The Art of War

“If you want peace, you don't talk to your friends. You talk to your enemies.”
Desmond Tutu

Three days passed, and Draco wasn't sure he'd ever feel sated. Was it the vows? The fact that until she had come along, he had only taken care of himself to the bare minimum? Or perhaps the answer lay in the wild canvas and close quarters they shared. The only thing he knew was how little effort he needed to be consumed by her. Longed for her. It wasn't the game of push and pull they'd been playing until then. Quite the contrary. Hour after hour, they spent tangled, resurfacing for a quick wash or snack. Even meals often turned into pure lustful decadence.

He couldn't quite place when the moon had ceded to the sun, its hot rays peeking through the large window, drenching their quarters in golden heat. No amount of magic could fully cool the villa, especially at the zenith of the star's trajectory in the sky.

"Good morning," he greeted her, knowing she, too, was about to rouse. They'd been eerily in sync.

A soft sigh left her lips as she slowly started to stir, feeling his hand brushing through her hair had her starting to shift closer to him. If it wasn't for the potions, she would be far too sore and wouldn't want him to keep touching her. But as it was? She almost craved the contact. She hadn't felt the need to pull out any of the pretty things she had commissioned for their honeymoon. And there were perks to sleeping naked beside him, especially in this heat.

Laid beside her, he brushed the gold-sheen strands of chestnut hair. It was soft, and even the humidity of the thick tropical forest around them didn't seem to frizz them for once. It was an impressive feat of magic, even if it felt like an inefficient use of spellwork in the war they'd participated in. His hands in her hair felt nice. Feeling him close by? Also nice.

"Mmm, morning." She still sounded a little sleepy as she slowly opened her eyes to look up at him. The blanket barely covered the small of her back a she lay on her stomach with her head resting on her arms, leaving the expanse of her back bare. Noting the lack of the near-burning need, so she simply let herself enjoy the closeness. She didn't have to ask if he slept well. Both of them had been sleeping like the dead.

Beyond the soft, gentle touches, he didn't dare shift. If he got too close or began closing gaps between their flesh, he doubted he could stop himself. Not that he wanted to stop. It was one of the biggest problems. It didn't matter how many times he settled between her thighs; he doubted he could ever not enjoy it.

"Breakfast is probably waiting for us downstairs." Beyond the heat level of some of the sauces, he didn't have much to complain about the local flavors.

"Mmm, probably. Means I should at least get a robe," she murmured, slowly pushing herself up from the bed so she was on her knees. She brushed her hair out of her face, a little flushed from the growing warmth but nothing too intense. She glanced over at Draco, unable to help, looking him over. He was truly handsome.

Picking up her wand, she summoned her robe and shrugged it on. "Wonder how long we'll stay out of bed this time."

He reached for the length of satin around her waist and gave it a tug before tying a bow against the front of her hip. "Hopefully longer than yesterday if we ever plan to get work done while we're here." He summoned a robe of his own. Wearing anything pressed to his length was almost too much. Either from sensitivity, or in making that desire bloom in full again. A fact he was mindful of as he made a slow procession to the door.

With his wand sheathed, and hope that they'd fulfilled whatever it was their rings sough, he opened the door for her. He braced himself for failure but hoped there was a chance for them to resume some normalcy.

"Not that I don't enjoy our..." began. Quite the contrary. She felt amazing.

The tug back towards him didn't occur. It made her think that they just might be in the clear. "Oh...it is more than just enjoyable," she relented with a half smile. "But if we didn't have potions, I wouldn't be walking."

Even talking or thinking about it did make her shiver, a spark of desire rolling through her, but containable. Manageable.

"Doubt either of us could walk without them," he admitted, holding back from touching her as he followed her down the stairs. If he closed that gap, he couldn't promise they'd make it to breakfast.

"You think this is that...one vow," he flushed. He didn't dare utter it. "Because neither of us can fulfill it any time soon," he ran a hand through his hair. Try. They had vowed to try, not to succeed. But was it trying if they were circumnavigating it?

Hermione blushed a little bit more at that as she made her way into the small dining area attached to the kitchen. Breakfast and tea waiting there for them. She truly did love magic. But that one vow might be an issue. "It could be...should have phrased it differently..." She half expected him to want her to attempt to fulfill that vow if it was distracting him. There were only so many things she could do for...the new regime, after all.

Draco cursed himself for not paying closer attention to that one’s wording. The last thing he wanted was an heir. He didn’t linger on it. “I should have helped more. Things were just…complicated.” The single word seemed to sum up a lot lately. Too much. Even now, he only had so much time, and with how much time they consumed, he had a feeling they’d remain longer than two weeks.

A sigh left her lips as she ran her fingers through her hair as she looked over at him. "...It would have been appreciated but you were doing what you had to so what you were doing with me in the manor wasn't looked at too closely, or am I wrong?" She'd had a bit of time to start trying to figure out what his angle could be. If it was just to prove he had won, then capturing her did that. If it was just keeping her as a bed warmer, then marrying her wasn't the go-to. There was something else going on, and she was missing crucial pieces of the puzzle.

“We can problem-solve after some food,” he offered, leading her to the long table with a small buffet set up for them. The magic was similar to that of Hogwarts. A kitchen in the village had a table that sent the food placed on it to the one in the cottage. Anything left on it was called back in the same manner.

Taking a seat, she put food on her plate and poured herself a cup of tea. So far, so good. Now she just had to be careful what was said as well as make sure that her robe didn't come loose while they were sitting there.

He nodded. Her presence in his home had drawn attention and called his loyalties into question. “You always were keen,” he praised, throwing a grape and catching it with his mouth before building himself a plate of fruits and local delicacies—anything without much of the red angry sauce. Not that he hadn't grown weary of the sting of the green sauce. It was too early in the morning for fire.

"I always and always will be," she said simply, straightening a bit more at the praise.

He took a seat beside her and a mug of local coffee. It was strong, but he had a feeling he’d need the extra energy. After a sip, he added some agave. Only once he’d had a few bites of a loaf of sweet bread, he began prodding.

“Did you precise you would try or we would?”

She ate more fruit and pastries for the moment, making sure to add some protein to her selection, just in case they made it out of the cottage. Not that she wasn't overly confident. Sipping at her tea rather than coffee, she was glad that the house down the way had given them tea. For what felt like the first time since he arrived, she relaxed in her seat.

Thinking about his words after she had a few bites of her food, she let out a breath and leveled him one of her more stern looks. "I said try and not that we would. Because I still haven't decided if I want to give you an heir." She said simply, trying not to think too much about it.

