Chapter Text
Word of the party starting in the Hufflepuff common room spread through the hallways as the last exams let out for the year. Hermione Granger, torn between feeling relieved to be done with her final exams of her final year at Hogwarts, and sad that her time at the school was coming to a close, thought that a celebratory distraction would ease her mind. No time to change out of her school robes before following a group of rowdy Hufflepuffs hiding handles of fire whiskey under their cloaks, Hermione caught up with a mixed crowd of students from every house in Hogwarts, even Slytherin.
The gaggle of students entered the Hufflepuff common room and Hermione immediately heard the throbbing bass pound through the room. Looking around at the well-stocked supply of alcohol, Hermione smiled to herself as she realized that mild-mannered Hufflepuff might be anything but.
Draco Malfoy entered the ‘Puff Party and made a beeline to the makeshift bar set up next to the fireplace and poured himself a healthy glass of fire whiskey.
“Pass the bottle would you?”
Draco lifted the bottle and turned to his side to hand over the liquor. He jerked the bottle back for a moment.
“Didn’t take you for a whiskey girl, Granger,” said, as always, with the hint of a smirk on his lips.
“Well I’d rather you not take me for anything. The bottle, Malfoy,” Hermione said, with her hand outstretched expectantly.
Draco handed the bottle over and leaned back against the table to look out on the crowd as he leisurely sipped his drink.
Hermione poured herself a glass, and realizing that the room had filled up as quickly as it took for her to secure a beverage, leaned against the wall a few inches away to scan the crowd for a familiar face. She placed her lips to the cool glass and tipped the cup slowly to take in a needed swig of the golden liquid. She felt the burn on her tongue and held it there for a few moments, relishing the first taste before swallowing. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. She needed that.
“Where’s your entourage, Granger?”
She opened her eyes, as if coming out of a trance, and tilted her head upright. As her head turned, her eyes clouded with annoyance.
“I’m not their keeper, Malfoy. And where’s yours? Was the intellectual stimulation of their company finally too much for you?”
Despite himself, Malfoy snorted at the mention of Crabbe and Goyle in the same sentence as the word “intellectual.” With a lingering smile on his lips, he bent to pour himself another glass and strolled by Hermione as he crossed to the other side of the room where a group of Slytherin housemates stood chatting. She eyed him with curiosity as he walked past, noting that his smile lacked its usual malice. She watched him join the group of Slytherins and clink glasses with his housemates. Truly unfortunate that such a drool-worthy body belonged to such a prick.
Her eyes turned back to the crowd. She wasn’t sure if Harry or Ron would come to the party. They each had rather serious girlfriends, whom she imagined they would spend much of their time with that evening, basking in the exhilaration of the end of exams. She was happy for her friends of course, but it had been a while—too long—since she had regular, let alone satisfying, sex. She allowed herself to feel a little jealous.
“Hermione, hey! God I’m so glad to be done with exams,” Neville Longbottom said as he gave her a brief hug hello and turned to the drink table. “Gee, I don’t think they got enough fire whiskey,” Neville smiled as he examined the ample options in front of him.
Grateful to have a friend to socialize with, Hermione and Neville reflected on exams, the school year, and with a touch of sadness and nostalgia, the end of their time at Hogwarts. They were about to head into the wizarding world and figure out their place beyond Hogwarts. There would be no sorting hat around to tell them where they belonged.
Soon, Luna and Ginny joined and Neville’s co*cktails became stronger each refill, with the music moving their bodies to its beat. In the back of Hermione’s mind, she knew this might be the last night like this. She wanted to savor every moment.
From the other side of the room, a Hufflepuff prefect, clearly considering his official duties done for the year, walked to the center of the room with an empty fire whiskey bottle. The music died away and the Hufflepuff held the bottle above his head and began projecting his voice to the large crowd.
“It’s that time of the evening, Hogwarts! Gather round for a Hufflepuff house favorite: Seven Minutes in Heaven!”
“Of course we find out the last night at Hogwarts that Hufflepuff is full of a bunch of freaks,” Neville chuckled into his mixed drink.
A large circle began forming around the center of the room as Hermione dipped back to the drink table to refill her glass one more time. “I’m definitely going to need a drink for this,” she muttered to herself as she poured a double.
