Archive of Our Own

There was a surge of panic that tore through her nervous system as the crack of Apparition echoed through the night air, and Hermione stumbled as her feet hit uneven ground. Her wand was already raised, heart pounding against her ribs as she searched the darkness for him.

"Malfoy!"

A figure moved in the shadows near the treeline, and then he was there. She stared as his pale hair caught the moonlight and saw that his robes were torn and bloodstained. He looked rough, but he was alive. 

"You absolute madwoman," Draco whisper-shouted, pocketing his cell phone as he moved closer. "You broke through the wards to get to me."

"Of course I did." Hermione closed the distance between them in three running steps, throwing herself into his arms with enough force to make him stagger backward. "Did you really think I wouldn't?"

His arms came around her immediately, crushing her against his chest. She could feel him trembling, his blood soaking into her plain Muggle clothing, but she didn’t care. One of his hands buried itself in her hair while the other pressed against her lower back, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe, and it calmed her more than anything else had before. 

"Granger," he argued against her temple. "You shouldn't have come. Kingsley will have everyone out looking for you."

"I don't give a damn what Kingsley will do." She pulled back just enough to look at him, her hands coming up to frame his face. There was a cut above his eyebrow, another along his jaw, and blood had dried in the corner of his mouth. "You're hurt."

"I'm fine, baby."

"You're not fine, baby, you're bleeding. Gods, it’s everywhere." She was already pushing back from him and reaching into her trusty beaded bag, fingers closing around a small vial. "Here, blood replenishing potion. Drink."

Draco took the vial but didn't uncork it, his grey eyes searching her face with such a hard look that she was momentarily taken aback. "You need to go. Preferably before they realize you're gone. You cannot be found here with me. What if they decide to take you in, too?"

"Shut the hell up." Hermione's voice was firm, finding her swottiness again, he’d claimed to enjoy so much. She wrapped her fingers around his hand, the one holding the potion. "Drink it, Malfoy. Now. Or I’ll shove it down your throat myself."

"If I let you, can I shove something down your throat?"

The glare Hermione leveled at him made his already pale face go white. She liked his jokes. She liked his dirty jokes even more. Just not when he was currently bleeding out. 

He uncorked the vial without any more fuss and downed it in one swallow, grimacing at the taste. The moment he finished, Hermione was on him again, her hands running over his chest, his arms, checking for injuries with the practiced efforts of someone who'd spent too many years patching up the wounded.

"Hermione, listen to me." Draco caught her hands, stilling them. "There's no one who's going to marry us. Kingsley made that painfully clear when I spoke with him. And even if there were, I'll be arrested within the hour. You need to go back, love."

"Then we won't get married." Hermione looked up at him, her mind already racing through possibilities. "There has to be another way. What about—what about a Malfoy bonding ritual? Ancient magic from your family? Surely there's something you know of them?"

"What?" Draco stared at her like she'd grown a second head. Hermione almost reached up to check if she had. "Hermione, those rituals are complicated and dangerous. They are also eternal. Do you have any idea what you're suggesting?"

"I know exactly what I'm suggesting. I bested you in almost every class, Draco Malfoy. Don’t question my intelligence, I know exactly how things work."

"No, you don't." His grip on her hands tightened. The curve of his throat was shadowed by the moon as he swallowed hard. "A soul bond isn't like a marriage contract. It's not something you can dissolve or annul. If we do that, you'd be bound to me for life. Permanently. Magically. Our souls would be connected, even in—" He broke off, shaking his head. "Even in death. You can't possibly want that."

Hermione knew she sounded crazy to him, probably even a little unhinged. But they had just survived a war, ended it themselves, and she didn’t know much of anything anymore except that she wanted to be with Draco. And regardless of whether or not he truly thought he could change her mind, she’d known, from the moment she'd broken through the wards, that she wasn't going back without him. That she'd never ever go back without him.

"I do. That sounds good to me," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders.

Draco's eyes widened. He looked like he was about to throttle her. "Good? Hermione, you're not listening to me!"

"You’re the one who isn’t listening! You said I'd be bound to you for life." She stepped closer until they were nearly chest to chest again. "I’m telling you that I want that."

For a moment, he just stared at her. Then his hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone with an unexpected gentleness. "Did you hit your head back there?"

"Probably." She turned her face into his palm, pressing a kiss there. "But I’m not crazy, and I'm not leaving you. So either we do this the quasi-legal way, or I hex Kingsley, and we go on the run. Your choice, Death Eater."

A laugh burst from him, and the sound bordered on hysterical. "Merlin, Granger. You really mean it."

