Chapter 4
A few days later, Hermione found herself standing outside a quaint Muggle restaurant tucked away in a narrow street in London. She had suggested the place to Draco, wanting to escape the scrutiny of the wizarding world, even if just for a little while.
The restaurant had a warm, inviting atmosphere, with the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. As she stepped inside, she was met with the cheerful buzz of conversation, laughter, and clinking dishes.
Just moments later, she spotted Draco, already seated at a cozy table in the corner, looking slightly out of place in the casual environment. He wore a crisp white shirt under a dark blazer, his usual refined elegance contrasting with the laid-back vibe of the restaurant.
“Granger,” he greeted, standing as she approached. His expression was a mix of curiosity and amusement, as if he were half-expecting her to turn on her heel and walk away at any moment.
“Malfoy,” she replied with a smirk, taking her seat across from him. “I see you decided to embrace the Muggle lifestyle.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You mean pretending to enjoy eating without magic?”
She chuckled, scanning the menu. “It’s not so bad, really. And the food here is fantastic.”
After they placed their orders, a comfortable silence fell between them, filled with the distant hum of conversation.
“So, how does it feel to finally be in a Muggle establishment without the threat of being hexed?” Draco asked, leaning back in his chair, a teasing smile on his lips.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “I can’t imagine what you’re talking about. You’re the one who’s always got that ‘look’ about you, like you might just summon a house-elf at any moment.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll try to contain my magic. But tell me, how have things been since our last chat?”
Hermione took a sip of her water, contemplating how to frame her response. “Busy, as usual. The house-elf rights proposal is moving forward, and I’m trying to organize the next steps for our charity.”
Draco nodded, genuine interest flickering in his eyes. “I’ve heard. You’re making quite an impact. I respect that.”
“Thank you,” she replied, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “It’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it if we can make a difference.”
Their food arrived, and they both paused to admire the colorful dishes. As they dug in, the conversation flowed easily, drifting from her work to their favorite books, Muggle culture, and even their childhood experiences.
“I still can’t believe you were a Gryffindor,” Draco teased, his eyes glinting with mischief. “How did you survive all those years with Weasley and Potter?”
Hermione laughed, shaking her head. “It wasn’t easy, but they had their moments. Besides, I think you’d be surprised how well we got along when it mattered.”
Draco shrugged, a smirk lingering on his lips. “Maybe I underestimated you all.”
Hermione arched an eyebrow, challenging him. “Underestimated? You mean you thought we were all a bunch of bumbling fools?”
“Not all of you,” he replied, leaning forward slightly. “You always stood out, Granger. I’ve always known that.”
Her heart skipped a beat at his words. “Well, that’s surprising to hear.”
“I’m full of surprises,” he said with a playful smirk, taking a sip of his drink. “And now, I suppose you want to know more about me?”
“Actually, I’m just curious what you were like before Hogwarts,” Hermione said. “What was little Draco Malfoy like?”
Draco smirked. “You’d be disappointed. I was the same arrogant little brat, just with a different hairstyle.”
“I find that hard to believe,” she replied, crossing her arms. “You must have had some redeeming qualities.”
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I had my moments, but they were few and far between. My parents had their expectations, and I fell into that role, just like so many others.”
“Did you ever want to break free from that?” Hermione asked, genuinely curious.
Draco paused, his gaze turning contemplative. “Sometimes. But it’s not easy to step outside of what you’ve known. It takes courage.”
“I understand,” she said softly. “Change can be terrifying.”
“Especially when you’ve built your entire identity around a certain image,” he replied, his voice low.
They shared a moment of understanding, the conversation deepening. It was refreshing to see this side of Draco—thoughtful and introspective.
As they finished their meal, Hermione felt a sense of ease and connection growing between them.
“I’m glad we did this,” she admitted, placing her fork down. “It’s nice to talk without all the pressures of our lives.”
Draco met her gaze, a genuine smile softening his features. “I agree. It’s… nice.”
But as they prepared to leave, Hermione couldn’t shake the feeling that this lunch had changed something between them. It was as if they were standing on the edge of a precipice, and she couldn’t help but wonder just how deep the leap would go.
As Hermione and Draco stepped out of the restaurant, they were greeted by a sudden downpour. The rain fell heavily, transforming the streets into a blur of gray and waterlogged pavement.
“Of course it would rain,” Hermione said, pulling her coat tighter around her as she glanced up at the darkening sky. “What now?”
Draco glanced around, his expression contemplative. “We could wait it out here or—” he paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “we could find a nearby hotel and stay until it lets up.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow. “You want to spend more time together, is that it?”
