Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Depressing, but true.
Oh my god you guys, this chapter is two times longer than I intended. I don't even know what happened to my brain. It was a full-on Dramione takeover. Thanks for being such superstar reviewers - I can't tell you how nice it's been to see your familiar names popping up again. The last dream sequence is based on a comment left by Mrs. Trax... I thought it was too funny that someone reading this had actually experienced crazy anti-malarial dreams, so I had to include a little something. I'm sleepy now, and I may tighten things up here tomorrow, but I didn't want to wait to post. Thanks again for being so bloody excellent. xoxo
Hermione found herself in a large, circular bathtub full of hot water, and nearly shouted with relief. Just to be sure, she lowered her nose to the surface of the water and sniffed.
Wait... Jasmine bubble bath?
"Why in Merlin's name are you smelling the bathwater, Granger?"
"Is there someone else you have erotic dreams about? If so, I'd really like to know."
He was sitting only a foot or so away from her in the water, his arm draped casually over the edge, his bare torso glistening with steam. One of his eyebrows was raised, indicating that he was waiting for her to respond.
"No, I don't have erotic dreams about anyone else," she said, annoyed. "And for your information, I was smelling the water because…."
"Um, because I was hoping it would be rum."
He looked puzzled. "I can get you actual rum if you're so eager to drink, you strange girl."
"No, not to drink! It's just that…"
"Just that?" In one smooth movement, he slid over and ran his fingers along her bare thigh underwater, nipping her ear lightly. Trying to stop her eyes from fluttering shut, she briefly considered shrugging his hand off, and then gave up. It felt too nice. Everything about him felt too nice. That was the problem.
"Yes?" he purred, sliding his fingers up her inner thigh, inching towards the prize.
"I was hoping to dream of something other than you."
The hurt on his face was immediate, and she winced, wishing she hadn't said anything.
"I see," he said, coldly, removing his hand.
"Don't take it badly – " she began to plead.
"How else am I supposed to take it? Christ, Granger."
"Look at it this way," she said, cupping his face and trying to get him to look her in the eye. He tried to pull away, but she held on tight. "You show up in my dreams, and I have no idea why. You… You do things to me, things that make me have feelings in real life. But Draco, this isn't real life at all. You're not like this in real life, or at least not around me. When I'm awake, the most we do is banter, so these dreams are throwing me for a loop. I've got no clue what's going on, and I'm really bloody confused about it, okay?"
He stared at her for a moment, and then broke out into a genuine smile. His face made her chest hurt. It was patently unfair for anyone to be that good looking.
"Really? You still haven't figured out why I'm in your dreams? You don't know why your subconscious keeps bringing me up?"
"Oh, and you know?" she said, back to being annoyed.
"Of course," he shrugged.
"This is your brain, Granger. I shouldn't have to spell it out for you."
"Well my brain isn't exactly being clear, is it? Are you going to tell me or not?"
"Sit on the edge of the bath."
"Would you stop bossing me around?"
"Sit on the edge of the bath please."
"I'm bloody naked."
"That's the point woman, for Merlin's sake."
"And then you'll tell me?"
With an exasperated sigh, she hoisted herself up onto edge, leaning back against the cold tile wall, leaving her naked body completely exposed to him. Steam rose off her skin as rivulets of water ran off her. She glared at him, unimpressed that he was withholding crucial information, while at the same time trying to hide her excitement about what he might do to her.
He looked at her approvingly, and glided in between her legs, stroking her opening softly with his finger. Somersaults jolted her stomach. Holy fuck. How was this not bothering her? She was spread-eagled on the edge of a fucking bathtub. Where was her modesty? Did it disappear when she fell asleep?
"Well?" she said, trying not to let him off the hook. He ran his tongue along her slit and her hips bucked forward involuntarily. "Ma… Malfoy, I'm talking to you."
"Maybe you should try not talking for a while," he mumbled into her pussy, his tongue running the length of her slit again. "I know it's hard for you."
Biting back a moan, she fought for control. Gods. Perhaps being awake was incredibly overrated. Could she just sleep all the time?
"You were going to tell me why I keep dreaming about you," she gasped. "Don't try and distract me!"
He made a humming sound that she felt all the way up into her ribs, and lapped at her, burying his face between her thighs.
"Mal – "
He dragged his tongue over her clit and she snapped her mouth shut.
He dragged his tongue over her clit again and she whimpered.