"Every. Word."

Draco closed his eyes, and she watched several emotions shift across his face—hope, fear, wonder, resignation. When he opened them again, there was a determination there that matched her own. 

"I don’t know any off the top of my head. The book that we would need," he said. "The one that has the Malfoy ancestry with the bonding rituals... I'd need to go back to the Manor." He glanced back toward the darkness behind him, then at her. "I'd have to go back to get it."

"Is it safe? Draco, you can’t go in there without me. " Hermione's fingers reached out and tightened on his robes. "You’ve just gotten free of that place."

"Thirty seconds," Draco promised. He pressed a hard, quick kiss to her mouth before walking backward a few steps so she was out of reach. "Don't move. Don't let anyone see you. I'll be right back."

And then he was gone, Disapparating with a soft crack that left her alone in the darkness. It happened so fast that Hermione couldn’t do anything. And she couldn’t rush in blindly now that she wasn’t with him… So, Hermione counted.

One. Two. Three.

The air was cold against her skin, and there was a moisture to it that predicted rain wasn’t far behind. She could also begin to hear voices in the distance, probably Aurors, securing the area. Searching for remaining Death Eaters. Searching for Draco. And now her. 

Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

What if someone stopped him at the Manor? What if the wards there had been changed already, and he couldn't get in? What if Kingsley had already sent people after him? What if they should have just run away when they had the chance, marriage be damned?

Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two.

Her heart was racing now, panic clawing at her throat. This was taking too long. Something was wrong. 

Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine.

She should have gone with him. She should have—

Crack.

Draco materialized in front of her, slightly breathless, with a leather-bound book tucked under one arm and something small and shiny clutched in his other hand.

"Told you," he said with a smirk, and the relief in his voice matched the sob that caught in her throat.

Hermione threw herself at him again, and this time, when he caught her, he held on just as desperately. "Don't do that again," she said against his shoulder. "Don't leave me like that."

"Never." His lips found her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. "Never again. I promise."

"What's that?" She pulled back enough to see what he was holding. He responded by holding up a small, ornate compass that gleamed silver in the moonlight.

"Portkey." Draco's eyes seemed to be looking anywhere but in hers. "There’s somewhere we need to go. It’s safe, and they won't find us while we do this."

"Where is that?"

Instead of answering, he held out his hand. He suddenly looked much younger, and her heart twisted when he grinned at her. "Can you trust me, Granger? Once more, yeah?"

Hermione didn't hesitate, just placed her hand in his, feeling his fingers close around hers with a warmth that made her cheeks flush. "Always."

"Then hold on."

She barely had time to grip the compass before the world dissolved into a whirl of color and the feeling of her body being snatched by magic. The hook-behind-the-navel feeling of portkey travel yanked her forward, and she pressed closer to Draco, feeling his arm come around her waist to steady her as they landed.

When the world reformed, Hermione gasped.

They were standing in a small cottage. Well, that wasn’t really the word for it. Calling it small felt like an insult to what it actually was. Warm light spilled from golden sconces on cream-colored walls. Through an arched doorway, she could see a kitchen with copper pots hanging above a stone counter. To her left, floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a view that made her hand fly to her mouth in surprise: the ocean, dark and rolling, stretching out beneath a star-filled sky. 

"What is this place?" She turned in a slow circle, taking it in. There was comfortable cream-colored plush furniture, thick rugs on hardwood floors, and—"Is that a library?"

Through another archway, she could see shelves upon shelves of books, a reading nook with deep emerald chairs positioned near a fireplace.

"Small one," Draco said, and he sounded uncertain now. Like he thought he might scare her off. "I know it's not much. The Manor has a much more extensive collection, and when things die down, I can try and bring more back. Or, when it's safe, we can move to one of the larger properties. I have a villa in France that may be more to your liking."

"Draco." Hermione walked toward the windows, her fingers trailing along the back of a sofa. Everything was clean, cared for. Fresh flowers sat in a vase on a side table. They were gardenias. Her favorite. She had no idea how he could possibly know that, but why else would those be here? "How long have you had this place?"

He was so quiet, she barely heard him. "Four months."

She turned to look at him. He was still standing near where they'd arrived, the Malfoy tome clutched against his chest, watching her with an expression she couldn't quite read. No, that was a lie. He was definitely off-kilter.

"I don’t mean to be presumptuous," she said slowly. "But it kind of looks like you’ve been preparing this… for us."

