emotional danger kitchen…

He took a drag of what she now realized, with a mental facepalm, was a joint. A cousin of
hers had tried to get her stoned one summer, and she’d never touched the stuff since.

After a long exhale he said, “Same.”

Then they stood there in a silence that was growing louder by the minute.
Eventually, she decided to break it by saying, “can I have some of that?”

Oh Merlin, she had no idea what she was doing or why she was doing it! He held it out to
her, and upon seeing her hesitation, he said, “have you ever…?”

“Only once, and a long time ago.”

He retracted it, and though he couldn’t see it clearly, her face fell. Then, he said, “I’ll blow it
I to your mouth, just inhale.”

And, taking another drag, he leaned forward and cupped her cheek the way he had in the hall
when she’d found him on her rounds. His lips ghosted over hers as he blew the smoke into
her mouth, and she sucked in the air obediently. He repeated it one more time, and on the
second go she began to cough as she exhaled.

The sensation that came over her was nothing like the first time she’d tried it, and she
wondered if she’d done it wrong then. Perhaps she hadn’t properly inhaled.

A blanket of calm enveloped her, and she rather liked it.

“The grass here is insanely soft,” she said.

He looked around and then back at her. “It’s charmed.”

“I thought it might be,” she said.

Then he turned back to the forest clearing and sat down. She found that she didn’t need to
question it, but followed her instinct to go and sit beside him.

She gazed up at the stars that were visible through the trees.

“Late nights in July are the best time to see my constellation,” he said. Then he pulled out his
wand and cast a non-verbal spell that created a sort of screen above them, and she gasped at
the sudden appearance of dazzling white light, forming a diagram. She could see the outline
of the dragon with all of its stars labeled.

“How have I never seen this spell before?” she asked.

“Would’ve been useful in astronomy class,” he said.

“Or just for independent study!” she said, gazing around at the sky through the conjured
screen.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could swear he was smiling at her, but when she looked
back he had turned his head.

“It’s a Black family spell, I’m sure it’s not widely known. My mother made me swear not to
use it in school.”
Her slight intake of breath was not missed by him. The mention of his mother hadn’t been
intentional, and she felt the air between them tighten.

She sat beside him, still gazing up at the star dragon in the sky. “I suppose it’s nice to have
some family secrets,” she found herself saying.

Hermione had a secret from her family instead, which wasn’t something she let herself think
about too much… but the time felt right to do some thinking out loud. No, not the Ed Sheeran
song, that wouldn’t come out for over a decade.

“Do you know about what happened to my parents?”

He spun his head around quickly, her statement breaking through whatever thoughts he’d
been contending with. “What happened to them? No. I only know-” he said, but then cut
himself off.

“You know what?’ she asked.

He cleared his throat nervously, looking briefly at the ground before seemingly forcing
himself to face her.

“I know that they weren’t in their home when Voldemort sent the death eaters to capture
them.”

She could see the scene in her mind, with her little house being raided. She wondered who’d
been there. Bellatrix? That gross werewolf whose name escapes me?

“Right,” she said. “Were you… did you go there?”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t sent out on missions. He mostly kept me around to torture me as
punishment for my parents.”

She felt anger bubble up inside her at this.

He lit the joint and took another hit, this time handing it to her. She took it from him and
copied his movements. No cough on her exhale this time. What a pro. What a champ.

“That’s so fucked up,” she said.

“Indeed,” he replied.

After a long silence, she spoke into the night, without looking at him. “I erased myself from
my parent’s memories and sent them to live in Australia under new aliases. I’m quite sure it’s
something I cannot undo.”

She could feel him staring at her for sure this time.

“Fuck, Granger,” he said.

“Indeed,” she replied.

They stayed there discussing her parents and the memory charm. Eventually they began
talking about their childhoods, sharing stories, relating more than they’d ever expected to,
both being only children.

Their parents shared the same high expectations of them.

“You were the absolute bane of my existence from day one, Granger. You have no idea.”