Draco sighed and tried to keep calm. “Just to be clear, you left it on try and made it a you thing and not an us thing,” he reiterated. If she bore the sole responsibility, he could work with that.

“And to be clear, I meant what I said. I don’t care if we’re the last,” he added. That said, they now had magic flowing through them that wouldn’t take to subterfuge. This wasn’t a person they were undermining. It was their very will.

Hermione grimaced. "I said that we would try. In part to get your mother to leave us alone," she said rather pointedly as she gave him a look. "And there wasn't a time constraint on when the trying would be..."

Mulling that over, she took a bite of her food. What could they do? "If...one of us doesn't take a potion one day....and the other doesn't take it the next...that might count as an attempt since they were separate attempts...."

“Alternating won’t work if it’s an us problem. We’re best off with skipping them. Takes days for them to stop being effective…then compensate with something more abortifacient and less preemptive,” he hated it. “We can continue the week as we have, see if things continue to ease…” he added. Maybe it was just the sheer number of vows and the distance that had been placed between them. “My mother would likely be the best to know the workarounds but I am not having that conversation with her.” At least the conversation wasn’t arousing. “Or maybe it’s…” he began and paused. No, it couldn’t be so simple, could it?

She grimaced at that. The idea that something might not work after the fact due to the magic in their rings was something she had considered. But it was that or keep getting distracted by the other. Having moments of intimacy between their rather physically intensive couplings. The thought almost had her blush before she took another bite of food. None of that just yet. "Well, I'm certainly not having that conversation with your mother. But what did you just think, Draco?"

"You said you didn't set a date, and sometimes trying is just...mindset," he drank some of his coffee and ate a few more bites. "What if..." He paused to properly find the words. "What if we have an honest conversation about when we would feel comfortable to do said trying," he posited her. Hadn't everything they'd done since arriving been some type of bonding? It seemed too simple, and yet, they'd witnessed improbable feats in their years. Her own runes had demanded he open up. Even when she was trying to kill him, they apparently had a need for him to talk. "Maybe trying is as simple as meeting a set of parameters to do so..."

That...might actually work. It had her blink a few times as she held her cup in her hands, considering that a moment before she took in a sip of tea. "We can have that conversation. Parameters can be discussed...a lot of this has been exchanged anyway," she agreed easily enough. What did they have to lose? "I feel it only fitting, since I worded the vow, that you go first with any parameters in which we should try for an heir."

They were adults. They'd tried killing each other. Surely, this was a conversation they could have, right? He almost missed her cruciatus curse. Draco nodded and sipped the last dredges of his coffee. "Okay," he sounded as if testing his ability to speak, as though he needed the two syllables to get into the mindset.

"So long as there is an active war either of us is participating in, I don't think it would be wise to consider an heir," he began. It felt like a statement that could apply to both of them.

"Agreed. Too dangerous to raise a child," she said simply. The last thing she wanted to worry about was having to deal with assassination attempts while pregnant. "I would go so far as to say that any active warfare should be done for at least a few months. To be on the safe side," she added. No need for any long moments of stagnancy

How could she put this more in her favor? She didn't want to have her hand forced whenever the fighting stopped simply because it was over. "And once things are more companionable between us. This is a marriage of convenience, but it should be more than simply something transactional for the both of us when we attempt to have an heir." That put something a little more concrete in place as well, even with his words from before still in her head. I need you. What did he need?

Draco nodded. Amiable. They seemed on the right track, but would a child really help if they weren't...more? His parents had loved each other, but he wasn't blind enough to think he hadn't driven a wedge between them.

"When you can say you love me, I'll gladly give you my heir," he smiled. What were the odds of that happening? "If we're talking ideal situation, I'd rather..." He couldn't bring himself to say it, but it was also the best way to put it. He was fine with a loveless marriage, one of convenience. They had only wanted to legitimize their vows.

That almost had her drop her teacup as she stared at him. More than a little surprised. The fact he could smile while he said it. "....Likewise." She murmured simply. How likely was that to happen? The magic would know the difference between obsession and love. He needed her. He thought of her as more than just his wife. But what did that even mean? It wasn't like he could love her even if he laid claim to her.

"I don't think it would be fair otherwise. I...know too well what it looks like growing up with animosity." He thought of most of his friends that featured the sacred twenty-eight.

The memory of him kissing and licking the scars on her arm almost made her blush. Most avoided even touching it. He didn't shy away from any piece of her. It was...strange. "There's been enough animosity for the last several years. Best not to have it in our home." That still felt weird on her tongue. Our home.

“Seems we have terms,” he said, almost afraid of taking a breath. Nothing felt different. There was no magical hum or tug, nothing to alert them whether this had sufficed or not. He had to hope so, even if it meant they’d never get to try in earnest. There was no way she could love him after everything he’d done and everything he would continue to do. He wasn’t even certain he could love—not in the romantic sense.

Nothing felt different at all. And she had no idea what would let them know if this would actually work. So she finished her tea, setting that down before taking a few more bites of sweet bread. It tasted fantastic.

Draco took a few more bites and felt that familiar shift between his thighs again. “Any other discussions to be had before I feel the need to introduce you to another piece of furniture?”

Raising a brow at him at that, she tsked softly. "You'd absolutely have to warm me up a bit more before spreading me on a surface or bending me over..."

“I’ll have you warm, spread, and bent before long,” he slicked his bottom lip. The reaction was slow despite his primal tone. Still, he gave her as much time as they could afford.

Those words had her shiver, trying not to react to the primal tone of words, the way he slicked his bottom lip. But it sent liquid heat straight between her legs. “But I do have a few questions." And she needed to ask them now while they were alone.

He gave a nod.

"Why did he give his blessing? And what did he have you do the evening that you came back to the manor so late before I accepted?"

“Beyond the rattling of your side, the absolute travesty of extinguishing how much power and natural magical talent you have, and the fact that he thinks he can use you to bring me to my knees? I offered my life if I was wrong.” He remembered the day clearly. He’d failed, and he had needed a bold new plan. One she’d inspired in bed. Perhaps the Dark Lord was right. He could use her to get him on his knees. She didn’t need to know that when she had as much power over him as she currently did.

The travesty of magical talent was surprising, more so than she would have thought, but she was glad to know that her talents were at least understood and appreciated. She almost snorted. "He thinks I can be used to bring you to your knees?" She asked a little incredulously, clearly not believing that was something she could do in the least. But as he continued to talk, she felt herself pale a little. That heat quelled. The way he talked about it...she had thought him a monster for so long that she didn't think any of this affected him until that night. Numbness. He felt numb. He didn't revel in it like her side had thought and didn't seem to find joy in what he did. He was still human under it all.

