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Even though Hermione was the only one of them to use the tiny kitchen in their shared living space at Hogwarts it grated on Draco Malfoy’s nerves that she left her damned mugs, plates, and other detritus from her food forays in the sink and upon the limited counter space until the evening to be seen to.
For some god forsaken reason the little swot preferred to do the dishes once she returned from her studies in the library or potions lab, the Muggle way, by hand.
He didn’t understand why she would want to do any chore by hand, especially when she was so adept at magic, he begrudgingly thought. Besides, if he kept bloody hours like hers he’d go absolutely mental with fatigue.
Coming back to Hogwarts after the defeat of Voldemort had been something he would have expected of the stupid Muggleborn, but to have to be Head Boy to her Head Girl had taken Draco by surprise. He knew McGonagall expected them to set an example of redemption or some such shite after their shared childhood adversarialism.
That she didn’t begin training at the ministry like Potter and Weasley, had been unexpected since the golden trio was as tight as the Weird Sisters in concert.
Secretly, he was relieved that so many of their schoolmates had returned after the war, it made it a bit easier for those who had lost so much.
He was happy not to return to Malfoy Manor after Lucius had been taken away to Azkaban along with the other surviving Death Eaters. They had been convicted for insurrection and war crimes by the Wizangamot and sent to rot in the maximum security prison.
Lucius’ attempts to contact his son both during and after the trial had met with nothing. Draco was finally free from his selfish, masochistic, pure blood, power obsessed horror of a sperm donor. He could make amends, move on, have a future, something he hadn’t even considered during those years of mere survival. It was so much more than so many had been given.
Without her husband, Narcissa Malfoy had seen little reason to stay in Wiltshire now that her own house arrest had come and gone. Draco had thought they might create a better home life together now that they were no longer under Lucius’ thumb. That perhaps the protective, motherly qualities that had characterized Draco’s younger days could bloom again. But Narcissa was fickle and her mothering days were past, she saw Draco as a meal ticket who could benefit from her guidance, and she was still quite a young attractive witch herself, so her options were many.
At first she had wanted Draco to move with her to France, but recognizing that he was no longer a child who could be manipulated by her machinations to find him a pure blood wife.
Draco would rather have time to discover who he truly was without the mantle of the Malfoy household and pureblood ideals barking at his heels. Part of that was returning to his old stomping grounds, Hogwarts. He could finally put his mind to good use, concentrate on studying for his N.E.W.T.S and being a teenager. Maybe even let his guard down and find a small bit of happiness within these hallowed halls that had been stained with the blood of so many innocents.
Granger had been a surprise he hadn’t counted on.
The proximity to someone he had derided and made it his mission to make miserable for the first half dozen years of schooling had taken the piss right out of him. He expected her to avoid him at all costs, but thus far they had quietly existed together without recriminations or acrimony. Seeing her day in and day out, sharing living and studying space in the dormitory had changed how they related to each other.
Neither of them mentioned what had happened at Malfoy Manor, long sleeves for both were de rigueur.
Blaise and Theo had come back for their final year along with a few other Slytherin friends of Draco’s, enough to go to Hogsmeade for Firewhisky and place some 3 on 3 Quidditch.
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Draco wasn’t sure what woke him, he had just dozed off after completing his reading for his potions N.E.W.T.S. He was the least worried about them since he seemed to have a natural affinity for potions and found the classwork to be both compelling and exacting.
Groggily, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes staring at the clock, was that water running that he was hearing? Rolling out of bed in his Slytherin green pajama pants, he pulled on a matching robe, with his wand in the pocket, and he walked to the door and opened it into the common area of their dorm. Squinting into the light he could see a silhouette of his frizzy haired roommate squirting soap onto a sponge as she cleaned each dish from the day and gently placed them onto the dishrack.
Before Draco could slink back into his room and the oblivion of sleep, brown eyes had found him lingering in his doorway.
“What are you doing up?” Hermione queried from the kitchen.
Draco glanced down at himself, his Dark Mark was visible and he felt caught out by Granger’s nonchalance. So, he answered her questions with one of his own.
“Why do you do them like that?”