“Um, excuse me, I think I have a pretty good idea. You did torment me for years,
remember?”

“Well, you deserved it. It was like your only goal in life was to make me second best in every
class.”

“Oh, I love how delightfully narcissistic you are; yes of course, my good grades were part of
a larger plot to make your life miserable. I knew that, to your parents, it would be the ultimate
failure to be beaten by a mudblood.”

He blinked and shook his head as if to say, “shit, gurl, you WENT there.”

What he actually said was, “Point taken, I am absolutely a narcissist. I think that I come by
the trait honestly, you know my mother’s name.”

Then he cleared his throat nervously again and added, “what her name was,” under his
breath.

They sat in silence for a while. She looked down at his hand on the weirdly soft grass next to
her and felt the urge to take it.

That wasn’t the plan, though. Since arriving in the clearing, she had decided to simply speak
to him like a colleague or friend. He was neither and both at once. She couldn’t give herself
to him physically again. At least, not until she fully understood where he was at, which could
take a while. Let’s face it, the boy was going THROUGH it. No, she would give him some
time. In the interim, it was actually nice to talk to him. It was something they never really
did, unless you counted dirty talk while trying to get one another to come. Because if that
counted, then they had talked a LOT.

“It’s getting late,” she said finally, standing up and brushing off her legs. He stood as well,
shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I’ll see you to your room,” he said, and she did her best to hide a smirk. Pureblood etiquette
was hilarious coming from him. Also, his room was rather close to hers, so wasn’t it just
obvious that he would walk with her there?

Well, whatever, she walked back with him. They didn’t speak the whole time, and somehow
it wasn’t awkward. It just…. was.

“Night, Granger,” he said casually as he continued walking past her once they’d reached her
door.
“Goodnight, Draco,” she said, and she could swear he stopped walking for the slightest
moment upon hearing his given name, but he kept going and disappeared around a corner.

It was past midnight, but she drew herself a bath before getting in bed. She needed some time
to wrestle with her thoughts. She wondered if he was doing the same.

oOoOoOo

Draco’s bathwater was running. (Oh shit, look at that, he totally was).

He stood in the center of his bedroom, staring at the part of the wall he knew led to her room.

He supposed that she didn’t have a reason to play him now, and it would also be pretty
fucked up of her, given that his mom had JUST died. Still, he didn’t want to risk throwing
himself into another episode. The weed was keeping his panic at bay for the time being,
though he’d felt a few flutters of it threaten to overtake him during their conversation.

Essentially, at any mention of his mother... which had been frequent... and often because of
him.

Hmm.

Well, he’d save that little moment of introspection for his next session with the mind healer.

For now, it seemed smart to not engage with her physically. If they had to cohabitate, they
might as well become friendly. After all, it was a step they had skipped. On purpose.

Besides, he found that, minus all the sex, he enjoyed her company.

With one final glance at the wall, and a moment recalling her use of his given name when she
said goodnight, he retreated to the bathroom to soak in the warm water and let any remaining
thoughts melt away.

Btw, “Melt Away” is also a Mariah song. More of a B-side, but go give it a listen.

oOoOoOo

These nighttime conversations became more frequent over the next two weeks. Not at first, as
Draco was a little too tender to risk running into her right away. Three nights after the initial
meeting, he went to the clearing and found her already there.

She had cast the Black family charm and was laying on her back admiring the sky. When she
heard him coming, she started, and quickly undid the spell.

As if he hadn’t already seen it. He rolled his eyes as she stood and faced him like a petrified
first year.

“I found a book in the library!” she said quickly.

“Non-Dark Black Magic?” he said, “Yes, I’ve read it multiple times.”

She stared back, clearly expecting him to be angry.

He reached into his pocket and retrieved his small box containing his stash. As he lit a fresh
joint, he said, “If we weren’t comfortable with you having access to it, it would have been
removed. And in any case, you are family now. Or will be soon.”

