The Edge of Casual

“Draco, duck!” he heard Hermione yell but reacted a split second too late. Whatever was thrown at him crashed into his back, exploded, and pushed him to the ground. He could feel it seeping into his skin through his clothes. It was warm and tingling, it felt like ants were crawling on his skin.

He heard a thud and turned his head to the side as he tried to get up. Hermione had the man up against the cave wall, arm digging into his throat. She looked deadly. She looked ready to kill him.

She looked fucking sexy.

“What is it,” she growled. When the wizard didn’t answer, she whipped out a blade and pressed it gently between two ribs, just enough to draw blood. “What is it?” she yelled.

Draco felt lightheaded. He was struggling to get up but he had to. He had to get to Hermione.

“Lust potion,” the man choked out. “Strong. Experimental. Uses Eel Essence. Unknown side effects.”

Hermione traded her knife for a wand, immobilizing the wizard before turning to Draco, who was effectively dragging himself across the cave floor to get to her. “Hermione,” he breathed. “I need help.”

Something flickered behind her eyes before she said, “I know Malfoy, just stay right there and give me one minute.” Draco stopped moving, but his hands were still reaching for her. His skin was hot, burning up. His thoughts were turning blurry alongside his vision.

Hermione seemed to be casting. With precision, she had gathered a collection of tiny bottles in one spot before casting a patronus. The shape was blurred, but it seemed to be a dragon. “Find Harry Potter, tell him the Eel Essence is here along with an immobilized Stokes, but I have to go. Something’s happened to Draco.” And with that, the creature flew away.

Draco didn’t realize he was panting and pulling at his shirt until Hermione kneeled in front of him, concern in her eyes. “Can I touch you, Draco?” she gently asked. Draco couldn’t help the moan that slipped out from his lips as he furiously nodded, hands reaching for her. His skin was itching with heat, and something felt like it was rippling through his body, from his stomach outwards.

Her hands grabbed his wrists and electricity went through him, causing him to gasp and throw his head back. “Hermione,” he moaned. “What’s happening to me?” He felt her grip on his wrists tighten briefly. Her grip acted like a tether, and he felt that if she stopped touching him he might just drift away.

He fucking had to have her.

“A lust potion,” she said as she pulled him to his feet. Draco felt himself sway, but she was quick to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him into her. Draco wrapped both his arms around Hermione and buried his head in her hair, inhaling. She felt so fucking good in his arms. Right where she belonged. “Draco, we have to go,” she started again, urging him to move. Her hands were gently pushing at him but it only caused his grip around her to tighten.

“Where?” her hair muffled his voice, and his hands began to wander lower, lightly tracing down her spin. He felt her shiver under his touch.

“To my hotel room,” she replied and Draco felt his knees go weak. A noise that wasn’t unlike a growl left his throat. Hermione took that as a sign to apparate to her room at the hotel they’d been staying at during their mission.

Draco keened as they landed, his body pushing up against hers. “Okay, Draco? Draco, I’m going to turn on a cold shower and we’re going to wash this off you.”

“Hermione,” he whispered her name like a prayer. “I need you.”

“I know, I’m right here. Let’s get you in the shower -” Draco slipped to his knees before her, his hands dragging down her sides and landing on her waist. He was gripping her so tightly he was positive there would be bruises in the morning.

“What’s happening to me?” he asked, looking up at her. “Granger, I don’t understand what… Gods, it feels so much better when you touch me. Please, Hermione, I just want… I need to…” lick her whole body? Fuck her until she forgot her name? Mark her skin with love bites? Just watch her before him, naked? All of the above?

She looked distraught. “You’re under the effects of a lust potion, darling,” she said, hands coming up to cup his face. Draco moaned at the contact and leaned into her hands, turning to kiss her palm. His body was tingling, buzzing all over. The fire rushing through him seemed to quell before roaring back to life, more powerful than before. He felt dizzy with what he now knew was lust. “Come on, baby. Can you get in the shower for me? We can wash this off you.”

“Join me,” Draco muttered between his assault of kisses on her palm. “Please, Hermione, viens avec moi, mon amour, I’m on my knees begging you.”

Rarely did Draco find himself slipping languages, but he could feel the edges of his brain fogging, only able to focus on one thing: her.