Without waiting for a response, Malfoy flicked his wand and released a non-verbal spell causing the dishes Granger had been doing to appear sparkling clean and place themselves into the cabinets magically.
“Get some sleep bookworm.” Draco yawned as he closed his door.
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For the second night in a row, Draco awoke to the sound of the water, that blasted idiot Granger was doing the dishes after midnight AGAIN, why couldn’t she be a normal witch and use a spell to save time and effort?
He could feel the inexorable pull of her from the other room, the slight clink of silverware and saucers wasn’t driving him mad, she was. Doing dishes just seemed like the stupidest fucking thing to do when you literally have magic right at your finger tips. He had seen her duel, not just practice, but against Death Eaters in the war, he had seen her ruthlessly wield her magic with such force and precision she practically glittered with power.
Fucking Granger.
He silently crept out of his room, peeking around the doorway to see Granger standing at the sink in a tank top and pajama bottoms with her hair messily arranged on top of her head. It was the first time he had seen her without her long sleeve button down uniform shirt since eight year had started and he was curious about the wound that Bellatrix had inflicted in the drawing room. They had never spoken about the war, never addressed past grievances, just moved on without acknowledgement. Granger’s clipped manner of speaking with him lacked the passion and bite it had when he would routinely refer to her as Mudblood, the disgraceful epitet engraved with blood and horror on her forearm.
Draco had his own indelible reminder of the war, the Dark Mark faded after Voldemort’s defeat, but the scar that remained was a constant reminder of the perils of his youth.
He could see the raised slightly mottled lettering on her arm as she continued scrubbing away at her self-imposed chore, unaware of his intense scrutiny and impending approach. He remembered her screams and the look of terror in her flinty brown eyes as his Aunt had carved the deep crimson letters into her golden skin.
She could feel his presence behind her, but without knowing his intent, was loath to turn around so she continued washing her dishes, concentrating on soaping her personal teapot. This wasn’t the first time she’d felt him watching her, but he was lingering and she could pick up his hesitancy in her peripheral vision, as he shifted his weight to his forward foot.
Unexpectedly, she slammed the teacup she was holding into the dish rack while simultaneously shutting off the water and turning to face him.
He missed the questioning look in her eyes as his pupils exploded with lust taking in the expanse of water dampened material across her chest, the soft pink of the fabric practically transparent and clinging to her pebbling nipples. His cock twitched and he knew he should look away, should retreat and give up his fool’s errand. But his whole body vibrated with the need to see her, to be seen by her. He sought her out as a witness to who he had become, but instead caught himself unaware of the impact she had on him physically.
She’d always been just out of reach, he pushed her away for years and yet here they were again, thrown together after cruel childhoods filled with death and so much worse. They shared so much and yet, with the walls he had built between them, hell, between him and the whole world the distance seemed immense. He had felt too dangerous for so long, too dangerous to love or to be loved. Too dangerous to risk being vulnerable when those who had claimed to love him took away his rights to choose, put him in mortal danger, manipulate him mercilessly, while putting adult responsibilities on him when he was an unsure, insecure, terrified teenager, and yet, he was the only one who acted with any sense of morality, loyalty, duty, fuck, he was the only one who was a goddamned selfless ponce. Draco knew he was no Harry Potter, he was no savior, not for his family, not for himself, no epic career offers to slide right into after the war, not even an apprenticeship to show for his troubles.
Hermione’s eyes widened when his eyes tracked from her wet t-shirted tits to her face, hot blood coloring both of their cheeks in embarrassment as she brought up her arms across her drenched pajama top.
“You know there are easier ways to tidy up, Granger?” Draco’s casualness belied the fact that it was after midnight and they were both in their pajamas.
Hermione’s arms slid to her sides as she took in Draco’s scantily clad figure. His chest was bare and criss-crossed with old wounds, his heather gray bottoms looked like they would slip from his trim hips at the slightest move. The deep v of his abdominal muscles drew her gaze to the light smattering of hair tracing down from his belly button to disappear under his waistband. She noticed that he seemed to be holding his breath and his eyes flitted back to her peaked nipples showing through the tank top’s soft material.