Even though it was dark, he knew he’d made her cheeks flush. He got a whoosh of nostalgia
for their mind games.Even though, of course, he hadn’t been playing. She WAS about to be
part of his family. Forever.

He wondered idly why it didn’t bother him more that this huge life decision had essentially
been made for him. His thoughts were interrupted by her voice.

“Right, um… I… that makes sense.”

Then she resumed her place on the ground and recast the spell.

He followed and handed her the joint as he lay down next to her to share her perspective.

“It’s always in the sky,” she said. He knew what she meant immediately, but perhaps he
wanted to hear her say it again…

“What is?” he therefore asked.

“Draco,” she said, pointing up at the stars with her wand, and causing it to highlight his
celestial namesake.

He allowed a full smile this time, knowing that she wasn’t focused on him anyway.

(she was)

“Yea, this is just a particularly good position for it,” he said.

After the words left his mouth, his mind immediately went to sexual positions and he had to
force it out of that line of thinking. He wondered if hers had gone there.

(it had)

Out of the blue, she asked, “Do you know much about astrology?”

“The branch of divination?”

“I mean, sure. The centaurs certainly were well versed in it, but there’s a big to do about it in
muggle culture.”

“Muggles doing divination?!”

“Mmm hmm,” she replied earnestly. “I think some of them really have something, but don’t
you dare repeat that to anyone.” Her voice grew suddenly forceful and serious. “Imagine
what it would do to my reputation if people know I believed in astrology.”
“You don’t think you’re already damaging your reputation by marrying me?”

“On the contrary, I think people will respect me even more in the end.”

The words had left her mouth so quickly that he felt she might not have intended them to.

(she hadn’t)

Another long silence fell between them before she said, “so anyway, when is your birthday?”

“June 5th,” he said.

She thought for a moment before shouting, “You’re a gemini?!”

He recoiled, confused. “Umm, if you say so?”

“Merlin's saggy bollocks, that makes SO much sense!!!”

She went on to explain to him all the traits of a gemini, and he had to admit, it did sound a lot
like him. She also shared with him, upon his request, her own star sign and the characteristics
that were also strangely accurate.

“I’m quite sure we are two signs that are intended to avoid one another,” she added.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, there are these predictions about the different signs that go beyond their traits. It can
also tell you a lot about who… who you will be compatible with.”

She turned her head to look at him after she finished saying this, and as he was already facing
her, this put their faces very close together.

“And?” he said. “Are we meant to be… compatible?”

He left that pause in there on purpose.

“I can’t recall what the books say.”

“Oh my, there’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear Hermione Granger say.”

Her breath caught in her chest at the sound of her name, he saw it happen.

“Yes, well, it’s not like I read it for a class. I don’t memorize for enjoyment,” she said,
recovering quickly.
“No, only to seem smarter than me, which is your master plan. Fairly soon, people will be
referring to you as my better half, and your life’s work will be achieved.”

This made her begin to giggle. It wasn’t just the weed, Draco thought he’d never heard a
more beautiful sound. He’d never been with her like this before. All carefree and content.
And he felt that way too. More so than when he smoked alone, for sure.
They stayed there for three more hours that night, talking about everything from classes and
professors, to their dating histories. Draco inquired about the star signs of various people,
only stymied by their shared inability to remember certain birthdays. (btw Snape is SUCH a
Capricorn)

“He was my Godfather, you know.”

“I didn’t know that,” she replied, feeling an intuitive hit that this would probably be their last
topic of conversation before heading to bed.

“Yea, some godson I was to him,” he said, allowing far more disdain into his voice than he
perhaps would have sober.

He didn’t look at her face, but he imagined that she was staring at him quizzically, so he went
on.

“I could have saved him. I could have gotten us all out, but I was so-” he stopped himself,
gritting his teeth.

She sat up and turned to face him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye.

“Draco, you do know that Snape was in love with Harry’s mother, right?”

Draco thought for a moment. “Oh, right. He told me that, but it was back in chapter six, I
almost forgot I knew.”

“I know what you mean, it’s hard to keep all the details straight.”