"I—" He shifted his weight, suddenly more nervous than she'd ever seen him. "I needed to know there was somewhere we could go. After we won. If we—if you still—" He broke off, jaw tightening. He cleared his throat, but his voice still trembled when he continued. "The wardrobes are stocked with clothing for both of us. The kitchen is spelled to keep things fresh, and there’s a market nearby. There are books I thought you'd like, and those are obviously in the library. I wasn't sure what you'd want, so I just grabbed a bunch in different genres, but I can always—"

"Draco."

"—and I know it's small, but it's safe. No one knows about it except me, I swear it. Not even my mother. The wards are—"

"Draco."

He didn’t realize he’d been pacing until he stopped, looking at her with those eyes that had haunted her dreams as much as her fantasies.

Hermione crossed the room in quick strides and grabbed the book from his hands, setting it on the nearest table. Then she reached up and pulled his face down to hers in a tentative kiss. The kiss was different from the desperate ones they’d shared before this. This was slower, deeper, full of all the emotions they’d been holding back til now. She heard him make a sound low in his throat, felt his hands come up to grip her jaw and neck, tilting her head to deepen the kiss further. When his tongue parted the seam of her lips and stroked against her own, she almost forgot what they’d come there to do

Almost, but not quite.

When she pulled her mouth from his, breathing hard, she dropped her head against his chest. If she looked into his eyes right now, she’d let him take her right there.

"We have to do the ritual."

He nodded, but his hands were shaking slightly as he opened the book beside them. Flipping through pages, he was sure to keep his fingers careful on the ancient parchment. The book was clearly old, the leather worn smooth by generations of Malfoy hands, but it contained unimaginable magic.

"Here." He pointed to the passage, and she leaned in to read.

The ritual was written in an elegant, flowing script of French and part Old English. She wasn’t necessarily fluent, but she could understand enough. This was definitely blood magic. They would be speaking words of binding that would tie their souls together, creating a connection that transcended anything the Ministry could recognize or regulate. And something they could never ignore. 

"It requires blood from both parties," Draco said quietly, his finger tracing the instructions. "And an exchange of vows. Not the standard marriage vows, obviously, since these are older. It’s a tad more formal. Once it's done, we'll be able to feel each other, too. Emotions, physical sensations, and location. If one of us is hurt, the other will know. If one of us dies…"

"The other will feel it." Hermione finished. She'd read about soul bonds in theory, though she'd never expected to perform one. "I understand."

"Do you?" Draco turned to face her fully, tucking her hair over her shoulder to get a better look at her face. "Because once we do this, there's no going back, Granger. We can’t undo this outside of literally dying. You'll be tied to me—to a Death Eater, to someone with a Dark Mark burned into his skin, to someone who's killed more than his share of—"

"To someone who risked everything to help us win this war." Hermione cut him off, her hands now in his hair as she titled his face down to her, and began peppering it with kisses. "To someone who's been texting me intel while flirting amidst battle plans, and to someone making me laugh when I thought I'd forgotten how. To someone who prepared an entire home for us, just in case." She reached up to touch his face, feeling the slight stubble under her palm. "To someone I love."

She'd texted it once, but she'd never said it out loud. She hadn’t let him hear it in her voice yet.

Draco closed his eyes with a groan, and she felt him lean into her touch. "Say that again."

"I love you."

"Fuck." His voice was rough, like his throat threatened to close up. "I love you. I was willing to burn it all down for you."

"You almost did." Hermione turned back to the book again, studying the ritual more carefully. "We'll need something sharp for the blood. And we should probably do it somewhere where we can draw the circle. I think the floor in here would be best."

Draco was already moving, pulling his wand and vanishing the rug in the center of the room with a flick. The hardwood underneath was smooth and unmarked, a nice butterscotch color. "I'll draw the circle. You read through the vows. Let me know if there’s anything you need me to translate. I need you to make sure you understand what you're promising."

They worked in tandem, Hermione reading while Draco used his wand to etch a complex runic circle into the floor that was a copy of what was on the page before her. The symbols glowed faintly silver as they appeared, pulsing with old magic that made Hermione more than a little nervous, if she was being honest with herself.

Hermione was proud of herself that she didn’t need his help translating, but the vows she read were quite… involved. Promises of loyalty, of protection, of choosing each other above all others. Of binding their magic, their lives, and their very souls together. Of accepting each other's darkness and light, past and future, without reservation or condition. There was no promise to obey as was traditional amongst Muggle customs, and Hermione realized she rather liked the change. Yes, she was okay with these conditions.

"The vows didn’t scare you off?" Draco asked, eyebrow quirked. He'd finished the circle and was standing at its edge, looking at her.