And then his gaze sombered. “Which time?” He asked. “What haven’t I been made to do…target healing places, bring entire neighborhoods to heel, punishing and torturing, take your pick, but none of them will lead to anything…” he paused. Perhaps that was exactly what their libido needed.

She had to narrow it down. He came back to the manor late often.

He combed his memories for the answer she sought and paused feeling it click unspoken between them. “The night you came to bed?” He recalled it too vividly. “He had me torture a few teenagers to keep ministers in line, but one of them, he had me kill." Draco paused, as much for himself as he did for her. “I have certainly made my share of atrocities. I keep doing them, telling myself what’s one more until faces and personhood become a massive blur of numbness and every so often…” his voice was low, and he didn’t look at her. Couldn’t look at her. “I think he enjoys finding new ways to test and punish me."

Despite the description of torturing teenagers, that softened her demeanor towards him a little as she nodded her head, pouring herself a little more tea. "...He probably does...but considering how good at your job you are, I can hardly see a reason to punish you. Managed to get one of the Golden Trio to bend." The former title sounded almost bitter rather than amused or prideful. She was a Malfoy now. Shouldn't want to be associated with lions, and yet...they had invited a lioness into the viper's den.

He’d expected many reactions, but understanding wasn’t one of them. He didn’t deserve compassion. “I told you once your stunt at the brothel offered me the last shred I needed. The last memory to weave an elaborate portrait. After that, it was a matter of time. I certainly could have plucked you from your side, but then it wouldn’t send a clear message. So I drew you out until you truly had nowhere else to go. You would have fought me, and we would have both died if I hadn’t.”

Her stunt landing her here with him was exactly her luck. What was meant to have him lower his guard so she could kill him had him able to draw her in so he could trap her. "And why exactly did you want to keep me rather than kill me? You said I'm more than just your wife. You're planning something or want something I can give...and not just my body," though with how insatiable he'd been for her, she was sure that was a perk for him.

"How long had you been watching me there at the end? And why didn't you just grab me if you knew...knew all of those places like you told me at our betrothal party?"

How long had he been watching her? He knew she wouldn’t like that answer, but he gave it anyway. “I’ve been studying you for years, always trying to find that weakness to shift the playing field from draw to kill. Recently, the two-way mirror helped. I got lucky with it more times than not. I didn’t trust anyone to relay, so even that was limited.”

"Should have known my own need and desire for knowledge would get one over on me...." If she hadn't scooped up that mirror, what would have happened? They likely would both be dead, or he'd be tortured, and she'd be locked away just like Harry. She hoped her best mate could forgive her and continue to stay safe.

“Always so keen,” he purred the same praise again. It was nice to be able to have someone who could keep up. Nott and Zabini weren’t incapable and yet not quite as sharp. He wasn’t sure they would have made it as far had they been. Their lives were cutthroat, to say the least.

"I did beat your scores when we were in school," she offered before sipping the rest of her tea.She did. Back then, it had felt like all that mattered. Grades and the ability to gain favor of those with power. The difference was, Hermione had always placed rules over success. Had seldom strayed and eventually came to distrust authority. Likely why her own side benched her.

There was no room for lies, not with their vows. In many ways, this was the defining moment. “Aren’t you tired of all the fighting?” He asked honestly. Years of it, increasingly at each other’s throat. “They might not have employed you properly, but when I’m done…” he brushed her hair aside and brushed a kiss to her cheek. “I want to win.”

That one question had her pause a moment as she watched him. She was so tired of fighting. It had been far too long since she had actually relaxed. "Yes, I am."

The light kiss to her cheek had warmth rolling through her again. Win. Wasn't she just as inspired to win as he was? But win how? "I suppose I'm pivotal to that."

“You’re going to help me,” he nodded. “When the time comes, I know you’ll help me. I already promised you Diggory,” he recalled.

A soft sigh left her lips. Of course, she was to help him. Her mind was put to work with whatever plan he and the Dark Lord had. The promise of Diggory, though, had that need for revenge burn through her. She despised that man. And all she wanted was for him to truly know that.

"We are a partnership now. Would be rather unseemly if your wife didn't support your plans," she murmured before meeting his eyes. Would any success result in that same look of him wanting to eat her alive? Possibly.

He’d said she was more than his wife, and having her fall in line, understanding she needed to trust and support him. It had him hard all over again, and his time he didn’t blame magic. It would have its way with them, he knew that, but she managed that for him without the bond and its vows.

"I have many questions about that, but you'll tell me when you're ready I'm sure, which leaves just one more at the moment," she murmured, blushing more as she tried to mull over how to ask her next question. Relief washed over him when she didn’t press. There would be hurdles ahead, and eventually, when they were back on the front lines, he also knew she’d have reservations especially if some of her friends came into play.

"Twice you've been rather...domineering in the bedroom. What sorts of games or preferences do you usually have there?"

“Ah,” he sounded a bit surprised by that.

The shift in his reactions almost made her laugh. Well, good to know she could still surprise him. If she couldn't, then they'd both be rather bored and resentful later, wouldn't they?

“I like control,” he shifted to face her. Watching the heat settling further into her cheeks. He felt relieved she didn't look mortified.

“I have a lot of games I like to play. You’ve already had a taste of breath play and shaming.” He remembered his belt around her neck. Even more so when her eyes started dilating with arousal.

She listened, heat coursing through her without the magic being necessary.

“Fuck you were perfect on your knees that night,” he swallowed down as his hardened length shifted, wanting in his pants. “I showed you some bondage and hinted at knife play,” he inched closer. “Our old duels would have made for good foreplay,” he warned huskily, a storm of darkened desire in his gaze. “You haven’t seemed to mind…most things. Have I…misread?”

"...Not minding has been a bit of an understatement...." she admitted quietly. But how could she have trusted anyone before to take control and let her turn that brilliant mind of hers off?

"You can't truly hurt me....so I suppose knife play might be something we could try." She looked him over. His eyes were like molten mercury again as he eyed her.

“I can only hurt you as much as you let me, and vice versa,” he nodded. He was curious how it would translate now. Would he still be able to bruise her and leave her marked before bringing her over the edge?

“You enjoyed it.” There was no judgment to his words. If anything, he liked that she did. “I suppose we’ll have to figure out boundaries. You’re not exactly my usual…” Often, that sort of night was well paid and forced to secrecy.

"I'm sure I'm not. You did say that I'm the only witch who's been in your bed multiple times. The only witch that will be in your bed multiple times," she reiterated, and that sent a bit of a thrill through her. Clearly, it had to just be possessiveness as well. Couldn't be anything more.