They both simultaneously turned to look at me, to which I replied thusly: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Well, regardless,” he said, “unrequited love or not, I still think I could have prevented his
death.”

“Draco Malfoy,” she said, and he felt his stomach swoop. “Who knew you held such a high
bar for yourself?”

He scoffed by way of reply, and she giggled again.

“Thanks for noticing, Hermione.”

She could poke fun at him all she wanted, as long as she kept making that sound. Though in
that moment, her giggles had mysteriously stopped, but he wasn’t sure why.

oOoOoOo

It was fine, Hermione was telling herself. She was only forming a friendship. Arguably, it
was the most logical thing for her to do. The fact that it also felt like she was careening off
the train tracks into a rocky ravine, was something she would just have to deal with at a later
date. At present, she was living for her stoned nighttime hangs with Draco. It was the most
fun she could remember having since before the war.
She would focus on that part: the fun.

It was the night before their wedding, and she found herself heading out once again to the
field, even though they needed to be up early for preparations.

Bibbles was gonna be pissed. He would have to get over it, she knew she wouldn’t be able to
just go to sleep, and she suspected that neither would he.

Sure enough, she found him already there, and he was casting bluebell flame spells into jars
that he’d laid out in a circle. She grinned.

“I see you’ve been practicing.”

“Are you joking? You think I was going to let that little incident go?”

Hermione had shown him the spell, after telling him the story about lighting Snape’s cape on
fire, and Draco had been woefully unable to cast it two nights ago. She looked around at all
the jars.

“So showing me you could cast the spell once wasn’t enough, you had to do it seven times
for good measure?”

It was his turn to grin. “You know me and my high bar.”

She walked around the circle, pretending to scrutinize each flame. Turning to face him, she
said, “Well cast.”

He gave a mock bow, and moved to the middle of the circle where he sat down and began
lighting a joint. She sat down to join him.

“Very well, it seems you deserve to hear that story I refused to divulge.”

He looked at her with the most honest expression of joy she’d ever seen on him.

“This is my reward for making fire?!”

She shrugged. “The jars jogged my memory.”

Then, she proceeded to tell him every detail of her relationship with and eventual entrapment
of Rita Skeeter, making sure to pause and chastise Draco for helping the horrible cow.

After that, Draco demanded to know all other breaking the rules stories, but she adamantly
refused.

“If I tell you everything now, what secrets will I have to divulge throughout our marriage? I’ll
get boring if you know everything upfront.”

Draco smiled at this, but didn’t put up a fight. It was a good thing too, because she intended
to hold onto the polyjuice story until at least their ten year anniversary.
They lay there in silence for a while, both taking another hit or two.

“I really don’t know why I’m not more panicked about tomorrow,” he said, and she looked at
him with wide eyes. The sincerity in his voice was doing peculiar things to her insides.

He went on. “I went along with this… this deal… mainly because I wanted to lessen stress on
my mother. But she’s gone now, so-”

“So you don’t want to go through with it?”

“No,” he replied rather forcefully, “that’s exactly what I mean, I… I’m not at all worried
about what happens next.”

She listened, rather hesitantly, trying to decipher what it was he was telling her.

“Are… are you saying you’re apathetic about your future? Because, Draco, that would be
really understandable, considering what you’ve been though.”

“No, you’re misunderstanding me,” he said, “and frankly, Hermione, I am fucking sick of
being misunderstood by you.”

“And I you,” she said just as forcefully as his “no.”

“Fine,” he said, and sat up properly to face her, sitting criss cross applesauce. “Let’s speak as
plainly as possible, right now.”

“Fine,” she said, copying his movements.

They just stared at each other. Eventually, they both spoke at once.

“Go on.”
“Me?!”
“You’re the one who-”

But on the third one, they both started laughing. Once they had recovered, he said, “Alright, I
suppose I’m the one who brought it up, so I’ll go first.”

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded. He took a deep breath as well, and then looked her
straight in the eyes.