Hermione stepped into the circle and laid the book on the floor between them. "Nope. I’m quite pleased with them, actually."

They knelt facing each other, knees almost touching. Draco pulled a small silver knife from his pocket and held it out to her.

"You first," he said softly.

Hermione took the knife and pressed it to her palm, drawing it across in one quick motion. The pain was sharp but brief, and the blood welled up immediately, dark red sliding against her pale skin. She held her hand out, palm up.

Draco did the same, not even flinching as he cut his own palm. Then he pressed his hand to hers, their fingers interlacing, blood mingling.

The magic flared immediately around them in red, vibrant waves. Hermione gasped as she felt a rush of warmth that started where their hands joined and spread up her arm, through her chest, deep inside her core, then settled down her legs. She could feel him, his presence suddenly loud and clear in her mind.

"The vows," Draco said, his voice strained. He was obviously as affected as her and no better at hiding it as he looked at her with his blown-wide pupils. "We have to tell them now."

Hermione nodded, trying to focus through the overwhelming sensation of their magic beginning to twine together. She spoke first, eyes on the pages in front of her, her voice steady despite her body trembling with the intensity of emotions.

"I, Hermione Jean Granger, do bind myself to you, Draco Lucius Malfoy. I take your darkness as my own, your light as my guide. Your past as my past, your future as my future. Where you go, I will follow. What you face, I will face beside you. I give you my magic, my loyalty, my heart, my soul. From this moment until the end of all things, we are one in blood and together made whole."

The magic pulsed, the circle glowing brighter. She could feel tears on her cheeks when she finally lifted her gaze to find Draco's eyes on her.

His voice, when he spoke, was steady and soft:

"I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, do bind myself to you, Hermione Jean Granger. I take your darkness as my own, your light as my guide. Your past as my past, your future as my future. Where you go, I will follow. What you face, I will face beside you. I give you my magic, my loyalty, my heart, my soul. From this moment until the end of all things, we are one in blood and together made whole."

Hermione cried out as the bond formed and their combined magic rushed through her, overwhelming and all-consuming. She could feel Draco’s hand in hers, his fears and his hopes and his desperate, aching love for her. His exhaustion from the battle, the pain of his injuries, and the determination to keep her safe at all costs. And underneath it all, there was a constant thrum of: mine, mine, mine.

The circle flared one final time, so bright she had to close her eyes and tuck her chin into her shoulder. Then the light faded, and the magic settled into its new home within her. When she opened her eyes again, Draco was staring at her as if she were the most precious thing he’d ever laid eyes on, and his lips slightly parted.

"I can feel you," he whispered.

"I know." Hermione squeezed his hand with hers. "I can feel you, too."

They stayed like that for a long time, just kneeling in the circle, hands still clasped, adjusting to the new awareness of each other. It was intimate in a way Hermione had never experienced and never thought she would. But she rather liked it.  He was a part of her now, woven into her very being.

"We should," Draco cleared his throat, eyes trailing down her face to focus on her lips. She flushed under his attention before he spoke again. "We should heal our hands."

"Okay." But neither of them moved.

Eventually, Draco seemed to shake himself. He carefully released her hand to help her up and pulled his wand, murmuring a healing charm. The cut on his palm closed, leaving only a thin silver scar. Hermione did the same, watching the matching scar form on her own skin. But, she didn’t stop there. Carefully, she lifted her wand to the cuts on his face and healed them next. Then, she gently removed his robes and let them pile onto the floor inside the circle. 

Draco stayed silent while she undressed him and assessed his wounds. There were a few jagged cuts and burns along his left side, and one deep bruise along his thigh. She gently placed his phone on the open book, smiling at it as she continued to work. When he was in nothing but a plain black pair of boxers, all patched up as she could, she cast a Tergeo on him and removed the remaining blood. 

"Thank you."

Hermione gave him a small smile in return before taking a step back. With nothing to do, she felt awkward and stood there.

"So," Draco said, breaking the silence, and there was something almost shy in his expression now as he stood before her, almost naked. "We're bonded now."

"Yes, I guess we’re… bonded," Hermione said with a slow nod. 

He stepped toward her, so close that they were almost touching as she stared up at him. Their eyes locked as his hands slowly started to unbutton her top. 

"My injuries were already taken care of earlier," she breathed as he pushed the brown fabric off her shoulders until it joined his clothes where they lay. 