Hermione nodded a moment at that, still blushing as she shifted in her seat. "Well...that leaves a few things open," she admitted carefully. How much would she be okay with him hurting her? The bruises had been nice.

"I suppose a safe word is in order...and I absolutely draw the line at any lasting marks. I have more than enough of those."

“I’ve already left you lasting marks. I don’t need any more,” he looked over her as if he could see through the fabric every leftover curse and knife wound. “And a safe word might be best,” he agreed. “I would heal any harm I cause,” he continued, though he had been good at helping heal her. “Unless we both wanted certain bruises or… scratches left to linger,” he teased her lightly. His front and back were covered in her claw marks, and he didn’t care.

The way he looked her over made sparks of desire continue to pulse through her. A safe word. She contemplated that a moment. They'd gotten into quite a few fights and skirmishes of Surrey of all places. And it would be easy to remember. "I'd be more shocked if you didn't heal me at this point...I don't mind some marks," she murmured, her fingers trailing along the bottom of her neck for a moment. The bites were enjoyable. Just no ring of bruises. "Surrey as a safe word."

It was one of those cities he would have easily forgotten. “Surrey,” he tried the word on his tongue, and then the memories surfaced. “Surrey,” the word held knowledge, his gaze falling to her side. The one he’d torn through with his dagger, which he’d laced to prevent wounds from healing. He’d also lost it that night.

“I dare say Surrey did go pretty far…” Seamus had been there. The damn arse was a menace with explosives.

Running her fingers through her hair, she combed her locks back from her face. Surrey had been far too much and a lot of close calls. She'd managed to get the wound to heal but the scar remained. Just like she had felt the scar she had left on him. A bit of a snort left her at that as she glanced at his right shoulder. "Pretty far is also another understatement. Seems like there are a lot of them this morning."

"We truly did leave quite a few marks on each other, haven't we?" Several. And they kept making sure the other couldn't heal it.

“That we have,” he agreed, “and I look forward to reclaiming every single one,” he nearly growled, seizing the side of her chair and pulling it forward so he could claim her lips. She would be gorgeous at his mercy, and he’d leave her more satisfied than any conquest. For now, he needed the same way he had for the past few days.

Reclaiming. It had her gasp as he growled and pulled her in to kiss her. Desire sparked through her, racing like flames through her body to pool between her legs as she kissed him back. That need flared right back up as she moved closer, her fingers moving up to tangle in his hair again as they so often did.

“When we can get into the right headspace,” he added. As much as the sheets would be gorgeous, drenched in red, this was neither the time nor the place. “Or we might make a repeat of Surrey.”

"And how do you plan on reclaiming them now then?" She murmured against his lips and nipped at his bottom lip before kissing him again.

“Eventually? With a blade. For now?” He could barely manage a word without claiming her lips. Kissing him back, she trembled and wanted to be in his lap or something that got them closer together. That need was starting to pulse through her again. If it was always like this, they were going to have to get distance as soon as they got back to the manor. Separate rooms would be necessary. Even if she wanted to keep her body pressed to his as often as she could.

They’d lasted longer this time, but that demand for flesh and proximity seemed to be back with a vengeance. “Much like I have this,” he pulled her sleeve again to nip and suck the word his aunt had carved into her. “I’ll claim every last one,” he nipped the last “d” more firmly as if to drive the point home.

She gasped, her heart thundering in her chest. "I won't object," she admitted a little breathlessly.

As if that were the final acknowledgment he needed, he stood and towered over her. He leaned as though to kiss her, his hands on her hips. Instead, he yanked her up, reveling in her squeal. “Good, because I’m not asking,” he threw her over his shoulder and carried her over to the nearest piece of furniture. An empty sideboard that often carried drinks in the late afternoon. There, he pinned her to strip her down to her skin.

Almost squirming, she grinned a little as he set her down on the sideboard and pinned her to untie the robe and pull it open. As he traced scars that were on her body, she shivered. There was a faint one along her collarbone that he had left, his knife anyway. There was another close by that had her almost shudder.

“Not familiar with this one,” he leaned to nip at one near one he’d left her.

"Higgs...about four years ago," she murmured. She remembered most scars and tried to pay them back in kind.

That name made him angry. If he hadn’t been present, and Higgs had tried his hand…he saw red. I’ll pay him back myself, his mind snarled. The asshole would pay for touching what was his. Even before it had become known. They’d certainly come across each other, but even he knew back then she’d been somewhat fair game. Mine! That imperative was back. Demanding and claiming. She was his. She always would be.

A gasp left her as he nipped and sucked and kissed over the scar. She ran her fingers through his hair and closed her eyes at the snarling of his mind. Pretty sure the hex I hit him with paid him back in kind, Draco. Her voice almost tried to reassure him. It was...strange. Feeling just how possessive he was. It wasn't love. It was a visceral claim and demand. It was something that clearly couldn't be subverted and as he moved to another scar, one he had left on her, she shivered and closed her eyes.

Once the scar was doted on and speckled in reddish purple splatter, he moved onto one of his nearby. Staying to safer memories. Especially knowing he’d punish anyone living with a claim to his witch. However asinine.

I'm going to be covered in red and purple by the end of this, aren't I? It was teasing, not wanting to focus on that word. Mine. It sent more heat, more desire, and a weird sense of being conflicted.

Words were silly things for normal couples that couldn’t meet on their level. As Draco redecorated her scars, he refused to speak. He couldn’t trust his tongue. And extremely satisfied, his mind projected. She nearly whimpered, and he pressed a single curled finger to her folds.

Every scar he doted on was a distraction from what they’re bodies needed and craved. Are you needing more? The question itself an offer. One he supplemented by kissing down her breast. With a soft moan, she spread her legs wider for him in a simple, wordless invitation. He felt like a craving. A need.

Of you? Yes. Another moan left her lips as his mouth took her pebbled nipple in that sinful mouth of his. One hand finding its way into his hair as she arched into him.

Somehow, he doubted he’d ever tire of the way she gripped him or the soft sounds she made when she spread for him wanton.

So needy, his mind accused though he was equally guilty of it. Uncurling his finger, he slipped it inside her, refusing to unlatch from her breast for a moment.

You asked. She accused as another moan left her lips. It wasn't nearly enough, but the man knew what he was doing with his mouth and his fingers.

I did, he echoed. As if to remind her that even now he would take care of her. Even lost in the expanses of her skin, he felt the need to make sure she was enjoying it as much as he was.