“You terrify me, Hermione. Not because you could produce flames in first year, or that you
trapped a tiny beetle woman in a jar, though those things do qualify you are terrifying, just to
be clear.”

She smiled, but didn’t want to say anything that might distract from his point.

“You terrify me, because…”

It took him a few more moments to actually finish this sentence, and Hermione sat quietly
waiting until eventually, he came out with it.”
“You terrify me, because I think I could really love you. I think I already do, and yet, every
bone in my body is telling me I would be a fool to trust you.”

“Me?! What about you?! The last night we… spent… together, you up and left and stopped
speaking to me!”

“And I could give you a dozen examples of you doing something similar!”

“That was different!”

“Oh was it? How?”

“That was before I loved you! And a little bit after! Because you terrify me too, Draco
Malfoy!”

“Oh do I?”

“Yes, and not because you were a death eater and not because you were always one test score
away from besting me. You terrify me because I can’t seem to fall out of love with you. No
matter what I do, I just keep falling deeper. And I’m sick of lying to myself about everything,
because if I can’t admit this to myself, that means I have to lie about everything.”

Without even realizing it, they had both stood during these overtures, and were standing
inches apart.

“You love me?” he said.

“You heard me,” she replied. “And you love me.”

“I said I think I do, yes.”

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re just being protective,” she
mumbled.

“Can you blame me?!” he shouted

“No, I can’t!” she shouted back.

He was crossing his arms too, neither looking at the other.

Finally, he said, “Since I’m certain you’ve looked it up by now, what do the books* say about
a Virgo/Gemini match?”

She looked up, surprised to find his face open and sincere. After a moment, she recalled the
lines she had read at least twenty times.

“Gemini is not someone Virgo can trust. When Virgo starts doubting and analyzing
everything, Gemini will simply fly away, in the best case scenario.”

He laughed. “Well, if that isn’t accurate…”

 She allowed a smile and continued. “The relationship of Gemini and Virgo can change as the
wind, while both partners get lost and found on a daily basis. They both tend to overthink
things instead of following their hearts.”

She was looking at the ground as she said this, and her belly did a flip as she saw his hands
reach out to graze hers, their fingertips ghosting over each other.

“I feel as though overthinking has become my only option where you are concerned,” he said.
She could feel his breath on her cheek now. She lifted her head and felt his lips graze her
jawline, as a shuddering breath left her lips.

“What does your heart say, Draco?” she nearly whispered.

He entwined their fingers and whispered back, “That you could ruin me. That you already
have.”

She giggled and traced her lips along his jawline, stepping closer so that their bodies were
touching.

“What else?” she asked.

She could hear him smiling as he said what he said next.

“That I love you. Completely and entirely.”

She pulled back to look him in the eyes, where she thought she saw tears beginning to pool,
just before some dropped from her own eyes.

“I love you so much, Draco,” she said, her voice breaking.

Then he leaned in and brought their lips together in a chaste, yet meaningful kiss. After
breaking the kiss, they wrapped their arms around each other and stood there in a tight
embrace for a very long time.

Eventually, they let go and looked once again into one another’s eyes.

“Can we please promise not to be stupid anymore?” she asked.

“Pinky swear?” he replied.

They both laughed.

“I think wedding vows will do, come to think of it,” she said. He smiled and nodded in
agreement, and then they simultaneously turned to head back to The Manor™ hand-in-hand.

Chapter End Notes

* When I say books, I -of course- mean astrology websites. You can really get lost in
this one. Have at it while you wait on the epilogue. https://www.astrology-zodiac-
signs.com/compatibility/gemini-virgo/
 ep·i·logue
Chapter Notes

HERE WE GOOOO!!!!!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

ep·i·logue
noun
a section or speech at the end of a book or play that serves as a comment on or a conclusion
to what has happened.*

*Thank you google

“SPEECH! SPEEEEECH!” all you readers cried as you groped and grasped at me for more
story.

Alright alright, you animals! Sit down, yeah that’s right you, get back! Give me some air, I
need to see what I need to say here.