“It gives me something to do with my hands while I’m thinking through my day and planning for tomorrow.” her words were innocent, but her tone was challenging, like his question was sarcastically couched criticism.
“What’s your bloody problem, Malfoy?” she inquired, liking the way his eyes couldn’t stay focused on her face, she breathed in deeply while lifting her shoulder blades, pinning them behind her back to force her pert tits to precede her and started walking towards his frozen position in the living room.
“Fucking swot”, Draco murmered under his breath, his eyes watching the bounce and sway of her unfettered breasts coming towards him and smirked as she advance into his personal space.
“See something you like.”, her gaze was hot and filled with a statement not a question as she pressed her advantage, she was mere inches from touching him and he found himself unable to back away as his mind was screaming at him to reclaim his personal space from her infiltration.
And then she sealed their fate, she leaned into him, well, up to him actually, with their height difference, balancing on her tiptoes, she was a hair's breadth away from his mouth when she hummed and drawled out his first name, “Hmm...Draco?” shooting a canted eyebrow in question at him as her eyes glinted in amusement. She licked her lips saucily and eyed her own bountiful cleavage, her arms squeezing the tops of her bronze globes into an inviting display for his gaze only.
The heat radiating off of him was making her realize how cold she had become in her wet top and quickly moistening knickers as she moved towards him, her body swaying slightly as if by a gravitational pull, lightly brushing his nude chest.
The contact caused little hairs to raise all over his arms and neck, he was hyper aware of her nearness, the scent of her apple and vanilla body lotion was clouding his already confused senses. He inhaled, her closeness allowing him to feel her cottony curls brushing his chin, her scent caused something deep in his stomach to clench with need.
Like she had been Imperio’d her index finger snuck forward of its own accord, drawn in by the warmth coming off his smooth pale abdomen in waves. A resounding fire had kindled in her stomach and was traveling like an electric current coiling into delicious tension below her belly button. An aching sensation that she'd denied for years, the relentless thrumming in her cunt as she felt her nipples tightening impossibly hard. They were so close, without The Boy who Lived or He Who Shall Not Be Named between them, there were no sides to take anymore.
"Play your cards right and I'll let you slide that alabaster cock of yours between these beauties."
His prick jumped at the words, unexpectedly crass and all the more tantalizing coming from her prim mouth.
Finally her index finger met his belly, gliding slowly from the faint blond hair trail that started at his navel to the thickening fur that disappeared into the top of the knotted sleep pants. He's lost all train of thought as every fiber of his body centered in on that one digit, scorching him with inaction. He bit his lip, squeezed his eyes shut trying to calm his racing heartbeat. He could feel her step away and he swallowed audibly trying to make sense of the loss. But before he could fully open his eyes and process what had transpired he felt Hermione's glorious skin, her rosy tipped breasts to her silky thighs were pressed against him.
"Play your cards right? Granger, since when have you been into divination?" He responded, his mouth quirking up in a ghost of that old Malfoy sneer. He was desperately trying to think, but his wit had been stolen by the amazing fit of her breasts and hips against him. Her hands had found their way under the gray pants and were wrapped around his hips, she had her thumbs bracketing his hip bones while her other four fingers kneaded his upper buttocks with firm smooth strokes.
She could see him thinking, overthinking, such a familiar thing to her, like breathing. This was such bad timing, she could feel him trying to do it, to occlude, to regain control. He was stepping back, his guard going up, his walls rebuilding stone by stone, the familiar safety, the quintessential isolation of his own mind. Stepping back to observe, to calculate, to distance himself.
Malfoy’s don’t initiate, they lie in wait.
Hermione was intimately familiar with Draco's withdrawal, with the barrage of such self sabotaging thoughts tumbling down on him as the self deprecating light in his eyes extinguished. The playfulness wrung from them as reality crashed over their too quickly cooling tete a tete.