She tilted his head up so he was looking at her and nodded. Draco stood on shaky legs, using her hips to guide himself into a standing position, and began walking towards her bathroom with Hermione at his back. And fuck did it smell like her. The scent of his Amortia, the scent he’d been dreaming about since their first hookup by the lake. He had to grab the door frame to catch himself from falling (falling over and falling more in love), squeezing until his knuckles went white with his eyes tightly closed.

“Draco,” she whispered and he felt her hand run up his back. He bet she could get him off just from dancing her fingers across his spine with the way he felt right now. He felt the gentle tickle of curls brushing his arm as she ducked under it. He heard the spell she muttered to turn on the shower. He felt her fingers slide gently against the leather of his wand holster and groaned while gritting his teeth. The holster dropped to the floor before her fingers began to undo his shirt buttons. “You can hold onto me if that helps,” she said quietly.

Draco took the opportunity to thread his fingers into her curls and push his forehead against hers, breathing deeply. “Пожалуйста, пожалуйста, пожалуйста,” he whispered in desperation. “I want you so badly.”

She slipped his belt from the loops causing Draco to buck against her hands and groan before she moved to unbutton his pants, “You aren’t in your right mind, love. I won’t take advantage of you.”

Draco felt a tear slip out of his eye and his hands tightened in her hair. He couldn’t imagine not having her. His hands were shaking and his mind was fuzzy when he spoke: “Please,” a whispered plea followed by more tears running down his cheeks. “Hermione, please, you know that I want this. Even before this potion, you know I wanted this. You know how badly I need you. I’m fucking desperate, love.”

“Take off the rest of your clothes and get in the shower,” she said gently. Draco’s eyes flew open with a panicked look.

“Where are you going?” he asked, near hysterics. “Don’t, don’t leave. Tu ne peux pas me quitter. Don’t leave me, Hermione.” If she left he was pretty sure he would simply die.

“Draco, sweetheart, I’ll be right here. I can’t very well get in the shower fully dressed, can I?” she said, trying to make a joke.

His hands were still in her hair, he felt his grip reflexively tighten even more. “I won’t leave you,” he said while brushing his nose down her cheek flowing to her jawbone and moving to the spot on her neck that made her shiver underneath him whenever he licked it. “Please don’t leave me. Be mine. Épouse-moi, stay with me.”

Hermione grabbed his wrists and gently pulled his hands from her hair. Draco drew in a sharp, panicked breath before she began pulling him with her into the large glass shower. The cold water sizzled against his skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off him, but all he could do was stand and stare at her. Her curls were growing damp and her once light gray shirt was quickly turning dark.

“Let me undress you,” Draco said suddenly, desperate to feel her skin under his hands.

“Let me take care of you first,” she said while switching their positions so that, rather than herself, Draco was fully underneath the shower head. She slowly turned him so his back was facing her.

“Putain d'enfer,” he groaned, head falling back.

Careful to keep one hand on the nape of his neck, lightly rubbing, she grabbed a washcloth and muttered a spell so it frothed with soap. She carefully began washing Draco’s back, paying extra attention to the area where the lust potion had seeped into his skin.

Draco was struggling to stand at the sheer intimacy and desire that came with the moment.

He braced his hands against the wall of the shower, trying to steady himself. It was taking everything in him not to grab her, kiss her, and never let her go. He heard the whimpers of her name coming out of his mouth and she moved around his torso and down his legs once, twice, three times over trying to clean off all of the potion.

His knees buckled and he fell to the floor when he felt her lips gently kiss their way down his spine. He couldn’t help but moan her name, shivering from the fire following her lips. “Что ты делаешь со мной?” he gasped out.

He wasn't being sprayed with water anymore. He opened his eyes to see Hermione standing directly in front of him, pulling off her shirt. Draco quickly took the opportunity to unbutton her pants and begin tugging them down her legs, causing her to laugh. “I’m going to wash your hair, love, okay?” She gently pulled his face towards her, and he leaned against her stomach while she poured shampoo into her hands. His hands gripped her waist.

Nothing had ever felt right before, he realized. Touching her felt so right it was impossible that anything else ever had been.

He had to have her. Now, later, forever.