I like it when you writhe with need… he admitted, pressing a thumb to give her that added friction, the hard press juxtaposed to a harsh bite above her nipple, teeth sinking into the plump softness of her breast. Her breath hitched into a gasp on the bite, her hand tightening in his hair as her hips bucked into his hand. They looked even better now that she wasn’t starving herself.

I like that you know just where to touch...

In bed, he’d been taught and shown but never felt such a strong desire to find every single pleasure spot and exploit it. I like finding every sweet spot of yours, he admitted. Especially when you react so perfectly with a pain component. It told him how alike they were. How much they weren’t all that different.

He was attentive. Taking care of her even with this burning need. She felt like she could ask and he would do almost anything she wanted or asked of him. You're doing a great job finding them...even ones I didn't know I had.

Never had she let anyone focus on her scars. She'd pull away or redirect them. But it felt very fitting since he had placed several of them on her. Her hands traced a few scars she had left on him, following the lines of scratches on him. Knowing he had some to call his certainly stroked that insatiable need inside that made him desire more. It had his own cheeks flush. Teasing her, redecorating her, he had no trouble caving to the demands that seemed to come so deep it may have been his soul. It wasn’t like he hadn’t worn her claws with pride where glamours could have just as easily faltered. He wanted more than that.

Considering trying it yourself? The question having the edge of urging her to do the same. He wanted her to reclaim what she’d done. He wanted her marks, not just the ones he caused her to dig into his flesh. The thought alone had his throat dry as he nipped her neck and continued to touch her. He never stopped teasing her, all while making himself more available for her.

Leaning up, she trailed her mouth along his jaw, down along his neck, finding mark that she had carved into his shoulder. She brushed kiss to it before nipping and then sucking softly at the skin. If she was going to be covered in bruises, in flush new marks, then so could he. He seemed to crave her leaving some sort of mark or claim over his skin. Clearly, the rings weren't enough to show that they were tied. Entangled together so much more than she would be with anyone else again.

Sounds like you might like a little bit of pain mixed in, Draco. Or is it the idea of me leaving a claim on your flesh? Her voice crooned through his mind as she trailed her lips further down along his arm, nipping at another scar and tracing it with her tongue as she glanced up at him through her lashes.

Before he could mentally respond to such a statement, the question combined with that look from beneath her lashes had him groan with need. He swore his heart picked up speed just at the sight of her like that. His scar might as well have been his cock with how it made him feel.

“Only you,” he nearly growled the words, giving her a come hither motion in return to her teasing. She arched her hips into him, her heart was hammering in her chest, ringing in her ears. Could he hear it? How could he not? She felt like she needed him inside of her. Those fingers were amazing, but they weren't his cock. Didn't fill her quite as well as that did.

She whined softly against his arm before she sucked at that scar, keeping her eyes on him the whole time.

He didn’t want to overthink anything. Especially not when it made him feel so utterly powerless. What more vows had they yet to address? Surely something that required trust and intimacy. Was he holding them back? He could barely focus, a hand tangling in her soft, mussed hair. “Living room?” He asked. At least there were cushions. It’s distance more feasible than their bedroom.

Lifting her mouth off of his arm, she leaned into his hand in her hair with a soft moan before nodding her head. "Living room...Don't want to wait till we get back to the bedroom," she breathed. It was easy enough to admit that she just wanted him. The magic pushing this more and more had her almost tremble.

It killed him inside to slip his digits out of her. To no longer have that primal contact between them. She had barely finished her statement that he’d been on her, lifting her roughly by her rear to encourage her legs to lock around his waist.

His feet didn’t fail him on the way forward. Marching them through the door to the large white couches and driftwood furniture, simple yet luxurious. Reaching for his wand he tumbled every cushion onto the floor before bringing them down to the floor, lips locking with hers.

Her legs immediately twined around his waist as her arms looped around his neck. Kissing him back, she nipped at his bottom lip, nibbled, and tugged at it gently before sweeping her tongue into his mouth. As often as he took control of this dance of theirs, she wanted to take what control she could while she could. Wanted to feel more of him. Feel all of him.

Hermione didn't object to being laid out on the floor beneath him, didn't try to get back up onto the couch or try to push for a bed. Not when she needed him as close as possible to her. How many more vows hadn't they addressed that the magic still pushed through them? Or was this all them, and they just didn't realize?

Parting her lips, his tongue sought hers in a heated exchange. He tugged her leg over his hip and rolled her with him. He could still enjoy her without hindering her motions. With their bodies pressed, he pushed his hips forward. Anything to get them closer, to bridge the gap.

His fingers grazed her cheek, thumb slipping against her lower lip. His gaze shifted to meet hers. He wanted everything she had to offer him.

The close press had her breath hitch as he rolled with her on the cushions. Her leg easily moved up over his hip, where he guided. She broke the kiss to press her lips along his neck, going down along his chest for a moment. His thumb brushed her lower lip; she looked up at him and latched her mouth onto his thumb only to swirl her tongue around it. A groan left him as she taunted him with that hot slick tongue.

"You're looking at me like that again..." she breathed before nipping his finger.

“Which look?” He asked, reaching between them to tease them both with his length. His tip sliding against her slit, parting them to feel her from clit to entrance.

His forehead pressed to hers as they aligned. With a push he slid a few inches in. “Like I can’t stop myself?” He breathed against her lips. Fuck she felt good.

Before she could answer him, she moaned as his tip slid against her clit. That groan made her ache for more. It had her arch into him a little more, keeping her forehead to his as she whimpered in longing as he started to slide inside of her.

"Yes...Draco," she moaned his name, nails lightly digging into his back as she tried not to writhe. "Don't stop." Any of it. The looks, the kisses, and his words that made her burn hotter for him.

His name was pure decadence falling from her lips. Even more so when she added those two delicious words alongside them. He hadn't stopped when he'd been out for her blood, and now more than ever, he certainly wasn't going to do so. Every sound and look she gave him spurred him on. Rolling his hips forward her sheathed himself into her, seizing her hips to get as deep as their position afforded.

It's like she was made for this...for me. He couldn't stop the thought, tugging her and rolling them so she lay atop him. Gripping her arse he pushed up into her, using her weight to get that added space he'd been deprived of. Moans and expletives fell from him, renewed as she scored her nails down his arms, clutching him in her embrace.

That fullness as he filled her core completely had her moan louder before he rolled them as his thoughts filled her head. It had her cheeks flush further. That sounded mental, considering everything. There was no way that she could have been made for him. But then why did he feel so good and feel like he filled up every inch of her?

"Oh god," she whimpered again, trying not to start cursing herself as she rolled her hips to meet him. She wanted that closeness. It's like he's filling every part of me...fuck The thought slipped out between them, unable to be contained as he hit that spot over and over again.

