In February of Fourth Year, Viktor Krum invited Hermione to go ice-skating with a few of the other Durmstrang students and their girls. She had already been to the Yule Ball with Viktor but there was something about this casual "date" that made her even more nervous than dressing to the nines and appearing in the Great Hall. The idea of him selecting her for an intimate afternoon with a few of his friends was intimidating and she'd shook the whole time she was in the bath, scrubbing her skin with sugarplum scented soap, pulling a comb through her damp hair. Ginny had helped her to dress and plaited her hair into to two pretty pigtails that hung down her back.
"Girls can't help but be beautiful in the winter," she'd said to Hermione, giggling. "The cold makes our eyes sparkly and our cheeks all pinked up. He's going to love you. Hermione's gonna get snooooggged," she sang, each word drawn out louder and longer the more embarrassed Hermione looked.
Still, the energy she felt that day...the anticipatory fear and excitement, a combination of hesitance and want, was one of the most delicious feelings she'd ever had.
And she did get snogged.
Preparing to go visit Draco a few hours after lineup filled her with the same bubbling electricity, the same heat in her cheeks as she wondered what would be waiting for her behind the black lacquer doors of his suite. Leanna stopped by and lingered in the doorway of her room, smiling as Hermione wove her hair into a French braid.
"Do you mind if I say something that might...get your blood up?" Leanna asked, smiling wide.
"What's that?" Hermione asked, looking over her shoulder.
"I just wanted to say that you are...so...fucking...lucky," Leanna said on a laugh. "God, Draco is the best kisser in the world. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes," Hermione answered, doing her best to keep her eyes bright and her smile friendly.
Inside her throat was tightening as she thought of Leanna in his room, stripping for him, serving him. Draco had accused her of jealousy back before the gala and she'd been too proud to see the truth. And it wasn't just the physical touches, it wasn't even the fucking, the kissing. What she was jealous of was the possibility of some other woman taking care of him, some other woman making sure he got to bed, falling asleep with his head in her lap as she stroked his hair or ran a thumb over his eyebrow, some other woman listening to him cry, telling stories of his childhood. She was jealous of the idea of him breaking, cracking, revealing himself to someone else, some other woman, a woman who hadn't earned what Hermione had.
"We didn't do anything, Sparrow. It was just a kiss. I mean, a kiss that blew my mind...it was definitely—"
"Ok thank you,"
Leanna sighed, finishing up her hair with one last pin.
"There's no one in the world for him but you, Hermione. We all know that now," she said. "And honestly, I'm glad things are back to normal."
"Not quite yet," Hermione said, frowning at her reflection in the full-length mirror. "But they're getting there."
Draco had been sitting on the sofa for nearly two hours, careful to only have one glass of firewhiskey as he stared into the fire, waiting for his Sparrow to arrive. The ice rattled in the glass when he lifted it to his lips, his hand shaking. She'd agreed to visit him but he was sure she would cancel, change her mind, or she would show up and he would frighten her, hurt her again. It had only been a month since Trevor's attack and he felt foolish to even ask anything of her. A kiss, a touch, any intimacy at all was no doubt an enormous hurdle for her to leap and he had no right to ask her to do it. Yet she'd been the one to come to him. She'd said she wanted him.
Of course he knew that it couldn't be the way it had been before, and deep down it was his greatest regret, one he could never voice. The dark, visceral passion they'd shared before he'd hurt her was the most blissful high he'd felt in years and the deepest connection he'd ever felt to someone else, like sharing the details of a dream and finding that she'd had the same one, a secret and a fantasy that was theirs alone. It was pure pleasure that quickly became something...more, something stronger that he wouldn't dare acknowledge. He couldn't. If she thought being strangled by Draco had hurt, imagine the damage being loved by him would do.
She knocked on the door a few minutes after eleven, once the club was dark for the night, one or two girls entertaining their regulars, the bar and gaming rooms closed.
"Come in," he said, embarrassed at how his voice cracked with the tension of anticipation, like a boy waiting on his first date.
He was beautiful, reclining on in his white linen pants, his chest bare and golden in the firelight, hair damp from a shower. A thin line of white smoke trailed up from his cigarette and he glanced at her over his shoulder, his mouth breaking into a wide smile. Hermione's stomach swooped as if she were a girl again, her skin tingly, cheeks flushing pink. She'd waited a long time to be alone with him again. A part of her knew it was wrong to want him, to want sex at all after what she'd been through. There was some short circuit in her brain that made her want these things. She shouldn't want to be near men at all, to feel the weight of their body on top of her, their tongue on her skin, smelling the mingling sweat and slick from a passionate fuck. And yet once she'd healed from Trevor's attack it was all she craved. Perhaps it was like Draco had said to her the first time they were together. The war had ruined them. They were shattered to pieces and knit back together full of cracks and chips and imperfections. And so now she only wanted to remember what it was like to be wet and aroused, aching, begging for pleasure, giving it willingly, frantically. When Draco came to her she felt beautiful and wanted, alive, vital. When Draco dominated her she felt strong, her blood heated, her heart pumping like a primitive animal acting on her basest instincts. All she wanted was to replace the pain she felt at Trevor's touch with the euphoria she felt at Draco's. Whether it was wrong or not, she didn't care. Not anymore.
