dralione

The door was cracked open just enough that he could see the sanity-crumbling vision inside, unsure if the slip in privacy was intentional or not. Nevertheless, Draco stayed frozen outside the crack, unable to move as he watched his fellow Head pleasure herself. 

Her curls were scattered around the pillows as she threw her head back, one hand over her plush mouth, the other working between her legs. They were spread, but her skirt was obstructing his view, much to his annoyance. 

Her deep breaths filled the room, then turned into a heavy sigh as she dropped her hands to the bed. Draco frowned. That didn’t sound like a relaxed sigh, that sounded rather frustrated (he was suddenly aware that he knew the minute differences between Granger’s multitudinous loud exhales). 

Well, he could not in good conscience let the witch go about her day frustrated. That wouldn’t be good for her or anyone who got in her way (namely, him). Tapping lightly on the door, he poked his head in. “You sound in need of assistance, Granger.”

Yanking the sheets over her semi-nude body, she glared at him. “What are you doing? I didn’t say you could come in.”

“I’m not in,” he pointed out smugly, motioning at his feet, which were firmly planted outside the door frame. “I was passing by and your sigh almost blew me down the stairs so I thought I’d better make sure you hadn’t come down with Wizarding Whooping Cough or the like.” It was a little stretching of the truth, perhaps, but just because he wasn’t a bigoted little prick anymore didn’t mean he wasn’t still a Slytherin through and through. 

“I’m not ill, Malfoy, thanks for your concern,” she rolled her eyes doubtfully. 

“Still, clearly something is wrong. Anything I can help with? I’m particularly good at fixing problems…” he hinted. 

With another aggrieved sigh, she sat up, the sheets dropping to her waist. His gaze darted down to the open placket of her shirt, where her breasts poked through the gap, then back up to her face. 

“Can you try and make me come?” she asked at last. “I get close but I just can’t go the final distance.”

He preened a little at her asking him to help, and also the admission that he was the only one who could make her come. “Delighted to be of service.” He entered her room posthaste, kicking off his loafers and settling on her bed. 

She spread her legs, pulling the sheets away, and he ran his finger up her slit. 

“Oh, you’re dripping,” he noted in mild surprise. 

“Malfoy, please,” she gritted out, and he glanced up at her with a smirk.

“Don’t worry, love, I won’t let you stay frustrated a moment longer.” Sliding his middle finger into her wet cunt, he rubbed around her clit with his thumb, setting a steady rhythm, gradually speeding up. He could feel the tension in her muscles, her need to come, so he didn’t drag out his teasing, as much as he would have liked to. 

Working in his pointer finger alongside the other, he leaned down and gently bit at her nipples. 

“Come on, Granger, you can do it.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, holding him close to her, her legs closing around his as much as they could. Her head fell back as she moaned his name, muscles trembling all over as she finally came. He kept his movements up, working her through the orgasm and its aftershocks, until she finally stilled and relaxed, slumping back against her bed. 

“There you go, good girl. Bet you feel pretty good now, huh?”

She parted one eye to look him over suspiciously, then closed it again, nodding. Her hands were still around his shoulders, fingers playing softly with the hairs at his neck. It felt a little ticklish but mostly comforting. He didn’t hate it.

“Did you want me to get you off now?” she asked him huskily, still a puddle of good hormones melted onto her bed.

“No, it’s okay. You look pretty done in,” he told her. “Besides, I’m your teacher, not…” he trailed off, staring at her rosy lips. It would be so easy to just…lean down…just a hair…

Her brown eyes opened suddenly and he stared at her, frozen a breath above her.

“Oh, I wanted to discuss that with you.”

“Huh?” was his eloquent response.

“Our lessons. I mean, it doesn’t seem quite fair, upon reflection.”

You letting me touch you? Obviously not. Don’t say you want to quit, please. A multitude of thoughts ran through his head at that pronouncement. “Oh?” was all his strangled vocal chords allowed. 

She nodded. “Yeah, I mean, you get me off every time, but I only got you off last time. It should be reciprocal, shouldn’t it? And then the nights you’re teaching me, you can’t sleep with someone who knows what they’re doing, that you actually like. You’re really at quite a disadvantage, I would say.”

He blinked at her, finally moving off her and to sit at the foot of the bed, staring at her. “First of all, it doesn’t always have to be reciprocal, as long as both sides agree to it. And I don’t mind, I don’t want to overwhelm you too soon. As for being with someone I like…there’s no one I’d rather be with.”

She looked down at that, clearing her throat. “Oh.”

“Are we…good?” he asked when the silence dragged on.

She glanced up, blinking out of her thoughts. “Oh, yeah. We’re good. Thanks for the orgasm.”

“Anytime,” he called, walking out and shutting the door behind him. Leaning against it, he blew out a breath. “‘There’s no one I’d rather be with’? What was that? Just tell her you’re in love with her while you’re at it, blockhead.”

-`♡´-

Hermione awoke with a gasp, taken from sleep just before her dream-self had come. The persistent throbbing in her core alerted her to the fact that she’d truly just had her first dirty dream. 

Since that first orgasm Malfoy had given her, her libido had increased tremendously. It seemed she was almost always horny during the day, and now even in her sleep. To make matters worse, she had been dreaming about Malfoy getting her off. Very lovingly. Murmuring words of endearment and paying such close attention to her and showering her with praise…well, that had been a little too nice. Surely she wasn’t developing…feelings…for Malfoy!

Pulling her uniform on, she paused over buttoning up her shirt. It was the weekend, surely she could have a bit of a lie-in for once.

Scooching up the bed, she slipped her hand between her legs. Her fingers circled her clit, her head dropping back as the pleasurable sensation hit. She could feel herself get closer and closer to the edge, muscles tensing and hole dripping as she moved her fingers faster and faster.

Her orgasm was within reach…and then it died, her mind taken from the moment and unable to let go. Huffing out a breath of annoyance, she scooped up some of her juices and resumed her circular movements. She was still aroused, it should only take a couple minutes to get her close again…

And again…

The third time her brain pulled her from the edge of her orgasm, she lay back with the loudest sigh of annoyance yet. 

A knock on her door echoed throughout her room and Malfoy stuck his head in. “You sound in need of assistance, Granger.”

Realising she was only half-dressed, she pulled her sheets over her in an attempt at modesty. Not like he hadn’t seen it before, but she’d been expecting it then. “What are you doing? I didn’t say you could come in.”

“I’m not in,” he said with an annoyingly smug grin, utilising his Slytherin word-twisting abilities. “I was passing by and your sigh almost blew me down the stairs so I thought I’d better make sure you hadn’t come down with Wizarding Whooping Cough or the like.” 

“I’m not ill, Malfoy, thanks for your concern.” She said shortly, ignoring the way her traitorous brain was suggesting she invite him in to play doctor.

He ignored her brush -off and offered his help again. She couldn’t take it anymore, his perfectly styled hair and his neat uniform resting so invitingly across his broadening frame. Fuck it, she thought. This was the year she was going to do what she wanted, screw what the Wizarding World wanted. She’d saved it last year, the least they could afford her was her unjudged freedom this year. 

With another aggrieved sigh, she sat up, letting the sheets drop to her waist. His hot gaze took her revelation in flatteringly before he stared at her face. 

“Can you try and make me come?” she asked at last. “I get close but I just can’t go the final distance.”