“Pass the bottle when you’re done, Granger.”
Hermione looked up. “In need of some liquid courage, Malfoy?”
“Like you?” He gestured to her full glass.
“Maybe…” she admitted under her breath. She was buzzed enough that pretending otherwise would have taken too much effort.
He smirked. “Yeah…maybe me too.” He found it difficult to respond to her simple honesty with anything other than the truth. He poured himself a drink and returned to the circle in the middle of the room.
Hermione, caught a bit off guard by Malfoy’s uncharacteristic display of vulnerability, took a place next to her friends as the Hufflepuff prefect explained the rules to those gathered.
“It’s simple: when it’s your turn, spin the bottle. When the bottle stops, you and the person chosen by the bottle go into that closet—” he gestured to his left where a door Hermione hadn’t noticed before suddenly appeared as if conjured specifically for this purpose. “—and you stay in there for seven minutes. The countdown begins when you start kissing. Oh and the door is locked until the timer is up, so no cheating.”
He passed the bottle to the Slytherin sitting to his left. “We’ll go clockwise. Blaise, you’re up.”
The air in the room stood still as many girls held in their breath, hoping for the chance to spend 7 minutes in a dark closet with one of the sexiest men at Hogwarts. Blaise Zabini set the bottle down and spun with a flick of his wrist. The feeling of anticipation in the circle was its own kind of intoxicant. The bottle slowed as it neared Hermione, but stopped just short.
Ginny inhaled deeply, looking at the nose of the bottle pointed directly at her. She glanced at Hermione, who wiggled her eyebrows and gave her a look of encouragement as Ginny rose to join Blaise in the closet. The door closed behind them and the lock clicked audibly.
The music blared back on, a beat that was impossible not to dance to. As the circle danced, the minutes ticked away. Suddenly the music stopped and everyone remembered why they were standing around in the first place. The door clicked open and Blaise and Ginny exited the closet, flushed. Ginny took her place next to Hermione, avoiding her inquisitive stare.
“The rumors about Blaise were…correct,” she said simply. Hermione smiled and decided not to press further. She could do that tomorrow.
Blaise passed the bottle to his left. Neville took the bottle and entered the middle of the circle to spin. As the bottle slowed, the tension in the room thickened. Slowly the bottle came to a stop on…
“Luna,” Neville nearly whispered. Luna looked up, calm and…determined? With eyes focused only on Neville, she stood and walked assuredly up to Neville, clasping his hand and leading him to the closet. As the door closed, Hermione and Ginny immediately began snickering. This had been a long time coming.
“Of course it had to be something like this to finally make that happen!” Ginny’s cheeks were returning to a normal state as the music pounded back on. Blaise closed the distance between him and Ginny and they started dancing together, looking at each other as if there was no one else in the room. With Neville and Luna otherwise engaged, Hermione took the opportunity to refill her glass and people watch as the minutes ticked down. When seven minutes passed, the music predictably faded and the closet opened. Neville and Luna exited, hands clasped together with sheepish grins on their faces. Instead of returning to the circle, they crossed to a private alcove on the other side of the common room. Everyone else reclaimed their spots in the circle, ready for the next turn.
“You’re up, Hermione.”
She inhaled, took a swig of her drink, and exhaled as she picked up the bottle. As she walked to the center of the circle, she wondered who she would most want the bottle to land on. And who she would most want the bottle NOT to land on. She scanned the circle. She wouldn’t mind a harmless makeout, maybe some innocent caressing. God knows she was past due. Before bending down to spin, her eyes met a pair of grey eyes. Anyone except Malfoy.
She gave the bottle a hard spin. As the bottle circled those gathered, she noted with some satisfaction that many faces in the crowd followed the bottle with hopeful eyes. Except one pair of grey eyes.
The bottle stopped. A collective gasp filled the room, as it dawned on everyone that this might be the most epic game of seven minutes in heaven in Hogwarts history. Hermione groaned and Draco felt his eyes roll back in his head. Could this really be happening?
Hermione walked past him without making eye contact and headed for the closet door. Draco reluctantly stood and followed her. As they both crossed the threshold, the door closed behind them with a deafening click.
