Archive of Our Own ^beta

Hermione was beyond irritated.

Her boss, Gawain Robards, had insisted all employees of the Auror Department attend the Annual DMLE Gala, to celebrate their accomplishments. In particular, he wanted his two employees of the year to share a dance.

They’d both glowered at each other before Draco finally extended a hand to Hermione. She hesitated, sniffing, but accepted it, and he led her out for a Ministry-mandated spin around the dance floor.

They smiled for the benefit of their boss, to mask the angry words coming out of their mouths.

“Where’s Krum tonight?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask him?”

“Why should I ask him when I’m currently holding his lover in my arms?”

“You’re being utterly ridiculous, you know that, don’t you? A right prat.”

“How would you feel if you had caught me holding Astoria like that?”

Hermione stiffened. That was a sore subject, and he knew he’d hit his mark.

“What, you think I’m sleeping with Krum?” She threw her head back and laughed. It all looked very congenial; Robards would approve.

“Why wouldn’t you be? He obviously wants you. Has since our Fourth year, even though he was so much older than you.” He made a face of disgust.

“He’s not any older than me than you are Astoria,” she sniffed disdainfully, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach at the mere thought of Draco holding Astoria in his arms. “Anyway, it sounds to me like you’re the one with feelings for him, making assumptions like that. You’re obsessed with him.”

“Assumptions? He had his arm around you and was whispering in your ear. You were leaning into him like he fucking owned you.”

Hermione did her best not to roll her eyes but in truth, she was relieved. She was finally piecing together what had happened, and why Malfoy had been having his little tantrum for two weeks, refusing to speak to her except for work-related topics, and even then, generally acting like a little bitch.

Krum had come to town and she’d gone to dinner with him, as friends, though she supposed Draco was right that she would not have handled it well if there had been a photo of Draco with Astoria, along with a sensational headline in the Prophet.

Although, to be fair to herself, there was much more baggage there than there should be with Krum. For one thing, Draco had been in a serious relationship with Astoria directly before her. It wasn’t a fair comparison at all.

“Draco…” she sighed, drawing it out a little just to punish him for the fact that he hadn’t talked to her in two weeks, and wouldn’t tell her why.

“What?” he snapped.

“Viktor is married, you know. He has a lovely wife.” Hermione tried but couldn’t keep the corner of her mouth from quirking up. “In fact, they’re expecting twins.”

Draco made a face of disgust. “Who even are you? Never in a million years would I think you’d sleep around with a married man. And about to be a father?”

“Oh stop,” she admonished. He was being so daft. “I’m not sleeping with him. I’m not sleeping with anyone.”

He raised a brow. “Not anyone?”

She lifted both brows in challenge. “Not anyone. Not anymore. Not since you, two weeks ago, the day before you stopped speaking to me. And as you well know, you’re the only one I’ve slept with in the past year.”

His eyes darkened as she continued. “Meanwhile, I’m willing to bet you’ve slept with an entire Quidditch team’s worth of witches in the last two weeks trying to get back at me for something that never even happened,” she glared at him. “Or ran back to Astoria.”

***

Draco’s mind spun. So the photos of her embracing Krum had been merely friendly. He knew he should have asked her about it before dropping her like a hot rock, but his ego had a slight tendency to take over at times. It was a Malfoy trait, after all. Better to save face and lick his wounds alone than let himself be vulnerable.

Astoria was the last witch he had dated before he and Granger had started whatever this was between them. What his infuriating coworker didn’t know was that it had only been for publicity’s sake and to appease his mother at the time.

The younger Greengrass had been even less interested in him than he was in her, and, in fact, she had been the first one to call him out for his obvious feelings for Granger when he couldn’t seem to stop talking about how much he “hated” his colleague in the Auror office.

But he rather enjoyed Granger’s displays of jealousy, so he had never revealed that aspect to her. In fact, he found pleasure—much pleasure—in being claimed by Hermione Granger in the bedroom, particularly since she would never do so publicly.

Being who they were, it wasn’t all that shocking when a member of the press snapped a photo of him and Granger snogging in an alley behind the Three Broomsticks on the evening of Harry Potter’s 23rd birthday.

They’d both been a little drunk and had let their guards down.

What was more shocking was the public outcry, even five years after the war, and how the press had immediately gone to great lengths to remind Hermione of her blood status, and the likelihood that his parents would never approve of her.