“Fucking Christ, Granger,” he moaned as she began washing his hair, all his thoughts quickly cut off with the light scraping and massaging of his scalp. “Hermione, I don’t know how much of this I can take,” he started honestly, causing her to freeze for only a second before she continued. “I need you, more than you’re willing to give me, and I’m going mad with you touching me. Je suis tellement amoureux de toi, c'est comme une torture de t'avoir ici et de ne pas pouvoir t'avoir. You’re better off just leaving so you don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

Hermione sighed, “I’m not leaving you Draco, I can’t. You’re too important to me,” Draco felt his eyes roll back with pleasure at her words, his grip on her tightened, and his mind began to grow even fuzzier. “Besides, I don’t regret doing anything with you, I just refuse to take advantage of you. Does the shower seem to be helping?”

“It feels worse,” Draco said through gritted teeth, screwing his eyes shut and trying not to focus on how good it felt to be touched by her. She was still washing his hair, making sure to get out every drop of potion. “I love you,” he whispered into her stomach. “Je t'aime, I love you, I love you, Я тебя люблю, I love you.”

He felt his vision slipping, going darker as he began fading from consciousness. He was so desperate to have her, so in love, he felt that his body knew it was safer to shut down than not be able to fuck her.

Not fuck. Make love. He fucking needed it.

He doesn’t remember anything else.

-

The next thing he knew, he was lying down, listening to someone speaking softly. His skin was still burning, itching, and tingling, but there was a calming aspect. Something that had slowed his heart rate and didn’t make the lust quite so unbearable. He felt warm, slow tingles radiating on his cheek and arms, slowly seeping into his body.

He knew that it wouldn’t be long until he was desperate for Hermione again. Hopefully, she’d left when he blacked out and was far, far away. He couldn’t stand the idea of her having any regrets involving him.

Well, any more regrets than he was sure she already had.

As he came to, he realized he was resting on her stomach, hands wrapped possessively around her as she leaned back, speaking softly on the phone to who was presumably Harry Potter. Her fingers ran through his now-dry hair, lightly scraping his scalp before running down his neck and restarting. The electricity that followed her fingers was exhilarating.

“He’s resting now, but I’m sure he’ll wake up soon. I was able to wash everything off, but I think it’s too late. It already seeped into his skin,” she paused. “Yes, that’s fine. Just charge my card for the room and we’ll leave when the effects have worn off. It is interesting, the potion. I read the report. Best this doesn’t go anywhere but straight to the Unspeakables,” another pause. “Harry, I’ll be fine. Malfoy and I… well. It doesn’t matter. I’ll keep him safe. Talk soon, yeah?” and with that, she hung up.

She’d keep him safe.

“What’s so interesting about the potion?” Draco asked, his voice scratchy, while turning his head to face Hermione. If she was surprised he was awake she didn’t show it. Her looking at him made the heat in his stomach burn brighter.

She didn’t answer, just smiled down at him and moved her hand to rub the tension out of his neck. Draco felt his eyes roll back in his head as he moaned. He hadn’t realized he was so tense. Under her touch, he felt like he was melting. “Do you know you switch between languages when you’re really turned on, Draco?” she asked. “French and Russian, I think.”

He nuzzled into her stomach. “Yes,” he replied. “Heightened emotions can cause me to slip up.”

“It’s happened before?” her tone was sharp, and if he didn’t know any better he’d say it was jealous. Draco felt his eyes snap up to hers.

Where she was carefully keeping her emotions in check, he wore his like a kaleidoscope in his eyes. “Yes,” he was desperate to make her understand, even if it took an embarrassing confession. “It happened occasionally during the war. It happened once when I was… I was thinking of you in the shower. It always, always involves you. Have you ever heard your name in Russian, Granger?” she didn’t answer, just cocked an eyebrow. “Гермиона. Моя Гермиона,” he whispered to himself.

Her eyes were still unreadable, but her breathing had gotten heavier. Her hand was still on his neck, which he took as a good sign. “Tell me about the potion,” he said, shifting to get more comfortable. He could feel that familiar ache growing, and if he was going to be on his own soon he at least needed to know more about what he was suffering from.

“It doesn’t create any feelings, just amplifies what’s already there to an almost uncontrollable level. Meaning it didn’t create any lust for me, just amped up the lust you already had to new levels. The length is interesting… it lasts until it, well, I don’t know how to say it appropriately but…”

Draco pulled her tighter to him and adjusted so his head was lying above her heart. He felt the gentle thuds against his eardrum, causing him to sigh in contentment. “Touching you,” he began, “Makes my whole body tingle and burn. I think if we had sex right now I would explode.”

