Chapter 11
November 17, 2018
“It’s weird to see your whole face when we’re out together in public,” Hermione smiled.
“All of my seasonally appropriate hats are back in North Carolina, so you’re stuck with me,” Draco shrugged, unable to keep a grin off of his face. “Do you buy groceries here every week?”
Hermione shook her head, “Farmer’s markets are too expensive, but I like walking around… especially now that Christmas trees are out.”
“I’m not sure it’s even lucrative for farmers to drive into the city for this,” Draco replied, unwilling to just experience the fun of a weekend market without snark.
“I’m sure it is, it’s always busy. Where to first?” she asked, unwilling to take the bait as they took a left onto 7th Street SE where Eastern Market was located.
“You’re the one making dinner, sweetheart,” Draco replied, taking Hermione’s hand into his own as they stepped onto the crowded streets that were shut down for the weekend market. He winked at her as she looked at him after he grabbed her hand.
“Do you still want to make the sauce we saw Bobby Flay make, but with chicken?”
“Cheese and spinach stuffed chicken with cranberry-serrano relish? Absolutely,” Draco replied. “I feel like it can’t possibly be good, so we’ll try it ourselves.”
Hermione shook her head with a laugh, “Why would you make something you think will be bad?”
“Well… I have a theory that most Food Network recipes are garbage and their hosts masquerade as good chefs while they’re only mediocre. This will be our first experiment.”
“You’re so cynical,” Hermione sighed. “We can get fruits and vegetables out here, then go into the inside market for the meat vendor if you don’t want to save a few dollars on chicken at Trader Joe’s.”
Draco’s snort was answer enough.
She was aware of the casually not casual stares that they were receiving. This was DC after all, and everyone knew what high-profile Members of Congress looked like. Especially the hot, single ones.
They shopped quickly, placing all of the food they purchased into the reusable bags draped over Draco’s arm. It was an uneventful trip, and that had Hermione dancing internally. Maybe this could work.
“Do you decorate your house here for Christmas?” Hermione asked as they walked out of the food section of the market and back through the section full of art vendors.
“Sometimes. I did in 2013 when we were here over the shutdown - I’d just moved in a few months earlier.”
“Do you want to get a wreath?” she asked, nodding to the vendor with gorgeous live wreaths.
“Pick one out,” he smiled, leading her over to the booth.
“This one,” she said almost immediately, grabbing one with red berries and a bright red bow on top. “It’ll look pretty every time I walk up.”
“I thought the point was to spread cheer to others?”
“I don’t live with you, making me an ‘other,’” she replied with a playful smile, almost bouncing up on her toes to kiss him before realizing where they were. The twinkle in Draco’s eyes told her he recognized exactly what she was about to do.
“Fair point,” he replied.
“Excuse me?” a tall, thin man interjected. He was dressed in khakis, a flannel and a Patagonia vest, making him look like every other man in DC.
“Yes?” Draco said, turning to him without letting go of Hermione’s hand.
“Just wanted to say congratulations on your win, man. I’m not from your district, but glad to know you’re fighting the good fight here in DC.”
“Well thank you very much. That means a lot to me,” Draco replied in a way that made it clear to Hermione that this wasn’t his first time having this sort of conversation.
The other man, however, did not based on his awestruck expression. “Of course, I couldn’t leave without saying hi… sorry to interrupt your morning.”
“No worries, appreciate your kindness, sir. Have a nice day, now,” Draco replied.
As they walked off together, Hermione let out a giggle. “Have a nice day, now sounds like something a southern villain in a movie would say.”
“What? It was a neatly tied bow to the end of our conversation,” Draco replied.
“Does that happen often?”
Draco nodded, “It does… most people are nice, like him, some want something from me… but in DC it’s mostly just folks like him.”
Hermione bit down a question she had about women who came up to him in DC.
“That was uneventful,” she replied with a smile.
“That’s good!” Draco replied. “DC people are used to seeing politicians out and about, this is no new thing.”
“Hot politicians who top the most eligible bachelor lists having a significant other are no new thing?”
“You think I’m hot?”
She rolled her eyes. “I think your Instagram notifications feed your ego enough for it to be healthy without my thoughts.”
“They don’t matter to me. Just you. I remember when you kept callin’ me Congressman even when I insisted you call me Draco. Now you’re talking about how hot I am in public… how the turn tables.”
Hermione laughed loudly at The Office reference. “I knew you liked that episode.”
“Deflection?”
She blushed. Leave it to Draco to get her to talk about how hot he was on the streets of DC.
“I think you’re handsome, okay? But I think you’re smart and witty, and I like those qualities more than your face.”
“You make a man feel real, real special, sweetheart.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” she smiled, enjoying the following silence as they walked back to Draco’s house. An almost dangerous contentment settled over her as she thought how easy it would be to get used to this.
xxx
“What do you think?” Hermione asked, watching as Draco took his first bite of chicken and looked deep in thought.
“It’s actually good,” he grumbled.
“Shouldn’t you be happy about that?” she asked, turning back to the asparagus that was cooking in a skillet.
“I guess so,” he replied, cutting off another piece off the same chicken breast and dipping it in the relish. “Try it.”
Hermione opened her mouth, accepting the bite from his fork. A spicy cranberry sauce on cheesy chicken was actually scrumptious. She knew Bobby Flay wouldn’t have a bad recipe in his repertoire. “It’s delicious!”
“You’re delicious,” Draco replied, voice a low growl.
Even after he uttered the most textbook phrase ever, Hermione let out a gasp as Draco kissed her.
“So pretty,” he peppered kisses along her neck. “Just want to keep you locked up in my room and never let you out.”
“Oh? Would you be allowed out?”
Draco shook his head, “Solitude pact. We’d never leave.”
“Sounds good to me,” she smiled. “I need to finish cooking or I’ll burn the asparagus.”
Hermione thought for a second that Draco would leave her alone, but rethought that as he gently slipped a hand up the bottom of her knit sweater to gently thumb her nipple.
She was feeling a bit bold and moved her hand back to try and slip it in his sweats, but he gently clasped her fingers in his own and put it back at her side.
“Draco,” she said, the word sounding more like a groan than a question. “Why don’t you ever let me touch you?”
“All in good time, sweetheart.”
“Hasn’t enough time passed? It’s new to me, but I want to learn,” she frowned.
Draco removed his hand from her shirt as she’d effectively killed the mood. Before she could worry about his reaction, though, he hopped up on the counter and looked over.
She tried again, nothing if not insistent. This time she knew she’d get an answer.
“Do you think I want to save myself for marriage?”
The way his eyes widened told her everything she needed to know.
“For someone who prides themselves on communication… why didn’t you just ask?”
Draco smiled sheepishly. “Consider this me asking.”
“No, Draco,” she met his eyes as gently as she could when she really wanted to whack him for being so obtuse. “I remember being in my church group back in Seattle, surrounded by couples who were abstinent. Which I get; I do. But… I’ve just witnessed the mutual destruction in my parents’ relationship from their secrets and their vices. Intimacy is important, and I’m certain it won’t send me to hell, but it might save me from being in a relationship that feels like hell.
“Have you dated women who are saving themselves for marriage? I’m assuming your mother’s dropped a few of those on your doorstep.”
Draco smiled wryly.
“I have. We were also incompatible. It’s a sacrifice I wasn’t willing to make at the time, and am still not. Sexual intimacy is critical to knowing if you’re compatible with your partner.”