Ok so, first of all, let’s think about how far we have come, yeah? At the beginning of this
thing we just thought we were in for some classroom bangin (hate-bangin, that is) and some
nasty pillow talk. Who knew we would end up here?!

In love, twu wuv.

Breaking to heal.

Dying to bone…

but with love this time.

Love that they are both conscious of, and choosing. THAT is a part I think y’all will want to
see before we flash forward five years or something, right? Ok let’s see their wedding night
then, shall we?

(~oogly boogly transition sounds~)

The ceremony had been idyllic. The party afterwards, a dream.

It was like they’d both been transported to some other fucking planet, on which life was
bright and normal. In which they could be happy (Aside from the dead mom thing, and the
dashed SPEW dream thing. You know.)
They both needed to do their shared amount of grieving and healing, but… for once in their
adult lives, they had let their guards down, and were finding that they rather liked it.

The shock on Lucius Malfoy’s face when they each pulled out personalized vows that they
had prepared was… adorable. Aww Lucy! He was so moved. Can you picture it? Cuz I can!

Draco spoke French in some of his, and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought to pull that out as
a sexy characteristic of his in this story before. Oh well, I’ll save that for the sequel.

WHAT? I never promised you a sequel, shut your mouths. It’s so rude of you to just assume I
have time for something like that!

Back to the wedding night…

Hermione was laying back on Draco’s bed, green silk sheets sliding beneath her as he
wrapped his arms around her thighs and pulled her a bit closer.

It was just like their first time, only with feelings.

He slid his tongue between her folds and she moaned softly, almost to herself.

She reached down and slid her fingers through his hair. (Seriously, how did he keep it so
soft?!) He responded by looking up at her, and the sight of his grey eyes staring back at her
sent chills absolutely everywhere. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him like that. Had he
always been looking and she hadn’t been paying attention? Yes, that was highly probable.

In that same moment he’d inserted a finger at just the right angle. (How did he always
manage that?) She felt her walls start to flutter as her first orgasm as a married woman came
crashing down upon her like waves when you really eat it while surfing. And he was eating
it, alright.

That is now officially my favorite line of smut in the history of my two years writing, thank
you.

As she rode out the remainder of her orgasm, he moved up to kiss her, which she never felt
one way or another about in the past, but noticed that it felt so incredibly intimate this time.
As she tasted herself on his tongue, he teased her entrance with the tip of his cock. She was
still so sensitive, and quivered at the contact. Then he slid himself inside her slowly,
continuing to kiss her.

Just as she was about to comment on how he was breaking from his original pronouncement
of almost one year prior, that he would ALWAYS get her off twice before servicing himself,
he said…

“I’m just going to leave this in here while I tell you all of the reasons that I love you, and you
are going to let me know when you’re ready to fuck my face, but this time, on top.”

She gasped at this new pronouncement, unable to wrap her head around it at all, and certainly
not as well as her cunt was wrapped around his head. (oh, foreplay wordplay!)
He was gently thrusting in and out of her, and began quietly reciting the following, in a
manner generally reserved for poets…

“Your fucking hair, it’s glorious. I’ve wanted to get my fingers caught in it since the first time
I saw you. I’ve come in my hand thinking about that more times than I could count.”

She moaned as her sensitivity began wearing off already, and a new orgasm began to build.

“You’re an enigma, I never understood why you weren’t in Ravenclaw, and now I’m rather
sure you should have been in Slytherin, but for the fucking house blood prejudce.”

She was surprised to find that she found this to be a high complement, and was momentarily
distracted from his hard throbbing length and what it was doing to her insides.

“You are smarter than I am, in every way possible, and I love it. I’m surprised that I love it,
too.”

At that, she put her hands on his hips to still his movements, and he looked up from where
he’d been sucking at her neck between words.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” she asked, her mouth agape and her chest heaving.

The signature Malfoy smirk appeared on his face and with heavily lidded eyes, he said, “I
said I love that you are smarter than I am; I’ve never respected anyone as much as I respect
you.”