He continued in that manner for longer than she could keep track of, and her body began to flush pink, trembling and squirming and bucking and fuck fuck fuck what was he doing with his mouth? Wetness began to slide out of her faster and faster, and he met it with a pleased growl, picking up his speed.
"Malfoy," she bit out. "Tell me."
"Malfoy… I'm too close…" she gasped.
"Good," he said, his voice muffled. He lapped faster, harder, slipping fingers inside of her and pumping quickly.
"Mal – holy fucking – I'm going to - " He reached up and clapped his hand over her mouth as she detonated, releasing a broken cry into his palm and tightening her thighs around his head. It was all lights and dizziness, disoriented fantastical shots of pleasure ricocheting around her body. She writhed against his tongue, pushing back into the tile wall, letting the waves take her over. He hummed contentedly as she finished, and made one slow drag of his tongue all the way up her slippery centre as she shuddered and went limp.
She leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, her lids half shut. He stayed between her thighs looking much too pleased with himself, licking his lips.
"Well?" she said hoarsely.
"Well?" he whispered, pulling himself up to touch his nose to hers.
"Explain it to me, Draco. Tell me why you won't leave my head."
He looked at her mouth, running his thumb across her lower lip, and then kissed her. He tasted salty, and she was surprised to find that she liked it.
"You're in love with me, of course," he said.
Hermione sat up, drenched with sweat and panting. "What?!" she shrieked into the dark. The digital clock blinked 3:04 a.m. in jarring red neon light.
On her bedside table sat the medication, and she grabbed it with a growl, throwing it against the wall. Pills exploded everywhere, raining down on the floor.
"Sod this sodding shite," she screamed, jumping out of bed and stomping around her room. Oh no. No no no no no. That was quite enough of the anti-malarials, thankyouverymuch. These dreams were getting downright ridiculous. In love? In love with Draco Malfoy? How do you figure, brain? An anxious laugh snuck out of her mouth, and she snapped it shut before the laugh turned into hysterics.
This was too close to home.
Perhaps she just needed to leave.
The suitcase she kept for Muggle travel was jammed in her closet, and she pulled it out roughly, unzipping it and throwing it on the bed. In went her knickers, her swimsuit, a few books, a towel. She was pacing now, muttering to herself, pulling open drawers at random. Old pictures of her and Ron were scattered in one of the dressers, and she began to cry, no longer sure what was upsetting her more… Moving on from Ron, or these mind-fuck dreams that haunted her waking life.
I can't love him. I barely know him.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. Perhaps it wasn't even remotely true. School history aside, they had been working together for over two years now, talking nearly every day for the same length of time. They got along well. Very well, even. When he had to take a rare sick day, she missed seeing him around. His funny barbs and snarky comments were a definite highlight in the unglamorous world of contracting. When she left for a week last year to go to a rare book convention, he complained for a month about how bored he had been, and jokingly forbade her from leaving again. Officially he was just another coworker, but he was slightly more than that, if she was being honest.
"No," she said out loud, a little too harshly, chucking another few books into her luggage for good measure. "No. Not a chance." Placing her hands on her hips with a determined frown, she assessed the situation.
Well, she was nothing if not adaptable. The plan would have to change, that was all. Hermione grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment, sitting down abruptly on the floor to write. This particular note would be sent to her boss at the Ministry the second the ink was dry. He would have to be okay with it, because she wasn't giving him an option. No matter - he owed her more overtime than she could even count.
She knew where she had to go once the sun was up. Everything had to be ready by then.
"I'm sorry… I don't understand. You're going where?"
"The Bahamas," said Hermione. Her doctor tilted her head to show her confusion. "Change of plans," Hermione said hastily. "Just came in to make sure I didn't need to take anything before I left."
"And when did you say you are leaving?"
"Now. Well, the plane leaves in two hours."
"I see," said the doctor, visibly puzzled. "Well, luckily for you, your hepatitis and tetanus shots are all up to date, so you're fine to travel there."
"Excellent," beamed Hermione. She had actually chosen the destination because she knew she was safe, but it didn't hurt to be sure. "I'd also like to give these back to you. I won't be needing them." She put the malaria medication down on the table with an air of finality.
The doctor frowned. "Should I ask what's going on here, Hermione?"
"You could ask," she said, throwing her purse over her shoulder and opening the door to leave. "But to be honest, I couldn't really explain it anyway. Goodbye! I'll be gone for two weeks."