“That’s really hard,” Hermione sympathized.
“Relationships are hard, but that’s why we need to talk. So sorry for letting you down on this one, sweetheart. Let’s eat this ridiculous meal and then we can talk a little more. But first, let me post this masterpiece on my Instagram story…”
Hermione agreed. Finally, she could get some answers. It was a bit odd, having skirted around conversation on anything sexual. The man had seen her naked, taken care of her in the bath, yet she hadn’t even seen his penis. Was it messed up? Did he not like having it touched? There were so many thoughts that had started to sprout up in her head the more this went on. He took care of her so well that she wanted to be able to reciprocate.
Dinner was an easy affair with an undercurrent of tension. Draco had suggested getting into pajamas before the conversation, and Hermione found herself laying on his bed with her favored fuzzy blanket pulled over her while she waited for him to talk a few minutes later.
“As much as we like to tell each other that our ages and respective professions aren’t a concern, they are. If people see us together, they’re automatically going to assume that I coerced you into a sexual relationship with me. People like to assume the worst of politicians and men in general. I’m no martyr, sugar, but I’ve exercised a restraint that I wasn’t aware I had over the past few months. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret later or feel pressured to be in a relationship with me… both for your own health and everything that could play out in the public arena.
“I wish it wasn’t this way, but the man is hardly ever blamed. They find fault with the woman… look at Monica Lewinsky, she was a young woman and her name was raked through the mud more than President Clinton’s at the time. It’s a damn shame, but it’s the way power in this world works.”
“I thought something was wrong with me,” she said quietly. “It’s weird, right? Everything is going well, then sex is kind of just looming over us like a dark cloud that won’t go away.
“Growing up, I learned that men just always want to get women into bed. So when you didn’t, I figured you were just being respectful. But there’s a point where you start to worry, you know?”
Draco smiled softly, “I know. And I’ll be damned if I haven’t thought about everything I want to do to you far more than I should at the most inopportune times. There’s a caution that needs to be taken, though, sweetheart. If you were to change your mind, even after something as small as touching me… that’s serious. Especially if anyone thought I’d taken advantage of you.”
Hermione couldn’t help it; she crawled over to Draco. He looked too forlorn to be left alone.
“I’m grateful that you care this much. I hope you know how serious I am, Draco. That this isn’t a fleeting thing or a hookup. This is real. I feel like you may be a bit scared that I’m going to run away screaming. I’m not, I promise.”
Draco kissed the skin from his shirt that was slipping down her shoulder.
“Got me in one, sugar. I’m going to continue to ask for your consent, though. This is new to you, and I don’t expect you to enjoy everything I enjoy.”
“It’s so overwhelming to think that every couple I’ve met has had conversations like this,” Hermione said after letting everything sink in for a moment.
Draco snorted, “Why do you think the divorce rate is so high? People don’t have these conversations. They just shove their wants and needs to the side, sexual or otherwise. I told you when we first met; I’m a blunt man. There’s no need to suffer in a relationship just to be in a relationship.”
Draco pulled her in for a kiss. “I like a lot of things about you… but the fact that you’re willing to be as honest and cautious as I am is top of the list. I’d rather talk things through before acting in every situation.”
“Same,” Hermione piped up. “Much to the annoyance of everyone I know.”
“To hell with them… we can be careful together.”
“So let me say it directly… I want more Draco,” she smiled.
The man looked at her with a hungry look in his eyes, and he reached one big paw over to pull her onto his lap.
Draco let out a soft groan as their lips met, and she felt that. Deeply.
There was a sense of rightness and relief that could only come from the understanding she now had in her relationship with Draco.
He liked her. He thought she was beautiful… he thought about her naked.
She’d seen his hungry looks, but to have him acting on them after months of dancing around one another?
It was everything.
She was only in her panties and his t-shirt, which had already rucked up around her hips. She could feel Draco growing hard under her, and the logical part of her wanted to marvel at that.
The recently-awakened sexual deviant, however, had her whimpering into their kiss and rolling her hips a bit to feel more friction on her core.
Unlike every other time she’d attempted to rub herself against him, Draco did not stop her. He ran his hands down her body, stopping to rub her already stiff nipples to peaks through her shirt before landing on her hips. She let out a loud moan as he started to move her against him, the feeling of his cock enough to fuel a lifetime of daydreams. He held her, controlling her movements and squeezing tightly like he couldn’t bear to let go.
She was no penis expert, not even close, but his clothed dick felt thick enough that she felt it everywhere. There was no reprieve from the friction as he rocked her forward and backwards, not that she wanted any. Honestly, she thought she might cry if Draco pulled her off of him when her core was already pulsating with need. She knew that if she were to look down, she’d see a wet spot on his grey sweats from her arousal, and that knowledge only made the moment even hotter.
“Draco,” she whimpered, reaching a hand up to tug at his shirt.
He removed a hand from her hips at that, but didn’t cease for even a second in the unforgiving tempo. Her eyes popped open in shock as he pulled her hand down from his chest and held it tightly behind her back.
“No, Hermione.”
“Please, let me see you,” she whispered against his mouth, nipping his lip in reprimand as she weighed whether or not to use her other hand. Would he really stop her?
"Just because I let you on top doesn't mean you're in charge, sweetheart,” he growled, nipping back and driving her even harder over himself.
She could feel the head of his dick hit her clit with every stroke as he increased his pace, and the moan she let out wasn’t of her own volition. It was like Draco knew exactly how to direct their bodies for maximum pleasure. Realistically, she assumed that was pretty easy with a penis that large.
She didn’t know a moment without Draco against her, showing her a glimpse of the heaven it’d be like to have him inside of her. She needed it.
“Please,” she squealed, thighs shaking as her climax drew closer.
“Perfect,” Draco groaned, just as desperately. “Cum with me, sweetheart.”
Hermione couldn’t be held accountable for what escaped her mouth, the feeling of her own wetness merging with Draco’s through the thin fabrics that separated them was the hottest thing she’d ever experienced as she slumped forward. Their panting breaths were the only sound in the room, the only evidence of their first shared orgasm smeared in her panties and the interior of his pants.
She rocked her hips again against Draco’s, hoping to feel the wetness that was evidence of her bringing him pleasure.
“Gonna kill me, sweetheart,” he said, squeezing her hips in warning.
She could feel the telltale sensation of bruising, and that… that was weirdly hot. It was definitely a thing that she didn’t know would be a thing.
To know that she was going to go into work that week in her modest dresses with Draco’s handprints branding her as his with the people of DC none the wiser… it was almost enough to have her begging for round two. She yawned, her warm breath clouding against his now sweaty neck. Almost.
November 22, 2018
Hermione knew her faults. Top of the list? An inability to say no to anyone close to her. She had always been incredibly loyal, which made disappointing the very few people she considered close to her down.
Which is how she ended up at the Potter-Evans DC Thanksgiving dinner.
Harry had told her to come over to his parents’ home at 10am to pregame before the Lions game started and enjoy “a day of football and food.”
After holding out as long as she could, Hermione knocked on the Potter family’s door around 2:30pm. Lily opened the door with a bright smile, pulling Hermione into a careful hug.
“Hermione! Welcome to our first DC Thanksgiving!” Lily greeted. “We’re so happy you could join us.”
“Thank you so much for having me, Lily,” Hermione replied. She’d gotten on a first name basis with the woman during the many hours spent driving around over the election, and after realizing how awful it was when adults didn’t ask you to call them by their first names… cough Lucius and Narcissa cough… she decided she’d honor the woman’s request.
