Chapter 61
Draco stepped into the warmth of Hermione's childhood bedroom, the quaint space a stark contrast to the grandiose halls of Malfoy Manor. The soft light of the bedside lamp cast a cozy glow, illuminating the shelves lined with books and mementos from her life before Hogwarts. The familiar smell of pine and cinnamon from the Christmas tree downstairs added to the comforting ambiance.
Hermione stood by the window, looking out into the snowy night. When she turned to face him, her eyes sparkled with a mixture of excitement and mischief. "You're here," she said, a smile tugging at her lips.
"I am," Draco replied, stepping closer. He pulled a small, wrapped book from his pocket and handed it to her. "Merry Christmas, Hermione."
Her eyes lit up as she unwrapped the rare tome, her fingers tracing the intricate cover. "It's perfect," she whispered, looking up at him with genuine appreciation. "Thank you, Draco."
"Only the best for you," he murmured, his hand reaching out to touch her face, his fingers brushing along her cheek.
As she set the book aside, Draco’s mind wandered back to the first Christmas he had come to her. That night had been so special, a memory he cherished deeply. It was the first time Hermione had initiated anything sexual without. The image of her shyly kneeling before him, her hands trembling slightly as she fumbled with his belt, was forever etched in his mind.
Even though her touch had been clumsy, it had been the most intense experience of his life. The sight of her determination, her willingness to please him, had driven him wild. He remembered how he had come so hard, more intensely than ever before. That memory made every subsequent Christmas Eve a night he eagerly anticipated, a night where he could relive that high.
Hermione moved closer to him now, her hands deftly undoing his belt. She looked up at him, her voice a soft whisper. "Now it's my turn to give you something."
Draco's breath hitched as Hermione knelt before him, her fingers skillfully freeing him from his trousers. She took him into her mouth, her movements slow and deliberate. Draco closed his eyes, his hand resting gently on her head. The warmth of her mouth and the flick of her tongue sent shivers down his spine. He groaned, his fingers tightening in her hair as the pleasure built.
Hermione’s pace quickened, her hands and mouth working in perfect harmony. Draco's breaths became ragged, his control slipping as he neared his peak. With a final, shuddering breath, he came, his release powerful and overwhelming. Hermione stayed with him through it all, her movements gentle as she helped him ride out the aftershocks.
When it was over, she rose to her feet, her eyes filled with satisfaction and something deeper. Draco pulled her into his arms, holding her close. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.
"Always," Hermione replied, kissing him gently.
This yearly tradition, this perfect moment, was a reminder of the depth of their connection.Christmas Eve was always perfect, a secret treasure in the midst of his controlled and calculated life. And as Draco made his way back to Malfoy Manor, he carried that perfection with him.