Out of Time

Chapter 35

Even when she and Draco couldn't be together in public, she still enjoyed spending time with his friends. She thinks they felt the same, once things had settled in.

She won't let Ron spoil it.

"I wonder if they're looking for you, now. Where'd their little girlfriend go? Is Nott a Death Eater, too? By now, I bet he is. Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll find us first. They'll kill me and Harry and just keep you for themselves. But I bet you wouldn't even mind, having both of them."

There are so many things wrong here that Hermione (in possession of the Horcrux, no less) chooses to walk away rather than address any of them. He won't listen to reason anyway. There's no point. She'll stew in silence.

* * *

Hermione tries to open her eyes but the blindfold keeps her in the dark. It's silky, wrapped snug around her face and tied to the side so her head isn't resting on the knot. So considerate.

She raises up a tad to assist the strong fingers sliding her knickers off her hips. Those calluses wrought from skillful spellwork bring to mind nimble movements like the confident twirling of his wand. She always likes to watch his fingers from afar, those fingers and their lithe manipulation of Hermione's body to wherever he wants it.

She can't see him but she feels him. The light bristles of his chin brush against her inner thigh and he presses a kiss there. Her knees fall open for him and he chuckles under his breath. She shivers as the air hits her and he does it again deliberately, ghosting a breeze across her overheated flesh. A groan leaves her mouth from somewhere deep in her chest and she feels herself get wetter. The sharp contrast of this to the cool air whistling from between his lips makes her want to squirm closer to his mouth. Her heels tuck up under her bum.

"Please?" she whimpers and at once his fingers spread her open. He doesn't do anything else yet and she knows he's just staring at her, holding her there. That she can't see him do this is tantalising. She had no idea it would feel like this to lose one of her senses. Her clit throbs in its own sort of protest and he breathes on it with the slowest exhale.

It's unavoidable. Her hands come to her own breasts and she rolls them into the centre of her chest. The weight of them, heavy in her palms, shifts towards her fingertips. She circles and tugs her nipples, her back arching on the bed. If he doesn't do something soon, she's going to scream.

Maybe that's what he wants.

Still holding her folds apart, he lets one finger explore up and down. He gets near her entrance but doesn't go inside. Hermione whimpers again, impatient and eager. The coil gathering in her core is tightening, tightening.

Usually he's praising her by now. She's his good girl, after all. But he seems to want to deprive her of both sight and sound, and a good girl would play along. She can be good.

He dips a long finger straight inside her in a confident way - but not rushing it. He swirls her wetness around and brings it back out with him, beginning to rub it around her clit. His hand position changes next. His thumb comes to rest directly on that sensitive bundle and he slides two fingers inside her. Those start a gentle rhythm but his thumb does not. He lets the pressure build.

Hermione starts to rock her hips down, more than willing to chase her own friction. She wants more than this. She needs it.

"Please?" she whispers again, failing to hide the desperation in the word.

In response, he replaces his thumb with his mouth. Those delightful bristles tickle perfectly, raising her sensitivity. She's so wet they couldn't possibly scratch and in the lack of sight or sound, all she can do is feel.