“No skin off our back! And Harry said you’re a brilliant baker, which is fantastic since I can’t bake for the life of me!”
Hermione had been a bit bored and lonely with both Pansy and Draco gone, so much so that she’d made chocolate chip cookies, cranberry tart, apple pie and pumpkin pie. This was her cry for help.
“I got a little too into baking,” Hermione smiled sheepishly. “I think you’ll have dessert for days.”
“With James and Harry here? I think it’ll be gone in minutes! Take your shoes off, Harry is in the living room and my parents will be here soon,” Lily directed, grabbing the stack of tins from Hermione’s arms.
A little while later, Hermione had a glass of wine in her hand and Harry squished up against her side while he got far too into a football game that no one present had stock in.
She felt like 3pm was too early to be drinking, but then again, with the way her boss and his son were shouting at the TV, she rethought that.
“When’s Padfoot coming, dad?” Harry asked.
“He should be here any minute,” the older man replied.
“Who?” Hermione asked, quiet enough so only Harry could hear.
“My godfather,” he smiled. “You’ll love him, he’s dope as hell. Literally.”
Whatever that meant.
Pansy was off in Hilton Head, texting Hermione sporadically over the past few days. Hermione didn’t necessarily understand the point of going to an expensive beach when it wasn’t even warm enough to lay out, but she wasn’t going to bring that up to Pansy. Rich people weren’t meant to be understood.
Draco, on the other hand, was with his entire family in Charlotte. Hermione had a full blown panic attack at the thought of attending a Malfoy-Black holiday, which she was certain would happen over Christmas. She didn’t even have the excuse of going to see family; she would just look like a coward if she said no. And Hermione was no coward.
“Smells good!” a new voice came from the front hall.
“Padfoot!” Congressman Potter called, standing up from the well-loved recliner he was lounging in and moving towards the front door.
Hermione had hoped they’d at least mute the very loud television, but no dice. Harry didn’t even move, despite saying how excited he was to see this newcomer. Was football really that captivating?
“Hermione, I’d like to introduce you to my dearest friend, Sirius Black.”
“Sirius? Like the dog star? Hi, sir, it’s nice to meet you,” Hermione replied, standing up to shake the man’s hand.
“So polite!” the attractive man with shoulder-length black wavy hair said. Hermione recognized his eyes immediately and tried not to stiffen or stare. “And yes, unfortunately I am named after an exploding ball of gas, though I’d say that description is more apt of my mother. Smart girl… Where’d you find this one, Harry?”
“Oh!” Harry choked on his beer, almost shoving the neck of the bottle fully into his mouth. “She’s not… never.”
Way to make a girl feel special.
“Hermione’s one of my brilliant team members, but went to school with Harry.”
“Nice,” the man replied.
“Want a beer?” James asked, receiving a snort in reply as Sirius followed him to the kitchen that Lily wouldn’t allow her in.
Hermione: Are you related to a Sirius Black?
She put her phone down on her lap, not expecting Draco to reply. He’d been texting on and off all day, but not enough to satisfy the pang of loneliness that a holiday without a real family brought her.
That’s why she jolted a bit when her phone vibrated almost immediately.
Draco: Run. Away.
Draco: I will buy you a turkey if you go home right now, sweetheart.
There wasn’t even time to reply before the man who had Draco worried came back in and made itself at home to her right.
“So, Hermione, what do you do for James?”
“I’m staff assistant, sir. I manage the front desk, schedule tour requests, coordinate our intern program, and write the congressman’s correspondence.”
Sirius whistled, “Sounds like a tough gig. You paid well?”
Hermione blushed, looking to see if Harry was listening. To no one’s surprise, he was not, mouth half open as he leaned forward on his knees and stared at the TV as though something actually interesting was on.
“I’m not sure that’s appropriate, sir.”
“Stop with the sir business, that’s also not appropriate for me.”
“How did you meet Congressman Potter?” she asked, attempting a topic diversion.
“Oh, it was a meeting of magical chance, my girl. We were stuck at the airport bar trying to get back home after summer internships on the Hill, Portland for me at the time, Seattle for him of course, and shared a few brews. Barely made it on our planes we were so drunk, but we’ve been tighter than spandex shorts ever since.”
Okay, Draco may have not been far off with wanting to avoid this one.
“Wow, what a serendipitous meeting,” Hermione smiled. “What do you do for work?”
“I’m the president and founder of Marauder,” he replied as though that said everything.
“Hell yeah he is!” Harry replied. So he was listening.
Hermione frowned, “I’m sorry, I’m unfamiliar.”
The man smiled, a predatory little expression. “Where’d Prongs find a girl this sweet and innocent?”
“Stop, Sirius,” Harry replied, only looking over for a second. “She’s half your age.”
“Sorry, little lamb. Marauder is a cannabis company, we’re the largest producer and distributor of North America. I take it you’ve never tried us out?”
Hermione shook her head. “No, sir. Congratulations on your success; do you find yourself in DC lobbying often?”
“Oh, as little as possible, but unfortunately the Republicans don’t make it easy for me to stay on the west coast.”
“Ah, are you a lobbyist?”
“More or less. I have a twisted, tangled web of connections out here in Washington, so I do my best to raise hell and get bills passed. If only my bastard cousin-in-law would pass them in the Senate, my business would be in even better shape.”
Did she dare reply? I mean… more information on Draco’s family was like forbidden fruit shining up at her from a very accessible branch.
“You’re related to Senator Malfoy?”
“Would say it’s a stain on my name, but you can’t really stain black, can you?”
Hermione laughed a bit, hoping to stir on the conversation. She was feeling uncharacteristically cunning.
“His wife’s my dear young cousin who he snatched in his greedy little fingers before she could barely walk.”
“Oh?”
“Married and popped out their demon spawn before they were even out of high school. Unfortunately, my family lives as though their duty is to perpetuate every racist, backwards stereotype that’s ever been laid on the south. Thankfully I got out while I could.”
“Hermione doesn’t want to hear about this, Siri,” the congressman chastised as he walked into the room. “You know I get on fine with Draco, he’s not like his parents.”
“He’s a politician, Prongs, his job is to look relatable and benevolent. Just don’t come crying to me for help when his prized Confederate bayonet is lodged in your back.”
Hermione tried to stop herself from snorting; Draco did not have Confederate memorabilia in either of his homes. She’d asked of course, but the lot of items were with Lucius. Go figure.
“Dramatic, this one is,” James muttered. “Let’s sit out back for a bit, need to tell you what happened last week…”
Sirius left with a tip of his shaggy head towards Hermione.
Hermione checked her phone and saw another text from Draco.
Draco: Turkey and sides* Dessert if you want it. Name your price.
Hermione: Too late. He’s very… eccentric.
Draco: That’s what you got out of your conversation with him?
Hermione: It may come as a surprise… but he isn’t too fond of your family.
Draco: That is… the understatement of a lifetime. He’s got a penchant for pretty little girls, so keep your distance.
Hermione: Ew. I’m into blonds, anyways. And men who don’t smell like frat houses.
Draco: That so, sweetheart? I guess it’s my lucky day on both counts.
Hermione: I miss you.
Draco: Say the word and I’ll fly you down.
Hermione: You’ll be back in two days, love. Hardly necessary, but appreciated.
Draco: You’ll find that necessity when it comes to your happiness is hardly top of mind for me. Say the word. Also say the word if you want an Uber home and dinner delivered.