"Yes," Draco smiled, hands brushing against the smooth skin of her torso as he began to unbutton her trousers. He suddenly reached into her front pocket to pull out her phone and placed it beside his, the image of both atop the book that bonded them a fitting sight. Then he was back to working on removing her pants, and Hermione took note as his eyes darted to her plain ivory bra before meeting her eyes again. She wished she had something nicer on, but this is war—was war—and she didn’t think to pack one of her nightgowns. There wasn’t time before she literally ran away. "But you are covered in my blood now."

"Ah," she breathed. "Almost forgot about that."

"Mm," he murmured. His hands were pushing down the fabric now, so she helped him by kicking off her boots and stepping out of them. "I don’t mind, but I think you’d be more comfortable if we got you cleaned up, as well."

There was still some blood on her throat above where her collar had been, even a bit on her cheek, it seemed. Draco was gentle as his hand cupped her jaw and cast his own Tergeo with a few gentle taps of his wand on her skin. 

Her breathing hitched as he hooked a finger under the strap of her bra, the back of his knuckle tickling her skin as it trailed down to the swell of one breast before he released it and stepped back. Her eyes must have fluttered closed at the sensation, because she opened them quickly when she heard his voice. 

"And this cottage—I know it's not much, but as I said, when things settle down, we can—"

Hermione didn't let him finish. She surged forward, closing the small distance between them and capturing his mouth with hers, throwing her arms around his neck.

Draco made a surprised sound that quickly turned into a groan as he caught her. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer, and Hermione went willingly, pressing herself against him. The kiss turned heated fast, all of their tension and longing finally finding an outlet.

She could feel his desire through the bond now, mixing with her own until she couldn't tell where hers ended and his began. It felt amazing. It was amazing. 

Kissing Draco Malfoy might just be the most amazing thing Hermione had ever done, and she’d done a lot.

"Hermione," Draco gasped against her mouth, one of his hands now had a firm grip on an arse cheek. "We need to…"

"Need to what?" She nipped at his lower lip, her arousal curling through her when she felt him roll his hips against her. 

"Talk. We should talk—oh, fuck."

She'd moved her kisses to his jaw, his throat, finding the spot just below his ear where she was pleased to find that it made him shudder. "But you taste so good. What do you want to talk about, husband?"

"Fucking hell, Granger. You can’t talk like that."

"You just said you wanted to talk," she teased. "Am I not doing it to your liking?" Hermione licked a hot trail up the front of his throat and then nipped at his chin, and it sounded like he was in pain, his whimper so raw. "But if there’s something else to talk about…"

"Right. Yes. First, we should talk about—fucking fuck." His hands slid up her back now, one tangling in her hair as she continued to tease his neck and shoulder with her mouth, her hand sliding down his chest and under his shorts. "About what happens next with the… About—Merlin, don't stop doing that."

"I won’t. And I don't want to talk right now." Hermione pulled back just enough to look at him, and the hand she wrapped around his hard length made his eyes darken. "All we’ve done is talk. I've spent so long wondering what this would feel like with you. I don't want to talk anymore, Draco. So, unless you’re going to say filthy things that make me so wet that I cannot breathe, save it. I want you."

Something in him seemed to snap at those last three words. His hands tightened in her hair, and he kissed her with an intensity that stole her breath. Hermione kissed him back just as desperately, her hand sliding along his cock, and twisted her wrist to rub her thumb along the slit where he was leaking for her.

"Wait," Draco groaned, forehead meeting hers in a quiet thunk, and pulled her hand off him. Before she could protest, he kissed her again. "Not here." 

He walked her backward, his hands never leaving her body, until her back hit the kitchen counter. The impact made her gasp, and Draco took advantage, deepening the kiss until she was dizzy with lust. Suddenly, his hands were unclasping her bra and sliding it down her arms, breaking the kiss just long enough to toss it aside. 

Hermione reached for him again, and this time, he helped her when she gripped the waistband, shielding him from her, helping her push the final piece of clothing he was wearing out of the way until his cock was freed. She'd seen a lot of men naked the last few years. She tended to their wounds. Had been with Ron. But this was different. She didn’t just have a curiosity towards the hardness pressing into the apex of her thighs. She craved it. She ran her hands over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart and the slight tremor in his muscles as she grabbed his biceps. 

"You're so beautiful," she whispered, breaking the kiss to stare down at him.

Draco made a sound that was half-laugh, half-groan. "That's my line." His hands were at her waist, fingers hooking into the waistband of her knickers. "Can I…?"

"Yes. Gods, yes."

"Thank fuck," he murmured, dropping to his knees to watch as he began bringing her knickers down inch by inch. She wanted to hide her face with embarrassment when she saw his eyes glaze over as he watched a delicate string of her arousal cling to the gusset of her underwear before it disconnected when he reached her knees. Then there were no clothes between them.