He felt Hermione tilt her head and bring her hand to gently brush his hair back. “In a good way?”

“Gods, yes” he muttered. “All I’ve ever wanted was you, Hermione. I feel like it’s slowly killing me not to have you. J'ai l'impression que je vais mourir sans toi.” He didn’t mean to say that, the truth. But it was out there now - nothing he could do about it.

“You’re in luck,” her lips were brushing against her ear, making Draco go ridged and his breathing grow shallow. The burning that was slowly mulling around his body suddenly began to concentrate on one spot: his cock. “The potion will last until you run out the pleasure. Either from yourself or… company.”

“Company,” Draco said, sitting up immediately. His body hissed at the loss of contact with Hermione, but he quickly grabbed her face and pulled it towards him. Her eyes grew slightly bigger, and the light in the room amplified the flecks of gold scattered around her pupils. “I want company, I want you. Help me get through this, hell, get me through this, Hermione. Tu n'imagines pas à quel point j'ai besoin de toi, mon amour. I swear to every god out there that you’ll come so many times you forget your name.”

She smirked and lightly dragged her nails down his back. Draco let out a gasping groan as his eyes rolled back in his head and he almost fell into her. “How about,” she whispered as she gently ran a finger down his chest, lower and lower. Draco suddenly realized he was completely naked. “I make you come so many times you forget your name?” she punctuated her words with a gentle brush of her middle finger down the vein on the underside of cock.

Draco about came in her hand.

The light touch of her finger made stars explode behind his eyes, dimming his view of her. He lifted one hand to tangle in her hair and placed the other on the side of her neck. “I can’t see straight,” he whispered. “Guide me, amour. Utilisez-moi.”

Hermione grabbed onto his wrists, using them to steer him towards the bed and onto his back. “Draco, love,” she called quietly, stroking the insides of his wrists. “I have to take off the rest of my clothes, so I have to stop touching you. Is that okay?”

“Non, non, non” he muttered, gripping her tighter. “J'ai besoin que tu continues à me toucher.”

“I don’t speak French, love,” she said with a soft smile as she gently pulled her hands out of his grasp and began pulling off what little clothes she had on.

He couldn’t help the sob that escaped him at the loss of contact. His mind was immediately fuzzy again, and without her touch, he could feel himself sinking back into the darkness. His hands were reaching for her, scrambling to find her, but she was just out of reach. “Hermione, please,” he sobbed.

He felt her before he saw her. It was impossible not to when she suddenly bracketed his hips and sunk to the hilt of his cock in one fluid motion.

The sheer intensity of finally being inside her had Draco biting down on the pillow behind him to muffle his screams. His hands gripped her waist tightly, forcing her to stay in place for a moment so he could catch his breath.

One of her hands ran through his hair while the other covered his. “I know love, I know. I’m sorry, baby,” she muttered.

“Господи Боже, Гермиона,” he muttered once he’d gathered his bearings.

“I want to be effective about this,” she explained as she gently began rocking her hips. Draco forced his eyes open to look at her. She looked like the fucking sun. His lashes fluttered as he whimpered underneath her. “It just seems like the potion is hurting you, and I hate seeing you hurt darling,” she said, moving a hand to his chest to give herself more leverage.

“Fucking hell Granger,” he said in a shattered whisper. She picked up her pace, forcing Draco’s hands to squeeze her tighter. He was teetering on a dangerous edge, feeling his orgasm building up rapidly but not wanting Hermione to leave this position. “S'il te plaît, mon amour, tu dois arrêter ou je vais venir,” he groaned.

“I don’t speak French,” she whispered back before moaning. “Gods, Draco, you feel so good, baby.” Draco felt himself shudder at her words, the waves of an orgasm about to take over.

Her head was thrown back, making a beautiful waterfall of curls fall behind her. She was stunning. “It feels like we were made to be together, doesn’t it?” she asked in a quiet whisper.

Draco felt himself shatter at her words, coming so hard his vision went black. He pushed a knuckle in his mouth, biting down to help muffle the sounds of his cries. He felt Hermione gently brush at his cheek and realized there were tears running down his face.

She really was golden.

And she was no longer sitting on his cock, which was still hard and he didn’t understand how. He whimpered at the loss of contact but quickly groaned when he felt a different kind of warmth.