Hermione: I’ll let you know.
“Mione, I’m gonna get some air outside. I’ll be right back,” Harry said, moving at a fast clip to the rowhouse’s backdoors.
Hermione sighed. Didn’t she come here so she wasn’t alone?
Hermione: Tell me you’re having fun. At least one of us should be having fun.
Pansy: Want to come to Hilton Head? The bartender is making mudslides.
Hermione: You’re going to throw up before you even eat turkey.
Pansy: Mother’s decided we’re doing roast duck; turkey is officially bourgeois.
Hermione: I’ll pretend I know how an animal is middle-class.
Pansy: Gotta go, sis. Say a prayer that I make it to dinner, father’s feeling frisky and risky and betting a shit ton of money on football against my uncles and Perseus. I think I’m going to ask him to redo my bathroom.
Hermione: Prayers going up for your urgent request.
Pansy: *Regina George ‘love ya’ gif*
After a few more minutes alone, Hermione moved into the kitchen. Lily’s kitchen protectiveness be damned, she wasn’t going to sit alone all day.
“Lily? Can I come and sit with you?”
The woman turned around from the potatoes she was mashing, expression moving from one of concentration to a scowl.
“Are the boys out back?”
“They are,” Hermione confirmed.
“I curse the day that James brought Sirius Black into my life and home,” she groaned.
“Is he that bad?” Hermione asked.
“He has a meteoric chip on his shoulder and the worst sense of self-preservation I’ve ever seen. He’s a disaster. Worse, he’s the cool friend James never had, so he’d follow Sirius right off the bridge.”
“And Harry’s hopping off right after his dad,” Hermione finished.
Lily’s smile was small and resigned. “Exactly. I’m sorry they left you.”
“No worries, Lily, you can’t control their actions. Can I help?”
“If you want to roll up the crescent rolls, I have two tubes of Pillsbury dough in the fridge. The last thing anyone needs to do on holidays is make fresh bread.”
“Amen,” Hermione replied, moving to the fridge. The Potter’s home was beautiful, but it was less modern than Draco’s. Her boss flew out on the first flight back west, so she knew it didn’t matter as much for them to constantly switch out their appliances and furniture.
Hermione was glad to talk to Lily while they finished up dinner and welcomed the woman’s elderly parents in. It was clear that they had Lily a bit later in life, since the woman was not even 50 yet. She desperately tried not to think of what people would think if they saw her and Draco together in a few years.
“Grab the boys?” Lily asked as she finished carving up the turkey, the last thing to be set on the table. The Potters didn’t have a formal dining room, so they were set up right in their cozy kitchen.
Hermione saw Harry with a cigarette in his mouth as she stepped outside, but as she remembered Sirius’ company, she was less certain of its contents. Honestly, she did not want to know if her boss was smoking weed; better that remain a mystery.
“Dinner’s ready,” she smiled as she leaned her head out the door. “Lily’s parents have also arrived.”
If they were smoking weed, she hoped that would straighten them up.
“Right on!” James cheered. Guess not.
Thanksgiving dinner with the Potters was unlike anything Hermione was used to.
Lily’s parents, Rose and James, ironic enough, were lovely if not a bit crotchety. They were stereotypical old people, which was something Hermione could play to.
Old people loved her, for the most part. Rose and James were no different, though they were a bit upset to find out Hermione was not Harry’s new girlfriend. Lily did reprimand Harry after he swore on his life that he would never date Hermione. As though she would even date him, honestly.
Hermione's phone buzzed three times during their meal, and she didn’t move it from where she’d stuffed it under her thigh. She was in the same sweater dress that she’d worn to dinner with the Malfoys, figuring it was the nicest thing she owned and this occasion deserved it.
“Boys do dishes, mom, dad, Hermione and I will settle down in the family room,” Lily smiled as everyone finished eating.
“Top meal, Lils! You are the wife I never want, but always wish I had on nights like these,” Sirius replied.
Lily just rolled her eyes. Hermione was glad to get out of the kitchen after placing the apple pie in the oven to heat back up.
She checked her phone in the bathroom. Three texts from Pansy.
Pansy: Hey
Pansy: Heyyyyyyyy
Pansy: How’s Harry?
Hermione grinned despite herself, leaning against the wall of the small first floor half-bath as she responded.
Hermione: We just finished dinner. Why?
The response was immediate.
Pansy: Just thinkn about him… Harry Pottahh
Hermione: You will regret it if you text him.
Pansy: Or we fall in love.
Hermione: So that’s the problem. He already thinks he’s in love w you. Text him and you’ll regret it.
Pansy: I’ll see where the Holy Spirit leads me. Peace, love, etc.
Hermione: Holy Spirits*
Pansy: That was funny.
Hermione walked out to the sound of a dish crashing and moved into the kitchen, holding up a hand to Lily. The older woman had done enough, the least Hermione could do was help clean up.
“Everyone okay?” she asked lightly, trying not to sound too patronizing in front of her boss, but also well aware that these men were clearly useless when it came to cleaning up dishes.
“Mione! Guess who just texted me?” Harry smiled, still standing in front of a shattered dish.
Well. The Holy Spirits moved in Pansy’s heart rather quickly. Or maybe it was down her throat.
“Who?” she asked. Harry deserved to have some enthusiasm and build up.
“Pansy Parkinson,” he replied, saying her full name like she was a celebrity. If Hermione could freeze frame and break the fourth wall, she would. This was the problem; Harry didn’t see Pansy as a person. Things would only go downhill from here.
“Nice,” she replied. “I’m going to set the pies up.”
“Another cook in this kitchen? Jamesie, you’re one lucky man.”
James frowned, and Hermione was grateful. “Sirius, stop it. Inappropriate and out of line. Last chance.”
The chastised man held his hands up, “Just being me.”
“Then stop being you in front of my young employee. You’re old enough to be her father.”
“Well, I’m not.”
Hermione felt slightly ill thinking about a very similar conversation that had taken place a few weeks earlier. Only the sentiment here was far less sweet.
Her dessert was a hit, and she’d even made it into the Potter family Thanksgiving photo that was shared on the Instagram that James ran for himself. Much to Tonks’ dismay, it was full of weird photos and memes that made no sense to most people.
How did Lee put it… it was like John Cena’s Instagram, only a congressman’s.
Lily insisted on the camera timer because Hermione was family. She wouldn’t lie over having a lump in her throat at that, but smiled through it.
“Are you sure you want to leave Hermione?” Harry asked, fluttering by the front door as Hermione waited for her ride.
“I am,” she smiled. “I’m going to have to go into work tomorrow to put in some White House tour requests, so it’ll be easier if I’m at home. Thank you for having me.”
“I’m so happy you came. You’re like the sister I never had,” Harry replied, pulling her into a tight hug. Hermione immediately felt guilty; he really was a puppy. Hard to stay angry at despite their stupid, irrational and messy actions.
“I feel the same, Harry. I’ll see you soon.”
“Text me when you’re home! Happy Thanksgiving to all, and to all a good night!”
Hermione shook her head as she hopped into the Uber and headed home.
Hermione: In a car home.
Draco: A black car I hope?
Hermione: A silver Subaru with plastic coverings on the seats, you mean?
Draco: Exactly. That’s exactly the car I had in mind. I’ll be home soon… call you then.
Hermione: Xo, drive safe.
Draco: Didn’t drink, knew what was coming.