He smirked smugly (did he ever smirk any other way?) and stepped in eagerly. “Delighted to be of service.”

Good, keep being a smug little arse to me. Remind me why I’ve hated you for the past seven years, she thought, but then his fingers were in her cunt filling her perfectly and his thumb was circling her clit with the right amount of pressure and his teeth were on her nipple and-

She finally fell over the edge with a relieved cry, not even prepared for that fast and hard orgasm, writhing and moaning in pleasure. 

Finally coming down from her high, she realised with a start she was playing with his hair and they were incredibly close together. If she leaned up she could brush her lips against his an- no, Hermione. Bad. You had one rule when you started this and this is only the third time. Do not kiss Malfoy.

“Do you want me to get you off now?” she offered. She’d realised with a fair bit of horrified embarrassment that the first time they’d started these lessons that only she had come. How selfish of her, although she had also been more than a little knackered at that point as well. It wasn’t like she had a detailed outline of what was going to happen with her vast expertise in these matters. Nonetheless, she was determined to make up for it and discuss future…reciprocations with him. …And also sabotage her possible crush by pointing out how he could be with someone he actually liked and knew what they were doing. Great going, Hermione.

Surprisingly, he turned her down, leaving her to work through his words to her about reciprocal experiences and all that. 

“...As for being with someone I like…there’s no one I’d rather be with.”

What did he just say?! She looked down in confusion, too flustered to say anything other than, “Oh.”

“Are we…good?”

What does he mean by that? What does he mean with any of these strange things he’d been saying and doing lately?!

She glanced up, blinking out of her thoughts. “Oh, yeah. We’re good. Thanks for the orgasm.” Wow, way to be awkward. You’re doing so well being someone he’d like.

“Anytime,” he called, walking out and shutting the door behind him. Probably to escape from that unbearably awkward experience. So far, their lessons hadn’t been as uncomfortable as she’d suspected, largely thanks to his commitment to making sure she was relaxed. Why, after he’d made her come and they were simply talking, was it so embarrassing, then?

Turning onto her stomach, she burrowed her head in her pillows and let out a yell.

“Yes, actually.”

“Oh.” His eyebrows brushed the fringes of his still-damp locks falling onto his forehead in an effortlessly casual manner. “Well then, what can I do for you?” “Are you doing anything tonight?”

“I was probably going to check out the party Hufflepuff is hosting before I did my rounds…” he replied slowly, searching her face for any clue towards what she was angling for. “I wasn’t particularly looking forward to it; I can skip if you need me for something.”

She glanced down at their feet, shoes almost touching, then back up. “No, enjoy the party. I can do the rounds if you want to stay later. I was just wondering if you’d want to have another lesson, but if you were going to meet someone else…”

“We can do the rounds together, Granger, I don’t mind leaving the party,” he said, reaching for her hand. “And I’d love to have another lesson with you. I wondered how long it would take before you wanted another,” he confessed.

She blinked. He’d been so normal after That Night that she’d half-wondered if he’d gotten what he wanted from her and was done, but she knew that wasn’t fair. It was nice to hear he’d been thinking about it, too. She offered him a small smile. “After rounds, then?”

“After rounds,” he confirmed, squeezing her fingers softly. “Shall we head inside out of this weather? It feels like a storm is coming.”

-`♡´-

Their rounds were the same as always, companionable quiet occasionally broken by one of them mentioning something from class or an interesting tidbit from some book they were reading recently. The same as it had always been, but also something new. They walked closer together than ever before, their fingers almost brushing several times as they rounded corners or gestured as they talked. A sort of anticipation sparked between them, knowing what they were going to do once this was over. The rounds seemed to be both shorter and longer than usual, their steps quicker than other days and the wait dragging the time out impossibly long. 

She wondered if this was what it was like to have a significant other, knowing you could go back to your room with them and engage in passionate trysts, a secret knowledge carried between two lovers in public. 

She was more confident tonight, more comfortable baring her most authentic self to her old rival and new friend, but a little trickle of nervousness circled through her as well, suspecting they’d go farther than the other night. Preparing for tonight had occupied her time while Malfoy was at the party, her free reign of their shared bathroom a luxury she indulged in to the fullest, shaving and primping in front of the mirror longer than usual. It had taken her fifteen minutes to decide on which set of lingerie to wear, and she only had two nice pairs, not having had much use for them in the past. 

She hoped he appreciated the effort, although maybe he wouldn’t even notice it, having not removed her bottoms the previous time. What if he’d remembered her comment about baggage and scars and decided she wasn’t attractive enough anymore? Or was simply too scared to look? She wasn’t sure what she’d do if that was the case. 

Rounds completed, they headed back to their dorms, Malfoy letting her through first. He collected another glass of water from the sink, but she waited for him this time. 

He tilted his head curiously at her still standing there, but said nothing as he approached her and began to climb the stairs to their rooms, his hand on her lower back a surprisingly comfortable warmth and weight. 

They turned into her room again, and she was thankful she’d had enough time left after her ablutions that evening to tidy up her multitudinous stacks of books and put away her scattered unmentionables. 

The glass went onto her nightstand and he turned to face her, his hands on her shoulders. “Remember what to say if you need to end things or take a break?”

“‘Stop’ and ‘pause’,” she recalled. 

“Good girl,” he praised. “Did you have anything you wanted to do tonight? Surely you had some plans since you approached me.”

“I’m curious about going down on someone,” she admitted. 

“Giving, receiving, or both?” he asked noncommittally.

 “Both, I suppose.”

“That can be arranged,” he nodded. “Which would you like to start with?” His thumbs stroked soothing motions across her collarbones, sending a slight shiver through her.

“Giving?”

“Say what you want like you mean it, Granger,” he told her. 

“Giving. I want to go down on you,” she repeated more firmly. 

“Good job.” He unbuttoned his trousers and pulled his shirttails out, hanging loosely around his hips. 

“Can I take your shirt off?”

A hint of surprise crossed his face. “If you’d like.” He sat on the edge of her bed, leaning back as she leaned forward to loosen his tie and undo the buttons. Once they were freed he helped her tug the tie and shirt off, leaving him only in his trousers and pants. 

She settled on her knees in front of him, glancing up to see his frozen expression. “What?”

He shook himself. “Nothing. One second.” He cast a Cushioning charm on a pillow and settled it underneath her, tossing his wand onto her nightstand. “There you go. Comfortable?”

“Very. Now what?” She eyed the prominent bulge at the front of his trousers, knowing it wasn’t his wand. 

“Now you take my cock out and do what you want to it…maybe don’t bite it, though.”

Ignoring the shiver that ran through her at the way he said ‘cock’, she tugged his trousers and pants down. 

“How vague,” she said as he lifted his hips to help her undress him. Once his cock was freed, she stared at it, unsure if it was good etiquette or not, but unable to look away. 

It was smaller than her brain had been convincing her it would be, but still larger than she thought would fit inside her. Other than the slight worry about the size, she thought it quite suited him: pretty, smooth except for a prominent vein along the underside, and a mouthwatering flushed pink. She licked her lips unconsciously as she gently stroked her fingers along it. It twitched, and she glanced up at him, unsure if it was a good twitch or not.

His bottom lip was between his teeth, and his grey eyes were almost black. 