The closet was, of course, not really a closet. Neville was right: these Hufflepuffs were freaks. It wasn’t a large room, but was large enough to fit a cot in the far corner, a few bookshelves filled with…not books. Feather quills, handcuffs…was that a whip? A countertop hovered beneath the shelves.
“I don’t know about you but my opinion of Hufflepuff has measurably improved this evening,” Draco said to cut the silence that had started to become suffocating. Hermione let a small smile pull at her lips.
“Well I suppose we need to get this over with or we’ll never be let out of here,” Hermione gestured to the curious surroundings.
“Ugh, fine,” Draco sighed as he walked towards her.
He hesitated briefly before she grabbed his tie to pull him to her lips. At first, they stood there, frozen in time as the tingle in their lips spread across their bodies. Moreso out of habit, he instinctively moved his hand to the nape of her neck and the other brushing the side of her waist before pulling her deeper into the embrace. As the kiss deepened, it began to dawn on him: if Hermione Granger is this good at snogging, what else is she good at?
Without thinking, Hermione melted into him, snaking her hand up his neck and into his silvery blonde hair. It wasn’t surprising that Draco Malfoy knew how to snog a witch in a dark alcove—the rumors were inescapable. What was surprising was how her body felt immediately responsive to his touch. As if every caress of his hand was pushing a hidden arousal button on her. She felt wet heat begin to boil in her core as his fingers grazed the bare skin of her upper thigh, just below the hem of her skirt.
Her other hand naturally found its way to his abdomen, caressing upward toward his chest, feeling his muscles flex beneath the fabric. She thought, inconveniently in that moment, that it had been too long since she had felt the weight of a man on top of her. Malfoy’s lips were uncharacteristically gentle as his tongue tentatively nudged her lips open. Her tongue met his as he pulled her closer. He tasted sweet. Like fire whiskey.
He had lost all conscious thought as her tongue grazed his. Her hands slid down his torso and to his back where she pulled him closer. The only thing his brain could comprehend in that moment was: more. More of her skin, her lips, her quiet moans he was sure she didn’t even know she was making every time his finger brushed under the hem of her skirt. He reached down to the back of her thighs and lifted her up. He walked her to one of the counters hovering under the suggestive contents of the shelves.
She gasped briefly as he lifted her, but she didn’t break the connection of their mouths. Her legs wrapped around his midsection, holding him tighter to her. She felt the hard, cold surface of the counter beneath her skirt as he gently set her down, only mildly remembering that she still had her school-sanctioned skirt on.
He instinctively grazed his hands along the back of her bare thighs, slowly stroking her smooth skin upward until his hands found themselves at the lace undergarment covering her magnificently round bum.
Hermione moaned into his lips as she felt his fingers tuck under the lace of her undergarments and grip her backside with passion, need. She tilted her pelvis forward, eager to feel more of herself over more of him. She could feel him smile against her mouth and she stifled a smile of her own. His naughty hands slowly moved over the sides of her hips, slowly working closer toward her inner thigh. She could feel what was coming and her heartbeat began to quicken. She felt more of her arousal pool between her legs with anticipation. His thumb continued inching forward along the lace edges of her undergarments. She clutched the hair just above the nape of his neck, needing to maintain some semblance of control.
f*ck, he thought. I could stay in this closet all night. His thumb grazed her inner thigh and she moaned, deeply. He was already impossibly hard but her sounds nonetheless shot straight through his co*ck. Staying a moment before making his next move, he noted that one of her hands was well-entangled in his hair and the other was clutching his dress shirt in a death grip. His thumb caressed upward, finding the cotton patch between her legs. With satisfaction, his thumb brushed over the wet cotton, getting undeniable confirmation that he was doing to her exactly what she was doing to him.
She heard herself let out the most embarrassing, needy whimper as his hand caressed her center. He must know what he was doing to her. At that moment, she could care less. This was the best makeout she’d had in months. Part of her wondered if he was enjoying himself as much as she was. She reached down, dipping her hand under his waist band. She smiled into him as she received confirmation.
He groaned audibly as she stroked his length in firm, sure grip. Kissing was definitely not the only thing Hermione Granger was skilled at.
At that moment, the lights flew on and the door clicked open. Hermione and Draco parted, their eyes meeting for the first time in seven minutes. A little too slowly, recognition flashed across their eyes.