"Safe travels….?" said her doctor, but Hermione had already disappeared.
Hermione slid her toes into the burning hot sand for the millionth time since she arrived to the resort. She would never get tired of the feeling - it was pleasurable and painful all at once. The trick was to keep her feet covered until she couldn't take it anymore and then pull them out, cursing quietly to herself and letting her skin cool before repeating the process. It was a game that could hurt her if she didn't get the timing right.
Wasn't that just a fucking metaphor for everything.
She sighed, closing her book and looking out at the waves with a troubled expression. In some ways this vacation had been exactly what she needed, giving her perspective on her life, on Ron, on work... And on a few other things too.
The trouble with perspective is that it didn't always leave you with the easiest option. Sometimes it dropped you right in the middle of what you were avoiding and ordered you to fix it. Sometimes perspective was a vindictive arsehole that occasionally conspired with fate to make it all just a little bit harder. It was exposing the problems in her plans. It was poking at weaknesses in her armor. Not that she knew anything about that.
Hermione stood up and grabbed her towel, heading back to her room with her book under her arm. There was no point in forcing it - she wasn't going to get any more reading done today, not after what she had found this morning. What began as a completely innocent shake of her suitcase to rid it of sand ended abruptly as a small white pill rolled out onto the floor. Apparently she had missed one when the bottle exploded against the wall in that tiny fit of rage.
"Shite," she had whispered, inspecting the little pill. Should she throw it out? Or... Or should she take it? Just to see? Just to see him?
It had been a week and a half since she ran away from London, which meant she had three days of vacation left. Not a day had gone by where she didn't think about him. It was the truth, and it was scaring her. Not only that, but it was proving to be a rather giant problem, considering that she was going to be heading back to the office soon and she was in a worse predicament than before. She missed him, genuinely, and she didn't even have the benefit of the dreams anymore. She only had a strange nervous feeling in her stomach and an ache in her chest.
Worse, the real Draco had no idea what was going on. This was all in her bloody head.
Worse still, this pill was threatening to cock up all her careful avoidance. It gave her a tempting out: the option to have one more steamy night with dream Draco before marching back to reality. Frankly, the temptation was strong. Her feelings were a mess either way - at least with the pill, she had the likelihood of a mind-blowing orgasm before signing up for spinsterhood.
"It couldn't possibly make things worse than they already are," she whispered to herself, cradling the pill in her hand. "Right?"
Silence from the pill.
"I quite liked the library one."
The pill ignored her.
"Actually, who am I kidding... They were all very bloody nice."
She gulped it down before she had a chance to change her mind, and crawled into bed, quietly berating herself for actually being excited to fall asleep.
Hermione looked around. This wasn't right. She was in some sort of abandoned amusement park, and it was almost too dark to see. Where was his voice coming from?
"Coward," he said again, louder, and she could tell he was angry, moving somewhere in the shadows.
"Malfoy?" she said nervously, taking a few steps forward and then changing her mind, taking a few steps back. It was cold here, she realized, running her hands over her arms. Maybe this was a bad idea. "Malfoy, could you please come out?"
"Why bother?" came the voice. "You might just run away again."
She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, and realized how badly she had miscalculated. Not only was he angry, but he was hurt, too.
"Listen, I just needed some time to think," she called out, anxiously. "You sort of dropped a bombshell on me last time."
"Don't sugarcoat it. You chickened out." His voice was so close to her now, and she turned around quickly, hoping to see him before he disappeared again.
There he was, pacing. Beautiful, pale, black slacks and a black t-shirt, his jaw set firmly. Her stomach clenched.
"Draco," she pleaded. "You have to understand. We don't know each other that well - "
"That's rubbish!" he exploded. "That's rubbish and you know it. You're scared at how well you know me. You've been scared for years. Don't kid yourself, Granger. I see right through you."
Her cheeks flushed red, and she swallowed uncomfortably. Too close to home. "Look," she said, trying to calm him down. "I'll admit that we get along well at work - "
"Well?" he sneered. "Granger, we complete each other's sentences. Name one other person you can do that with."
Her cheeks flushed an even deeper red. He was exposing things she didn't want to deal with right now, things she had buried quite effectively and preferred to keep hidden. "Fine," she said through clenched teeth, "we get along famously, okay? But you can hardly call our banter - "
"Banter?" he said, breaking out in a dry laugh. "Love, you're brilliant with books, but unbelievably useless at reading people. You can't even read yourself."