His vision finally began to clear to the view of Hermione’s lips wrapped around him, tongue gently swirling around the head of cock before dipping down to like up the vein on the underside of his shaft, his come gathering on her tongue. Her thumbs were gently brushing against his V-line as she smirked up at him, swallowing.

“Putain, Hermione, ta bouche est un miracle.” Draco’s fingers spasmed. He was shaking but wasn’t sure how to stop it. Hermione was still licking him clean, but her eyes were rapidly shifting between his face and his hands. Her hand, sure and steady, grabbed one of his hands and moved it to cup her cheek before placing the other one in her hair.

The shaking immediately lessened - not gone, but not nearly as bad - as he gripped her like she was the only thing holding him to earth. He was sure she was. Hermione licked her lips as she pulled away from him, just far enough that her breath still tickled the head of his cock, causing it to jerk towards her, as she spoke.

“The more you touch me, the easier it is, right?” she asked, her thumbs back rubbing patterns against his V-line and it was driving him mad. “Draco, love, I need you to answer me.”

“Yes,” he choked out. “Yes, Hermione, please, touch me.”

“So the best ways, for us to fuck would be…” she moved forward, lips brushing against him as she spoke.

“Трахни меня,” Draco groaned, feeling like he was being driven crazy between her lips and her thumbs. “Было бы лучше, если бы мы поженились.”

Hermione tutted at him. “I don’t speak French or Russian, darling,” she whispered, kissing the weeping head of his cock and flicking her tongue to lightly brush against his slit.

His orgasm came hard, fast, and unexpectedly considering she had barely been touching him. He came calling out her name, his hands moving from her as they spasmed in time with his cock.

She had pulled away from him suddenly, causing Draco to cry out. He was once again slipping into darkness. He could feel his panic beginning to build. “Don’t leave me, amour,” he was scrambling to find her but was having trouble sitting up.

How was he still hard?

“I’m not leaving you, Draco,” Hermione whispered in his ear as her weight settled on top of him. “I won’t leave you darling, not now, not ever.”

Draco felt his heart stutter. He felt her hands on his chest and his vision slowly began coming back. She was grasping his wrists, holding his hands to her neck while straddling his hips, grinding against him. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, and he felt her pulse flutter under his fingers.

“Now that I understood,” she said with a smirk. “Here’s my plan. I’m going to ride you until I feel like I can’t anymore, and hopefully, we can get you to come enough times you begin to feel back to normal. Is that alright, love?” she was already sinking down on his cock, Draco felt his eyes roll back.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Hermione, je suis amoureux de toi.”

She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and began pulling him towards her. Draco forced himself to sit up, which was much easier with her on top of him, his hands moving from her neck to wrap around her waist as she bounced on top of him.

With so much of them touching, Draco was feeling almost back to normal. With the exception of the fact that he was already close to finishing and it had been a minute and a half. Hermione had one hand on his shoulder and used the other to pull his head towards her so she could whisper in his ear.

“You feel so fucking good, Draco,” she said with a moan. “Just the way I like it.”

And apparently, Hermione Granger whispering in his ear while bouncing on his dick was all it took to reduce him to a teenage boy, coming within a couple of minutes. His teeth latched onto her shoulder as he came, his only tether being her nails scratching up his back.

Draco expected her to stop and give him a second, but instead, she continued to ride him. He was sensitive and overstimulated, each movement of hers made a shiver course through his spine. He was whimpering, keening, desperate, and couldn’t tell if he was chanting her name out loud or in his head.

“Ah, s'il te plaît, Hermione, Hermione, Hermione, je... je... s'il te plaît,” he felt himself saying, his arms shakily pulling tighter around her waist. “Ты мне нужен.”

She didn’t ask him to translate, instead, she was gasping his name. “Draco,” she whispered, lips brushing against his ear causing his hips to jut against her. “I’m going to come and I want you to come with me, how can I get you there?”

“Fuck,” he grit through his teeth, burying his face in her neck. “Say my name.”

Her breathy moans quickly slipped into breathy cries for him. “Draco, Draco, Draco,” she chanted. “Gods, Draco, every time I fuck you I think it can’t get better and it does.”

Draco choked back a moan, roughly gripping her back to pull her impossibly closer to him. “Fucking Christ, Granger,” he whimpered, still feeling overly sensitive.

He could hear her telltale signs of orgasm, the gasping breaths, and the breathless calls for him. Her nails were digging into his shoulders.