“f*ck,” they both said, as if coming out of daze. Hermione jumped down off the counter and straightened her skirt, collecting herself before returning to the crowd. Draco, a little slower, took a deep breath and adjusted himself, before turning on his heels to follow Granger out into the light.
The crowd stared at every movement they made as they exited the closet, eager to find clues of what had happened over the course of those seven minutes. As Hermione and Draco found their spaces again in the circle, and it became clear that both were determined to give nothing away, the crowd quickly turned its attentions to the next spinner.
Hermione found her glass of fire whiskey and quickly downed the remaining liquid. For a moment, it calmed her nerves as she willed herself to act normally, avoiding the grey eyes watching her every move. Draco kept his gaze trained on her, trying to ascertain how she felt about those seven minutes. Admittedly, it was a lot to unpack. She was mostly irritating, sometimes beautiful (in a certain light), and apparently knew her way around a co*ck. He’d take seven more minutes. At least.
She had needed a good snog, yes. But did it have to be with Malfoy? She shook her head slightly as she remembered his thumb caressing her, knowing she had enjoyed their tryst in the closet. She knew he knew it too.
She looked around, seeking distraction. Ginny and Blaise had found a corner of the common room where they continued what had started in the closet. Neville and Luna were gone. Hermione smiled to herself. Finally, she thought. Left with few options, Hermione decided to cut her losses for the evening and head back to Gryffindor tower. She made her way to the exit, when she felt a light touch on her arm.
She turned, not surprised to find Malfoy standing there with an indecipherable look on his face. She looked behind him, satisfied that the crowd was no longer paying attention to them, having turned their attentions to the next victims.
“Can I come with you?” He didn’t know what she would say, but he was desperate enough to ask anyway.
She stared at him for a moment, considering how much of a regrettable mistake this would be. Then, in the carefree spirit of the last night at Hogwarts, she nodded and motioned for him to follow her. She led the way out of the common room, leading him through the dark, empty hallways of the school. They walked silently, without touching, through the twisting corridors, the tension filling the space between them. She led him wordlessly up staircase upon staircase. They stopped abruptly before a portrait where she whispered a nonsensical password. The portrait swung open and he followed her inside.
The Gryffindor common room. He had always been curious, of course, but it was strange to finally lay eyes on the place. It was empty and dark, but a fire burned its late night embers in the corner of the room.
“Welcome to the lion’s den, Malfoy,” she couldn’t resist saying as they walked quietly up the stairs to her room. She opened the door and pulled him inside where a four-poster bed took up most of the space and gold and red fabric draped almost every inch of the room.
Draco stepped closer to her and absent mindedly placed a hand along her waist as he caressed her face. His touch quickly reigniting the heat he had built inside of her back in the Hufflepuff closet.
“What do you want,” he asked in a low growl.
She tipped her head upward, meeting his eyes. She reached her hand between them, caressing the front of his pants. “I want you to make me scream.”
His eyes widened at her directness. He smirked. “Cutting to the chase, I guess, Granger.”
“Look, Malfoy. It’s our last night at Hogwarts. And I am just speaking personally, but it has been too long since I’ve…you know…” she broke their eye contact briefly before continuing. “Let’s just say I want this as much as you do.”
“And what makes you think I want this at all, Granger.” She smirked as she grasped his arousal between them. “Just a hunch,” she whispered.
Well she’s got me there, he thought. Pun intended, he added to himself, groaning while she stroked him lightly through his pants.
His lips crashed onto hers as his arms reached down to grasp under her thighs to pick her up. She wrapped her legs around him, as they had in the closet. She reached her hand up to grasp his hair.
He threw her on the bed and climbed on top of her, laying the length of his body on hers. She sighed unevenly, relishing how his weight felt on top of her. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered as he brushed his lips along her neck and down her collarbone.
“I want the best you got,” she exhaled as she started to resent the clothes standing between them. She loosened his tie and removed it altogether before undoing each button on his shirt in rapid succession.
He ran his hand up her thigh, finding the lace hem that had toyed with him before. As soon as his thumb hooked underneath the lacey barrier, they both inhaled sharply, knowing exactly where this was heading. He grazed his hand over to the cotton center he’d found before in the closet. Soaking wet. He grinned.