Destructive ruminations raised themselves from Draco's psyche dressing themselves up as selflessness, but really they were just another safety system, meant to keep others away and she was so tired of staying away from him. She aimed to stop him in his tracks, overloading and enveloping his senses, convincing him through actions of her intentions and their meaning. Lifting his arm while firmly pulling him towards her. She turned and led him to the sofa, pulling him down beside her and catching his opposing lower arm. She was able to take him by surprise, revealing his faded Dark Mark. A gasp of horror, embarrassment, resignation, and anger escaped Draco's dry lips unbidden. His eyes snapped shut and when he was unable to pull his arm from Granger's right grasp. He muttered "No, no, no, no, no…"
Pale white blond hair shook back and forth along with each verbal utterance.
Whether in desperation or fear Hermione was unsure, but she felt her heart breaking to see him continue to carry the burdens of his family. To continue to deny himself any comfort or kindness that wasn't paid in full. His trust had been broken, but he had survived, and she wanted to answer all the questions they couldn't consider before the war.
Hermione ignited the fireplace and transformed a couch throw into a plush rug which she charmed onto the floor in front of the couch. Placing a cushioning spell on the rug, she sank to her knees in front of him. Gently she ran her fingers over the Dark Mark, noting the way the ink still swirled slowly under Draco's pale forearm. The dark magic contained now that its source had been destroyed. An indelible reminder of the past, just like her eternal epithet courtesy of Draco's Aunt Bellatrix, from the fucking unhinged branch of his Mother’s family. Lot of rot in that trunk and the roots, but what of the crown?
Malfoy's broad shoulders seemed to loosen, his denials subsiding, as he pulled in a slow breath through his nose. He was relaxing into her touch and only pulling his arm half-heartedly until she turned his hand towards her, placing a soft, open mouthed kiss into his open palm. His eyes fluttered open as his mouth formed a soft “O” in wonder.
Then she laid his hand on her breast over her heart as she presented her own dark tattoo. Mudblood was deeply stenciled into her forearm, red and angry scars puckered the skin. Reaching out to touch her, he stayed his hand, "Does it still hurt? It looks like it does."
She shrugged, "It's a pain I can live with."
Stealing his attention away from the past, she took advantage of his leaning over to see her arm and leaned forward, "Are you okay with this?" She whispered as she chastely pressed her mouth to his. She clasped his hand to her chest, but moved his fingers to her already erect nipple, using his Quidditch roughened fingers to tease across the sensitive tip.
The kiss ignited and changed, she sighed blissfully, pulling his other hand from his lap and pressing his fingers to her neglected nipple. As he began to mold and knead both of her soft full breasts, he drew away to look at her gorgeous form. He palmed her tits pushing them together in the center of her chest. He roughly circled both nipples with his thumbs, noting how it made her nostrils flare as her breaths quickened. The air that was coming in slight pants across his mouth, had him licking her full lower lip several times, each more forceful than the last. She could feel him asking for entrance and moaned as she allowed his sweet tasting tongue to tangle against her own. He smelled of parchment, cedar, and something spicy and warm.
Her hands skimmed up his sculpted torso and one settled at the base of his throat, lightly pressing against his pulse point, while the other cupped his stubbled jaw. Fucking hell, he was fit, she positively drooled at the fact that she would have his cock tonight, finally after fantasizing for so long, she wasn't going to wait another moment. As the kiss deepened, Hermione couldn’t keep her hands still, the warmth from his palms pushing up her breasts while he stimulated her taunt peaks as his tongue played with hers was making her believe that she would be the one who was overwhelmed.
In desperation to momentarily think and not feel she let her mouth suck around his hot lascivious tongue and as she let it pop free she moved her head to pepper firm kisses down his jaw to the junction between his neck and shoulder, nibbling and sucking at his pale neck. She could feel his whole body shiver as she lightly scraped her teeth over his collarbone.
As the tremble subsided, she moved both of her hands to the tie on his heather joggers, which was insanely knotted and confusing to find on such a buttoned down wizard as Malfoy. She yanked at them fruitlessly, tried sliding her short nails under the stubborn strings, tried slipping her digits under the waistband, but it proved too snug from his seated position to allow any meaningful infiltration. Damn if that wasn’t a bit of wetness spreading where his dick was jutting against the soft fabric.