"What is that supposed to mean?" she said, defensively.
"Have you seen me speak with anyone else at the office?"
"Of course I have!"
"And how would you describe my tone?"
"I don't know... Barely-concealed contempt?"
"Not bad," he nodded. "Now think back to our banter. You know normal people would call it? What most people at the office call it behind our backs?"
She blinked at him.
"Flirting, Granger. We've been flirting for over two years straight and you're too blind to realize it."
"Now hold on - "
"We use every excuse we can to interact. Admit it. You think I didn't see what you were doing with that Brinks file? I know you spent three weekends and countless nights doing overtime just to get it done. It was my responsibility, and you did it anyway. You went so far out on a limb to help me that you nearly fell off the branch."
Hermione winced with embarrassment. He wasn't supposed to know about that.
"I see how you look at me," he said, his voice low. He stepped closer to her, his gaze so intense that she was faltering under it. "There's no way you can miss how I look at you."
She ducked her head, looking determinedly at the ground, feeling more and more humiliated, close to panic. This was going all wrong. She had gotten past this. She had moved beyond this years ago. Hadn't she?
"Admit it," he bit out. "Stop hiding from me, Granger."
"You're a figment of my imagination."
"I'm very goddamned real. I may not be the Draco Malfoy you work with when you're awake, but I am Draco Malfoy nonetheless. You know me this well, Granger. You know you do. Now tell me the truth."
She took a shaky breath, but refused to speak, pressing her lips together.
"Granger..." he said, his tone all warning.
"I panicked!" she screamed, suddenly. "I panicked, okay? We started working together, and for some reason we clicked, and I started having these crazy feelings..."
"And then I buried them, of course! I was with Ron for Christ's sake... I wasn't going to break up with him to take a chance with you! I didn't know if you were still the same boy you were in school... I didn't know if it was just a crush gone off rails... I didn't even know if you felt the same way... I buried everything!"
"Well that worked well for you," he said, sarcastically.
"Piss off," she said, angrily, tears springing to her eyes and running unceremoniously down her face. "How the fuck was I supposed to know it would just get stronger? I kept burying it deeper until I thought I was in the clear. I'm supposed to be past this. It's been years, Draco, years since I let myself feel any of this. I couldn't risk it when I was with Ron, and I've been a mess since the breakup, okay? You want to hear the truth? Here it is: I fell for you, bloody well panicked, buried my feelings somewhat successfully, got dumped, decided to go to Malawi, and then my life exploded."
He exhaled slowly, seeming calmer now. Hermione, on the other hand, was a sobbing mess.
"These fucking dreams," she said, gulping in air. "I think they're trying to kill me."
"No," he said, moving her hair out of her eyes. "They're trying to show you something."
"I'm not ready to see it."
"I think you are."
She sniffed loudly and wiped her cheeks with her hand, looking up at him. He was smiling now.
"Why in God's name are you smiling at my misery?" she asked.
"Because you still haven't figured out the best part."
"Which is?" she said, dread building in her stomach.
He leaned in, quietly, and tilted her chin up, looking at her with his pale eyes. "I'm in love with you too, you silly bint."
Then he kissed her, softly, slowly, his tongue brushing hers, his hands caressing her face, her heart nearly melting out of her chest. She thought briefly that she might faint from the sheer surprise of it, but decided that fainting would reduce her snogging time, and was therefore an unacceptable option. Gods, but he was perfect. She could do this all day. All year. Maybe forever.
Jesus, she really was in love with him.
To her disappointment, he pulled away, gently brushing his thumbs over her cheeks.
"Oh," she said, dazed.
"Yes," he confirmed.
"What do we do now?" she asked.
"I believe the question is: what do you do now."
"You can't be serious."
"I'm always serious."
"Fine... What do I do now?"
"Figure it out, brainiac," he smirked. "See you on the other side." With that, he turned and began to walk away.
"Draco?" she said, hardly believing her eyes. "You aren't seriously leaving me here!"
"I most certainly am, love."
"Draco!" she shouted, angry now. "Draco Abraxas Malfoy, you turn around right this instant! You can't tell me you love me and then just... Just leave!"
"See? You even know my middle name!" he shouted back, laughing. "Come on Hermione. You know what you have to do. Aren't Gryffindors supposed to be brave?"