As much as she hated his stupid smirk in any other context, she had to admit that his outsized confidence was not completely unearned in this situation. Well, so far anyway. Hermione had been in this position before—her body wrapped underneath a hot wizard, feeling the heat of his breath on her skin as they discarded clothing piece by piece. Then, inevitably, when they got to the main event, she would be left unsatisfied. Disappointingly few seemed aware the cl*tor*s existed and too many inexplicably preferred the jack hammer method of thrusting. After he came, she’d excuse herself politely, returning to her room to find her own pleasure. Hermione knew what she wanted and she needed someone who could give it to her.
She pulled Draco’s head down to hers and pressed her lips to his. She deepened the kiss slowly, knowing she had his attention. With surprising strength, she hooked her legs around Malfoy’s waist and flipped their positions in one controlled movement. She pulled away from the kiss, looking down from her perch. She grinned as she caught the look on Malfoy’s face. She definitely saw desire flash across his grey eyes, but there was a tint of something else. Was it respect? Admiration?
“My room, my rules, Malfoy,” she said in a low, even tone. Hermione Granger was used to earning Outstanding scores on her exams. It was her last night as a Hogwarts student and she wasn’t going to settle for less than an Outstanding in her own bed.
Draco looked up at her. All of the blood in his body rushed to his lower appendage. Was this why it was difficult to think clearly? He didn’t know if he had ever been this hard before. He marveled at how at ease she seemed. She was turned on, yes. He knew she wanted him, this. And bad, if her panties had given anything away. But she knew what she was doing. This wasn’t her first time at the Quidditch pitch. More specifically, she knew exactly what she wanted and was prepared to get it. Odd how this Gryffindor streak was so irritating in the outside world, yet so arousing in the bedroom.
“Typical Granger—so bossy,” he smiled, clearly meaning it as a compliment.
Hermione flashed a genuine smile in return. She had been called bossy for years and eventually came to wear it as a badge of honor. She liked that he seemed to like that about her too. In this moment anyway.
She began slowly unbuttoning her blouse. He reached up to help, impatient with her pace, but she swatted his hand away. She continued inching slowly down, grazing her fingers over her newly exposed skin. As her fingers reached her neck, she started rocking her hips, moving her wet center along his (very) hard erection. She moaned, closing her eyes and tipping her head back and to the side. Through the haze of his desire, he recognized this look from earlier, when she had taken her first sip of the fire whiskey. Pleasure.
As she rocked on top of him, he slid his hands on top of her smooth thighs, moving slowly and relishing every centimeter of her skin until he once again found the lace hem that had stymied him all night.
“We should get these off of you, Granger.” Her eyes opened, as if woken from a blissful dream.
She slid her arms out of her blouse and threw it on the floor behind her. “You first.” She reached down to find his belt buckle, deftly unhooking the strap. She unzipped his dress pants and leaned down so that her lips were just barely touching his. She stared directly into his eyes as she reached her hand underneath the waistband of his boxers, taking hold of him in her firm, warm hand. He inhaled sharply and broke their eye contact. “Holy sh*t,” he muttered raggedly.
She ran her hand along the length of him, caressing the raised veins pulsing around his perimeter. Her thumb circled the tip before moving back down his long shaft. “Oh yes, this will do,” she whispered, as if to herself. He groaned from deep within, hazy with need. With the sliver of self-control he had remaining, he flipped her onto her back once again. He needed her to feel the same amount of desperation that he did.
She relaxed into the soft cushion beneath her. Let’s see what he’s got.
Malfoy stood, removing his pants and shoes before unlacing her shoes and slipping them off. He tucked his finger under the top of one of her knee-length socks and slowly rolled it off and repeated the motion on the other side, caressing her skin as he uncovered her shapely legs.
Once her socks had joined the heap of forgotten clothing on the floor, Draco turned his attention to the lace and cotton nemesis under her plaid short skirt. Crawling back on top of her, he found her lips again in a kiss. Momentarily lost to the dance of their tongues, he refocused his attention to the task at hand. Lightly grazing his long fingers along her inner thighs, he paused, feeling the lace on the very tips of his fingers. He wanted to relish this.