"Come sit," He said, his legs stretched out in front of him, arms long across the back of the couch.
"Where?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
Her instinct was to kneel at his feet, to serve him how she used to, parting his thighs and closing her mouth around his length as he dug his fingers into her hair. Instead, Draco patted his lap and held a hand out. She sat, wrapping her hands around his neck and dipped down for kiss, nearly sighing into his mouth as she pulled in the taste of the spicy firewhiskey and tobacco, a flavor that was decidedly Draco, and one that she'd missed. He crushed out his cigarette as they kissed and he pulled her down to his chest, satin sliding up over her hips as he rubbed her back. Her hips rolled over him like a wave, her fingers carding through his silken hair, moaning at each stroke of his tongue over hers. He was already hard beneath her and she rocked against his pelvis, straddling his thighs. Before he could ask she pulled the nightgown over her head and Draco eagerly bent to take a nipple between his teeth. His bite was gentle and instead of twisting and tugging at the pink peak he suckled until it stiffened between his lips. After a moment he pulled back, kissing between her breasts, the smooth skin below her ribs then just above her navel. Hermione arched backward, offering herself fully and he ran one hand down the length of her torso, his thumb brushing lightly, once, between her legs.
"Did you shave for me little Sparrow?" He asked, smiling. "So seautiful. I'm honored."
His voice was low and buttery, a seductive purr rippling over her flesh and she nodded before pulling away to stand before him for inspection.
"What would you like?" She asked, running her fingers down the trail of golden hair that ran below his navel before reaching for the waistband of his trousers. "What can I do for you?"
He held her by the wrists and pushed her back, standing to face her, admiring the perfect lines and slopes of her naked body, the glow of her skin in the firelight, the strength displayed in her scars and healing wounds, the imperfections only adding to her beauty. She could not be defeated.
"Nothing, love," he said, taking her face in his hands. "I want you to feel good. I'm here for you."
He kissed her, flicking his tongue over the seam of her closed lips and she opened instantly, moaning and whimpering with need. His lips moved to her jaw, the soft, sensitive spot beneath her ear, the hollow of her throat. As he sunk to his knees in front of her she ran her fingers through his hair, watching as he kissed his way downward, his open mouth leaving a wet trail on her skin. He carefully spread her legs before stroking two fingers along either side of her clit and her breath caught in her throat as he slowly worked her open, warming her, spreading her slick juices over her folds, dipping inside and pulling out again, circling the tight bundle of nerves before starting it all over again. It was gentle and precise, his movements performed with a kind of reverence that she'd never felt from him before, and yet she found herself aching for something more, a deeper touch, something with more fire behind it. Hermione rocked against his hand in an effort to find relief but he only moved with a lighter touch then, nearly a tease, one hand on her hip to hold her steady.
When he pressed his lips to the tender flesh above her bare mound, she groaned, bucking against his mouth, remembering when she came to him once and he sucked a dark bruise into her skin there, marking her as his. His bruises and bites were her jewelry, gifts from him that she treasured, and yet now he only let his tongue trace light circles, his lips leaving fluttering kisses.
"Please, Mr. Malfoy...I want more...please lick me, my cunt is dripping for you."
She stepped her legs apart for him and he did as she asked, his warm tongue stroking through her lips expertly as he held her open with two fingers.
"Tell me..." she breathed, holding him tight to her sex, grinding against his mouth. "Tell me what you want from me."
Still tonguing her clit, Draco's hands ran up over her hips, palming her breasts, his touch almost feather light, a shadow, like a memory of what he could actually do, what he'd done. He hummed and sucked and pulled back to kiss the tops of her thighs.
"I want you to come," he said, dipping his tongue into her navel, kissing her stomach. "I want to make you come. I want to see it. That's all I want."