Frustration mounting as the outline of his cock became harder and more visible underneath the clingy material, her thoughts pinpoint down to that quarter sized wet spot darkening at the tip. She was goggling at his package and self awareness came hurtling back to her. It was completely silent in their common room. Hermione hadn’t realized how still Draco had become under her problem solving situation with his bloody cock-blocking wanker pyjama bottoms. His hands had drifted to the sides of her ribcage and were shaking more and more as her eyes lifted to see his rocking and cracking under the pressure to contain the amusement sparkling in his eyes and erupting with a guffaw from his mouth.
Hermione was NOT amused, she was pissed and snapped her fingers with a raised brow to wordlessly summon her wand. With one hand she caught the wand, with the other she held the hopelessly knotted drawstring, “Really Malfoy?” she accused at the same instant muttering “Evanesco” to vanish the offending joggers, drawstring and all.
“I hope you didn’t like those.” she smirked and held his gaze as she lowered her head to kiss the beautiful head of his prick. They held eye contact, pupils blown wide with want, her hand wrapped around him and a low hiss came from him at her firm, but unfamiliar grasp.
He hadn’t been with anyone since before the war. Being held by her, being wanted, being intimate in this way with so much baggage, he wanted to be present to not fight his desires, but he felt uncertain-which was really just an extension of how he had felt ever since he survived. He was never prepared for the long game, he had always just done enough to live another hour, another day, enough to keep everyone alive. He hadn’t had time to be innocent or let emotions have depth or be genuine; weakness, all of it.
Those beautiful brown eyes were looking so intensely at him, “Are you okay?” she whispered, sensing his hesitation, “May I?”, she exhaled over the tip.
Groaning a raspy “yes”, Draco’s head dropped back onto the couch as her warm, wet mouth came down enveloping his hard shaft until her lips were at his pelvis. He bucked into her, almost pushing her head from between his legs and he fought to pull his hips back and regain control. His body felt flush, his magic crackling in small sparks across his skin. He was almost light headed from the rush of blood away from his brain and directly to his groin. His cock twitched inside her mouth as she bobbed up and down, using the flat of her tongue to tease the vein that seamed the bottom of his thick member.
So enthralled was he with being sucked off by the Gryffindor Golden girl that he jumped when she added another hand to the party, gently palming his balls and tickling across his scrotum. His hips pumped forward unbidden again, practically gagging Granger and Draco immediately shifted himself back, his heart thudding and breath heaving.
Noticing how close he was to losing control, Hermione pulled her mouth from his velvet soft hardness and let her kisses trail down to his bollocks, gently sucking first one and then the other into her mouth, noting how Malfoy frantically grasp the base of his cock and seemed to be muttering potion ingredients, she guessed that she was pressing all the right buttons.
She leaned forward, taking his cock deep into her mouth, he made her salivate with his fucking amazing cock, it was such a beautiful swollen pink when she excited him. As she slowly slid her head up and let his dick pop from her mouth glistening, she moved up onto her knees pressing her gold tits around his engorged prick, encasing him between those delectable D-cups.
His head had come away from the back of the couch and his eyes were transfixed on her luscious soft, brown tipped breasts as they started to bounce while she squeezed him between. Her magic threw bright sparks in the air as she moved and it seemed to encourage the coiling tension he was feeling in his groin. His balls were so tight and his mouth dry when Hermione made eye contact with him again, her tongue licking at precum that had appeared at the tip of his cock poking out from being titty fucked, he would die happy with this image in his mind.
“God, you taste so unbelievably good, Draco”, she sighed as she let go of her boobs and took him once again in her mouth, running her hands along his thick thighs, one reaching around his hip to grasp his arse, while the other found his hand and grasp her own hair with it. He got the point rather quickly and adjusted his hand threading his fingers into the curls at the nape of her neck.
Using her nails to lightly caress his arse while plunging down onto his cock, taking him all the way into her throat was making his body rock and twitch with pleasure. He felt his orgasm rushing through him as his cock thickened and spurted into her mouth taking all of his doubts and reticence along with it. He felt a relief and contentment like none before. He couldn’t help the massive smile that overtook his face.
Granger sat back on her haunches with a grin that rivaled his own. She stood up and reached her hand out to him, which he took without hesitation.
“Let’s move this to my bedroom, yeah?”
Draco followed, knowing it was going to be a night of many firsts.