He turned his gaze to look directly into her eyes. He savored his brief moment in control before dipping his finger beneath lace and cotton, groaning as his fingers met the wet, warm pools for the first time. He delicately moved one finger deeper into her. Still looking at her, he slid his finger along her folds, getting to know her hidden depths, before moving upward toward the knot of nerves at the top of her sex. As he circled the nub, he saw her eyes darken and felt her back arch.
“Oh f*cking sh*t,” she exhaled. She knew from the way he touched her that he knew exactly what a cl*tor*s was and what his touch did to her. Thank god.
Too soon for her liking, Draco returned his finger to her increasing wetness. “This will do,” he whispered as she moaned into his touch. With the last shred of control, he reached down with both hands, sliding her underwear down her silky legs, savoring the moment when he discarded them for good. Her skirt was next.
He brought his lips down to the inner thigh above her knee, slowly kissing and licking up her skin. She was losing herself to the desire, not yet anticipating the move he was planning to play next.
“Can I taste you, Granger?” His gravelly voice reached her through the haze. Her eyes flew open and looked down to meet his piercing greys. “God yes. Don’t stop.” She gasped as she felt his warm tongue meet her slit. She searched for something, anything to grab onto, clutching the fabric beneath her hands, as his tongue began discovering the inner part of her. His slow circles picked up speed, she arched her back. “Holy sh*t.”
Her eyes flew open as his tongue found her knot of tension. The circles closing in rapidly now, increasing the intensity of his tongue’s pressure. She felt all the tension in her body flood to that one small point. He gripped the sides of her hips to steady her writhing curves. The electric charge built in her lower abdomen as his tongue steadily intensified its movements. One of her hands unfurled itself from the bedcovers and reached down to rake itself through his blonde hair, holding on for the rest of the ride, as if she was afraid she might fall off.
God. She tasted so good. Like a fine Scotch, optimally aged. He lapped at her juices, forcing himself not to rush his movements. He felt her hand run through his hair and his tongue instinctively intensified its work. His mouth took residence over her cl*t, intoxicated by how she responded to his touch. The grip on his hair grew tighter and he knew she was reaching her peak. He stroked his thumb along her opening, dipping a finger in to feel her tighten around his touch.
“Right there,” she moaned, but he knew. He knew exactly where she needed it.
“Oh god, Malfoy,” her voice grew louder as she struggled to contain the intensity brimming inside her. The electric energy concentrated in her center exploded in a shower of currents surging through her body. She screamed, feeling the electricity reach every inch of her body.
He felt her walls close in around his fingers as he continued licking at her wet folds. When the shudder coursed through her body, he made sure not to lift his mouth from her until she came down on the other side of her climax.
She tried to regain her breath. Certain that she had been satisfied, Draco stood and removed his boxers before kissing his way up her stomach, lingering once he reached her breasts, still frustratingly contained behind her lace bra. We’ll fix that soon. His lips moved up to her neck, while one hand moved up to her hair, taking hold of her curls as his hot breath scorched her skin.
Half recovered, she felt goosebumps on her skin as Draco’s lips and hands continued to worship her. He is relentless. She snaked her hand into his hair once more and tipped his head so that his lips were exposed to her. They looked into each other’s eyes, reflecting the same need and desire. Her eyes moved down to his lips, grateful for the pleasure they had given her moments before. He licked his lips and her eyes flew back up to meet his. She smiled at the mischievous twinkle that danced across his grey depths.
He positioned himself on top of her and she sighed as she felt his weight. She loved the heaviness of a man on top of her and she relished the feeling before opening her legs to either side of him, enveloping him as her feet connected behind him. They kissed. Gently, at first, savoring the calm before the storm. She could feel his still hard co*ck against her seeping wet opening. The kiss deepened, her tongue seeking out his, tasting a bit of herself still on his lips. She had a new appreciation for his tongue now, meeting its movements with her own. She felt the familiar tingle on her skin return and moaned into his mouth as she realized the tension in her lower abdomen was beginning to build again too.
Every time he kissed her, he momentarily lost his mind. When he regained focus, his hand traveled down to the cup of her bra, his thumb circling her nipple through the fabric. She bit his lip in retaliation and he smiled into their kiss. He slid his hand underneath her back, quickly unlatching the hooks of her bra. He swept his hand back to her front, running his fingers along one strap and slowly pulling it over her shoulder. His lips left her mouth and found their way to the skin where her strap had been, caressing the spot with his tongue as his other hand found the second strap, pulling it down over her other shoulder.