He shrugged, a nonchalant smile on his face. “Maybe I just don’t want to get soaked.”
After a moment of deliberation, they made their way to a small, charming Muggle hotel just a block away. The lobby was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the chill outside. After checking in, they were led to their room, and as the door swung open, Hermione’s heart sank.
The room was beautifully furnished, but there was only one bed.
“Seriously?” she exclaimed, stepping inside and glancing around. “What are the odds?”
Draco chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “Well, it’s not like we can control the weather, Granger.”
She shot him a skeptical look. “This is ridiculous. I can’t share a bed with you.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to bite,” he said, his smirk growing. “I’ll take the sofa.”
“Good idea,” she replied, grateful for the temporary solution. “Let me just—”
Hermione turned to grab her bag from the small table by the door, but Draco stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.
“Hermione,” he said softly, his tone suddenly serious. “We’re not kids anymore. I’m not going to make this weird.”
She met his gaze, feeling a flutter of unease in her stomach. “I know, but still… it’s just strange.”
“Stranger things have happened, and we’ve both been through worse,” he reminded her, releasing her arm.
“True.”
With a resigned sigh, she glanced at the sofa, which looked surprisingly comfortable. “Alright, but I’ll be awake for a while if you need anything.”
“Right.” He smirked again. “I’m sure you’ll be fine with your one thousand books.”
Hermione rolled her eyes, but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Let me grab my book from my bag.”
Draco moved to the sofa, settling in and pulling out his own book, while Hermione dug through her bag to find a novel she had recently started.
As the rain drummed against the windows, they both settled into a comfortable silence, reading for a while. But as the hours passed, the atmosphere shifted. The sound of the rain created a cozy cocoon around them, and Hermione felt a sense of calm enveloping her.
Draco looked over at her, his expression softening. “You know, I didn’t think this would turn out to be such a nice day.”
Hermione glanced up from her book, a small smile on her lips. “It’s been surprisingly pleasant, hasn’t it?”
“Considering we’re stuck here?” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “Definitely.”
She turned her attention back to her novel, but the words began to blur as her thoughts drifted. What had started as a simple lunch had turned into something much deeper, and sitting there with him felt strangely comfortable—almost intimate.
As the night wore on, the storm outside began to soften, but the connection between them seemed to deepen, as if the rain had washed away the boundaries that once separated them.
“Do you ever think about the past?” Draco asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
Hermione glanced up, surprised. “What do you mean?”
“Everything—the war, our families, all of it.” His tone was contemplative, and he looked far away. “Do you ever regret anything?”
Hermione hesitated. “Sometimes. But I think it’s important to learn from it. We can’t let it define us.”
Draco nodded, his gaze steady on her. “You’ve changed a lot, Hermione.”
She smiled faintly. “So have you.”
And as they settled into the quiet, warm atmosphere of the room, the rain gently pattering against the window, Hermione realized they were both on the cusp of something new—something that neither of them could quite understand yet, but that both of them were willing to explore.
As the rain continued to patter against the window, Draco shifted on the sofa, an idea seeming to strike him. “You know, I think we should drink some wine,” he suggested, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I can’t let you read in silence all night.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Wine? Here? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Why not? We’re in a hotel, away from prying eyes, and it’s just a bit of fun.” He stood, heading toward the small bar in the corner of the room. “I’ll call down and order some.”
“Alright,” she said, her heart racing slightly. “But just one glass.”
After he placed the order, they settled back into a comfortable silence. Moments later, there was a knock at the door, and Draco answered it, retrieving a bottle of wine and two glasses from the room service attendant.
Once he poured them each a glass, he handed one to Hermione, and they both took a moment to appreciate the rich, dark color of the wine before raising their glasses.
“To unexpected afternoons,” Draco said, his gaze lingering on hers.
“To unexpected friendships,” Hermione replied, her heart fluttering at the unspoken tension in the air.
They took sips, the wine warming her from the inside, and after a few moments of silence, Draco spoke again. “You know, I’ve been thinking about our time at Hogwarts.”
“Oh?” Hermione set her glass down, turning to face him fully. “What about it?”
He hesitated, a shadow crossing his face. “About how I treated you. The things I said…” He looked genuinely remorseful. “I was an arrogant prick. I know that now.”
Hermione felt a swell of emotion in her chest. “Draco, we were all young and foolish. It was a different time.”
“Still, that doesn’t excuse how I acted. I was raised to believe certain things, and I let that define me. I shouldn’t have treated you like you were less than anyone else.” His voice was low, filled with sincerity.
She could see the conflict in his eyes, the genuine regret as he reflected on his past. “You’ve changed, though. You’re not that same person anymore.”