For a while, they just stared at one another.

Finally, she said, “Get out of me, I need to fuck your face now.”

He pulled out obediently, but without his notice she had summoned her wand, and quickly
aimed it at him, casting two spells in quick succession. (You know the spells, y’all!)

Before he knew it, he was pinned to the mattress, and his voice was silenced. He tried to
scream in protest, but nothing came out.

“I told you I would never agree to ceasing the use of these spells and I meant it,” she said, as
she pointed her own wand at her throat and cast the no-gag reflex charm before bending over
him and shoving his aching cock into the back of her throat.

This went on for hours, then for the many days they spent in Greece for their honeymoon.
And then on and on for the rest of their time together until…

(~oogly boogly transition sounds~)

*the piercing cry of a tiny human*

Draco and Hermione both jolted up in bed, breathless and panicked.

“Fuck’s sake”
“Merlin’s sack!”

Their voices sang together in shared exhausted outrage in the dark.

“Your turn, Granger,” Draco growled.

“Must you keep calling me that?” she mumbled back in a sleepy haze.

“You kept your name, I get to keep calling you by it.”

*baby cries INTENSIFY*

Hermione grunted and pulled back her covers, making her way over to the little bassinet
inside which her Salazar forsaken spawn lay.

Don’t get me wrong, they both loved the shit out of this kid, but the sheer volume mixed with
her utter exhaustion had her seeing red.

Still, she reached in and cradled her little babe. Like always, as soon as she had her girl
nestled in her arms, a sense of relief washed over her.

Especially because little Lyra immediately stopped screaming.

Oh sweet bliss. She’d won the muggle lottery, somehow.

Over her shoulder, she heard her husband begin to snore anew.

Fair enough, she would have done the same if it had been his turn.

She crawled back into bed, popped her boob in the kid’s mouth, and settled into the green
satin bed coverings, thinking that she’d done alright for herself.

Even if SPEW had sort of just… fallen off… she had a family now.

Oh, and I totally buried the lead… she and Draco had landed a huge book deal. Shortly after
their wedding, and amidst all the love-banging, they had started research around the dark and
light sides of witches and wizards, what causes someone to turn dark, and how even the
supposed “light” side could turn a form of dark due to fame.

She and Draco even attended a muggle University to get their degrees in Psychology, further
shocking the wizarding world at both Hermione Granger’s choices, and Draco Malfoy’s
willingness to be affiliated with muggles and muggle borns.

The birth of their daughter had fallen just at the end of their book tour, and they were already
in talks for a follow up.

Fuckin cool, right?

But what about everyone else?

*ROLL END CREDITS*

“WHERE ARE THEY NOW?” style titles begin, with photos of each of the following...

That Creevy Cousin - Continued with his photography efforts, until he found himself in some
hot water. He was hired to take photos of a high up ministry official, who was having an
affair. Turns out that the official was also embezzling money and was embroiled with some
pretty seedy Knockturn characters, who then came after that cousin for the pics. They didn’t
want their ministry official dislodged. Creevy just BARELY escaped with his life and fled to
the states, where he became a photo journalist for HuffPo and later went on to be the head of
Listicles at Buzzfeed. His name never was and never will be known, but he gets a ton of hits,
likes and shares.

Neville Longbottom - Got really fuckin hot, but you knew that.

