Imminent

I can't help but love you, Even though I try not to
I can't help but want you. I know that I'd die without you
I can't help but be wrong in the dark, 'Cause I'm overcome in this war of hearts
I can't help but want oceans to part, 'Cause I'm overcome in this war of hearts
(War of hearts, ruelle)

June 1997

Those honey brown eyes were gazing up at him, half lidded and almost black. Draco took a deep breath and kissed her softly, gently, feeling more nervous than he would ever admit. He wanted this to be memorable. Because who knew if he would ever see her again. Who knew if he would survive the war, if he would survive tonight. 

No, tonight he wanted to focus on her. 

On Hermione.

And how she made him feel. 

Which was currently terrified but also ungodly…loved. He felt loved by her. She hadn’t said it. Never made any indication but he felt it. Even if it was only that friend type of love. He was going to cherish it. Especially tonight.

He’d kissed her thoroughly in an empty hallway, half listening in case someone discovered them. Draco thought for a moment that he wouldn’t mind being discovered with this sly little witch. He’d felt her smile into their kiss as his fingers dug into that ticklish spot on her hip under her shirt. She’d moved to pull away but he’d tugged her closer, his other hand burying into those silken curls and holding her steady lest she slip away from him.

Months of this. Of the stolen kisses, the sly teasing, the hidden discovery of each other’s bodies.

And Draco…he wanted more. More from her. But would only take what she would give him.

And it felt like Hermione might’ve been reading his mind in that moment as she’d slowly pulled away from him, gazing up at him with those swirling brown eyes. She bit her lip and nodded.

She nodded.

Draco had gulped audibly, embarrassingly, and looked at her with wide eyes.

She nodded again. Pulled his hand from her hair. Linked their fingers together. Led the way to the Slytherin dorms. 

His heart thudded against his chest with every step they took. 

He’d felt the Disillusionment charm she cast over them as they quietly peeked around corners, sneaking closer to the dorm. They had stopped twice for Draco to back her into a wall and kiss down her neck, nuzzling in the column of flesh as she tried to muffle her squeal.

The dorm was empty as they’d silently crept through to his private room, both of them thankful Slytherins were given separate rooms (though Hermione had voiced the injustice of it, wishing she could be separated from Lavender and Parvati).

Hermione now nipped at his lip playfully, her quiet laugh a melody to his ears.

He’d give anything to stay in this moment with her. To forget about the raw Mark burning on his left arm. It had been months since he’d been Marked but it still burned like it was done yesterday. Now was the first time he fully bared his chest to her, always careful to leave his shirt on, almost always buttoned. He’d allowed her hands to skim under his shirt, along his lower abdomen, maybe letting her feel her way halfway up. But he always stopped her and she never protested. He couldn’t bear the thought of her seeing and knowing of the Mark etched into his skin. Couldn’t bear the thought of how she’d look at him with pity especially now after the incident with Potter and the fresh scars that were tender and decorated him.

This time she had pulled timidly at his shirt, silently requesting for more and his lips devoured hers. 

Now…his heart was hammering in his chest.She held his gaze as she slowly pushed the shirt from his shoulders. Draco’s breathing picked up but he didn’t dare break the stare as Hermione’s hands trailed down his arms, pushing the shirt further until he let it fall to the ground. She grasped his forearms–her hand circling around the disparaging Mark.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t shy away. Didn’t look at him in disgust.

She reached up on her toes, pulling his arms around her waist and kissing him tenderly.

“I know that’s not who you are,” she whispered and it was his undoing.

Love. He felt loved again. 

Draco could’ve cried tears of relief at her validation. Months of teasing, of meeting in empty classrooms and empty hallways. Months of getting to know every part of her body that she allowed. Getting to know every sound that he could pull from her as he made her clench around his fingers and tongue. 

She was his drug and he wished to never be sober again. 

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her fiercely. Hermione met him with equal fervour, biting at his lip again. With the unspoken affirmation between them earlier, Draco knew that this night was going to end with him buried inside her, her legs wrapped around his hips, and the most perfect sounds leaving her lips as he made love to her. 

He couldn’t call this anything but love. Hermione was too good, too pure to be called a simple fuck. He wished he could tell her as much but decided his actions would speak louder.

He slowly unfastened the buttons on her Oxford, pulling it free from her skirt. That bloody skirt that he hated but loved diving under to taste her. Draco kissed a path down her neck as she let the shirt slide down her arms. Her simple pale blue bra was an obstacle that he removed quickly before taking a rosy nipple into his mouth. She whimpered and pressed closer to him. 

Draco hummed in approval and his hands travelled further to the zipper of her skirt. Soon it was in a puddle next to her shirt by her feet. Slowly, so slowly he backed her up and gently lay her on his bed, only briefly removing his mouth from her.