Hermione rolled her hips up to rub her wet opening along his hard shaft. He was taking too f*cking long and it drove her out of her mind. Entertained by her impatience, his lips and fingers abandoned the work of removing her bra altogether.
“Goddammit Malfoy.” She could feel the tension in her body mounting. He chuckled into her neck as he reached down to remove her bra, tossing it behind him quickly. She exhaled in relief as his eyes traveled down to her exposed breasts. As he took in the sight of her, she could feel a twitch where their bodies met below.
He took her right breast into his hot, wet mouth, swirling his gifted tongue around her nipple and gently sucking on her flesh before repeating his movements on her other breast. Hermione closed her eyes and tipped her head back into the soft mattress. Her hands softly fell to the sides of his head, absent-mindedly stroking her fingers through his hair. Her heart rate began to speed up as she lost herself to the moment.
Draco began to rock his hips gently, letting his length caress her opening and keenly aware that his tip brushed over her cl*t each time he rocked upwards. She moaned, acknowledging that she knew what he was doing.
“I want to feel you inside of me,” she said softly with her eyes still closed in ecstasy. His face grew serious as he understood that this was the point of no return.
“Granger, look at me.” Her eyes fluttered open, meeting the intensity of his gaze. “Say it again.” She lifted her head and look at him with clarity in her eyes.
“I need you…” she panted as she reached down and took him in her firm grasp. “…inside me,” placing his tip at her opening, just enough to skim her wetness. “Now.”
The proximity to her slick opening made his body shake with anticipation. With one slow thrust, Draco entered her, taking his time in reaching her depths. Her walls were wet and tight as they expanded to accommodate him. When he felt the entire length of him inside her, he let out a ragged breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding in.
She loved how he filled her up completely. As he pulled his length out from her, she felt desperate to feel full again. As he moved back into her, her legs instinctively drew his hips in faster as her own hips came up to meet his thrust. “f*cking hell, Granger.” He stayed inside her for a moment as she noticed beads of sweat forming at his temples. He pulled out, but unwilling to be unsheathed from her for too long, quickly slid back in, picking up the pace steadily with each thrust. He rolled his hips rhythmically, finding a natural groove with her own movements. She sighed in relief as it became clear he had no intention of hammering his co*ck into her mindlessly. His thrusts were smooth and controlled, taking her on the journey with him. She bit her lip as she began to feel the tension recharge inside of her.
He saw her take her bottom lip in between her teeth and his thrusts began to intensify as he fought to maintain control of his movements. He reached down and grabbed hold of one of her breasts, kneading the flesh beneath him. She reached her arms behind his back, pulling him closer to her, feeling the full weight of him on her as their bodies rocked in motion together. His head fell into her soft brown curls as he whispered, “oh god.”
She was distantly aware that sounds—possibly loud sounds—were escaping her mouth, unable to stop the energy from gathering within her core. Her hips smashed into his with increasing urgency, as they traded screams of mounting anticipation. And then the switch inside her flipped, sending electricity shooting through her veins once again. She arched into the org*sm, crying out as the shock waves pulsed through her body.
He felt her walls vibrate around him as he slid inside her one more time. A powerful surge reached him, as if he had just been struck by lightning. He cried out as he felt himself come inside her. Shuddering as he succumbed to the aftershock.
He fell limp on top of her and her weak arms wrapped themselves around him. They stayed this way, catching their breath, for a few moments. Finally he fell off of her to her side, keeping a warm hand on the smooth, taut skin of her stomach.
She sighed. “Too bad this is the last night at Hogwarts. We could have been having great sex this whole year.”
His mind fluttered to the idea of repeating their night in all the nooks and crannies of the old castle. Then he realized that their time at Hogwarts was indeed almost over. He smiled at how he had spent so many years at the school hating and taunting Hermione Granger, only for all those years of animosity to be upturned in one night. He looked at her and felt himself tense as he caught a familiar glint of desire cross her golden brown eyes.
“Well, let’s make the most of tonight then,” he growled as he took her face in his hands and met her lips with his.