Whether she pushed, he pulled, or both, they were falling backward as they both came, their gasps and moans filling the air, his name on her lips, hers on his. She looked up at him with those beautiful brown eyes as if she was trying to read him, to see if he broke through the haze.

“Je t'aime” he whispered to her. She shook her head with a smile.

“I don’t speak French,” she whispered. Slowly peeling away from his chest to sit back up. “We’ll go again. Your eyes are still hazy.”

Draco ran his hands over her sides causing her to shiver. He looked down to where their bodies met, watching their come drip out of her even though she was stuff full of him, his cock and pubic bone slick and glistening. “You don’t have to stay,” he said quietly, even though it killed him.

She caught his chin in her hands, forcing him to look at her. Her hips were already moving against him, sliding with ease and creating a wet sound, causing Draco to cry out. “What did I say, love? I’m not leaving you.”

“Hermione, je suis si sensible,” his voice broke. She raised a brow in question. “Sensible, sensitive, sensible.”

“Ah,” she said but didn’t let up. Her hips began to move faster. “Then you’ll come quickly, won’t you love?”

Draco groaned, savoring the feeling of her cunt clenching around him with his head thrown back. “What’s your name?” he heard her ask.

“What?” he breathed out, unsure what she was getting at.

“What’s your name?” she repeated, stilling and forcing him to look up at her.

“I… I…” his brain was stalling. Between his post-orgasmic haze and the feeling of her clenching around his cock, he felt like was short-circuiting. “I don’t remember.”

Hermione smiled at him and began riding him again, harder and faster. “That’s what I thought.”

What happened next, Draco didn’t know. Between Hermione bouncing on his cock, how sensitive he was from four prior orgasms and the overwhelming amount of lust and love he felt, he blacked out. The last thing he remembered was calling out her name.

-

For the second time that day, Draco awoke lying on Hermione’s stomach. His grip tightened around her immediately, he could feel love, possession, lust, and longing rushing through his veins in place of blood. She let out a small laugh but continued running her hands on him, one lightly up and down his back, the other through his hair.

“Hi love,” she whispered. “How do you feel?”

Draco looked up at her, feeling fully himself but utterly exhausted. How he felt for her had returned to normal levels. “What happened?” he croaked out.

She stopped scratching his back to hand him a bottle of water. He refused to take it, knowing grabbing it meant letting go of her. “Come on, love, let’s reposition,” she said.

Love.

Under her guidance, he moved to sit up, back against the headboard. He quickly grabbed her waist and pulled her into his side while grabbing her legs and pulling them over his lap before chugging the bottle of water.

“What happened?” he asked again.

She grabbed his hand and lightly ran her nails up his palm before intertwining their fingers, her thumb running up and down his pointer finger. “Well,” she started, taking a deep breath. “Your fifth orgasm ended with a sort of… explosion of magic. You were conscious still and asked - begged - to keep going, so we did. You were speaking only French and Russian, so I figured we were close to the end. You ended up coming another five or six times,” she let out a quiet laugh. “I’m impressed you’re able to move. I kept my promise you know. You forgot your own name.”

Draco kissed her hand with a laugh. “Then what?”

“And then… then you were babbling, not saying anything, really, a mix of Russian, English, and French. I was able to convince you to lay down by promising I wouldn’t leave you and I would be touching you at all times - something about your vision? - and I rubbed all the knots out of your muscles so you wouldn’t be sore. You fell asleep, I laid next to you. The second I laid down, you moved to how you were when you woke up. Now that you’re awake… do you want me to heal you?”

Draco looked down, noticing the scratch marks across his torso and arms. He could only imagine what his back looked like.

“No,” he said, knowing he would savor the feeling of being marked by her. “Do you want me to heal you?” He looked over her, noting the bite marks, scratches, and finger-sized bruises that marked her skin.

She smiled. “No.”

Draco leaned down to nuzzle Hermione’s neck. “You took care of me.”

“I did,” she whispered. “Of course I did, I…”

“You…”

“I’ll always take care of you, Draco.”

Draco felt his heart soar.

“Thank you,” he said, moving a hand to cup her jaw and pulling her towards him. “Thank you, Hermione.”

She smiled as their lips met. “Anytime, love.”

Draco sincerely hoped that she was being honest when she said she didn’t know French or Russian.