Ron Weasley - Drunk himself into a stupor after realizing that Hermione was actually
marrying Draco Malfoy. He did not contact her in any way, simply disappeared from auror
duties one day, and wasn’t seen for a few years. It did not escape people’s attention that he
was a major example/case study in Draco and Hermione’s book, and was likely horrifically
embarrassed by it all. A mass search for him occurred, and eventually Harry found him living
at the Atlantis Resort in the Bahamas, just riding the slide through the shark tank errday and
enjoying copious strawberry daiquiris. Eventually, he returned and took over the management
of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and while the store was well-patronized, no one ever really
cared about him again ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Harry Potter - He kept Pot Pot Potting on. You know how he do. Married Ginny and had
some cute babies, and then got caught up in a really bad fanfiction plot where he went back in
time to save Cedric Diggory and got lost forever. His son wanted to go, but his big fat head
wouldn’t let Albus have all the glory. So, he didn’t DIE, per say, but he’s not in this timeline
anymore ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Minerva McGonnagal - Inspired by the love story of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger,
Mcgonnagal tracked down her lost love. Actually, it was by COMPLETE chance on wizard
Tinder, but the story read better if she had done it on purpose. After all, it was CRAY to even
find him there, and of COURSE they both swiped right. The rest is history. Or future.
Depending on how you look at it. She and her old-but-hot Slytherin were and are huge fans
of the Malfoy-Granger book series, and the still headmistress is working hard to get Draco
and Hermione to come teach a class on their subject at Hogwarts. For the moment, the pair
are too consumed with child-rearing, but they consider it a potential future option for sure!

Blaise Zabini and Theo Knott - Well, they got their wish, however deviously. What we didn’t
know while witnessing that steamy wedding night scene earlier, was that Theo and Blaise
were in the secret corridor connecting Draco and Hermione’s separate rooms, getting a
REALLY good look at the post-nuptial sexy times. It was everything they’d ever dreamed of,
until Bibbles the house elf discovered them and promptly disapparated with them, dropping
the two unceremoniously outside the bounds of The Manor™ wards. Draco and Hermione
never found out, thank Salazar, and Theo/Blaise had a lovely time subtly referencing what
they’d seen that night at future dinner parties and balls… even at the baby shower. The banter
 and stifled giggles were EPIC. Also, they took credit for the Malfoy/Granger joining, and
were vocal about it with absolutely anyone who would listen, earning them quite a lot of
social clout. (They’re so funny and adorable, I’ll allow it).

Mariah Carey - Went on to be oddly amusing on Twitter, even recently tweeting out lyrics to
the very song that inspired Chapter 17… on the same week it came out.
https://twitter.com/MariahCarey/status/1308125992557441034?s=20
Is she a reader? Does she scour these sites for mention of her sweet 90’s tunes? This author
may never know.

Lilian Silver - Oh, me? Well, I just spent the last two months successfully writing a chapter of
fanfiction every week. And I did so without it having it be escapism. I have discovered that,
with enough planning and accountability, this is possible! And while this story began under
the influence of a great deal of marijuana and general chaos, it is closing with me being the
most calm and organized I have perhaps ever been in my life.

So much so that I even carved out time to create a special video for you readers. I admit, I did
something that no one should ever do: recorded myself singing a Mariah Carey song. I
absolutely cannot hit the notes at the end of of said song, but I did not let that get in the way
of delivering you a stunning end product. Also, I employed a makeshift Hermione costume,
as well as a cardboard cutout of a Slytherin we all adore, which I actually purchased a year
before this writing, with the intention of creating this video “one day.”

And that day, my lovelies, is today.

This is not available to the public, it is just for you, because I love you:
click me! hard!

Enjoy, and thank you from the bottom of my weirdo heart for following this story.

Could I have done it without you? My truest answer is… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Chapter End Notes

I TALKED TO YOU FROM INSIDE THE STORY AGAIN SO THIS PART IS KINDA
MOOT

BUT... I do need to say THANK YOU to littletheorist (on A03) for the alpha AND beta
support for this. What a fun story to connect on! And if you are into Matilda fanfic
(specifically a well-deserved Miss Honey lovestory)... go go go check out
littletheorist!!!!

See you all next Friday for chapter 2 of my fic "Torn" - which is based on a headcannon
about how, in the second film, Draco is seen ripping a page out of a book in Flourish and
Blott's. BUT WHY?!?!?! Could he be researching basilisks in order to save Hermione
Granger's life?! (yes, that's the plot, so I will just answer my own question. Yes.)
Chapter 1 is posted, go check it out!
Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!