“Have I?” He looked deeply into her eyes, as if searching for something. “Do you really think I’ve changed?”
“Yes,” she replied, her voice soft. “You have. I see it every time we talk.”
There was a heavy silence between them as Draco processed her words, and Hermione felt her heart race. It was as if a barrier had been broken between them, allowing for honesty and vulnerability to seep into the conversation.
“Thank you for that,” he said finally, his gaze still locked on hers. “It means a lot to hear it from you.”
Just then, the tension shifted, thickening the air between them. Hermione’s breath quickened as she leaned closer, feeling an undeniable pull toward him. Draco’s expression softened, and before she knew it, he was reaching out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Hermione,” he murmured, his voice low and intense, “I—”
But she didn’t let him finish. Instead, she closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his in a sudden rush of emotion.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if they were both unsure of what it meant. But as the initial hesitation melted away, it quickly deepened. Draco’s hand found her waist, pulling her closer as she tangled her fingers in his hair, losing herself in the moment.
Draco's lips moved against hers with a hunger that surprised her, his tongue sliding along the seam of her mouth, demanding entrance. She parted her lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss, their tongues dancing and intertwining.
Hermione's hands roamed over his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. Draco's hands gripped her hips, pulling her onto his lap so she was straddling him. She could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against her core, sending a shiver of desire through her.
Breaking the kiss, Draco trailed his lips along her jaw and down her neck, sucking and biting gently. Hermione tilted her head back, giving him better access as she ground herself against him, seeking friction.
"Draco," she gasped, her voice breathy with need. "We shouldn't—"
"Shh," he murmured against her skin, his hands sliding up her sides to cup her breasts.
Draco's fingers deftly unbuttoned Hermione's blouse, pushing it off her shoulders to reveal her lacy bra. He groaned at the sight of her, his thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples through the thin fabric. Hermione arched into his touch, her own hands tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers.
"You're so beautiful," Draco breathed, his lips returning to hers in a searing kiss. He unhooked her bra with a flick of his fingers, tossing it aside before lowering his head to capture one of her nipples in his mouth.
"Oh, God," Hermione cried out, her fingers threading through his hair as he sucked and teased the sensitive bud. His other hand rolled and pinched her neglected nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core. "Draco, please," she begged, writhing on his lap. "I need more."
Draco's hands slid down to Hermione's hips, lifting her slightly as he unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down her legs along with her panties. She kicked them off, leaving her bare before him. Draco took a moment to admire her, his gaze heated as it roamed over her naked form.
"Fuck, Hermione," he growled, his hands gripping her thighs. "You have no idea how many times I've imagined this."
He lifted her easily, positioning her over his arousal, which strained against his pants. Hermione reached between them, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly, freeing his hard length.
"Then show me," she challenged, her eyes locking with his. "Show me everything you've imagined." Draco didn't need to be told twice.He guided her down, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance.
Draco's grip tightened on Hermione's hips as he slowly lowered her onto his length, a low groan escaping his lips as her tight heat enveloped him. Hermione gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to his size. Once he was fully sheathed inside her, Draco paused, giving her a moment to acclimate.
"You feel incredible," he murmured, his voice strained with barely contained desire. "So fucking perfect."
He began to move then, lifting her up and down his shaft in a slow, steady rhythm. Hermione matched his pace, her hips rolling in time with his thrusts. The sensation of being filled and stretched by him was exquisite, and she couldn't help but moan loudly.
"Harder, Draco," she urged, her head falling back in ecstasy. "Fuck me harder."
Draco obliged, his hips snapping up to meet hers with increased fervor. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with their labored breaths and moans of pleasure. Hermione clung to him, her fingers digging into his back as he drove into her relentlessly. The pleasure was overwhelming, building with each thrust until she was teetering on the edge of oblivion.
"Draco!" she cried out, her inner walls clamping down around him as her orgasm crashed over her. "I'm coming!" Draco continued to pound into her, prolonging her climax, his own release imminent. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her and stilled, his hot seed spilling into her depths.
"Fuck, Hermione," he groaned, his forehead resting against hers as they both caught their breath.
"That was..." He trailed off, at a loss for words.
Hermione collapsed against Draco's chest, her body trembling with the aftermath of her intense orgasm. Draco wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they both struggled to regain their composure.
"That was incredible," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You're incredible." Hermione smiled, snuggling into his warmth. She couldn't believe what had just happened. There was something undeniably right about being in Draco's arms, about the connection they shared.