“You’re doing so well, Granger,” he promised. “It won’t hurt to be firmer or wrap your fingers around it, if you want.”

She did want, and so she did as he instructed. The firmer, longer strokes made a funny noise escape Malfoy, and she wanted to hear him make it again. Unable to resist any longer, she leaned forward and licked the reddened tip, causing the noise again. 

The weight of his hand fell on her head and she glanced up to see his face screwed up in pleasure, one hand tightly gripping her sheets as the other dug into her curls. 

She licked him again, then tried to fit her mouth around him. It took a bit of getting used to, fitting him in yet wanting to keep her teeth away lest she bite him by accident, but she figured it out. Slowly she bobbed her head up and down, attempting to fit all of him in her mouth. There was no way she could, but she did her best. The vein lay against her flattened tongue and she was suddenly struck by the urge to trace the tip along it. 

He groaned, his fingers flexing in her hair. “You’re doing such a good job sucking my cock, Granger. Don’t worry about deepthroating tonight,” he added as she tried once again to take all of him in her mouth. “Maybe use your tongue a bit more,” he directed. 

She pulled off, sucking only on the head and using her tongue to trace every texture and ridge. It dipped into the slit and he groaned again, his hips bucking. 

Sensitive at the tip, she noted smugly. Wrapping her fingers around his length and stroking again as she sucked at the head seemed to be a good combo, going by his reactions. Finally he pulled her off, looking rather shocked. “I’m close,” he informed her, placing his hand over hers as she continued to jerk him off. “You’re a bloody natural.”

She preened under his praise, following his hand’s subtle directives as they worked him together until his cum spurted out, covering their hands and his stomach. He summoned a cloth and began wiping up the mess, but she brought her fingers up to her mouth, tongue flicking out to taste the white substance. She’d heard things about it and wanted to experience it for herself. It wasn’t too bad, she decided; if he let her, next time, she’d like to try swallowing. 

He looked at her incredulously, cloth-hand paused over his cum-covered one. “Did you–”

“Yes? I wanted to try it, I heard…things…Do you mind?”

He shook his head vigorously. “Not at all, I just thought you might.”

She shrugged, heart warming at the thought of him thinking of her. “I don’t. I want to do that again but try swallowing next time.”

“Whatever you want,” he swallowed hard. Finishing up his cleaning, he lifted her off her knees and tossed the pillow back against the bed. “Did you want to end things here? Or try receiving head now? Whatever you like.”

“I’d like to experience being gone down on,” she admitted. 

“Prepare for more ‘earth-shattering’ then,” he smirked, scooping her up and tossing her against the pillows. 

She frowned at him, ignoring the fluttering in her stomach and other parts. He settled between her legs, running his hands up and down her calves, making her glad she’d shaved and moisturised earlier.

“I knew you were going to be an arse about that.”

He grinned up at her unrepentantly. “Please, like I don’t deserve it. Allow me to remind you.” His fingers yanked at her tie, loosening it and tugging it over her head, throwing it to some corner of the room. The buttons down her shirt were next to be freed, and she shimmied the shirt off, leaving it to join the tie’s fate. Malfoy’s appreciative gaze took in her lingerie choices, a pale blue lacy bra with cute satin bows between the breasts and where the cups met the straps. 

His finger reverently traced the longest purple scar from her left breast down to her right hip, but he didn’t say anything about it. He let her remove her skirt and stockings, dropping them to the floor to sit tall in her matching blue lacy knickers and bra, scars uncovered and proud. 

“You’re fit as hell,” he whistled flatteringly, his eyes dragging slowly up and down her body. 

“Thanks,” she whispered. 

“Can I kiss your scars?” he asked, already halfway down her chest before he paused and glanced up at her.

She shrugged uncomfortably, unused to being so open with someone. “If you really want to.”

She bit her lip as his pressed softly over the epicentre of one of the worst reminders of the war. 

He kissed all the way up and down her, not leaving any scar untouched. “May I remove your underwear, Granger?” he asked when all the revealed scar tissue had been covered by his lips. 

“Okay…but I don’t want you to kiss my scars anymore.”

He looked a little sad as she requested that, but nodded. “I’ll leave your scars alone from now on. Thank you for letting me touch them tonight.” 

Underwear gone, she settled back against the pillows and let him get comfy between her legs. 

Ducking his head, he blew a stream of cool air against her core, causing her to jolt in surprise. Moving up her body, he kissed and licked at her neck, finding the spots where she was most sensitive with his memory of the previous time. His left hand circled her nipple and played with her breasts, while his right stroked up her leg, moving closer to the apex of her thighs with each pass. 

“Should’ve known you were a bloody tease,” she huffed, feeling nerves all over her body come alive in a tantalising shiver. 

He nipped at her breast, making her squeak. “Someone’s feeling braver today; those are some dangerous words to tell the person making you feel good. You’re lucky I’m not introducing you to edging…yet.”

She bit her lip to hold back any further antagonistic comments. 

Despite her annoyance at his slow pace, she could feel the way it was working to turn her on, her cunt clenching around nothing as she felt his returned hard-on brush against her thigh. 

Popping off her nipple, he licked a stripe down her abdomen. His fingers grazed over the skin under her navel, tickling her and causing her muscles to jump strangely. Finally he settled in front of her cunt, hooking her legs over his shoulders, forcing her wide, and brought his thumbs up to part her sticky folds. She blushed a little at the hungry look on his face, but then he licked up the middle and all thoughts fled her head, her thighs clenching around him at the unexpected shiver he caused. 

Smirking at her, he licked again, this time laving more purposefully over her clit, focusing on the nub and circling it with the right amount of pressure to have her muscles seizing like they had the first night. He moved his hand so he could prod at her hole, gently running his finger around the edge before pushing in shallowly. It felt…different, but then he suctioned his mouth over her clit and began a pulsing sucking rhythm, making her clutch his hair and whine his name repeatedly. 

She wasn’t sure what she was saying, possibly cursing him, possibly proposing to him as she fell over the edge, clutching him to her with everything she had as her head fell back and her breathing hitched. Sparks of fire flew up her torso while sparks of ice spread down her legs, a Bombarda setting off behind her eyelids. 

She lay back, panting, keeping her eyes closed as she caught her breath. She didn’t need to see his smug smirk, sure to be even wider than when he’d given her that first orgasm. 

The sound of him slurping up her juices off his fingers finally reached her ears and she cracked open her eyes, realising she still had a death grip on his hair. Releasing him with a start, she pushed herself up. “That was…wow. Thanks, Malfoy.”

“Just wow? Not earth-shattering, life-changing, a religious experience, nothing? Just wow?” he asked her. “I’ll take that to mean I made you speechless then,” the smug prat said. He had, but it was awfully presumptuous of him to assume her meaning behind her comment. 

“Prat,” she yawned, shoving gently at his shoulder with her toes, which were still hooked over his arms. 

He mumbled something under his breath, probably refuting her claim, but released her feet after pressing a kiss to each of her ankles. 

Handing her the glass of water, he pulled his pants on and covered her with her sheets, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Remember to use the loo,” he reminded her, completely ignoring the way he was at least semi-hard again. 

She tore her eyes away from the bulge, flattered that he appeared to have such a strong reaction to her. Merlin, had he gotten that from going down on her? Well, she supposed she’d been pretty wet after she’d sucked him off.