He lifted his eyes to hers, and she bit her bottom lip against the rush of butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach."You're absolutely perfect."

Then he was on his feet, kissing her again, and Hermione lost herself in it. His hands were everywhere—her waist, her hips, her back. When he grabbed her thighs and lifted her onto the counter, she wrapped her legs around him instinctively, gasping at the feeling of him pressed against her.

"I’m sorry, but I can’t stop thinking about it." Draco's voice was rough. His mouth was hot against her throat now, trailing kisses down her chest. "I need to taste you. I need to hear what sounds you’d make for me when my tongue is licking through your fucking folds, lapping up the proof of how badly you want me. Please."

The ‘please’ undid her. "Yes. Anything you want. Anything."

His mouth found her breast, and Hermione's head fell back against the cabinet as pleasure sparked through her. She could feel his primal need to lavish her with his tongue through the bond, his pleasure at her reactions, and it only heightened her own arousal, surely causing her thighs to go slick with how badly she wanted him.

Then he was kissing lower, down her stomach, and—oh.

He sank to his knees in front of her again, his hands gripping her thighs to hold them open, and looked up at her with reverence.

"I've thought about this," he whispered against her center, causing her to shiver. "So many times. Wondered what you'd taste like. What sounds you'd make."

Hermione couldn't form words. She could only watch as he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, then another, moving higher.

"You can still tell me to stop," he said.

"Don't you dare stop, Malfoy."

She felt his smile against her skin. Then his mouth was on her, and Hermione cried out. He was thorough and so very hungry for her, using his tongue and lips and even his teeth in ways that made her shake. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as she tried to arch into him. He licked and sucked at her clit, lapping at her like a man starved, and through the bond she could now feel the taste of her on his tongue, the sounds she was making. It made her dizzy with the sensations she was feeling and those that were flowing through her from him.

"So good, wife," he murmured against her opening as his tongue delved inside for more of her. "Knew you'd taste amazing." Lick. "So perfect." Suck. "So mine." Sluuurp. "So fucking delicious."

The possessiveness in his voice, combined with the lewd attention he was giving the most intimate part of her had her skyrocketing toward her orgasm. "Draco, Draco, Draco—"

"That's it, baby. Keep saying my name like that."

"Draco, please—"

He did something with his tongue that made her vision go white, and then he was pushing a finger inside her, then another, curling them just right while his mouth latched onto her clit with quick pulsing motions.

"Come for me," he begged, but Hermione felt like it was more of a command. And oh, how she liked that. "Need to feel you come on my tongue. Soak my face, baby."

The bond amplified everything—her pleasure, his desire, the feedback loop of sensation between them. When her orgasm hit, it was overwhelming. She cried out his name again, her hands fisting in his hair, her whole body shaking with the force of it, even as he held her legs open under his attention as she tried to close them. There was a full minute where he worked her through it, gentling his movements as she came down, pressing soft kisses to her thighs. When she finally opened her eyes, he was looking up at her with an expression of such smug Malfoyness that she couldn't help but laugh (albeit breathlessly).

"Proud of yourself?" she managed, struggling to stay upright on the counter, slouched against the cabinets. She hadn’t noticed them digging into her back in the heat of the moment, but now she was well aware there may be a few bruises tomorrow.

"Extremely." He stood, and she could see the precum leaking a steady stream down the underside of his cock. "But that’s just the first one, love. I need at least two more from you, yeah?"

Before she could respond, he was lifting her off the counter, and Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively. He kissed her deeply, and she could taste herself on his tongue, but found she didn’t mind it all, even though it was more potent this way than through the bond. Before she could enjoy it too much, he was moving, carrying her toward the stairs with his sure footsteps. Hermione clung to him, pressing kisses to his jaw, his throat, and anywhere she could reach. He took the stairs quickly, shouldering open a door at the top. Hermione took a brief glance at a large bedroom with a bed draped in white linens, more windows overlooking the ocean, and soft lighting. Then Draco was tossing her onto the mattress.

She bounced slightly, laughing, but the laughter died when she saw the unadulterated heat in his eyes. He was standing at the foot of the bed, chest heaving, looking at her like he was about to eat her whole. But hadn’t he already done that? Merlin, she was nervous at what awaited her in the next few moments almost as much as she was excited for it.

"I need to hear you say it again," he practically growled as he stared down at her.

Hermione pushed herself up on her elbows, brushing a curl out of her eyes. "Say what?"

"That you love me." He moved onto the bed, crawling over her until they were face to face. "I need to hear you say it while I'm inside you."