None of it mattered to Draco, and it wasn’t remotely true, but it was one of the reasons she insisted on keeping them a secret.

After the photo had been publicized, Granger had given an interview stating that it was a misunderstanding, a one-off, just two hard-working colleagues blowing off steam.

She valued her privacy, especially after the war and all the dealings with Potter and Weasley. However, keeping their…association, hidden led to many opportunities for jealousy on both sides, with the incident involving Krum only being the latest one.

For the past two weeks straight, Draco had been sick to his stomach, imagining Granger in bed with that great oaf Krum. He tried to picture what the rest of his life would look like without her.

Meanwhile, she imagined he had been out fucking every witch in sight to get her out of his system. For being the brightest witch of her age, she could be awfully fucking stupid.

As if he was one to talk about smarts. He shook his head and laughed, scrubbing his hand down his face. “No. No. I was really upset, Granger. Maybe I wished I could’ve done something like that. But it turns out you’ve fucking ruined me. I don’t want anyone else.” He laughed again. He was pretty fucking stupid too.

Granger stared him down. “Not even Astoria?”

He shook his head again. “I never did. And she never wanted me either. Let’s just say you’re more her type than I am. And she knew how I felt about you long before I even admitted it to myself.”

“But your parents—”

“My mother threatened to owl you herself if I didn’t stop moping around.”

The song ended just in time for her to cast a Notice-Me-Not glamour on both of them and she grabbed his hand, yanking him out of the ballroom, down the corridor, and into the nearest broom closet.

“You’re such an idiot,” she said, just before her lips descended on his. He wanted to protest, but he was too lost in the kiss, groaning into her mouth out of sheer fucking relief. She was absolutely right. He was a godsdamned idiot.

Well, he was going to make up for it now if he had to spend the rest of his life doing it.

Granger spun around, lifting her hair off her shoulders in an unspoken invitation for him to unzip her gown. He eagerly complied, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her shoulder and neck as he did so. She stepped out of her satin, navy blue gown and turned around, her hands going straight to his belt, her lips fusing back to his. She tasted like champagne and raspberries and sunshine.

He tugged her bra down and his hands found her naked breasts, cupping them in his hands, a perfect fit as always. He ran his thumbs across her hardened nipples as she sucked on his tongue.

She managed to free his cock from his trousers and hummed into his mouth feeling how hard he was, precum oozing out of his slit and down his shaft. His hips fucked into her hand as his own hands slid down her back, squeezing her arse and pulling her hips into his, trapping his cock between the two of them.

“Fuck, Granger. I tried so hard to stop thinking of you, but all I think about is kissing you, touching you…fucking you.”

“Then fuck me,” she breathed.

His hands slid up her waist, returning to her tits, holding them together as he leaned down to kiss and suck them. She wiggled out of her knickers and reached up to twine her arms around his neck, inviting him to lift her up. Once Draco had her where he wanted her, her back pressed against the wall, his length nestled against the wetness of her cunt, he just stopped and stared at her.

Just twenty minutes earlier, he had thought he would never get to touch her again, and here he was, about to fuck her in a broom closet in the Ministry. She huffed impatiently, managing to lower herself down enough so the tip of his cock could begin to nudge inside her.

“Dracoooo,” she whined. “Just do it already.” It had been two fucking weeks and they were both ravenous.

With one quick, firm thrust, he was fully inside her, and they both moaned, her legs squeezing around his hips while his hands gripped her bum.

“Fuck,” she gasped, her head falling back against the wall. “I hate how much I crave you.”

Draco grit his teeth, trying not to come before they even got started. He had two weeks of a dry spell to make up for. “I hate how fucking good you feel.”

His next words are out before he can even think of stopping them. “I hate how much I love you.”

Her eyes widened. “What?” she whispered. “You…love me?”

He had her speared on his cock, up against the wall, using his hips to hold her there while he cradled her face in his hands. Maybe a weird time for a love confession, but that was how things went with them.

“Why else would I give this up for two weeks?” His cock throbbed within her. “If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have gotten so jealous. I would’ve probably just kept on fucking you,” he laughed miserably. “I think you may be an addiction at this point.”

“What makes you say that?” she asked breathily, squeezing around him trying to entice him to resume his thrusting.

“Because being without you feels worse than anything I’ve ever experienced.” He put his hand over his heart and made a face like he was in pain.

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“It fucking hurts. All the time. How do people survive this? Walking around with this feeling?” He grimaced as if suffering from heartburn.

