𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 // 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺

Chapter Three

After that very confusing lunch Hermione spent the rest of her day sitting at her desk, dazedly examining spreadsheets, but not really processing any information.

Percy had knocked on her door  towards the end of the day to invite her out for a drink to talk about it, but she had waved him off. She still needed more time to think through whatever that lunch had been.

She was still distracted and half tipsy as she packed up her bag and made her way to the employee floo fireplaces.

When she got home she toed off her shoes and dropped her bag on the kitchen counter. 

Her brain just kept going in circles. Why had Draco kissed her hand like that? Why had they been so shocked when she talked about her love life? Why had Harry been acting as Draco’s hype man for much of the conversation?

She knew that if a friend had told her about this experience, she would tell them that those men were interested in her. But she dismissed that option out of hand. She didn’t want to make that sort of assumption about her childhood friend or her childhood enemy. If she acted assuming that premise was true, and was wrong, she wouldn’t handle it well. She didn’t think she’d be able to stand the shame and embarrassment of making herself vulnerable like that and then being rejected. 

It had been hard enough to bounce back to acting normal around them after the time she had spent staying with them. She still had vivid memories of the displays of affection they had shown each other in front of her. 

She remembered one occasion in particular. She had come back from work early, eager to spend time around them. Malfoy and Harry had met her at the door with a glass of wine and take-out. 

She had been staying with them for a few weeks at that point and was comfortable there. They had fallen into a routine and being welcomed back every evening by them felt like coming home, the type of home she hadn’t felt since she was a small child, before she knew the horrors of war. They had hugged her and touched her in a casual familiar way that she had never imagined she would be comfortable with, but she was. She had begun to think that maybe , even though it was unconventional in the Muggle world, that maybe they both wanted something more with her. She knew of other triads. Bill and Fleur had taken a third, Lee Jordan, after the war, and they had all attended the wedding of Neville, Luna, and Susan Bones.

That evening they had drank and laughed and talked. She had leaned into Harry, putting her head on his shoulder and laughing at a joke he made when suddenly the world shifted.

One moment they were sharing stories about the embarrassing things Ron had done at the last Ministry event, and then Draco—Malfoy had been in the other man’s lap, legs splayed wide, bracketing the brunet’s hips. Draco’s sudden movement had forced Hermione to lean away from the couple, but she watched as one of his hands laced through Harry’s already messy hair, pulling just enough so that Harry was forced to lean his head back, exposing his neck.  Malfoy’s other hand had started methodically undoing the buttons of Harry’s shirt. They had been pressed together making noises that were deliciously obscene, leaving Hermione hyper aware of her pulse thudding in both her nipples and her core. Their kiss had been electric, and Draco ground down into Harry’s lap with a low moan. At the noise Hermione had let a sharp gasp pass her lips, one that she had unsuccessfully tried to stifle with her hand.

That was when Harry’s eyes had shot open, but he hadn’t looked at her, instead he was focused on Malfoy. Harry looked debauched, his lips slick and bitten, his hips making small circles against Malfoy, obviously hungry for more.  Harry was completely focused on Malfoy, like he was the only person in the world at that moment.

But Malfoy had turned to look at her. His pupils were blown and his lips were red and kiss-bruised. Malfoy’s gaze was hungry and possessive, his hand splayed territorially over Harry’s chest.