"I resent that!" she yelled, furious and confused and still reeling from the feeling of his lips on hers. "I fought Voldemort, you arse!"
"That's not what I mean, you daft woman!"
"Then what do you mean?"
"For Merlin's sake," she heard him mutter. "And they call you the brightest witch of your age."
With a pop, he was gone.
Hermione let out an angry scream and stomped her feet in frustration.
"Prat!" she yelled into the darkness. "How dare you leave me like this!"
Silence from the park.
"Wanker!" she shouted, clenching her fists.
A crow squawked in the distance.
"Cockmonkey!" she finished, confused now, and making up insults.
"Ooh, good one," said a gentle, lumbering voice from behind her. Hermione froze, having forgotten that she was still in strange dreamland. Anything could happen here. She could realize she was in love with Draco Malfoy, for example, after years of pretending she wasn't. She could also get mauled by whatever strange creature was currently emerging from the darkness.
A triceratops walked up and stood next to her, calmly.
"Well, he sure didn't mince words," said the dinosaur, pleasantly.
Hermione blinked again.
"Then again, you needed to be told. Anyone with half a brain could tell you were in denial. It's not a river in Egypt, you know. Get it? THE NILE? DENIAL?" The dinosaur chuckled to himself happily, snorting a bit, and then looked her in the eye.
"Sorry," he said apologetically. "I've always wanted to tell that one."
She tilted her head to the left. Something was very wrong with her mind.
"It's okay," she said. "Uh, Mister...?"
"My name is Ned."
"Of course it is."
They stood quietly next to one another, looking out over the amusement park. Ned chuckled to himself again.
"And you didn't even get any sex."
"Thanks for the reminder," she said, annoyed.
"All you wanted was a steamy roll in the - "
"That's quite enough."
"Just sayin'," said Ned. "Just sayin'."
Hermione walked determinedly down the hallway of cubicles, nodding amicably at her colleagues, but not stopping to chat. It was her first day back from vacation, and she had a mission to accomplish.
Her heels made no sound as they connected with the beige carpet, which matched the beige walls, which, shockingly, matched the beige ceiling. It was a hideous office, but the colour didn't bother her today. Normally it reminded her of baby vomit and bad Muggle talk shows, but right now this handy beige carpet gave her the advantage of stealth.
Coming to a halt at the end of the row, Hermione observed the cleanest desk on the entire floor. Everything on it was perfectly organized, the quills coordinated by colour and shape, the papers immaculately stacked.
She knew he was like this, of course. Completely, ridiculously anal about his things. She squeezed her eyes shut. Now was not the time to think about anal anything.
"Malfoy," she said to the blond head bowed feverishly over a complicated-looking document. He jumped, looking up at her with surprise, and she caught the millisecond of happiness on his face before he caught himself and schooled it into an annoyed frown.
"Granger," he said, coolly. "I see you've decided to return."
"Missed me terribly, I assume, even though you couldn't even be bothered to say goodbye, let alone tell me you were leaving for vacation two weeks early."
"Sorry about that," she said, guiltily. "Last-minute change in plans. I should have told you."
He shrugged, clearly hurt. "Whatever. I suppose I'm just your coworker after all. It's not like you owe me anything."
"Be that as it may, I still feel quite badly about it. I did miss you, of course."
"Good," he said, smirking. "As you should."
She almost sighed with relief at his sudden change in mood, but knew she wasn't going to get off that easily. There was a lecture coming. She would bet money on it.
"Do you know how bored I've been?" he said, starting into a lecture. "Two weeks, Granger? Were you trying to torture me? Palmer's been on my arse about all these horrid documents, the student has been messing up the filing system, and Mrs. Booth has been commenting on my... " He paused, embarrassed, leaning in conspiratorially with a whisper. "... On my bum, Granger. Talking about how nice it is. It's bloody creepy!"
"Well, maybe it is nice!" Hermione said, chuckling.
"Of course it is!" he said, affronted. "That doesn't mean I want to hear about it from someone old enough to be my grandmother! You see what happens when you're not around? I've been going mental!"
"Please accept my deepest apologies," she said in her most dramatic voice. "I brought you a gift, if it's any consolation."
"Really?" he said, perking up. "What is it?"
"It's a shell," she said, handing him a pretty pink conch from the gift shop at the resort. She had hoped to find him something on the beach itself, but it was terribly littered with beer cans and body parts of decimated crab. She figured that beach trash would not be the most popular thing to plop down on the desk of a neat freak.