Hermione laughed softly, her eyes suspiciously dewy, and she shifted her hips against his. “It’s not all bad, is it?”

“There are… certain perks,” he said, as his cock twitched and her cunt clenched in response. “But when I’m not with you, I feel like I’m going to die. I’m constantly afraid that you’re going to die. I always feel like you’re in danger, and I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you. It drives me crazy, Granger, I—” he broke off, looking away from her for a moment, but she placed her hand on his jaw and made him look at her.

“Draco…that’s trauma. It’s leftover war stuff. We spent most of our childhoods facing a real fear of death or of losing loved ones,” she said. “But also… that’s just what it’s like to love someone. Especially for you—no offense, but you’re kind of an intense person.”

When he scoffed, she continued, “And Draco? When you stop talking to me for two weeks, you’re basically fulfilling your own prophecy.”

“What prophecy?” Not another fucking prophecy. 

“Of losing me,” she explained, her brown eyes huge and sad. “You shut me out. You wouldn’t talk to me, and I didn’t know why.”

He released a shaky breath. She was right— as much as it plagued him to admit it, she almost always was.

“I’m sorry, Granger, I—”

“Don’t do it again.”

He drew her lips to his. “I won’t,” he murmured against them. “I promise I won’t.”

“Now shut up and fuck me already. You’re not the only one suffering here.”

He slid his tongue into her mouth and kissed her fiercely, then pulled back to rest his forehead against hers, wanting to watch her eyes as he fucked her.

Squeezing her hips, he began thrusting, long, slow strokes of his cock inside her. Her pupils were huge and she let out needy, little gasps with each roll of his hips. He wanted to devour her.

“Fuck, Granger, you always feel so fucking good.”

Then, he began moving faster, bouncing her on and off his cock the way she liked. He heard her pant and keen, and he pulled her down on him hard as he felt her begin to tighten, squeezing him more and more, at the same time his balls began to draw up, ready to release two weeks’ worth of cum deep inside the woman he loved. Who hadn’t yet said…

He stopped suddenly.

“What the fuck, Malfoy?” Granger whined, “Why did you stop?”

Her face, neck, and chest were flushed, with a sheen of sweat glistening on her skin. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, pupils dilated. Her lips were fixed in a pout. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She was brilliant and bossy and a little scary sometimes. She had the capability to hurt him more than anyone or anything. And he had no idea if she felt the same way.

“I told you I love you,” he said, “and you didn’t say it back. That’s alright, if you don’t. I just need to know—“

Granger growled. Actually growled. She attempted to shift her hips, seeking friction, but he pinned her against him, feeling her cunt twitch and flutter on his cock.

“You are such a fucking idiot,” she muttered.

He smiled; he couldn’t even help it.

It didn’t matter if she felt the same way or not, he was the only one who got to see her this adorable and debauched and pissy and lovely. Even if she just wanted to fuck him, he’d take it, he’d take anything she offered.

“I fucking love you too. Okay? You…you daft wizard.”

Now he was fairly grinning.

“God,” she whined. “You are the worst. That fucking smirk. Are you going to make me beg for your cock next?”

“Something to keep in mind for next time,” he gritted out, pulling out slightly until just the tip of him remained inside, and then thrust into her, pressing down on her clit with his thumb.

She clenched so hard, he saw stars and hurriedly crammed his tongue into her mouth to smother her yelps as she came on his cock. The massage of her cunt and the taste of her tongue propelled him into his own orgasm, and he flexed into her hard, pulsing into her, groaning into their kiss.

***

Hermione conjured a mirror and waved her wand over her hair, fixing all the pieces that had gone astray. Draco had zipped her dress up, kissing along her shoulder in the same manner he had done when dressing her.

She vanished the mirror and turned round, watching Draco button his shirt, and run his fingers through his hair, feeling slightly annoyed at how it perfectly fell into place with such a simple movement.

They were in new territory now; she’d held in her feelings for him for over a year now, longer if she were honest with herself but that was a different story, one she certainly didn’t feel like unpacking so soon after he’d shagged the ever-living daylights out of her in a broom closet.

She’d been insecure since day one, since the first time he’d kissed her sitting at their desks after everyone else had gone home, bickering over a case the department was working on. It was only a few days later that she’d let him fuck her on his desk, his cock such a perfect stretch inside her, she’d practically wept as she came.