The next morning, Hermione woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside the window. She blinked, momentarily disoriented, until the memories of the previous night came flooding back. She turned her head to see Draco sleeping peacefully beside her, his arm draped possessively over her waist. Panic began to set in as she realized the gravity of what they had done. She carefully extracted herself from his embrace, grabbing her clothes and dressing quickly in the bathroom. When she emerged, Draco was awake, watching her with a sleepy smile.
"Morning," he murmured, reaching for her. But Hermione stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Draco, about last night..." she began, her voice trembling slightly. "It was a mistake. A huge mistake."
His smile faltered, confusion etched on his face. "What? Why?"
Hermione took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she had to say.
"Because you're married, Draco," Hermione said bluntly, her eyes filling with tears. "I can't believe I let this happen. I'm so ashamed."
Draco's expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he sat up in bed. "Don't you dare put this on yourself," he growled.
"I'm the one who's married. I'm the one who cheated. You didn't do anything wrong."
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his movements. "Fuck, Hermione. I never meant for this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you."
She shook her head, backing away from him. "But what we did was wrong, Draco. You betrayed your wife. And I...I betrayed my own morals by sleeping with a married man."
Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she wiped them away angrily. "I can't do this."
Hermione turned and fled the room, grabbing her belongings as she went. Draco called after her, but she didn't stop, didn't look back. She rushed through the hotel lobby, ignoring the curious stares of the other guests. Once outside, she hailed a taxi and climbed in, giving the driver her address. As the car pulled away from the curb, she let the tears fall freely, her heart aching with a mixture of guilt, shame, and regret.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she muttered to herself, pounding her fist against her thigh."How could I have been so foolish?" The taxi ride home was a blur, and before she knew it, she was standing in her apartment, the door slamming shut behind her. She leaned against it, sliding to the floor as sobs wracked her body. She had crossed a line, and there was no going back.
Hermione sank into her favorite armchair, her heart still racing from the events of the past few days. The soft light of the evening filtered through the window, casting a warm glow in the room, but she felt anything but warm inside.
The kiss with Draco played over and over in her mind, a sweet yet haunting memory that sent conflicting emotions coursing through her. She had never expected to feel that way about him—never anticipated that beneath the layers of history, rivalry, and their newfound friendship, there could be such a powerful connection.
But as the initial thrill began to fade, the weight of reality pressed down on her. He was married. He had a four-year-old son. Astoria was kind and welcoming, always treating her with respect and generosity, and Hermione couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal that hung in the air like a dark cloud.
“Why did I let it happen?” she murmured to herself, running a hand through her hair. “I should have known better.”
The memories of their time together at the hotel came rushing back, filling her with both warmth and shame. They had shared laughter, vulnerable moments, and an intimacy that felt almost forbidden. But now, as she sat alone in her flat, the reality of the situation crashed over her like a cold wave.
Hermione stood up abruptly, pacing the room as she fought against the feelings swirling within her. The guilt gnawed at her insides. How could she have let herself cross that line?
And yet… a small part of her couldn’t help but remember the way Draco had looked at her, the sincerity in his eyes when he spoke of change and regret. That connection had been real, hadn’t it?
“No,” she whispered fiercely, shaking her head. “I can’t do this.”
She couldn’t afford to entertain thoughts of what could have been, not when there were so many consequences to consider. The innocent moments they had shared were overshadowed by the reality of their lives—his commitments, his family, her principles.
As she reached for her wand, her heart raced. She needed to take control of the situation, to ensure that the lines they had crossed wouldn’t lead to further complications. With steady hands, she brewed a contraceptive potion, focusing intently on the task at hand.
The familiar motions calmed her slightly, grounding her amidst the chaos of her thoughts. The potion shimmered softly in the vial, a reminder of her resolve. This was a necessary step, a way to ensure that whatever fleeting moment they had shared wouldn’t lead to something more permanent, something she wasn’t prepared for.
After the potion cooled, she took a deep breath and swallowed it down, her heart heavy with the decision.
“This isn’t what you wanted, Hermione,” she said softly to herself. “You can’t let this happen.”
The weight of her choices settled heavily on her shoulders, but she knew she had to put the past behind her. She couldn’t allow herself to get lost in the allure of Draco’s charm and the bond they were forming.
As she sat back down in her chair, she pulled her knees to her chest, staring out at the rain-soaked streets below. The world outside continued on, indifferent to her turmoil. She needed to focus on her work, on the cause she had dedicated herself to, and on the people who truly mattered in her life.
And yet, even as she tried to rationalize her feelings, a small, insistent voice in her mind whispered that she was only suppressing what was undeniably real.
But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside, determined to maintain her resolve. Whatever connection she had felt with Draco Malfoy would remain a fleeting moment, a secret tucked away in the corners of her heart. She would not let it define her.