“Draco will do,” he struggled to grit the words. Her thoughts only made him want more of her. At least she seemed to feel it, too. How well they seemed to fit. On the field, she’d been like an exciting game of wizard chess. Now? She was beyond anything he knew. As much as he’d been raised for this sort of loveless marriage of convenience, he was out of his depth.

It was simpler to focus on angling her just right to get those delicious sounds out of her. The ones that warned him as to how close she was to falling apart.

Cocky arse She couldn't contain the thought even as she blushed, rolling her hips as she rode him while he bucked up into her. It had her breathing uneven and labored. All she could do was clutch at him, moan, and nearly squirm under the onslaught of his attentions.

A breath of laughter escaped him as he heard her projected accusation. He wanted to point out that it was fact but instead focused on her, on both of them. Too sensitive from their earlier entanglements. And though it would be short-lived, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when they were both so blissfully sated. It had his grip tighten, rising into her with a steady pace.

Hermione's breath hitched, that laugh actually having her eyes meet his again, and her expression softened just a little. Why did his laugh do that to her? He felt like he was burning his touch into her very psyche. Nothing would ever compare to how he felt with her, would it? Not that she'd have room to compare again. Her moans grew louder. She reveled in the way he seemed to struggle with spoken words. It had her grind into him with a bit more force. She needed so much more from him. She was getting so close. That pressure and pleasure was building, and her legs tightened on either side of him as she tried to hold off a little longer. Too good. It was too good, and she wanted it to last a little longer in case that frenzy of need broke this time after they were finished.

It didn't take much longer before she moaned louder, her inner walls tightening around him as she ground down against him and pressed her lips to his.

It didn’t matter how much he braced himself; the moment she clamped down, he was done. He could feel pleasure pooled at the base of his spine and tearing through him. Once, twice, three more times, he pushed against her resistance, firmly filling her with every rise of his hips. The pleasure turned to near pain as he did that,leaving her whimpering atop him. Breathless, he stilled to catch his breath against her shoulder. When he stopped moving she sank down, laying out on his chest with him still inside of her as she caught her breath. Slick with sweat, cheeks flushed, catching her breath took a moment, and all the while, her fingers trailed over his skin, needing that further bit of intimacy.

It was a few moments before he broke the silence. “You know, regardless of when this stops, I won’t deny you, right?” He brushed his fingers against her spine, petting her gently. “I’d hardly be able to deny a request if you wore any of those…pieces you had made."

As he pet her, Hermione relaxed further and sighed softly against his chest. That felt amazing. "Mmmm, would it take wearing one of those pieces I had made?" She asked, voice still breathless.

“You naked would get whatever point you wanted to make clear…” his own voice was closer to a breath. She was dangerous. But most important, she was his. This wasn’t a byproduct he had anticipated, and yet he wasn’t complaining.

"Would it take me naked?" She tried to tease, but she wasn't sure if she wanted the answer. He seemed to respond to her so powerfully. Was she right about it being obsession when he claimed she was so much more than just his wife? It was unclear. Startling. About as startling as this being so easy between them when it came to sex.

Draco leaned in. “I’m certain you’d find suitable alternatives…” Before she could answer, he claimed a kiss. Hermione kissed him back and tightened a hand in his hair. Rolling her hips into him slightly, a small retaliation for making her unable to question further. Unless she used that bond. But she kissed him and tried to keep her breathing even.

Her knees would likely do just fine, but there was no point in tormenting his lioness. He tried to think of what they hadn’t gone over. Any vows they might have missed or something they might have inadvertently added in their quest to cover their bases.

What other vows might they need clarity on? They knew her list if names, did he have to confirm it? Did she have to already be added to the Wards around the manor? Her mind spun.

The way she clung and teased made the pretense of any thought futile. Instead, he focused on how hot and soft her tongue felt against his. After everything, it was shocking how easily she derailed him. Was this why they kept falling prey to this seemingly infinite loop? Rather than overthink, he groaned against her lips.

How am I supposed to think when you feel like that?! his thoughts clearly accusatory.

That groan had her smirk a little bit against his lips, swirling her tongue around him as she slowly ground against him. You think you make it any easier with how you feel inside me? Her thoughts countered just as easily. He was driving her insane. He filled her so thoroughly as she stayed astride him.

But she stilled, not moving to try and see if that would help either of them think as she broke the kiss and rested her forehead to his a moment. "Getting this...out of our system is harder than I thought..."

Cupping her cheeks, he closed his eyes a moment as their foreheads remained pressed together. “Apparently,” he agreed. “Doesn’t help that you’ve somehow convinced yourself that I’m noble enough not to agree to indulge if you threw yourself at me."

She leaned into his hand against her right cheek with a soft sigh as she closed her eyes. The intimacy of this moment was strange but not unwelcome. Not with how long she had craved some sort of intimacy in her life. "Pardon me for still wrapping my mind around the fact that my blood status doesn't matter to you. Among everything else." It was still dizzying to think about.

His thumb brushed her cheek. “This once,” he agreed as though she were asking his pardon. Leaning forward, he nipped her lower lip. “Wasn’t exactly expecting you to throw yourself in my bed,” he admitted, pushing his hips up so she could feel him filling her again. There had been so much he hadn’t expected. If anything, he’d expected a life of celibacy. “I even told the Dark Lord as much.” There was no way he’d be able to hide this. All of this. “You’re in the fold regardless now,” he shifted to turn them so he could better thrust into her. “Though I suppose you are the first to have no claim to blood status,” he punctuated his sentence with a harsh thrust.

"Of course, I took it that way." Rolling her eyes, she gasped as he thrust back up into her. It felt less frantic, like some of that magical energy had subsided, but she still wanted him. Wanted this. Her breath hitched as he rolled them so he could thrust down into her again. "You told the Dark Lord you expected celibacy?" Her voice was a little strained, trying not to moan so they could continue speaking. That harsher thrust did have her moan, though, and she whimpered softly as she rolled her hips into his. The first time I was trying to kill you....didn't expect you to be good in bed or want to continue fucking me once you knew it was me. The second time? I....you just felt so good. We both needed something... or maybe they both needed each other. Intimacy. Something other than anger and hurt.

“No merit in flipping you otherwise,” he retorted with just as much strain. Even more so when her thoughts came his way. He hadn’t expected to enjoy her in bed, even less to crave her. Most of all, he never thought she could bring herself to do it. There’d always been a passion to her fighting style that led him to believe she’d never truly be able to see past the atrocities he’d committed.

I need a lot of things, there was almost laughter between their bond. Despite that, he didn’t dislike this here with her. Whatever it was, she filled in his existence.