All she could think was that it would have to be a secret, one she’d take to her grave. Her friends would never understand and his family would never approve. It was all so complicated.

But now he’d told her he loved her; that his mother was at least in the know if not down right approving.

And her friends were also his friends and vice versa. Ron was busy in his pursuit of Daphne Greengrass and Harry and Theo were happily intertwined, as were Ginny and Blaise, and Pansy and Luna. Everyone always made it a point to invite both of them to everything, giving them space and not saying a word when she and Draco would sneak off from or arrive late to events together.

The only ones who hadn’t been aware of their feelings were likely them. Her and him.

Now they were, and she didn’t know where they went from here.

“I can practically hear you worrying,” he said, coming up behind her and resting his hands on her hips, his chin in the crook of her neck. “I don’t say those words lightly. In fact— I’ve never said them to anyone before apart from my mother. Possibly Theo or Blaise, after a few too many pints.”

She turned in his arms, resting her hands on his chest. “I’ve never said them either, aside from friends or my parents.”

“Really?” he marveled. “You weren’t in love with Weasley? Or…Krum?”

Hermione huffed a laugh. “I loved Ron, but not in the way everybody wanted me to. And it was mutual.” She smirked up at him. “As for Viktor? When would I have had a chance to fall in love with him? I’ve spent a total of maybe five hours with him in my entire life. He’s a great guy, Amelie is a lucky witch.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “And so am I.” He smiled and pecked her lips. “I just… do we just walk out there together? We’re colleagues; there will be paperwork at least.”

“You’re worth a little paperwork, Granger,” Draco said, pinching her bum. “Especially after a shag like that.”

Draco took her hand and let her out of the closet, and into the ballroom where all the rest of their colleagues were. He led her out to the middle of the dance floor and drew her close.

“What do you think the Prophet's headline will be tomorrow?” she asked him, her arms around his neck, their bodies indecently close.

Theo and Harry danced nearby. “Oh good,” Theo called. “They’re finally openly fucking!”

Hermione tried to glare at them but she was too happy. Instead, she smiled up at Draco.

“Don’t you ever ignore me for two weeks again, Draco Malfoy.”

“I couldn’t ignore you if I tried.” He thumbed her lower lip and then kissed her, thoroughly, in front of the entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Robards walked past them just then. “It’s about fucking time,” he muttered.

***

Draco lay on his bed, staring bleary eyed up at the goddess currently riding his cock. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, how beautiful she looked, with her hands on his chest to support her, as she rocked up and down, back and forth on him. Her tight little cunt gripped him like a glove, a metaphor which made him think of hands, which made him think of fingers, which made him think of the ring he had in his bedside table.

He relished the snug slide of her on his cock, feeling the telltale tightening of his balls and the throb of his impending orgasm. But, he needed to watch her come first before giving in to his own release. He slid his hand down between her legs, circling her clit with his thumb before applying gentle pressure.

It was enough to pitch her over the edge and he watched raptly as her orgasm overtook her, watched her eyes squeeze shut, her brow furrow, her pink lips part, her head tossed back as she moaned and writhed and clutched at him. Him. He was the one making her feel this way, giving her this pleasure. Not Krum, not McLaggen, nobody else but him.

Distracted by the fascination of watching her come, he held off as long as he could, then he rose up and toppled her onto her back while she still spasmed, and began to pound into her, giving in to his own baser needs. He needed to come so badly, and he needed to do it inside her, his witch. One who wouldn’t have given him the time of day once and now gave him everything.

She had confessed her love for him; they had even signed the necessary paperwork at the Ministry. His mother knew and was relieved that they wouldn’t have to endure any more unrequited pining. His father, locked up for a decade, seemed to have accepted it, not that Draco cared. Potter and Weasley were genuinely happy for them. The press, for the most part, left them alone. It had been six months since the Auror’s Gala, and overall, things were going swimmingly. He needed to keep her, forever, if he had his way.

He just needed to ask.

Draco was so lost in his thoughts, gazing down at her, that he didn’t realize he’d stopped his movements until Granger wriggled her hips under him.

“Why did you stop? Draco… Draco?” Her tone shifted from annoyed to bossy to concerned, but still, he just stared down at her, frozen, like a firstie Hufflepuff facing the Bloody Baron. Only… much prettier, obviously. Her cunt clenched around him, bringing him back to the present, grounding him.

But what if she said no? It would ruin everything.

Her small hands slid up his chest and cupped his face. “Draco? What is it?”