He gazed down at her, laying on his bed with her legs demurely closed together but a confidence burning in her eyes. Briefly his heart clenched at the sight and he wished they could stay like this. But he knew he had limited time before his task would need to be completed. In fact, it was only hours. And in that short time he was going to enjoy the time he could with her.

Hermione cocked her head at him, a question in her eyes.

“You’re…,” he murmured and crawled over her as he kissed a path up her torso, “Perfect.”

Her hum and gentle hand through his hair made him shiver. He raised up on his elbows, staring down at her, remembering every freckle that painted her face. He kept his eyes on hers when he felt her hands slowly trail down his abdomen, reaching and tugging at the belt and buttons of his black trousers. When her hand slipped inside and grasped him, Draco closed his eyes with a groan. 

She was too good at this. Ever the overachiever, she had studied him and perfected every touch to elicit the precise reaction she wanted. And he craved it, craved that touch.

Draco raised himself off the bed before dropping his trousers and briefs, baring himself to her. He felt self-conscious as her eyes roved over him, very aware of the black Mark on his arm and the red angry scars splattered across his chest, courtesy of Potter. But she held out a hand, beckoning him to her, her shy smile all the approval he needed as any self-doubt withered away.

Instead of taking her hand, Draco slowly grasped her knickers and pulled them down her legs, his eyes never leaving hers, waiting for that fear to enter her eyes.

Instead, Hermione bit her bottom lip and a blush spread over her face and chest. He smirked and placed light kisses along her thigh. He looked up and locked eyes with her as he gave a flat long lick up through her folds. Her gasp filled the room and he held her stare as his tongue danced between her clit and her swollen centre. Hermione couldn’t take anymore and was shaking when she reached and grasped his hair, giving a sharp tug. 

Draco growled and nipped his way back up her body, stopping to leave a mark here and there: on her side below a rib, the underside of her left breast and just below her right collarbone. He looked down at his handiwork and felt satisfaction at her shivers. 

“Draco,” she whispered and he looked into her eyes again. “Please.”

“We need a-“

“I’m on a muggle birth control,” she blurted out.

He blinked at her and Hermione started to recoil. 

“Is it…?”

“It’ll work,” she said softly, “It’s been proven by plenty of doctors—“

She was silenced by a kiss and Draco whispering, “I trust you, Granger.” He swallowed noticeably, his nerves catching up to him. “You’re sure you want this with me? I won’t hold it against you if you change your mind.”

Hermione smiled warmly at him. She reached for his left arm and turned her head, placing a kiss on that hideous Mark marring his pale skin. Draco shivered and almost felt tears burn in his eyes. If she only knew what that gesture meant to him.

He kissed her fiercely and reached down between their bodies, grasping his length and running the head through her wet lips. Hermione moaned into the kiss and bit his lip again. Draco smiled and gave in to her, slowly easing himself into her tight heat. Both groaned as he slowly thrust his hips, gently pulling out before sliding back.

For a moment he was thankful Milly had the forethought to give him “the talk” a few years ago. He knew that there may or may not be some resistance when it was a lady’s first time. That it was normal either way. Hermione’s hymen it seemed was still intact and at her nod, he surged forward, swallowing her cry of pain in a kiss. Draco waited a moment and kissed her tears away, holding back and letting her adjust.

Another nod from her and Draco slowly eased back, watching her face scrunch from either pain or discomfort.He tested thrusting forward gently and her small moan coupled with a nod was enough to urge him to move again. Draco raised up on his forearms as he rolled his hips against hers. Hermione wrapped one leg around his waist, her nails biting into his shoulders from where she braced herself.  

The room filled with a mix of gasps and whimpers. The slap of their hips echoed in the small space. Draco watched in fascination as Hermione’s face would scrunch, her lips forming an “O” as he would surge forward. He experimented, changing his pace to a faster rhythm and felt her nails scratch down his shoulders. Soon she was grasping onto him desperately and whining into his ear as he kissed across her shoulder.

Almost too soon Draco felt the familiar tightness coiling. He reached down and circled his thumb on Hermione’s clit, earning a sharp gasp before feeling her clench around him. He held off as long as he could until he was sure by her spasms and crying out that she felt that bliss first. 

He couldn’t hold it any longer and let out a loud yell as he buried his face in the crook of her neck while his hips continued moving on their own, chasing his orgasm to completion. 

Hermione’s giggle roused him from euphoria. He nuzzled her neck, pulled out of her, and rolled to the side, taking her with him. He sighed as he looked into her eyes, bright with happiness.

No regrets. He could see that she had none and he was ecstatic. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, and buried his face in her now frazzled curls. Hermione sighed contentedly and kissed his chest, right where the still angry scars lay. 

I love you, he thought, I wish you loved me too.