“Are you going to avoid me for the next few days again?” he asked her, hands pausing as he pulled his trousers up. 

“Er…I’ll try not to.”

“Alright. Let me know when you want to do this again, then.” He collected his shirt and tie but didn’t bother to put them on, slinging them over his arm instead. 

“Malfoy.”

He turned, hand on the knob. “Yes, Granger?”

Why had she said that?

“Do you, um…nevermind. Have a good sleep.”

“You too,” he said, and then he was gone.

Despite having an ‘earth-shattering, life-changing, religious experience’ orgasm, it took her a while to fall asleep that night, and for once it wasn’t because of the nightmares.

“What are you reading this late?” He snatched the book from her hands, flipping to the title page interestedly. Just because the War was behind them and they were on decent terms now that he’d apologised and grown more than a few inches of character didn’t mean he couldn’t still irritate her. Wasn’t that what friends did? She’d been particularly adamant about befriending him and the rest of the Slytherins as well this year, for reasons he couldn’t possibly fathom and had given up trying to understand, so really, she’d brought it upon herself.

“Ooh, Hermione Granger is reading erotica!” he gasped sarcastically, covering up the fact that he was actually surprised. 

“Give that back!” she grabbed for the book, but he had almost a foot on her and easily held it out of her reach.

“Ask nicely, Granger,” he tutted, flipping through the pages. “Let’s see, what scandalous scenes have you been reading about?”

“Please give my book back, Malfoy,” she forced out, holding her hand out.

He considered it. “Hm…no.”

“Malfoy!”

He thought it was funny that she forgot she was a witch and could use a myriad of spells to get it back. Skimming the content of the miserably inaccurate book, he lowered it slightly and gave her an aggrieved look. “Please tell me you read this to laugh at it and not because it gets you off,” he said. “This is miserably inaccurate.”

The pink became a lovely shade of rose at his mention of ‘getting off’. “My reading habits are none of your business. I’m an adult and can read what I like for reasons I have no need to explain to you.”

“Do it anyway,” he encouraged her. “I’ll give it back if you tell me why you’re reading this.”

She huffed and crossed her arms, pushing her breasts up, as she considered his words. They’d lived in the Head Dorms together for months by now, and she knew how stubborn and petty he could be. He could see her brain working the pros and cons of answering versus hexing him and stealing her book back.

“I read it because I was curious about sex, okay?”

He stared at her, letting his hand drop enough that she darted forward and retrieved it, holding it to her chest protectively as she glared warningly up at him. 

“You…were curious…about sex?”

“Yes, and what about it?” she snapped.

“Surely you’ve shagged someone by now, Granger. Weasley? Krum? Potter? Some Muggle?”

“No, I haven’t. I was too busy with school and fighting a war and didn’t have the brainspace to care about shagging some bloke when I didn’t even know if I’d survive the next year. I didn’t want to just lose my virginity in some meaningless shag and have it be over with. I wanted a connection, a friendship at the very least, someone I was comfortable being my naked, most authentic self with.” She tilted her chin up at him proudly. “I have scars and wounds and baggage, and I’d be bringing all that with me into bed.”

“I have a big bed,” was what Draco heard himself say in dawning horror. What did he just imply?!

She stared at him. He stared back. “Malfoy, what are you…”

Some of her Gryffindor courage must have rubbed off on him some time in the last few months, because he simply took a deep breath and said, “I’m offering to teach you how to shag. Properly. So you don’t traumatise some bloke when you follow terrible ancient advice.”

She stared at him even harder, and he half expected a repeat of third year’s assault, but instead, her shoulders dropped and she let out a breath. “Fine. Teach me how to have sex, O Sex God of Slytherin.”

He dropped his head back on his shoulders. “Never call me that again.”

She smirked. “No promises.”

-`♡´-

The walk back to their dorms was quiet. Draco wouldn’t have been surprised if she had told him she’d changed her mind when they entered the shared living space, but she didn’t. She simply stepped out of her shoes, tossed her jumper over the back of the chair closest to the door, and stated her terms and conditions. 

“One rule: no kissing.”

“No kissing?”

“No kissing. I may be letting you teach me how to…do everything else…but I draw the line at you kissing me.”

“Ouch, Granger. You really know how to make a man feel wanted,” he laid a hand across his chest.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, turning towards her room. “Are you coming?”

“Be there in a second, Granger. Go ahead and get comfy.” He watched her ascend the stairs to the bedrooms, her hips swaying and a hint of the shadow of her arse revealed by her pyjama shorts. 

Shaking his head in disbelief at what he was about to do, he collected his sanity in the minute he was away from her distracting influence, along with a glass of water. 

She was waiting on her bed when he knocked and entered her room, sheets and quilt kicked down around her knees. Her curls were spread around the pillows she leant against, one hand resting on her stomach and the other fiddling her wand between her fingers. 

He placed the glass on the nightstand on the side of the bed he stood by. “May I join you?”

She nodded. 

He climbed on and knelt in front of her, knowing the moonlight coming through the curtainless window would be enough to see each other clearly. “Granger, from now on, you listen to me, okay? If I ask you something, you respond verbally, even if it’s just a yes or a no. If you want to stop at any time, just say stop, or if you want a break, say pause. Those will be your safewords. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she nodded, then bit her lip to stop from saying more. 

He gently tugged it out from under her teeth, his thumb feeling the smoothness of her lips and making him wish he could taste them. He hated her rule. Surely she could have come up with something better than that to be the hill she died on to pretend she had control and knew what she was doing?

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he ordered softly. “I want to hear everything you’re thinking and feeling tonight. This works best with communication; instincts only get you so far.”

“I thought it was only really kinky stuff that needed safewords,” she admitted. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“Everyone needs a safeword, Granger,” he explained patiently. “Even if it’s the most vanilla stuff out there. ‘Stop’ is the same as ‘red’ or ‘Quidditch’ or whatever other safeword you pick. If you’d feel safer with some other words, then pick one. But your instincts will tell you to say ‘stop’ if you feel uncomfortable, so I figured we’d keep it simple since you’ll be busy learning and feeling new things.”

“Oh. That makes sense. Sorry, I’m just a little nervous,” she admitted, her wand now flicking through both hands’ fingers. 

“That’s perfectly understandable. If you have any more questions, just ask. It’s why we’re doing this, after all. And I want you to be comfortable.”

“You’re surprisingly…considerate? Responsible? About this,” she told him. 

He was sure he looked a little offended. “I take my partners’ safety and comfortability seriously,” he informed her. “Surely you knew that on some level if you asked me to do this.”

She shifted a little, eyes trained on her wand. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound…like that. It’s just…a new angle I’m seeing you from.”

“I understand.” He gripped her chin in his hand, tilting it up to face him. “But I have one more rule I’d like you to follow. Keep your eyes on me when I’m facing you. I can tell a lot about you from your eyes, and I’ve got a lot on the line here, okay? What if you don’t look at me and I mess something up and then scar you from sex for life?”

A small giggle escaped her and she rolled her eyes, a little more fondly this time. “Got it. And I’m sure that won’t happen…you’re already doing a wonderful job of reassuring me.”

He was mildly surprised that a) she was feeling that and b) she admitted it to his face, but he was glad she did. It calmed the few nerves he’d revealed to her through his joke. 