She wasn't sure what sort of situation he had expected. But she didn't expect anything like this. Like him. As he thrust inside of her, she let her head fall back on another moan, her hair fanning out over the cushions there on the floor. Part of her still hated him, hated herself for enjoying this. But if her life were just to be a back and forth of attempting to help those she could, she'd take enjoyment where she could get it.

I'm starting to realize, she replied with a bit of darkness as she looked up at him, biting down on her bottom lip gently. It seems there are a lot of things you want too.

Wants. Needs. It was hard to differentiate when she felt so great around his cock. The way she was on full display for him. Every meeting of flesh was their own, not with the same pull that kept driving them to each other. And you don’t? His thoughts held a bit of amusement in their query.

Sitting up, he roamed her body with his hands over a nipple and across newly bruised scars. She was a sight to behold. Part of him had trouble believing that small part of himself that seemed to claim mine whenever they were like this.

A bit of a grin tugged her lips for a moment before his fingers trailing over her body had her moan, her eyes fluttering closed a moment. Getting used to actually wanting things again...but you aren't wrong. There was a bit of caution to her thoughts but honesty to them as well. Wanting things had gotten her into trouble before. Wanting him had to be only natural after all of this, didn't it?

She arched her chest into his hand with another moan. "Mmmm. You know just where and how to touch me...." He paid attention. It shouldn't have shocked her. He paid attention to everything else.

Everyone wanted something. He wouldn’t have managed to do the impossible if she hadn’t had wants and needs. He didn’t fight her on semantics. Not when he understood what she meant. He felt it deep in his marrow.

“I try,” he met her darkened gaze with one of his own. He enjoyed her reactions. Finding those spots meant enjoying them firsthand. And when it had that glimmer of discovery, it merely sweetened the experience. In his explorations, he reached between them, his thumb brushing her clit to give it that added friction.

There was a list of things that Hermione did want. Safety. Security. The fighting to stop. And now the escapism that she was finding with her new husband was rapidly climbing that list. She didn't assume that they'd always get along from this point, but at least they had some sort of understanding. "You succeed," she gasped as he brushed her clit.

Her nails dug back into his back again as he did that, her hips arching to grind against that friction and take him in deeper. The added friction had her breathing a bit more labored, getting close to being pushed over the edge again.

Draco arched into her nails, hips colliding more firmly against her. Lowering into her grasp, he indulged in the lengths of her hair, petting as much of it where his forearm kept him steady. It was a while longer before he demanded her lips in a kiss. A small exchange before finding the side of her neck. There was no way he’d deprive himself of those whimpers.

With his other hand between them, he continued to give her that friction, timing it with his thrusts. She felt so good against his sensitive length. Every slip into her pulling a gruff sound from him as pleasure began to pool at the base of his spine.

The harder thrusts combined with that pressure to her clit had more moans leaving her lips. She leaned into the touch of his fingers in her hair, kissing him back and almost following his mouth as he broke the kiss. She gasped and tried not to writhe under him as it built and built.

So close. Her thoughts couldn't be contained, and she couldn't form words with her mouth. Her lips parted. After so many times being together this way, she was incredibly sensitive.

Those words echoed through him. Gritting his teeth he did his best to hold off. He didn’t want to get off without her. Even when he’d been with her as enemies, He hadn’t been so cruel. But after everything, he was sensitive. Extremely so. His thumb worked harder, using everything in his arsenal to help her get there. He could feel that heat, the tightness, every thrust, a game of chance until he couldn’t hold back. His motions grew choppy as he felt that warmth escape him to fill her.

The harder press of his thumb with those uneven thrusts is what did it. She cried out again, her inner walls tightening around him as one hand fisted in his hair and pulled his mouth to her own to kiss him. She trembled from sensitivity and tried not to writhe beneath him. That burning need felt like it was finally dying down, leaving her body sensitive, blissful, and craving that little bit of intimacy they afforded each other.

Draco kissed her like her lips were the very air his lungs needed. The hand between them smoothed up her side and cupped her cheek to deepen the exchange. Though he softened inside her he pushed forward, not quite ready to feel that loss. Maybe we’ll make it out of the house today, he let the thought trail.

Hermione trembled, almost whimpering at the overstimulation as he pushed forward. Her fingers slowly started to stroke through his hair rather than fisting it, kissing him slowly and thoroughly. The frenzy seemed to have faded. They might actually be able to enjoy the rest of their honeymoon. And not just be tangled together the whole time. Not that that wasn't enjoyable. Maybe...Don't say it out loud yet. Don't want to jinx it. Though she couldn't cut off the follow-up thought and didn't realize it came through. And I'm not done kissing you yet....

As much as he wanted to laugh, he was interrupted by her final thought statement. Although taken aback by it, he didn’t part from her lips. On the contrary, he smiled against her mouth. As my madam wishes, his mind purred back, his tongue teasing the top of her palate before engaging hers. There were far worse ways to spend time, and he couldn’t complain about his current predicament. A stark contrast to the chase exchange of lips after their vows. Not that he hadn’t pushed bounds on the dance floor after. When he kissed it, it was with everything. His body pressed against hers while a hand roamed her body. Pausing to find a spot to rest against before moving on to the next.

She blushed a bit more at that, realizing that the thought had come across, but she parted her lips for him and let him lead that kiss, melting into it. Her fingers brushed through his hair, her other hand slowly tracing up and down his back as she rested with him there on the floor. His kisses were better than she would have predicted. They'd get properly cleaned up again in just a little bit and then see about exploring for the day.

Kissing her was easy. Far too easy. So much for this being my atonement... The thought was a runaway. At the end of the day, he had offered this as a means to make up for his failures, as far as his master knew. He had had some expectations, and though he had no doubt she would play her part, he needed to brace himself for the cost of finding enjoyment in such a situation.

Atonement? She couldn't help but ask right back to that thought as she slowly parted the kiss so she could finally catch her breath completely as she looked up at him. Getting cleaned up and ready for the day would be necessary before too long. It would be far too tempting to just lounge with him otherwise and she didn't want to be that vulnerable with him. That open. The sex and the intimacy that came with that was enough.

Slipping out of her, he let their legs tangle and pulled her to settle in on their sides beneath the mess of cushions. “I was honest when I told you we were in this together or we would die,” he tucked her hair behind her ear with his left hand—the angry dark mark on his arm in plain sight. “I failed my mission to kill you, not that I was actively trying towards the end. Just enough to keep up appearances and offer him more than He asked for.” At least it had to appear that way. He tried to guard the stray thought.