He made a puzzled face. "You brought me a crustacean?"
"Oh, don't look so disappointed," she said. "There's something else, too."
He looked up expectantly.
"An invite to dinner."
The expectant look on his face melted off, replaced by confusion.
"Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"
Draco blinked. "Are you asking me on a..."
"A date," she nodded. "Are you interested?"
"Very much," he said, quickly, trying to regain his composure. "Yes. Yes, that would be fine."
"Lovely," she smiled. "We'll plan it out later. Drop by my desk, will you?"
"Yeah, yeah of course," he smiled, slightly flustered. "Uh, welcome back, Granger."
"Thanks," she said, trying to hold in her desire to run up and down the aisle screaming. "It's good to be here."
Draco threw Hermione down on the couch where she landed with a bounce, her jacket half off and her skirt askew, hair an obvious disaster.
"Holy fuck Granger, you drive me wild."
The date had gone well.
Advancing on her with a hungry look in his eye, Draco dropped his own jacket and began to remove his belt while Hermione shimmied out of her knickers, leaving her skirt on for good measure. He observed her actions approvingly, sitting down beside her and then pulling her on top of him in a straddle. She caught his lips in a fierce kiss, savouring his moan on her tongue. His palm came down hard on her bare arse and she whimpered at the pleasant sting, feeling his smirk against her mouth.
The date had gone very well.
She wasn't even sure why she was surprised at this point. They got along swimmingly, spending the evening in great conversation right up until the snogging had started. Neither of them wanted to say much of anything once that had begun.
He went to work on the buttons of her shirt, eventually getting frustrated and pulling the thing apart with a string of colourful swear words and the loud ripping of thread.
"Hey!" she panted as he pulled down her bra. "I liked that shirt!"
He took his mouth off her breast to remind her that he was a wizard, and that he would fix it after.
"Right," she mumbled fuzzily, before his lips captured her own and she was barely able to speak.
"Stay the night," she murmured against his mouth, deciding to take the chance.
"Hmm?" he replied, too busy with his tongue to form actual words.
"Stay the night."
"What?" he said, pulling back to look at her, his cheeks flushed and his hair sticking up in all directions.
"You heard me," she said again, trying not to show how nervous she was about his response. This would be an awfully vulnerable time to be rejected.
"Granger," he said, slowly. "You know I'd love to, but..."
"But what?" she said, the disappointment stinging her chest. "You mean... You don't want to - "
"Of course I do," he said, looking at her seriously now. "But there's a problem."
"Which is?" she said, her stomach sinking. What could it be now? He didn't have a girlfriend... Did he?
"Well... To be honest... I fancy you," he said, touching his forehead to hers with a sigh. "A lot. More than you probably know. And I don't particularly want to jeopardize my chances at a second date by moving too fast on the first one. Believe me, I'm not happy to be saying this. I mean, I hope I haven't already blown it with my, uh, enthusiasm... But... Well..."
Relief flooded her, and she beamed at him. That was not the answer she was fearing.
"Draco," she said, tracing her finger along the seam of his shirt, from his collar down to his pants. She felt him take a sharp breath as she reached his top button. "I fancy you too. I fancy you so much, in fact, that I can promise you a second date, and a third date, and whatever else you want, right here and now. That won't change if you stay the night."
He was breathing heavily now, looking at her with hooded eyes. She got the button undone and went to work on his fly, keeping eye contact to test his response.
"Granger..." he said, his tone all warning, his fingers trailing up and down her arm. "You know if I stay here tonight, some very naughty things might happen."
She smiled sweetly. Might was such a quaint word. "Is that a promise, Draco?"
His eyes widened and he groaned as she got the fly down, sliding her hands inside. "Are you sure about this Granger?" he panted. "You'll have a terrible time getting rid of me if you decide I'm not what you want."
She looked at him, and could see the uncertainty behind his eyes. He didn't want to be rejected. He didn't want to fuck this up.
Well, good. Neither did she.
"I have never been more sure of what I wanted, Draco."
His uncertain look changed to a smirk that was so sexually charged she felt her cunt tighten.
"Why Granger," he murmured against her ear. "It seems you've got quite an animal inside of you. Tell me, love... Do you think I can make you growl?"
"Why Malfoy," she said, wrapping her hands around his hard cock as he dug his fingers into her thighs. "I do believe you could even make me roar."