Well if that didn’t twist Hermione’s stomach into tiny knots.
She was checking on the locks and windows when Draco FaceTimed.
“Hii,” she smiled, face looking oddly shadowed in the bright light of the front foyer.
“What are you doing?” he asked, clearly just walking into his house. Hermione felt warm at the thought that he couldn’t wait to call her.
“Checking the locks and windows before I head upstairs,” she replied, not letting him know that it felt weird sleeping alone when basically no one was around to hear her scream lest someone break in.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
Hermione laughed, “Are all men given the same lessons on the importance of home security?”
“I think it’s our caveman instincts, one of the few that carried over into the modern man. Did you have a good night?”
Hermione nodded, walking up the stairs. “It was lovely, Lily is a wonderful cook. Her parents were very sweet too.”
“And the other three?”
She thought about whether or not it’d hurt to share about her boss. “Well, your cousin was a bit weird.”
“Weird is a vague word for pigheaded, irrational, rude and misogynistic.”
“All of the above,” Hermione replied.
“What’d he say to you?” Draco asked, handsome jaw clenched tight.
“James told him to stop, I was surprised, honestly.”
“You shouldn’t have a boss who surprises you when he stands up for women.
“No! No. Let me finish my thought,” Hermione replied quickly. Draco got too far ahead of himself when she was involved, sometimes. “James was very serious, there was no joking in his tone. I just mean that I was surprised he threatened to kick Sirius out on a holiday.”
“Good on him. Sorry he’s such a prick, sweetheart. Are you getting in bed?”
“I am,” Hermione replied. “I’ll leave my lamp on.”
“Just how I like it,” Draco smiled as he walked up the stairs. Hermione noticed that he was in a full suit, not that she was surprised. The Malfoys were far too proper to have anything but a formal holiday meal.
“How was your dinner? You were eerily nondescript.”
Draco sighed, “It was honestly fine for the most part, but father made enough snippy comments that everyone was informed of our relationship by the time the bread basket made it over to me.”
“Everyone meaning both sets of grandparents, your mother’s sisters, their husbands, your great aunt and uncle and their son?”
“Perfect recall as always.”
“How’d they reply?”
“Grandfather Malfoy shut it down quickly, telling father that the holiday is about giving thanks not sharing gripes. But Columba defended us and I thought father had died. He spluttered “Princess!” a few times before regaining his composure.”
“Wow,” Hermione replied, a small smile on her face. “Columba is the best.”
“She is. The four of us stepped into a private sitting room for a conversation, and I can honestly tell you that I think she brought father around.”
“Really?”
“Really… He said that he trusts me, but we all need to sit down with his advisers to concoct a game plan.”
“For what? His White House run?” Hermione whispered the last part, as though someone were listening in even though she was alone in the house.
“Exactly. It’s pretty standard protocol, but it’ll be better to have you meet everyone before we get into the swing of the race. It’ll move quickly.”
“Did you tell your family about the Senate seat?”
“No, that’ll be kept close. The governor could get in serious trouble for jumping the gun, so we’ll only let it trickle around as speculation.”
“Well, my lips are sealed,” Hermione promised.
“I know they are. You are more than I deserve, Hermione.”
“Funny because I feel the same.”
“Accept my compliment.”
“I’m serious, Draco! You’re a good man, and I’m grateful. Can’t I give thanks for you?”
“Hmm… we have two hours left of this overblown holiday, so I’ll allow it.”
“Thank you, Draco,” she smiled, feeling a bit shy at having the microphone to use as she wished. “You have brightened my life in so many ways… you make me laugh, you talk back to me, you read with me, and you take care of me… It may sound trite, but you give me the confidence I’ve never had to go after what I want and what you think I deserve. Thank you.”
“I’d do anything for you, sweetheart. I’m just as grateful; I wasn’t aware that I could use a new lease on life until I met you. The next few years are going to be hard, but I know it’ll be worth it.”
“If I had a glass I’d clink it against yours. Oh, that was weird. The Potters didn’t do a prayer, but they had everyone go around and share what they were grateful for… your cousin said he was grateful that he wasn’t in a freezing mansion in the middle of BFE, North Carolina with the gun-toting maniacs he shares DNA with.”
“He’s awful. And it’s literally Charlotte, not the mountains. Could he be more dramatic?
“I’m not inclined to disagree, honestly,” Hermione yawned. “I need to go to sleep… goodnight Draco.”
“Sleep well. Sweet dreams.”
“You too,” she ended the video chat and plugged her phone in for a night of uninterrupted sleep.
xxx
November 29, 2018
“Hermione, do you have a moment?” Remus asked, causing Hermione to jump like a frightened cat at her desk.
“Oh, you scared me!” she blushed, drawing a kind laugh from her chief of staff. “Of course, let me finish this email quickly, sir.”
“Take your time.”
Hermione felt caught between panic and more panic. It was a week after Thanksgiving… had she done something? Did someone see her and Draco at Eastern Market or Trader Joe’s or on a walk?
She shook the panicked thoughts out of her head and stood up. Smoothing down her dark purple Calvin Klein dress and light grey Old Navy scarf that she’d taken to throwing around her shoulders like a shawl, she walked into Remus’ office.
The man was already waiting outside of James’ closed door, knocking once before entering and throwing Hermione for a loop. She was close to puking as she followed.
“Shut the door,” Remus said, taking a seat as though he’d done it a million times. Which, to be fair, he probably had.
Hermione, however, had not, and felt like a child in the principal’s office. Also something she’d never experienced in her life, but she assumed this is what it felt like.
“Sorry, one sec,” James muttered, eyes on the paper in front of him that he was marking up with a blue felt tip pen. The room was quiet for a few minutes, which only served to increase Hermione’s nervousness. “Ugh, sorry. E&C hearing remarks for next week.”
“No worries,” Remus replied, though it honestly didn’t matter if they were worried. James was the boss, they lived and died by his schedule. “James and I just wanted to have a sit down with you and see how your year is going and how you’re enjoying your time in our office.”
Oh. This was a far better conversation than she expected.
“Absolutely… It’s hard to believe that I’ve been working here full time for almost a year, but I’ve really enjoyed it and feel like I’ve grown. I’m also proud of the work that we’ve done to increase the number of visiting families who get to meet the congressman and diversify our internship program. One of my top priorities was ensuring that we can open up this opportunity to more than just individually wealthy students, and we’ve seen seven interns now come in on scholarships that our office has set up with local organizations. There are three more in the winter semester as well. I’m grateful for you allowing me to take such an important role on; your trust means a lot to me…”
Remus’ smile was fond. “You are far too humble, Hermione. The scholarships were all you; they also garnered local coverage from every print and TV station in the district. Even though your name wasn’t reported, you are to thank for this incredible program.”
Hermione blushed, shaking her head.
“Far too modest, Hermione! Take some credit… you are an incredibly hard worker. Too hard, honestly, sometimes I have my fingers crossed that you’ll be out of the office when I get back from late votes, but you never are. We saw a spark in you while you were an intern, and you haven’t let us down yet. Right Rem?”
“Exactly, which is why we want to bring you in on something that is close to the chest right now. We ask that you don’t share, but James has been asked by Speaker Dumbledore to serve as Chairman of the Energy and Commerce Committee next Congress. Though they haven’t officially met yet, the steering committee has already unanimously endorsed James as their candidate, which makes this a sure thing.”
“Congratulations, sir! That’s amazing and so well-deserved,” Hermione smiled.