Something in Hermione felt hollow, as if there were a piece missing that she couldn't quite place but was quickly forgotten when his mouth returned to its work. When her legs started to tremble she backed away, sliding to the floor to kiss him, tasting herself on his tongue. As he moaned into her mouth she reached down to palm his length through the fabric of his trousers, teasing him with long slow strokes. He reached down to stop her and she smiled, expecting to hear him admonish her impatience, to call her a hungry little cock slut, to give her some kind of instruction. Instead, he pushed her hand away and kissed her mouth again, softly, almost...chaste in its tenderness and again she felt a strange awkwardness creeping between them.
"You don't have to do this," he said. "It's enough for me to see you. It's enough for me to give you pleasure."
They were only inches apart, a breath, a word, and yet it felt like an ocean.
This wasn't the Draco she missed. This wasn't the Draco she craved. In the weeks after Archlight's attack she'd been pampered and whispered to, everyone on eggshells as they walked past her room. Moonstone had all but swaddled her and put her in a cradle while trying to help her recover. It had been days and days of nothing but soft touches and platitudes, kind words and fake smiles deliveries of chocolate and flowers and offers of help; and all she'd wanted was her Mr. Malfoy back. She wanted his punishing kisses, his decadent, filthy words. She'd wanted his fist in her hair, sweat dripping from his brow as he pounded into her from behind. She wanted to be wanted that passionately. She wanted Draco to believe she could take it. She wasn't made of glass.
"It's not enough for me," she said, reaching down again to pull him free from his trousers, her thumb brushing over the drop of pearly liquid at the head of his cock. "I want to make you come."
She stroked a bit harder and his eyelids fluttered as he fell back against the sofa, his knees spread wide.
"I want you to fuck me," she said, running her own fingers through her wetness as she tugged and stroked him to his full length, the hard, thick cock she'd wanted for weeks. "I want to feel you inside me, filling me."
Draco groaned as she lifted herself and settled onto his prick, sliding slowly down, nearly purring with pleasure as every inch filled her, stretching, slipping over her clit, stroking the spot inside that made her eyes roll back.
"So good..." he sighed, wrapping his arms around her, his fingers tickling over her back. "You feel so good. Go on...take what you need," he said, barely moving, letting Hermione rock and writhe over his hips, a desperate whimper escaping on her breath.
"Help me come," She said. "Tell me what you want to do to me. Tell me what you've missed."
His heart stuttered, his breath catching in his lungs. He couldn't tell her what he'd missed, what he wanted. Not really. To admit that he wanted to tie her down, that he wanted to blindfold her and turn her over his knee, that he wanted to wrap his hands around her neck again...it would ruin it, crumbling the delicate bridge they'd finally built to each other. Still, the feeling of her hot cunt squeezing around his dick was like a drug. Being inside her he felt renewed, forgiven, whole. Those were the things he'd missed. Those were the things he could say.
Finally he reached up to palm her breasts, twisting her nipples beneath his long fingers as he thrust up inside her, tugging just hard enough to give her a little rush of pain, a burst of adrenaline she'd been waiting for.
"I want to see you come apart," he said, reaching down to circle her clit, the hair on the back of his neck prickling at her moan. "I want you limp and soft, your hair damp with sweat, wrung out and spent from riding my cock."
He sunk his hands into her hair and gently pulled her head back to expose her throat, where he licked and sucked at the pulse point in her neck.
"Oh God, oh fuck I've been desperate for this," she said, bending down to kiss him again, as he stroked and fucked her closer to the edge.
They rocked together, limbs intertwined, her heart beating against his chest and she felt his fingers dig into her hips, his thrusting stuttered and slowed before he hissed his release through clenched teeth.
"Shit, oh God I can't hold on... Hermione..I..."
She clung tight to him as he rode out the waves of his climax, still running his thumb over her clit, trying to bring her closer. But after a moment she stopped him, pushing his hand away and sucking his wet thumb in over her tongue as she slumped against his chest.
"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," she whispered, kissing his mouth and pulling herself from his lap.
"Hermione, you didn't..."
"It doesn't matter. It felt good," she said, curling up beside him, her legs stretched over his lap, head on his chest. "It felt good just to have you back."
He sighed and rested his chin on her head, the two of them staring into the fire. She'd said was fine but he could see the shadow in her eyes, the disappointment. He'd failed her somehow, frightened her. It wasn't how it used to be and now he was afraid they were changed forever. Still, he was happy to have her in his arms, even without saying a word, and he closed his eyes to drink it in. He could make this be enough.
She sighed. It was good to have him back, to have a part of whatever they'd had before. She let herself melt into his embrace as he drew swirls and circles over her back, but he couldn't see that she was frowning. He couldn't see that even in her drowsiness, in the comfort of Draco's arms, she was angry. Something had changed inside her, something wasn't working anymore, not like it used to. Trevor Archlight had broken her and now she wasn't sure it could ever be fixed.