“Thank you for saying that, Granger,” he said, releasing her chin. “Alright, since you’ve nixed snogging, that means I’ve got to get creative with starting my foreplay. How about…” he considered her for a second, the moonlight highlighting her blush as he casually mentioned sexual acts. What a sweet little ingenue. 

“Can I sit behind you?”

She nodded, then caught herself, moving out of the way. “Yes.”

“Good girl,” he tried, watching as the blush deepened. Ha, he knew she had a praise kink. He wondered how many of his other speculations would turn out to be correct, though some would take another several sessions to work up to…he hoped she allowed him to get that far. 

Propping the pillows behind him, he relaxed, then patted his spread legs. “Come sit against me, nice and close. Just get comfy, okay?”

“Okay.” She crawled back onto her bed, scooching back until her butt was flush against his crotch and her back rested on his chest. He silently spat out the curls that attempted to make their way into his mouth and choke him (he was into giving, not receiving) and moved her hair to one side. 

“Comfy? Good. Now, just relax. Don’t worry about anything that may or may not happen tonight. Just focus on my touches in the here and now, okay?”

“Alright.” She shifted a little more, a bit of tenseness escaping her.

Good. He’d have to start slow. Bringing his hands to hers, he slowly fitted his fingers between hers, getting her used to his touch on a non-private body part. Her hands were much smaller than his, her fingers on the shorter side, and what he thought was slightly warmer than normal. 

Slowly he began dragging their twined hands up and down her arms, light touches, just to get her used to him. 

“You’re doing so well. Just keep relaxing, focusing on me. I’m going to let go of your hands now and touch the rest of your body, okay? You tell me when something feels good. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Draco,” she nodded, and fuck if that didn’t make him a little harder, hearing her soft voice saying his name like that. 

“Good girl.” He freed their hands and let one slowly slide across her belly while the other moved up to her neck, his forearm fitting between her breasts. He didn’t wrap his fingers around her neck, although he wanted to, instead sticking to light strokes along her neck.

“Can I kiss your body?” He leaned forward, asking into her ear. 

“Okay,” she agreed. “I like your voice in my ear.”

“Good girl, telling me what you like,” he purred, punctuating his praise with a soft kiss where her neck met her shoulder. The hand across her stomach moved slowly upward, brushing the bottom of her breast.

“Oh,” she said softly, tensing a little then relaxing. 

He tried a little more pressure, and she made the noise again. “Was that better, or did you prefer the lighter touches?”

“Hm, do it again.”

He acquiesced, repeating his motions on both breasts, just to be sure. 

“I’m not sure, I like them both.”

“That’s good.” He left a short trail of kisses up her neck to her ear. “Can you feel yourself becoming aroused, Granger?”

A little intake of breath as he closed his teeth gently around her earlobe. “Yes.”

“Good.” The pad of his thumb brushed over her nipple, and he felt her toes twitch. Smirking to himself, he did it again. Trailing his fingers down her neck to her other breast, he gently lifted them in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples. 

“Will you let me take your top off?”

In answer, her hands shot to the hem of her shirt, but he closed his over hers, tutting at her. “Words, Granger, and also I asked if I could take it off, not if you could.”

He could feel her rolling her eyes, but she stayed surprisingly free of snarky remarks. 

“Yes, you may take my top off.”

“Good girl.” 

She leaned forwards a little, letting him slide her tank top over her head easily, then settling back against his chest. 

Draco thanked everything that he was tall enough that he could see over Granger’s shoulder and take in the wondrous view of her tits in all their glory. Cupping them in his hands again, he resumed his light, teasing touches, continuing until he felt Granger getting antsy.

“Ready for more?”

“Yes!”

He covered a chuckle at her exuberant answer, gently pinching her nipples with one hand while the other snaked down to her shorts and pants. It easily made its way under the elastic bands, feeling the short trimmed curls above her cunt. 

His middle finger parted her folds, feeling her wetness, causing him to stifle a groan in her curls. She stiffened at the new feeling but relaxed almost immediately. He still decided to check in. Better safe than sorry. 

“Doing alright, Granger? You can stop any time…”

“No. I want this. It’s just…new.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind that’s fine.”

She huffed and settled into him even further. He was a little surprised she hadn’t said anything about what was surely pressing into her perfect arse, but shrugged the thought away and continued his explorations. His ring and index finger kept her folds parted as his middle finger explored, feeling gently around as he made a mental layout of her cunt. It slid down to her hole, gently prodding before moving back up to find her clit. Still not quite ready for penetration, although he was pleasantly surprised at how wet she was. 

He felt a ridge that he was pretty sure was her clit…oh yeah there it was, based on the way her thighs and stomach suddenly clenched. “That feel good, Granger?”

“Yeah,” she sighed out. “Keep doing that.”

He experimented with different pressures and speeds as he circled her clit, finding what made her most responsive. Suddenly she stiffened, muscles clenching, throwing her head back onto his shoulder. “Oh yeah, right there, Draco!”

He kept up his movements, feeling unbearably smug at how wound up she was getting, He couldn’t wait to see her break. Just a little more…and there she went, tipping over the edge with a cry of his name, her thighs clenching around his wrist and her abs trembling under his forearm. He pulled his fingers out of her knickers after a few more seconds, loath to let her go after seeing her come like that, but not wanting to overstimulate her. 

He rubbed soothing circles on her stomach as her breathing evened out and her muscles stopped twitching. “You did such a good job, Granger, what a good girl.” He kissed her neck. “You were spectacular.”

She let out a long breath of air. “That was…”

His smugness increased as she was rendered incapable of completing her sentences. “That was great, Granger. Do you want to stop for the night?”

“Stop for the night?” she repeated. 

He nodded. “Yeah. If you’re too tired or overwhelmed, we could continue another night…if you wanted?”

She traced his hand lying on her stomach with a fingertip. “You’d show me again?”

“Yeah, why not? I wouldn’t mind making you come again, you were bloody ravishing.”

“O-oh. Well…if you’re offering…I wouldn’t mind doing this again…and maybe a little more? I am a little tired right now, though…”

“Alright. We can talk about it later then. So you’re happy with how tonight went?”

“Yeah, I am. That orgasm was…I hate to say it lest you explode from your ego expanding too much, but it was earth-shattering.”

He physically could not stop the smirk that spread across his face. “I aim to please.” He slid out of the bed after a few more minutes of cuddles, feeling her shiver as the cool air blew against her exposed skin. Picking up the discarded top, he held it over her head.. “Arms up.”

She looked at him bewildered, but raised them anyway. He tugged her sleep shirt on and gently pushed her back against the pillows, handing her the glass of water from her nightstand. “Sleep well, Granger. Don’t forget to pee.”

“Good night, Malfoy, and…thank you.”

As soon as he closed her door behind him his hand was down his sweats. He barely made it past a minute when he came all over his hand, her name on his lips behind a Silencio.

A thought popped into Draco’s head as he held her gaze. Over the winter hols, his mother had begun teaching him Legilimency. He was still getting the hang of it, but practice made perfect, did it not? His target was already making eye contact with him, and he was suddenly overwhelmingly curious about the witch’s thoughts. Was she as boring as she came across on the outside?

Ooo, maybe he could get a sneak peek into Potter’s plans, if she let him that far into her mind. Well, it was worth a try. Despite being a ridiculously well-read witch, surely she hadn’t learned about Legilimency or Occlumency?