“Thanks, dear.” James smiled, looking like a man who’d just been handed a beautifully wrapped gift basket full of his hopes and dreams. Which, honestly, he had.
“In this role, he’ll have some of our staff move over to the committee to work with other offices and serve as solely committee advisers. Frank has obviously served the congressman since he was first elected, and he will serve as staff director. We’ve also asked Lee to serve as a committee clerk.”
Hermione tried not to smile at what she hoped would come next.
James cut in, clearly wanting to give the good news himself if his grin was any indication. “Which is why we’d love to have you step into the role of legislative correspondent. Lee shared just how much you’ve done with the mail program, not that you’d ever tell us, so we’re confident that you’ll transition seamlessly into the role.”
Remus nodded, “We’d also like to offer you a few legislative issues; you’ve certainly shown that you can handle the increased responsibility. Right now, we’re thinking children, housing and veterans. We’d also like you to help Dorcas with women’s issues, which is obviously an important and expansive one. How does this all sound? I know we’ve thrown a lot at you.”
“This sounds incredible, congressman, Remus. I’m honored and excited for the chance to do legislative work and handle the mail program. Thank you so much.”
“Remus, you almost forgot about money!” James said, eyes wide. “I’d tell her we’re giving her a million dollars, but I know that isn’t right.”
Hermione laughed. One million dollars was a little less than the congressman’s budget for the entirety of the year; she’d be happy with $35k.
“Of course… the conversation that really matters. Starting in January, we’ll be able to bump you up $10 thousand to $42 thousand annually. We also have the matter of an end of year bonus due to the leftover funds we have in the budget. Your December paycheck will have an extra $8 thousand dollars as a thank you for the incredible work you’ve done on behalf of our constituents.”
What. On. Earth.
“Thank you, Hermione. Really,” James smiled. “We’re so glad to have you as a part of our funky little family here in Congress. We both know how totally shitty it is to be a staff assistant. You answer to everyone and anyone, and unfortunately that is a part of the experience of working here on the Hill that’ll never change. But now you get to experience what comes after the shit work; being promoted.”
Remus shot the man a look for cussing twice.
“Wow, thank you so much. Really… I am grateful. Thank you.”
I’d do this work for free if I could, she didn’t say, but she realized she meant it. She loved bettering the lives of others and being able to use her brain for the good of her neighbors.
“Look at her, not even admitting how awful her job is,” James laughed.
“It’s not awful… I knew what I was getting into, and like you said, sir, everyone does it. Hopefully one day soon it’s just a very distant memory.”
“Of course,” Remus smiled. “Let’s finish up the year strong. We’ll announce the holiday schedule soon, so keep your eyes peeled for that.”
“Thank you both so much!” Hermione smiled brilliantly, standing up and walking out through the door she came in, hoping not to draw attention to the fact that she’d been in the congressman’s office. The intern who’d hopped up front to sit at her desk left, and she pulled out her phone to text Draco the good news. It felt amazing to have someone who she thought of immediately to share positive developments with.
She stopped herself after only a moment’s thought; if she shared the news about her soon-to-be promotion, she’d have to tell him that James was going to assume the role as Chairman of the Energy and Commerce Committee. Something that Remus said was private for now. Where was the line between office privacy and sharing with your significant other who was a member of the opposing political party?
Well, she countered herself, Draco is being put up by Minority Leader Yaxley as ranking member on the committee, so what would it hurt?
That’s where she landed. She trusted Draco implicitly, and honestly, there were worse and far more damaging tests of his trustworthiness than something that’d land in the news from ‘anonymous sources’ in a few days anyways as House leadership was being decided in the days ahead. And didn’t he have her holding onto something far bigger with his father’s White House run?
She’d need to trust Draco to make this work, and the only way to do that was… to trust him.
Hermione: Can you talk?
She went back to emailing the barrage of constituents who’d angrily emailed asking why she couldn’t set them up for a White House tour on Christmas, as though Secret Service agents had nothing better to do on the holiday than stand sentry for visiting families to tour the space. It took about thirty minutes for him to reply, and by that point she was about to explode with the need to tell someone what’d happened.
Draco: What’s wrong?
Hermione: Nothing, just need to talk to you. Purposefully vague.
Draco: Come to my office in 20. Private entry will be unlocked. Need lunch?
Hermione: Yes please. Whatever you’re having.
Draco: Leaving conference lunch; will grab you a chicken teriyaki bowl on the way out.
Hermione: My hero. Thank you :)
She didn’t leave until the 20-minute mark, not wanting to arrive before Draco did. The interns looked shocked to see her taking a lunch break, but she ignored it.
To this point, she and Draco hadn’t met up at the office, but she was fit to bursting if she didn’t tell him immediately. She also trusted that Draco would tell her if he didn’t think it was a good idea to meet up; but she was also certain that the vagueness of her texts either worried or intrigued him. Her bet was on worried.
Hermione looked around the blessedly empty hallway casually before walking into Draco’s office. The man sat at his desk with the normal skyhigh stack of papers in front of him, looking anything but focused. She noticed that he had his curtains that faced the courtyard shut, even though he wasn’t on the ground floor. Draco really was always thinking ahead.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked, standing up and only pausing his strides over to Hermione as a smile bloomed on her face. “Or… what’s right?”
“I got a promotion,” she exclaimed, grateful for the immediate hug that she was pulled into.
“Hermione, congratulations! Come tell me everything while you eat.” Draco smiled, pulling her back behind his desk and sitting down. She expected it when he pulled her right onto his lap, but looked back at him nervously.
“Are you sure?”
“No one walks into my office without knocking first, sweetheart. We’re fine.”
“Okay,” she replied, opening up the still hot carryout container. “This actually looks good.”
“Yeah, they got catering from a small restaurant out in Rockville that Yaxley swears by. Take a few bites then tell me about your new job…”
“Well, you can’t tell anyone this, okay?” she turned to look at him, face close to his due to their position.
“My lips are sealed as always.”
“Dumbledore asked Congressman Potter to chair E&C.”
Draco just nodded, looking unsurprised. “That doesn’t surprise me, honestly, now that Binns is stepping down. Maybe James can chair a hearing without staff having to shake him awake.”
Hermione laughed, trying not to spit out the bite she’d just taken. Cuthbert Binns was 79 going on 125. The man was always being blasted on Twitter for falling asleep during committee hearings, despite his role as the chair of one of the most powerful committees in Congress. It was past time that he handed the gavel over to someone else.
“I appreciate you trusting me with that, sweetheart. But what I really care about is your promotion… What's your new role? LC?”
She nodded, holding up a finger while she swallowed. “Lee and Frank will move over to committee, so I’m getting bumped up to LC. You know how Lee is only LC, though? They’re giving me a portfolio.”
“Hermione!” Draco grinned, pressing a kiss to her sauce-covered lips.
“That’s so gross,” she groaned.
“I don’t care,” Draco rolled his eyes, taking a napkin to his mouth. “What issues?”
“Children, housing and veterans. I’ll also get to help Dorcas with women’s issues. I’m so happy…”
“I’m so proud of you. You’ve worked so hard for no money or recognition, this is exactly what you deserve. I may’ve had to knock some sense into your boss if you didn’t get a promotion or pay bump.”
“Well,” Hermione drew out. “They are giving me a raise and end-of-year bonus.”
Draco let out a whoop, sounding far too excited for her. Hermione only felt joy.
“You are incredible, sweetheart! No one deserves this more than you… let’s celebrate tonight.”
