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Hermione wanted to see all eight stories of the library, naturally, so they had begun to work their way up. They were on the third floor when she noticed the time.

“It’s gotten late,” she said.

Draco searched her face. “Do you want to go?”

She chewed on her lip and glanced around the room full of books and back to him.

“No. But I don’t want to keep you up. After all, you have seen your library before.”

He gave her a half-smile.

A thought suddenly struck her. She opened her mouth to suggest it, but closed it back instead.

“What?” He asked.

She shook her head.

“Tell me.”

“No,” she said, “It’s silly.” She felt the heat rise in her face.

“Sillier than getting emotional at the sight of books?”

“I suppose not.”

“What is it then?” Draco asked over his shoulder. He had begun to walk away from her towards the shelving on a far wall. He was halfway there when her words stopped him.

“I was thinking we could ‘practice’ again. If you want.”

Hermione’s legs felt like jelly. Part of her couldn’t believe she had suggested it, but she didn’t think he would again. And she had to see if it would be like the first time. That kiss had been over a week ago now, and she was going crazy from the memory of it.

She swallowed. “Well?”

Draco faced her, but his eyes were on the wall to his right, her left.

“In here?” he asked the wall.

Hermione hadn’t noticed her shoulders being tight until that moment when his response loosened them.

“I wouldn’t mind,” she replied. “It has always been a sort of fantasy of mine.”

His eyes shifted to her at this declaration.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

Draco closed his eyes, as if trying to remember something.
“No reason. Why don’t you pick the spot?”

She began to circle the room, a hand on her chin in thought. She paused in front of a nook that had a cream-colored chaise lounge sofa.

“How about here?”

Draco crossed the room to where she stood. “Now what?”

“Maybe we could start where we left off in your office?”

Draco loosened his tie, and sat on the sofa.

“Weird question,” Hermione prefaced.

“Yes?”

“Do you have your glasses with you?”

His face turned smug as he ran a hand through his hair.

“You like me in glasses, Darling?”

Hermione blushed furiously. “Well, if you’re going to make an event of it-”

 “I’m joking.” He held up his hands in defense. “Here.”

He slipped his glasses from his front pocket and put them on.

Hermione’s heart stammered and she prayed he couldn’t hear it.

Braver than she felt, she approached him. In his office she had stepped between his legs. This time, she came to his side and swung a leg over to straddle him. She noticed his throat bob, and grinned.

“Let’s come up with a signal. Something either of us can do or say to let the other know we want to stop.”

“Okay,” he approved, “like what?”

She tilted her head. “We could use a play on words. Like ‘quidditch’, for example, sounds a little like ‘quit it’.”

“Fair enough. What all do you want to do?”

“I’m not sure. I know I want to kiss again.” She hoped that didn’t sound too much like a confession.

His hands twitched.

“What else?”

She let out a shaky breath. “Well, I’m already straddling you. What if you take it from there?”

He raised a brow at her and looked at her over his glasses.

“What?” She asked. “That’s what ‘quidditch’ is for.”

He rubbed his neck with his hand and looked up at her. “All right.”

Heart in her throat, Hermione leaned in to kiss him.

It was soft, at first. One slow kiss, two. By the fifth she was kissing him harder, deeper, with an urgency that had been building in her over the past week.

He met her passion, bringing his hands up to cup her face. His tongue gently brushed her lips. The second time, she allowed him in. While he explored, her insides melted.

A small moan escaped her, the sound of it jerking her from the moment. She leaned back to see Draco’s expression, but it was unreadable.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I don’t know why I…I mean I didn’t mean to – I know this is just-“

“Granger?”

“Yes?”

He gently pulled her chin down to him. “Stop talking.”

And she was swept up in his kiss again. A fire started in the pit of her stomach. One of his hands held her neck while the other began to wander up her thigh. His fingertips brushed the edge of her skirt and paused.

“Please,” Hermione breathed against his lips.

His hand slipped underneath the fabric of her dress, sending tremors through her body.

She moaned again.

This time it was louder and she turned her face to the side, embarrassed.

Draco seized the opportunity to plant hot kisses on her neck. This earned him more moans as the fire in her lower abdomen grew. She reached for his shirt collar and kissed his lips, a question in her eyes. Nothing in his expression told her to stop; she began undoing his buttons.