Moving his wand under the table, so she couldn’t see, he whispered “Legilimens,” instantly transporting to his rival’s innermost being. Stubborn swot had practically invited him in, with those gleaming amber eyes holding his and absolutely no mental resistance to his entry at all. 

He smirked to himself and looked around. 

Draco turned slowly in place in Granger’s mind, jaw dropped as he took in the thoughts absolutely sprinting around, too fast for him to possibly pin down and read. 

Merlin’s beard, had the witch actually become an Occlumens?!

This was not what he expected, compared to his mother’s neatly organised thoughts and carefully constructed walls and paths that held her memories. How was he supposed to delve into her mind and find what he wanted if there was no way to find what he was looking for? 

Granger’s mind was a veritable rabbit warren of thoughts and memories, all haphazardly rolling around in her head like stray Bertie Bott’s Beans on the Hogwarts Express. 

He had to give it to her, she had excellent defences that even a more skilled Legilimens than himself would have trouble wading through. 

And the volume, Salazar’s staff…he was getting a headache just from the decibels of those thoughts running amuck. He exited her mind and broke eye contact, silently letting her win the unspoken staring contest, too overwhelmed to look at her any longer. How did the witch manage to get anything done with that organisational system, nevermind be top of their classes? Sure, it was a great defence against Legilimens, but they were few and far between, surely she didn’t need them at Hogwarts (his prying experiment aside). That mental energy would be better spent retaining and organising their class information. 

Draco felt a sliver of grudging respect at Granger’s beyond-magical handling of Occlumency and schoolwork. He shivered in his seat. He wouldn’t be going in her brain again if he could help it.

2. Monday, 15 January, 1996 (5th Year)

Draco glared at the bronze curls ahead of him, willing Granger to quiet her thoughts. Since he’d first jumped into her brain last week, he couldn’t stop listening in, even when he wasn’t trying. 

Sweet Salazar, the witch was loud. Practically screaming her thoughts at anyone listening in. 

He really couldn’t make heads or tails of her behaviour. There was absolutely no reason for her to be broadcasting her thoughts like that – only a few students would even have heard of Legilimency. Surely she wasn’t playing bait, trying to lure him and/or his godfather into admitting something?

Somehow, Granger had become more interesting to him than Potter over the last week. It was only partly due to her annoyingly distracting thoughts that kept following him around. He found himself searching out her curls like a beacon for him to watch her, instead of to locate one of the two limpets usually by her side. He was, admittedly, curious about her organisational standards after his jaunt through her head. 

The more he heard her thoughts, the more he found himself able to make sense of the rapid-fire trails they’d blaze, often diverting from one topic to another quicker than he would have done. 

Looking back once he was out of her mental broadcasting range, he was able to follow her logic steps, but by Merlin, the convoluted ways she arrived at her destination! Draco wasn’t sure if he was impressed by her ability to arrive at the same conclusion by very different throughways or not. 

Ahead of him, Granger shifted, perhaps finally sensing his displeasure and quieting her thoughts. They slowed down, gathering in one easy-to-follow stream of consciousness as she mentally narrated the notes she was writing.

Finally.

Thankful for the reprieve, Draco bent over his own parchment, able to block out one uninterrupted thought flow better than a scattered bombardment of singular thoughts. Still, the applications she pulled out of whatever mental filing system she had –however confusing it was–

were always apt and several times provided a new angle for Draco to mull over.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He relegated it to the back of his mind, where most of his thoughts about Granger went these days, never to be seen or felt again.

3. Sunday, 15 September, 1996 (6th Year)

The form of one Hermione Granger slumped over her books in the library made Draco pause on his way past her table to the shelf he wanted. 

He’d missed her mental chatter over the summer as he learned Occlumency from his aunt and improved his Legilimency. However, with his new and improved mental shields firmly up since his return to Hogwarts, he hadn’t cared to attempt to breach hers again. He had better things to do with his brain than listen to her mental ramblings. 

Honestly, he felt a bit bad for her after he’d eavesdropped on her when she was with the limpets one study session. She certainly possessed a surplus of patience dealing with those two, considering the filter her thoughts passed through before they made their way to the limpets’ ears.

Cautiously, he attempted to listen in on her thoughts as he made his way behind her, out of sight and out of mind (well, in one sense). Nothing. 

Draco frowned. His Legilimency had only improved over the summer, and he couldn’t feel any Occlumency walls or shields. Her mind was simply…not producing thoughts. It was such a deviation from the norm that he began to grow worried that something had happened to Granger. 

He sent a small stinging jinx at her leg. She jerked, slapping at her leg as thoughts began to form, to his relief (he simply tossed that feeling in the pile of galleons holding his true emotions that were stored in his very well guarded mental horde, never to be considered further).

Ouch, what was that? She glanced around, but he was safely hidden behind the shelves. Oh well. You’ve got Charms homework to crack on, Hermione. She pulled a piece of parchment forward and dipped her quill in the ink bottle, tapping the excess ink off on the side absentmindedly as she began figuring out the wording of her essay. 

Two students walked by, whispering about the Quidditch tryouts the day before. Granger snickered as an image of Cormac McLaggen flying off in the wrong direction flitted through her mind like the Snitch taunting the Seekers. 

Confundusing McLaggen was too easy. I’m glad Ron got the spot. She flipped through the Charms textbook. Focus, ‘Mione, Charms!

Draco left her mind, humming thoughtfully. So the little swot had sabotaged the tryouts for her incompetent boyfriend’s favour, huh. How positively Slytherin of her.

4. Monday, 30 March, 1998 (7th Year)

The shaking form of Hermione Granger on his drawing room floor kept Draco frozen in his spot, unable to look away. Her expression was screwed up in pain as she bit her lip, trying not to let a scream escape. Suddenly her eyes flew open, meeting his and pinning him in place. 

His wandless Legilimency was weak at best, but with eye contact…

Legilimens.

Draco slipped into her brain easily, almost staggering as the pain of the Cruciatus curse spread to him. Granger, it will be okay. Hold on. You have to hold on, Granger. Please.

Mal-Malfoy?

Some of the pain in her eyes was replaced with confusion. He barely moved a muscle to nod reassuringly at her.

Yes, it’s me, Granger. Keep fighting. You have to, for all the others. You will survive this, I swear it. Just hold on a little longer, please, Granger.

Why are you doing this? A drop of blood trickled down her lip as she bit down harder.

I can’t stop my aunt, but I can take some of your torture. It’s nothing new. Just hold on, Granger, you’re not alone here. They’re coming for you. They’ll get you out of this.

But you hate me. You’re on his side.

Not anymore; I have to. For my mother and my sake. Just like you have to for Potter and Weasley and your sakes. 

Bellatrix cast another Cruciatus, determined to make Potter’s Mudblood scream. Draco took more of the pain from Granger, determined to give her that one minuscule victory of staying quiet. 

Granger squeezed her eyes shut again at the renewed assault, temporarily cutting off their connection. Draco took a large, un-Slytherin risk and lowered a little of his Occlumency defences, reaching out to Granger’s loud mental screams. 

Hush, Granger, I’m still here. Can you feel me through the mental link?

I thought Legilimency needed eye contact? She gasped. 

I’ve improved my Legilimency over the summer. I don’t need eye contact if your mental defences are down and you’re practically screaming in my head. 