Her breath caught because it was so rare for him to need anything from anyone. But this? This she could give him easily, whenever he asked for it. 

She reached up to cup his face, feeling the slight tremor in his jaw. "I love you," she breathed. "I love you, Draco Malfoy. I love you so much that it’s probably the most irresponsible thing I’ve ever done to allow myself to fall like this. I love you enough to break through wards, defy the Ministry, and bind my soul to yours. I love you."

His eyes closed, and she felt a wave of emotion through the bond so intense it brought tears to her eyes. There was a mix of relief, joy, and love so powerful that it almost took her breath away.

"I love you, too," he said, opening his eyes. "More than I thought I could love anything. You're everything to me, Hermione. Everything."

"Then make love to your wife," she whispered against his mouth. "I need you."

Draco shuddered at her words before he positioned himself at her entrance, and their eyes met. "Ready, love?"

"Gods, get inside me already!"

"Still so bossy."

He lined himself up and pushed inside slowly, causing them both to gasp. The sensation was so all-consuming, and not just the physical pleasure, but the emotional connection through their new bond. She could feel what he was feeling: the tight heat of her around him, the overwhelming rightness of being joined with her, the love and possessiveness all tangled together.

"Fuck," Draco breathed, his forehead dropping to hers. "You feel incredible. I knew you would."

"Move," she urged, wrapping her legs high around his hips as she dug her heels into his backside. "Please move."

He did, pulling out slowly before pushing back in, setting a rhythm that had them both moaning into their quiet bedroom. Hermione met him thrust for thrust, her nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure built inside her for the second time.

"Wanted this," Draco said, his voice strained. "Wanted you for so long. Thought about this every time you texted me. Every time I got to see you. Wanted to know how you'd feel. What you'd sound like when I made you come around my cock."

"Draco." His name came out as a groan as he angled her hips to take him deeper.

"That's it. Love hearing you say my name." He shifted his angle slightly again, and Hermione cried out as he hit a spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids. "Best sound in the world—fuck, that’s good. So good, baby."

"There. Right there. Th-that feels amazing..."

He was relentless, driving into her with a precision that suggested he was paying very close attention to her reactions—both physical and through the bond, she assumed. Hermione could feel herself tensing, trying to stave off another climax so soon.

"I can feel how close you are," Draco gasped against her throat as he kissed and nipped the skin there. "Can feel it through the bond. You're so close already, aren't you? You’re so good for me. I need at least two more, remember?"

"Yes—oh, yes—harder, please, Draco..."

She was shattering around him before she could prepare herself, and he became even more focused on getting her to do it again. Her legs trembled so badly that they fell open on the bed, releasing her hold on his hips. Draco wasn’t deterred; he continued his pace as he licked a trail up to her ear before biting the lobe, causing her to cry out against the sharp pain. She clenched down around his cock, already building toward a release, and she didn’t even know how it was possible. She only knew she might die from it—or would she die if she didn’t come for him again right this second?—it was hard to tell, but her mind didn't need to work at the moment.

"Come with me again, love." He reached between them, his fingers finding her clit, and his other arm hooked under her thigh to open her up more to him as he straightened. "Merlin, you’re like a fucking dream. You’ve got me out of my mind, Hermione. Knew your cunt would be magic. Knew it would be worth dying in this fucking war for." His stare was so intense, mouth slightly parted, skin glistening with sweat in the moonlight that sneaked into their room. He was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him. "Come around my cock. Give me one more, love. That’s it—that’s it—"

The combination of his words, his fingers, and the relentless thrust of his hips sent her over the edge while he watched her come undone for him. Her orgasm crashed through her, and through the bond, she felt him follow immediately after, before his cock swelled and pulsed with his release against the swollen walls of her cunt. 

Draco collapsed on top of her, both of them breathing hard as he twitched until the effects of his orgasm calmed. Hermione wrapped her arms around him, holding him close, feeling his heart racing against hers. She ran her fingers through his now-wet hair and peppered kisses along his temple as she caught her breath. After a long moment, he shifted, rolling to the side and pulling her with him so they were facing each other. His hand came up to brush her hair back from her face, his touch gentle and loving.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his brows furrowing as his eyes traced over her face and down her length.

"More than okay." Hermione smiled, feeling pleasantly exhausted and utterly content. "Is sex supposed to feel like that?"

"I think so." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I mean, I’ve never had sex that good before, so I’m just as shaken up as you are."