She moved where he guided and looked up at him, resisting the urge to lean into that touch. The tattoo, the magical mark, that was on his arm caught her eye, and her stomach twisted. How had she just ignored it for all the times that she had been riding him or he had been on top of her? Her gaze lingered on that mark for a moment before sliding back up to his gaze, but her own chocolate hues were a little more distant. Not as warm. "I didn't think you were bluffing...We both failed in our missions to kill the other...Should have realized you were planning something..."

He swore his skin prickled and burned when she set her sights on it. He hardly tried to hide it. There was no point. She knew what he was. His fingers brushed her cheek, meeting her gaze. He missed the warmth she’d had in them. “I’d say I’m disappointed you didn’t, but then we likely wouldn’t be here right now,” his voice was low, just shy of a whisper. His nose brushed hers before taking in a slow breath. “After we get what I need from the nearby temple, you and I can plan how to address your list.” His index trailed her jaw. “Hopefully your friends want to be saved…though I suppose a remote island and monthly supplies can be a suitable alternative,” he suppressed a chuckle at the thought of a few of them stranded on one of his private islands.

The light brush of his fingers to her cheek had her stay relaxed, but she let her gaze hold that distance for a moment. What distance she could have from a man that had been inside of her. So many times that she had lost count. If they hadn't been taking potions, she was rather certain an heir wouldn't have been a problem. "Hard to be disappointed when things turned out your way then," she said with an underlying note of bitterness that she quickly shoved aside. She liked having things her way as well. And she couldn't blame him for feeling pleased that he had gotten it. "Addressing the list will be complicated....at least Luna shouldn't be too difficult to extract, and we know she wants to be saved..." Saved or with Blaise. It all amounted to the same thing after a while, didn't it?

He wanted to counter but held back. “We’re alive,” he agreed. “It’s a start.” Because that’s all this was. A beginning of sorts. And it hadn’t gone at all how he’d planned.

“Luna should be back by the time we return,” he added. “This time more permanently.” She’d been an asset, but things were more complicated now. Blaise’s only hope would be a similar arrangement.

"We are....and I do thank you for that," she murmured quietly. Even with the bitterness, she didn't want to be dead. Didn't want her story to close on her failures. At least now she could do something. A small smile curved her lips. "Good....I missed Luna. Having another woman that I'm familiar with in the house will be nice...."

Even if she was rather certain those two were going to have to sprint into a marriage as well. At least she could help Luna with her vows. And the ceremony. And threaten to hex or torture anyone that hurt her. Perhaps she did have a bit more of a venomous streak than she thought she did.

“I thought of wrapping her up for you, but I’m sure Blaise has handled that,” he nipped along her jaw. It was odd how close and intimate their bodies could be and sometimes it felt like the distance between them was entire continents. Perhaps that was what the rings were trying to bridge, as though the domesticity of their current position could fill the void they’d dug out themselves.

"I'm sure he does," she chuckled, blushing a bit more at the mere idea of that. He had trussed her up, and it hadn't looked all that unpleasant. Something she might bring up to Draco later. Once she could trust him even more.

“You can torture anyone you want,” he promised, only getting the edge of that desire. “Hell my men do something in your house you don’t like…” he liked that more than he cared to admit. He hoped they’d be terrified of her as they were of him.

She shivered under those nips, tilting her head so he could reach more of her as she shivered, keeping her eye son him all the while. "I'll make sure I remember that." Her voice was a dangerous croon, clearly already having a few of his men in mind if they overstepped a line.

There were several that she honestly would not hesitate to hex. And only two that she would absolutely hesitate to harm in any way.

When she crooned that way, it did things he wasn’t quite proud of. A soft moan withered in his throat. He hoped he’d get a show of it sometime. “Just remember not to play favorites,” he warned as if they discussed children and not a group of death eaters that would happily do the unspeakable to her had they not wed. As if they hadn’t tried.

A sigh left her lips at that with that warning. "That will be difficult, considering I like two of them and the rest I despise," she admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. At least the two were ones that he trusted a lot more than he let on. That he protected a lot more than he let on.

“Believe me. I know,” he chuckled. “They’re the only two I trust, too,” he admitted openly. “And if you tell them their heads won’t fit through the doors and we have French doors.” Even Theo and Blaise knew they had his favor, but that didn’t make them immune by any means. If anything, it made them targets.

"I figured as much. They move more freely through the manor, they were the ones allowed to check on me. I doubt you'd have left me in the company of those you don't trust. If you can help it," she drawled without poking further. She knew that admitting it wouldn't go well for them.

Everyone on his team served a purpose. With a woman and, more precisely, one whose death could make a name, he had to be cautious. “Friendship is one thing, but I had so much on both of them to make their lives a living hell if they had tried to claim your life,” he responded in an undertone. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he purred. “Your presence made many hopeful for glory.” He tucked her closer. “I’m not trying to be mean. I cannot risk you lowering your guard.”

Hermione could believe all of that. If they got one over on Draco, it would prove he was slipping and would raise them in the ranks. If they could fabricate or figure out she was helping her friends on the other side? They'd use that as a reason to kill one or both of them. She shivered and lightly nipped at his jaw. "My guard is hardly down. Being more well-rested, though? That's working in my favor." Plus she had a few tricks up her sleeve from the Weasleys. Even if they hated her, they'd prove useful with the gadgets she still had at her disposal. "No one will get me, Draco."

He hoped she was right. Trust wasn’t something that came easily. Not when he was in so deep. Right now he felt his own guard down. If someone came in here… “And how long would it take for either of us to get armed right now?” He reminded under his breath. He knew the answer. Knew how easily they distracted each other.

That actually gave her pause, and she glanced at where the robe was. It would take a moment or two. "Point taken. Not my fault you're distracting," she murmured quietly before returning her attention to him. Wand closer at hand at all times. Duly noted.

“Likewise,” he admitted, shame lacing his tone. Reaching out to his robes, he summoned his wand. It took a moment to reach his palm. Once in hand, he summoned hers and cleaned them off quietly. “Perhaps we should get dressed and see how long you keep your knickers on this time,” he taunted.

Taking her wand appreciatively, she flushed a little bit. Losing her knickers so quickly around him had to be because of the magic. Had to. The fact they were sexually compatible was just a happy coincidence. But she paused before brushing a quick kiss to his jaw before sitting up. "I'm sure I can keep my knickers on for the rest of the day."

“I don’t need to take them all the way off to enjoy you." It would be a pity, but since arriving wouldn’t be the first need to bridge the gap at any cost. He let her sit up and watched her a moment. He’d lay a while longer before hitting the shower. A feeling his muscles protested and welcomed.