“Aren’t you flying out?”
Draco shook his head, grabbing the clunky black office phone on his desk and tapping on a few buttons. “Come here and shut the door behind you.”
That was how Blaise walked in on Hermione sitting on Draco’s lap.
“Really?” Blaise asked, crossing his arms and frowning.
Draco held up a hand to him and, to his credit, the man stopped.
“I need Pansy to change my flight to first thing tomorrow morning. I’m staying here tonight.”
Blaise just stared for a moment, clearly waiting to see if Draco would offer anymore information. Hermione felt singularly uncomfortable and wanted to hide under Draco’s desk.
“Is there a problem?” Draco asked next, and Hermione didn’t need to look at him to know that he had a brow raised and a stern expression on his face. In those moments, he looked exactly like his father.
“I’ll inform Pansy of the change now.” Blaise replied, only opening the door to a sliver before slipping through the small crack.
“That was uncomfortable,” Hermione replied in the silence of the room. She hated the idea that she caused a rift in the men’s relationship.
“Sometimes Blaise forgets that he’s also my employee,” Draco replied, dropping his chin on Hermione’s shoulder.
“Friend and staff make for murky waters,” Hermione agreed. She and Blaise had a fine relationship; she knew he was wary of her, and he also knew that his wife loved Hermione and that Draco cared enough about her to dangerously skirt many societal and congressional norms. That mutual understanding of caring for Draco was the closest that they could come to a truce right now.
“Amen… now, how do you want to celebrate? What do you want to eat?”
“I can’t decide if food or money is your primary love language.”
“Money buys food,” Draco replied. She could feel him smiling into her shoulder even though she wasn’t looking. “That’s not an answer, though… what are we eating?”
“Well,” Hermione replied thoughtfully. “We used to go to Pike Place Market and get seafood on special occasions… would you be terribly opposed to lobster linguine with vodka cream sauce? I’ve been craving it for a while.”
“Done,” Draco replied, pressing a kiss to her head. “I’ll meet you at the corner of C and New Jersey at 5:30, then we can just walk to Whole Foods. I’m assuming your friend Joe doesn’t have lobster.”
Hermione laughed, “I don’t know what you have against Trader Joe’s, but no, they do not sell lobster.”
“Figures,” Draco muttered.
They’d stopped at Trader Joe’s last Sunday after her friend Mandy, a staff assistant for another democrat, texted her that all of their holiday items were out. Hermione, ever the peppermint fan, wanted to grab the foaming hand soap before it was sold out.
Hermione had warned him how small the basement-level Capitol Hill Trader Joe’s was as well as how crowded it’d be on a Sunday night after a holiday, but he insisted on coming anyways. She was not surprised when he complained the entire time.
“I need to go back to my office before they rescind my promotion,” Hermione sighed. “Thank you for lunch.”
“I’m so proud of you,” Draco said before kissing her on the lips. Hermione pulled back before Blaise could come in and kill them.
“Thank you,” she beamed. “I’ll see you soon. Text me if you get caught up and I can go to the store alone.”
“Likewise.” Draco kissed the tip of her nose like she was something dainty and precious, and it had her grinning like a fool as she slipped out of his office.
“Hey!” a voice called out through the empty hallway. Pansy. “Why are you making my life harder?”
“Hi,” Hermione grinned, unable to be cowed at her friend’s annoyance.
“You look drunk,” Pansy frowned. She’d clearly just come from the cafeteria since she had a salad in her hands. She’d charmed the gentleman at the premade salad counter to make her a fresh, custom salad every day, which surprised no one.
“Just happy,” Hermone shrugged.
Pansy had the sense to lower her voice, “Orgasm?”
“Pansy!” Hermione squeaked. “At work?”
“That’s sexy. So hot. Know how many times I’ve thought about Theo fucking me on the front desk?”
“Pansy. You are literally in front of your office in the United States Capitol. Please, get it together.”
The girl shrugged. “What’s going on?”
Hermione pulled her over to the side of the hallway, leaning on the wall outside of Draco’s door.
“I got a promotion, a raise and a bonus,” Hermione smiled. Pansy dropped her two phones and salad on the floor as she pulled her into a tight hug.
“Look at you! So it was celebratory sex?”
Leave it to Pansy to ruin the moment. Hermione frowned.
“I’m kidding. I’m so proud of you. Lee is useless and you do half of his job already anyway. Did they fire him?”
“No,” Hermione shook her head. She wasn’t going to tell Pansy the rest until later.
“They should fire him and let me watch. What a waste of taxpayer funds.”
“I’ll tell you more later. Go eat.”
“Love you, sis. So proud of you.” Pansy smiled, bending down gracefully to pick up her blessedly unshattered phones and unopened salad. “I’ll happily change Draco’s flight now, but I’m not going to fight for him to have a window seat.”
Hermione laughed, shaking her head as she walked away. Leave it to Pansy to exact her small victories.
xxx
“This is amazing,” Draco groaned, and Hermione felt herself get a bit wet at the sound. It was like everything Draco did either turned her on or had her melting into a puddle of goo.
“I’ve never made it with lobster,” Hermione smiled. “Too expensive, but I knew it’d be good.”
“This bread too…”
“You’ll be pleased to know that I stole the Carmine’s recipe, so you’re in fact eating a middle-class person’s idea of fancy garlic bread.”
“I don’t even care when it tastes like this. I think my parents would even love this.”
“It’s food,” Hermione frowned. “What is there to be snobby about?”
Draco raised an eyebrow, “Do you really want to know?”
“No. It’s just weird that Members of Congress are so snobby when they portray themselves of, by, and for the people.”
“Name of the game, sweetheart. Just wait until you see father in Timbo boots, jeans and a flannel out on the trail.”
Hermione scrunched her nose, “That even sounds weird.”
“According to Twitter, both of us pull off casual looks extremely well.”
“Yeah?”
Draco nodded, “Absolutely.”
“I can agree on one count,” Hermione smiled, moving to clean up after dinner. Draco was always surprised by how meticulously she cleaned while she cooked, so she only had to throw their plates in the dishwasher.
Draco walked up behind her, pressing a kiss to her neck. She loved when he was so turned on by their conversations that he couldn’t help but touch her. Her boyfriend was someone who was always composed and sure of himself, so seeing him out of control at what came out of her mouth was overwhelming.
Hermione turned around, wrapping her arms around his neck and jumping into his arms. Her dress bunched up around the top of her thighs at that, and Draco used one practiced hand to pull it up over her butt.
“Draco!” Hermione laughed, the sound turning into a moan as two fingers rubbed up against her pantyhose-covered slit. She pushed against them, letting out a whimper at the friction.
“Did you think our celebration was over, sweetheart?” Draco asked in a husky voice that showed she wasn’t the only one affected by the digits pressing at her covered core.
She shook her head, latching her lips onto his neck. Knowing not to leave a hickey, she lapped at his soft skin without any real motive in mind but to have his taste in her mouth.
“Fuck,” Draco groaned as Hermione’s wetness leaked through the tights. She paused for a moment, shocked at the rare expletive, but resumed her neck kisses as he strode out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He kept up his touching, proving to be an impressive multitasker, until he dropped her on his bed looming over her with his arms caging her on the bed while he stood over her. “Need you naked now, sweetheart.”
Hermione was quick to obey, especially when he used that voice. Letting out a frustrated sigh as her hair got tangled in her attempts to suavely pull her dress overhead without unzipping it, Draco let out a fond laugh and helped her out.