Granger’s reply was cut off as she noticed something above her, her eyes opening in another convulsion. Dobby was unscrewing the chandelier in the drawing room above the gathered crowd. 

Come with us, she said, a flicker of surprise flashing after the words. Leave the Manor and him behind.

I can’t, Granger. My mother–

A vague sense of sympathetic understanding echoed through her mind underneath the spasms of pain. 

Just say a nice word at my funeral, will you? 

Dr–

He left her mind as Potter & Co appeared in front of the group, throwing them into chaos. At least his insane aunt was forced to stop cursing Granger and cast other spells instead. 

He half-heartedly wrestled with Potter over a couple wands, hoping the Death Eaters would be too distracted to notice the way he so easily let Potter wrestle them free. 

A flash of crystal as the chandelier dropped–

A flash of silver as Bellatrix threw her knife–

A flash and crack as the Order members apparated away–

And she was free. Draco closed his eyes. The Order would win the war, he was sure of it. What that meant for him, he no longer cared. 

5. Monday, 5 October, 1998 (1st Day of 8th Year)

Draco, from his vantage point at the top of the stairs to the dorms, looked around the common room at the combined houses mingling peaceably. He had an excellent view. 

The bronze curls and slow smile of one Hermione Granger, War Heroine, were warmly shaded by the light of the fireplace she sat beside, conversing with classmates. 

She had regained some colour to her skin over the summer, he noticed, and a handful of freckles besides. Her hair was more curl and less frizz, her eyes were livelier and less shadowed, though they showed her forced maturity no matter how much they sparkled (Draco didn’t think that those would ever disappear from any who had them), her body was curvier and less malnourished than when he’d last seen her months ago at his trial. 

He felt the edges of his lips curling up in a genuine smile as he sat and observed all the positive changes in her life and body. 

He’d thought he was well-hidden in the shadows (certainly everyone was treating him as though he were truly wrapped in Potter’s invisibility cloak), but suddenly her eyes snapped to his and she held his gaze, leaving no doubt that she had caught him staring. 

She quirked her eyebrow in silent question and invitation. He didn’t need Legilimency anymore to know how to read her, most of the time. 

He’d spent all his summer house arrest fixating on any scrap of news the papers published about her, of which there were plenty. Thousands of photos of the most famous and Brightest Witch of Her Age had been clipped and carefully transferred to his scrapbook. It was a little ridiculous at this point, just how thick it was. It was hidden the Muggle way, under the floorboard under his bed, along with a thick stack of letters they had exchanged in between her busy schedule of testifying, repairing battlegrounds and casualties, and healing herself, and his busy schedule of daydreaming as he scoured the papers

He shook his head slightly, making her brow drop and turn into a hint of a frown. He frowned back at her, motioning with a jerk of his head to continue her conversation, and got to his feet.

Draco, can you hear me?

He froze on the step.

I saw that and I’m taking it as a yes. Are you alright?

Peachy, Granger. I’m going to bed. Goodnight. 

…Goodnight, Draco. Sweet dreams.

He snorted. You take the sweetness for your own dreams. Ta.

He sat up with a gasp, uncomfortably sticky with sweat, his breathing fast and ragged. The nightmares had fallen off somewhat, but he supposed the first day back at Hogwarts had triggered their reemergence with full vigour. 

He settled back on his bed, turning his pillow over and resting his hands beneath it, the weight of his head grounding him. Once he’d slowed his breathing, he lay staring up at the shadowed ceiling. He reached out to Granger unconsciously, needing reassurance that she wasn’t still trapped in his drawing room with his aunt, unable to even have his mental support as he was held back with magical restraints. The dreams always ended up in his drawing room. 

Granger was asleep, seemingly undisturbed by night terrors. 

He flinched when he saw where Granger’s dreams had ended up. Surprisingly, it wasn’t like his nightmares at all. Bellatrix wasn’t there, or his mother. Only he and Granger were there, kneeling a hairsbreadth apart, his hand on her cheek, her hand on his knee. 

Feeling like he was intruding, Draco left her dream, returning fully to staring at the ceiling. Granger was safe and peaceful and that’s all that mattered. Whatever was happening in her dreams was none of his business. 

+1. Tuesday, 2 May, 2000 (2nd Anniversary of the Second Wizarding War’s End)

“Draco.”

He placed his glass of firewhisky down, turning to face his visitor. “Hermione. How are you doing?”

“Never better,” he smirked, some grain of truth to his words. “You?”

Her pink lips turned up at that. “Good. I’m content with my present. It is a bit difficult with all the,” she waved at the fancy surroundings, “circumstances, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” The room was filled with decorations and the setup for hundreds of people to celebrate the second year of Voldemort’s defeat.

“I’m pleased to hear that. You look good. The Ministry treating their Golden Girl well at her new job?”

She rolled her eyes, playfully nudging his arm. “Not you too. And yes, I’ve finally managed to get the preferential treatment left off. It only took, what, eleven months?”

“You should keep some preferential treatment, Granger,” he said solemnly. “Remind them that none of them would be here if it weren’t for you. Don’t let them take you for granted.”

She considered him, nibbling on her lower lip for a second as she bit back something. He was about to urge her to say it anyway when they were joined by Potter and Weaslette. 

“Potter. Weaslette.”

“Malfoy. Hermione,” greeted the couple. 

“Hello, Harry, Ginny.”

“I must admit I’m a little surprised to see you here,” said Harry, pushing his glasses up as he took a swig of his drink. Draco assumed he was talking to Hermione, given the circumstances.

Hermione made an agreeing noise. “I felt I should, even if I didn’t want to. I’ll find you later, Malfoy was just about to take me to get a drink, alright?”

The couple nodded and waved them off as Hermione’s hand slipped into his, pulling him away.

He blinked at their joined hands, then the back of her head as she steered them towards the bar.

“You didn’t want to stay and talk with your friends? I could’ve left.”

“No, you were there first. Besides, I wanted to talk to you in private, and we see each other much less frequently than I see Harry and Ginny.”

“Oh? Consider my interest piqued, Granger. What on earth could you want to talk to me about? You can always owl me and arrange a meeting some other time. I’m sure you still know my address, even if we haven’t written each other in awhile.”

She ordered a cocktail and leaned against the bar, turning to face him. “Do you know any place around here where we might have an uninterrupted chat?”

He hummed, tapping his chin in thought. “I may have an idea or two.”

Hermione’s drink retrieved and his topped up, he extended his arm to her and led them across the room, through dark hallways dimly lit by candle sconces, until he opened a door, gesturing her through. 

“Welcome to the private sitting room of Lady Malfoy, where none are sure to disturb.”

“Won’t your mother–”

“My mother is busy overseeing the anniversary ball, doing her best to continue polishing our name to return it to its former shine. Besides, she is quite fond of you and will be most obliging and understanding. Unless, by ‘private chat’ you meant a quick shag, in which case I am more than happy to escort you to my private rooms,” he winked, settling in the corner of the settee mere handbreadths away from her.

She blushed and rolled her eyes. “That is not what I meant. This will be fine, thank you.”

“Alright. What is so secretive that you lured me to this dark, isolated room, Granger? Should I be in fear of my innocence being tainted?”

“It’s just us now, Malfoy, you can stop with the cavalier facade. I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to help me learn and practise Legilimency.”

Draco blinked. “You’re learning Legilimency?”