With his shirt and tie off, Hermione paused to take in the sight of him. Lean muscle showed from his shoulders to his chest to his abs. She traced her fingers along the curves and edges, spreading chill bumps across his skin.

“I want to try something,” Draco said.

The softness in his voice caught her attention. She nodded, uncertain but trusting.

He slipped his hands beneath her skirt once more, bringing his hands to her bum. A flash of surprise crossed his face at feeling her g-string. He started by stroking her cheeks, first softly, then firmer as it went on. His eyes focused on hers as he switched from stroking to kneading. He squeezed and rubbed her hard. He watched as she bit her lip in pleasure.

He drew a hand away and placed it on her back.

At first, she was disappointed. Then realized he was holding her so he could stand up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him as he moved across the room.

Her back hit a bookshelf. It was a little rough, and she liked it.

“Oh!” 

“Do you like this?” He asked, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

“More than you know,” she breathed.

She grabbed his wrist, moving his hand back to her arse.

Draco chuckled mischeviously. He braced her back against the shelves and began kneading her again.

“Oh that’s good,” Hermione panted.

“Yeah?”

She let a long whimper escape her lips.

She tilted her head to kiss him and slipped her tongue inside his mouth. Their kisses swallowed her moans. Her body ached for more.

Just then, Draco gave her bum a slight smack. She squealed in delight. He did it a couple more times before she broke their kiss to look him straight in the eye.

“Harder.”

His eyes darkened. “Madam.”

She felt his handprint on her bum as he smacked her harder. A stinging sensation ran through her cheek. The sounds he was drawing from her were turning her on more. The books behind her rattled slightly each time her back hit the shelves. Her legs shook from holding herself onto him, and her breath came in gasps as he repeated the process on her other side.

“Feels so good,” she panted. “Can I do anything for you?”

“You are,” he responded, equally as breathless.

Something about his response sent a strong, pulsing ache through her. She tilted her head to reach his neck and planted a wet kiss just below his jawline. She thought she felt him shudder. She kissed him in the same spot again and he scooped her up and moved her to a windowsill, the perfect height for her to sit so he could give his arms a break.

The cool stone felt good on her raw cheeks.

Her hands reached to run their way down his bare chest, his arms. Her hands trailed lower, pausing at the button of his trousers.

“Quidditch,” he choked out in a hoarse voice.

Hermione jerked her hand back as if it had been burned, but he caught it and pressed a quick kiss to her palm.

“I’m not upset,” he said. “Please. Please don’t think that I don’t want that.”

The look he gave her was fiercely honest, and she believed him.

He sighed, the waves of fire cooling down in them.

“Draco?”

"Hmm?"

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

She read the uncertainty in his face and her words came out rushed. “I mean literally just to sleep, not anything else. I don’t know I just…I don’t want to be alone right now. Not after..that.”

Draco’s body relaxed. After considering it for a moment, he agreed.

He held her hand to help her down from the sill, but didn’t let go right away. This sent a small flutter through her. He led her to small section of wall and pulled at a small book on a high shelf within his reach.

The wall slid back and away to reveal his bedroom.

“Wow,” Hermione breathed. “You’re just now showing me this?”

Draco scoffed. “I was going to show you earlier, but someone suggested we ‘practice’.”

She ducked her head.

Once the wall had closed back up, she surveyed his room. Clean, comfortable, but definitely luxurious.

“I expected it to be darker.”

Draco snorted in response.

He showed her where the restroom was and provided the time and toiletries for her to do with as she pleased.

When she got back to the room, she paused in the doorway. Draco was reading a book in bed. He had changed into a Henley shirt, and what she assumed was pajama pants, though the covers draped over his lap. Glasses on, hair still mussed from their library encounter, he turned the page. She tried to mentally sear the image into her memory.

In a sudden wave of timidity, she stood fidgeting in front of his fireplace.

Draco glanced up and inclined his head, indicating for her to get in. He smirked to himself.

“Thank you,” she said as she settled in next to him.

“For what?”

She thought about this. What was she thanking him for? Having her meet his mother? Snogging her beyond comprehension? Spanking her so hard the handprint would still be there tomorrow? Letting her stay? She swallowed, prepping for vulnerable words.

“For a lot of things… For being thoughtful, trustworthy. For spanking me.”

He chuckled.

“I’m serious,” her face was earnest, “Thank you, for all of it.”