Slytherin Dorms
Hermione always had a vague idea about the possible location of Slytherin House, but this was her first time actually seeings its entrance come to life. With a single utterance from Draco, a thick, golden serpent rose up from its previous casing within the floor and formed an arch against the wall. A door shimmered into view and silently opened to beckon them in.
She turned to glance up at him with an impressed raise of her brow. “And here I thought I’d make it out of Hogwarts without ever visiting the Slytherin dorms.”
“You can thank the illustrious Headmaster McGonagall for thinking up Eighth Year for us deprived, war-ridden souls. How else will we confront our nightmares and transition into functioning adults?” Draco quirked a grin in reply, grunting softly when she elbowed him in the ribs. Taking her hand firmly in his own, he led her past the entrance and up the stone steps into what looked to be the Common Room, decked tastefully in the Slytherin House palette, grey and silver, deep mossy green and velvety emerald.
Everything about the dungeon should have been cold. The stone surfaces, cool colors, and large windows peering out into the depths of the Black Lake would normally suck out any semblance of body warmth, but multiple fireplaces and countless lamps cast their light out to banish the chill. Students curled up fireside and under sconces, reminding Hermione of family vacations at the ski lodge.
“Are you alright?” Draco pulled her into his arms and peered down at her in concern. He knew his house could feel unwelcoming at first, especially to outsiders.
“I’m tempted to take a cat nap over there by the fire…or would it be more appropriate to compare it to a snake and a heat lamp?” She hid her grin behind a hand and feigned yawn.
Draco’s concern transformed into a suggestive smirk as his hands slid up into her hair and along her waist. “We can certainly curl up in my room later—”
She hummed in pleasure as he dragged his lips up her jaw to nibble at her lobe.
“—but first, we have to properly greet everyone.” He pressed his face into her curls, inhaling deeply before reluctantly stepping back.
“I’m sure Theo and Blaise will understand if we’re just a little late…” Hermione blasted him full on with that look, the wide-eyed plea that promised him everything and denied him nothing. She could see his hesitation, and knew with just one more push, he’d tumble and drag her off to have his way with her. Stepping back into his space, she stifled her giggle at his hard swallow and stuttered breath. “Dra-co…”
“You two are late, and that is unacceptable. I have cocktails, hors d’oeuvres, and a schedule to keep!” Pansy’s shrill voice pierced through the fog. She glared at the duo as they slowly turned to face her, heel tapping audibly on the stone floor and scarlet lips twisted into a disapproving scowl.
“Hi, Pansy,” replied Hermione, smiling like a kid caught out of bed after hours.
“Prefects, my arse. You two are worse than I ever was, and that is saying something…” Pansy continued muttering to herself as she stomped, still elegantly, around the corner to a hidden alcove along the glass.
Hermione muffled her laughter into his chest as he stroked her back once, twice, before letting to. “I suppose we ought to go. Our welcoming party awaits.”
Sigh. “If we must.” Draco knew the gathering was originally his idea that Pansy had then excitedly ran away with, but now all he wanted to do was be alone with his witch.
“Hey.” She gazed up into him, grasping his attention with a ferocity that continually shocked him no matter how often it happened. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. We have all the time in the world. And right now? We’re going to drink those three under the table.” She pulled a handful of Sober Up vials from her pocket and cheekily waved them before tucking them back into her robes.
“Granger, that’s positively snake-like.”
“Hat-stall, remember?” With a follow-up laugh, she dragged him to their friends and promised victory.