“There she is,” Draco smirked, drawing a blush from Hermione as she undid her bra and sat back down to take her tights off. The last thing she needed was to bash her head open on Draco’s bedside table trying to look sexy.
“Shirt off,” Hermione asked, drawing a sharp look from Draco.
“Do you make the rules, sweetheart?” he asked, leaning over with his shirt still on to trail kisses down her chest.
“Please,” she whined, wanting to feel Draco’s skin against her own.
“I don’t think so,” he murmured, licking around her right nipple but ignoring the stiff, straining bud.
“Draco!”
“So pretty,” the older man crooned, giving her other breast the same unfair treatment.
Hermione strained her chest up, but Draco continued to tease his tongue anywhere but where she wanted it while his hands remained planted on the fluffy duvet. A woman of action, Hermione reached a hand to the back of his head, hoping to guide his head herself.
The outcome was far worse than she’d hoped; Draco stood up entirely, looking down at her with a stern, yet lust-filled expression.
“You trying to boss me around, sugar?” Draco asked, sounding far too amused as he slowly lifted his shirt off and revealed a body that was far too chiseled for anyone with the title congressman outside of a porno.
Hermione took a breath, tipping her head back and inadvertently arching her back as she tried to get herself under control. She was always logical, always rational, always in charge. But for some reason she’d never be able to articulate, laying here at Draco’s mercy felt so good.
“Please,” she whispered, thinking that she was going to have to provide herself the relief she so desperately needed. Wasn’t this supposed to be a celebration?
“Please what?” he asked.
“Please, Draco,” she tried.
He placed his hands back on the bed, trailing his perfectly pointy nose down her throat.
“Please what?” he repeated.
She covered her face with her hands, warring between embarrassment and arousal.
“Please touch me,” she whispered, cursing herself when she knew exactly what he’d ask next. He was nothing if not predictable in his teasing.
“What’s that, sweetheart? Couldn’t hear you behind your hands,” Draco replied, flicking his tongue out to lick her nipple.
Wrenching her hands from her face, she opened her eyes and looked directly into his own molten grey ones. With a strength she didn’t know she had, she fought down the urge to grab his face and shake it.
“Touch me! Please.”
Two fingers pushed into her core, and Hermione immediately moved herself in time with his thrusts.
She’d be impressed later over the way she reached a steady hand out towards him, fumbling with his belt but getting it undone. Without any protest from Draco for the first time in her young life. Hallelujah, heaven above.
It was impossible to keep breathing steadily, not with Draco’s hand pistoning in and out of her and the knowledge that she’d finally be able to touch him.
She fumbled for a moment with unsteady hands and Draco being a bit further away than she’d like, but eventually had his pants down to the top of his thighs. The image in front of her would leave even the most stone cold person breathless; his bulge was straining in his tight boxer shorts, a wet patch clear for all to see through the grey fabric. He was so, so hot, and he was hers.
Feeling like a cavewoman seeing the magnificence of fire for the first time, Hermione let out a soft noise as she reached towards him. Draco’s mouth continued to lick her body, like he was leaving secret patterns only he could understand on her skin. It was hot and it was a bit weird, the way that she even felt aroused at the way he was leaving hot traces on her hips and her belly button.
“Draco, stop,” she got out. “Want to touch you…”
“Then touch me,” he replied, voice low as he climbed onto the bed and flipped them over so she was on top of him again. They were positioned just like they were a few weeks before, only this time, he didn’t stop her as she lifted herself up to pull his underwear down.
Draco snorted at the way she hopped off his lap for a second to look at him, the student in her ever present. His erection was the biggest thing she’d ever seen, honestly. It was pretty, none of the weird mushroom heads or boomerang shapes or scary veins that Pansy always complained about. She honestly would’ve been surprised if Draco had something seriously wrong with his dick; he didn’t strike her as a man with any physical faults whatsoever.
“It looks nice,” she said honestly, reaching a hand out to tentatively touch it. She had to smile, thinking about how she felt like a kid reaching out to touch a toad and recoiling the moment they felt its bumpy, somewhat slimy skin. But when she stroked her thumb over the head of Draco’s cock, smearing the wetness of his pre-cum, she didn’t let go. Her fingers gingerly explored, sliding down the length of his cock and back up again. He was hard and hot but his skin felt smooth like silk, and she didn’t want to let go. It’d been months of dancing around this, and she was done waiting.
“What do I do?”
“Whatever you want,” he said, voice strained. “Want me to make you feel good, sweetheart?”
“Please,” she repeated for what had to be the millionth time.
He patted his lap after scooting back against the bed frame, and she immediately crawled towards him and tried not to think of every metaphor that could be used for the action.
It was heady, being naked with Draco for the first time, but every thought vanished as he pulled her over his dick so it was sliding over her wet folds. If she thought working herself over him through panties and sweats was pleasurable, she was kidding herself. The feeling of Draco’s hot dick against her core was almost more than she could bear, especially as the thought of how easy it would be for him to slip right in.
He guided her movements as he had the last time, showing her how to roll her hips as she slid against him to generate just the right amount of friction. Frantic little noises slipped from her mouth with each movement as she clung to him, wanting to be as close to him as she could possibly get. His lips were everywhere - her mouth, her cheeks, her neck - and Draco kept murmuring words of praise, telling her how hot she was. How good she was. How perfect she was.
With his dick ramming into her clit and her chest pressed tightly to his and the knowledge that Draco was the one making her feel this good, she came. Hermione felt her orgasm roll through her, and all she could do was bite his shoulder as Draco sped up until he let out a groan of his own to signify his release. Hoping that it may help bring Draco pleasure, because didn’t Pansy say tight is good? She squeezed her core as he glided through the increasing wetness of her folds.
“Shit, sugar,” Draco panted. “You are so sexy.”
Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at that, realizing that her toes were curled up from where her shins rested on the bed. Was that why they called it toe curling pleasure?
“Did you feel good?” she asked quietly, rubbing her sweaty cheekbone against his equally sweaty shoulder.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” Draco replied, kissing her head with a bit of a breathless laugh. “I felt good.”
Hermione smiled, feeling like the night’s celebration could now be considered a smash-hit success.
“Let me clean us up,” Draco said, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead like she was something precious that should be treasured. She liked it, though, and was smiling lazily when he got back. Draco’s growing grin was similarly amused. “You feeling good yourself, sweetheart?”
She nodded, letting out a small whine as he ran the cloth between her legs, but didn’t stop him. Like any woman, she knew the pains of UTIs and infections, and if this annoying, unsexy act kept her pain-free… she’d suffer through it.
“That was nice. It was… fun. And sexy. I just thought it was special, you know?”
Draco, forever a neat freak, took the cloth back into the bathroom before finally crawling back in the bed. She was a little surprised to see how clean the duvet was, but then again, all of the action had happened on top of him. No major spillage to report.
“I’m so glad you enjoyed it… it was special for me too,” he replied honestly, pulling Hermione tightly to his side once he was back on the bed. And wasn’t that weird? The way he’d gone from buttoned up to naked in a flash?
“Did you like it?” she asked, voice more tentative than she would’ve hoped.
“I did,” Draco replied. “I love your voice and hearing you call out for me was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. Remember when I said I want to lock you up here? Now I think I’m gonna have to…”
She laughed, “If you’re still planning to stay here with me… I won’t complain.”
“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart. Sounds like a plan.”