He blinked rapidly, swallowed hard, and shook his head, turning his face into one hand to kiss her palm. Slowly, he began rocking his hips into her again. Her cunt was addictive, the snug, silken glide of her unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He’d given her up once before and it had been awful; the worst two weeks of his life and that was saying a lot.

“I have to ask you something,” he said, his tone conversational, as though his cock wasn’t currently sliding in and out of her, as if his balls weren’t currently about to empty inside her. He felt stupid. Her cunt made him dumb; that was all there was to it. He was a gifted wizard, an Auror of the year, a Malfoy heir who had earned true accolades rather than just running off his family name. But none of that mattered in comparison to the woman he was buried inside of.

“Can it wait?” she whined, squeezing her hips around his, her cunt wet and fluttering around him.

“No,” he smiled, in spite of himself, knowing he probably looked insane. Granger probably thought he’d lost the plot. He gave her a firm, hard thrust, and then another. “I’m afraid not.”

He thrust and ground into her again, still gazing down at her face. He repeated the motion, pressing against her clit, determined to make her come again before he filled her nice and full. Then, once they were relaxed and calm and settled, all cleaned up, then he’d ask her.

Her breathing quickened, a pretty flush spreading down her chest as he fucked her just right, feeling her clench more and more, her gasps turning into soft moans of his name—music to his ears. She arched up into him as she came, squeezing him so tightly he felt it in his heart. That blasted heartburn again. Still, he somehow held off. It felt like he needed to earn his release, kind of like how he’d had to earn her to begin with.

“Oh gods, Draco, you’re so fucking good—ahhh…”

What he meant to say was “Yes, Granger, come all over my cock, I fucking love your cunt, it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.” All very true.

Instead he said, “Marry me.”

He watched her eyes widen, her amber turned golden, her pupils dilated, growing suspiciously misty. Her cunt was still twitching.

“Wh-what?” she asked breathlessly. Oh gods, was she going to refuse him? How undignified would it be to still come inside her after she said no? He really needed to come. His balls were starting to hurt, and his cock throbbed incessantly.

He took a deep breath, heroically stilling his movements. He was starting to think he might be a masochist.

“Marry me, Granger. I love you, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon. I’m still thoroughly obsessed with you, probably to an unhealthy degree and—oh Salazar, this isn’t going to make you agree to want to marry me, is it?”

Granger laughed. Actually threw her head back against the pillow and laughed. The fond expression she wore as she looked at him was the only thing keeping him hanging on by a thread.

“What is with your need to have these… life-altering conversations while you’re inside me?”

“I think I feel… braver when I’m, you know, in you.”

He gave his cock a little treat and thrust into her, deeply, twice. His balls ached.

She bit her lip and cocked an eyebrow as she gazed at him. “How are we going to tell our kids this story someday?”

Draco blinked exactly twice. “Our—what?”

Granger grew bashful, the silly witch. “Assuming we decide to have them, we can hardly tell our children that their father asked me to marry him while he was fucking me into the mattress.”

“I want them, with you,” he said in a rush. “If you want them, that is. Even if you don’t want to marry me, it’s just paper—i just…want you. Forever.”

She laughed again and kissed him.

“Yes,” she said affectionately. “You dummy.”

And with that, his hips surged into her, fucking her hard and fast, as his mind reeled, she’d said yes. Yes to fucking him and only him for the rest of their lives. Yes, to feeding his addiction and letting him lick her cunt and kiss her lips and every square inch of her body. Forever. He felt fucking pretty clever, actually.

His balls drew up and as his cock began to pulsate, the relief was immense. It felt so good to come, he thought his vision might black out. Granger was going to marry him and he was finally coming. He groaned long and low as he filled her in thick spurts, his hips twitching against her, pressing his lips to her throat.

He’d earned it; earned her.

Draco was beyond ecstatic. And Granger was coming too.

***

The next day, Hermione proudly wore her new ring to the office. Draco escorted her to her desk, tenderly (or possessively, but either way she didn’t mind) kissing her ring finger, before settling into his own seat.

Hermione couldn’t stop smiling, and the fact that he had proposed while she was deep in the throes of an orgasm made it all the more memorable.

As she diligently worked on the paperwork Robards had dropped by earlier, her boss passed by her desk. Glancing at the sparkling diamond of her ring, he muttered, “It’s about fucking time.”

His sentiment was met with murmurs of agreement from everyone in the office.