“I’ve been informed that my natural Occlumency is quite advanced already,” she smirked at him, “and I believe it would be useful to learn Legilimency. You know I can’t tell you everything about my work as an Unspeakable, but I work with Memories and Obliviators. I think Legilimency would be quite useful to know in my line of work, and…well, I can’t think of anyone I’d trust more with my mind to teach me.”

Draco swallowed. “I won’t insult you by asking if you’ve thought this through, but just for my peace of mind, Granger, you really want me in your mind again? Even after…”

She nodded firmly twice. “I asked you to help me improve my Occlumency and mental resistance, especially against you, because I thought we both needed space apart from each other. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you or want you in my mind. You know I didn’t mind that, especially after the Incident. Now that I’m content with my Occlumency, I wish to learn Legilimency. I still trust you with my mind, Draco, we just needed some boundaries.”

He nodded, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and run his fingers through his hair. “My mind healer told me our bond was becoming codependent and unhealthy. I’ve finally seen your points,” he sighed. “ I- you’re ready to do this again?”

“My mind healer cleared me a while ago, but I waited to be sure both of us were. But if you’re still not…maybe today wasn’t the best day to bring this up, after all. I’m sorry, I’ll leav-”

His fingers were wrapped gently around her wrist before he even knew what he was doing. “No, stay, Granger. I’m ready. I just wanted to clear some of my past reservations up first.”

Her answering smile was brilliant. “Good! When would you be free to start, then?”

“Now?”

Hermione smiled at the sight of Draco’s blonde head sticking above the back of her sofa. One arm was resting along the back, his long fingers tracing aimless designs in the blue floral pattern.

She paused, struck by an impulsive thought. Pulling out her wand, she whispered, “Legilimens,” under her breath, transporting to his mind. She fell in instantly, surprising her considering the challenge he had set her to get into his mind when he wasn’t expecting her. Surely it wasn’t this easy…but it didn’t feel like he was Occluding…

She wandered through his mind, as always astounded by his neat organising, so unlike her own mental filing system. Hers worked perfectly well for her, but she had long felt Other for her strange ways of remembering obscure topics and collecting scraps of random information. She had finally come to accept her strangeness and embrace it, even, but she still had a little pang of jealousy at seeing his easy organisation.

 She strolled through the cave that was his mental fortress, surprised to not be greeted by his defending dragon. What was he planning?

She continued on her way, pausing to observe his vaults of memory-gems and emotion-coins, locked up behind steel and iron. The locks on some had become simpler, less guarded, from when they’d parted ways at the end of Eighth Year, and she wondered if she was seeing proof of his mind healer’s influence.

The vault she’d always been most curious about, at the back, was cracked open.. Taking it as an invitation, she peered in. It looked like a Gringotts vault, full of artworks and artefacts and piles of wealth heaped in the corners. Looking closer, each object held something related to her. Memories, feelings, dreams… 

Feeling like an intruder, although she assumed he’d let her in for a reason, she stepped in cautiously. A memory met her full-force.

October, Sixth Year

Draco glanced across the table to hers, where she twirled a curl around her finger, deep in thought over a thick tome. 

“Legilimens.”

He’d been getting the hang of wandless legilimency when he returned to Hogwarts, fresh from his aunt’s teaching. He’d practised on enough minds over the summer to know that hers was different, moreso than anyone else’s, and it intrigued him. 

At first, yes, it had annoyed him, all her loud, fast thoughts, but now he found it comforting to listen in. He enjoyed trying to figure out which Express her thoughts were going to take before she did, to try and follow her leaps of intellect and even beat her to her conclusions. 

And then there were her memories…the happy bustle of the Burrow (even if he was a little blinded by the sheer amount of gingers in one place), the summers out exploring with her Muggle parents, the interesting lives the Muggles lived and their strange inventions, the happy times she had with the limpets, she had so many happy memories. 

They all seemed tinged with a warm sepia glow, preserved by some force Draco wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It was a far cry from his own, cold grey and black shrouded in smokey vignette. Her memories simultaneously made him wish to turn them to ash and keep them in a Fiendfyre-proof vault. He left her head with a scoff and got up, leaving the library.

Hermione blinked, overcome with his emotions and the memory. He’d confessed in their letters before Eighth Year that he’d often slipped into her head, but she hadn’t fully understood it until now. Another memory flitted forward as the previous one slid back into Draco’s neat storage. 

March, Seventh Year

Draco was horrified to see her dragged into his drawing room by the Snatchers. His gaze flicked from her, to his aunt, to the Snatchers. He’d long since learned to temper his flight or fight response with freeze.

He’d stayed frozen until Bellatrix had cast the first Crucio and she’d met his eyes. 

It was strange seeing her memories through Draco’s eyes, especially once he’d jumped into her head and was seeing her thoughts. 

Granger, it will be okay.

She often recalled the first words he’d said to her when he entered her mind. And then she felt the phantom echoes of pain, and realised that Draco had absorbed some of the Cruciatus for her. 

Jerking out of the memory with a gasp, she panted for breath, hand on her heart, reminding herself that it was only a memory.

“Draco!”

He strolled out of the shadows of the vault, hands in his pockets, eyebrow raised in silent question. 

“Hermione.”

“You absorbed the Cruciatus for me?” Blast it, she could feel the sting of tears fast approaching. Now was not the time to cry. She blinked hard.

He shrugged.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? I’m sure that would have gone even farther to prove your case for acquittal at your trial!”

“Does it matter, Granger?” He sounded annoyed. “That’s not usually how this goes.”

She paused, confused. “How does it usually go, then?”

He rolled his eyes. “I have a nightmare about the Incident, you remind me it’s not real, we kiss, et cetera,” he waved his hand summarily. “Don’t know why I expected Dream-Hermione to be any less argumentative than Real-Hermione,” he muttered under his breath.

Hermione tilted her head, contemplating. So Draco dreamed about her. She’d thought nightmares about the Incident had decreased. But apparently he also dreamed about current-her comforting him. Interesting. She hadn’t been sure if he’d still be as fond of her as he’d been in Eighth Year, after they’d had some healing and time apart from their traumatic bonding experiences. Well, it was good to know her slightly-more-than-a-crush was reciprocated. 

“I’m going to ignore that, just this once. Draco, are you dreaming?”

He looked at her in puzzlement. “Obviously. I really don’t know why you had to change the dream from snogging me senseless to rehashing the Incident, though,” he frowned.

She raised her eyebrow. “Snogging you senseless, huh? That explains your absolute lack of Occlumency,” she snickered. “You were practically inviting me in. Guess your subconscious was tired of your lack of making a move and made it for you. Would you care to wake up so I can actually snog you senseless, then?”

Draco blinked, then his jaw dropped and a blush rose on his cheeks and eartips. 

She turned to leave, then remembered why she’d come in the first place. “Oh, by the way, since I was able to get into your head successfully, I’ll be claiming my prize of one wish from the loser. I’m sure you’ll quite like it, don’t worry!” With a wink, she left, leaving him gaping after her.

Hermione settled on the sofa beside him, smirking softly at his adorably flustered expression as he woke up and saw her.

“Er, Hermione–”

“Sh, Draco. You like me and I like you, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

“Well, I suppose–”

“Good, then. Based on the sheer volume of that vault about me, I assume we have many many snogs to make up for.”