Hermione laughed at that because, Merlin, that was so true. It had never been like that before, and now she could never imagine fucking anyone else ever again. Luckily, she wouldn’t need to. They were content just to hold each other for the next few minutes, but Hermione could feel his apprehension rising through their bond again. She sighed, tracing the scars on his chest as she waited for him to speak.

"We really should probably talk," Draco murmured eventually. "I’m not sure what will happen next. Kingsley and the Ministry are out there right now trying to track you down, I’ve no doubt."

"And I could not care less," Hermione said, with a sleepy sigh. "We'll figure it all out tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to be here with you."

She felt his relief through the bond and placed a quick kiss on his chin. "Where is here, exactly?"

He pulled her closer with a grin, and their lips met in a soft kiss before he pulled back. "Greece."

"Oh, that’s nice," she whispered against his lips, wistfully. "I’ve always wanted to visit Greece."

Draco chuckled quietly. "Let’s hope you enjoy living here for a little while, then." He pulled the blankets over them, and Hermione curled into his side, her head on his chest. She listened to his heartbeat beneath her cheek, and her eyes fluttered closed. 

"Hermione?" Draco's voice was quiet.

"Mm?"

"Thank you. For doing this."

She tilted her head up to look at him. "You don't have to thank me for choosing you."

"Maybe not. But I'm going to anyway. Every day from now until forever." He pressed a kiss to her hair. "Get some sleep, love."

Hermione smiled and closed her eyes, feeling safe and loved and exactly where she was meant to be.

Three Years Later

Hermione stood at the window of the cottage holding her phone as she waited for a text, watching the sun set over the ocean. The sky was painted in shades of orange and pink, the water reflecting the colors like a painting she had seen once before, but she couldn’t remember where. Behind her, she heard the front door open and close, followed by familiar footsteps.

"There’s my beautiful wife," Draco said, his arms coming around her waist from behind. "I thought you'd still be in the library."

"I finished the chapter I was working on. I texted you to see when you’d be back so I could have something for you to eat, but you’re here now." Hermione pocketed her phone in her blush-pink house dress before she leaned back against him, feeling the solid strength and warmth of his chest. "How was the Ministry?"

"Tedious, but productive. No one tried to hex me today." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Kingsley sends his regards. And his apologies, again, for the whole trying-to-arrest-me thing."

Hermione laughed at that. It had taken months of negotiation, testimony, and political maneuvering, but eventually the Ministry had been forced to acknowledge that Draco's work for the Order had earned him a pardon. The soul bond had helped close the case altogether in the end. It was hard to argue that Hermione Granger, war heroine and witch extraordinaire, would bind herself for life to someone truly irredeemable.

"He's forgiven," she said, snootily. "Mostly."

"Generous of you." She could hear the smile in Draco's voice. "Oh, I brought you something."

He pulled back, and Hermione turned to see him holding a small box. "What's that?"

"Open it."

She did, and inside was a key—old-fashioned, ornate, and clearly magical as it glowed a soft gold around the bronze of its shape. Hermione looked up at him questioningly.

"It's for the villa in France," Draco said, and there was something nervous in his expression. "I know you love this cottage. I love it, too. But I thought that maybe we could use somewhere with a bit more space. For when we're ready."

"Ready for what?" But even as she asked, she felt the answer through the bond. There was hope and a worrisome feeling, and a question he wasn't quite ready to ask out loud, but she knew what it was all the same.

"For whatever comes next," he said carefully. "A family, maybe. If that's something you'd want. No pressure, of course. We have plenty of time… I just thought it might be something to consider."

Hermione felt tears prick her eyes as she looked at her handsome, thoughtful ex-Death Eater husband. She set the box down and reached up to cup his face. "I'd love to start a family with you. But let’s give it a little more time, okay? I want to finish my book first, and you have your work at the Ministry. But someday, yes. I’d love nothing more than to have your child, Draco."

The relief and joy that flooded through the bond made the tears fall freely down her face now. Draco pulled her into a kiss that was both sweet and passionate, and Hermione had to have a stern talk with herself in her head when she almost told him to put a baby in her this very instant.

When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers. "I love you," he breathed. "In case I haven't mentioned it recently."

"You mentioned it this morning, actually. And last night. And yesterday afternoon." Hermione grinned at him as he rolled his piercing grey eyes. "But I don't mind hearing it again."

"Good. Because I plan to keep saying it."

"Well, I would hope so." Hermione teased as she turned back to rest against his chest once more, her attention returning to the outside world. 

Through the window, the sun finished setting, painting the world in shades of purple and gold. And in their secret cottage by the sea, wrapped in each other's arms, Draco and Hermione watched the stars begin to appear together, as they would be for all the days to come.