Chapter Forty: Tuesday Afternoon

The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.

Beta credit: bunnyhops and CoquetteKitten.

 

They walked along until they’d come to the columned portico at the far end of the courtyard and entered it. It was even quieter in here, and with the privacy afforded by the large stone pillars it was easy to imagine they were completely alone. Hermione paused when they reached the steep steps at the back of the enclosed area. She wondered if Draco would want to sit, or—

 

He removed his arm from around her shoulder and gripped her by the waist with both of his hands. Draco swung her up a few steps, evening out their height difference, and drew her against his body. Hermione gave an approving hum and reached up to run her fingers through his soft, platinum hair. His eyes closed in pleasure as he dropped his head to murmur against the corner of her mouth. “I was cheated, little witch.”

 

“How so?” She whispered back, giving in to the urge to nibble at his lower lip. Since her fantasy of him in the shower hours before, her system had been laced with desire. It had continued to build within her after their kiss at the lunch table, despite their serious conversational topics. Now, realizing that they were virtually alone in the best of possible ways, her body was positively thrumming with it.

 

Draco’s hands were under her cardigan again, wrapped around her sides, and his thumbs were running up and down her ribcage in shiver-inducing lines. He kissed each of her lips separately until her mouth opened to him, but he pulled away. “Yesterday after lunch I was given to understand that I would not only have a visit with you, but that I would be sent another gift as well.”

 

He kissed her again, running his tongue against the seam of her lips. When she opened for him, he lifted his head again, smirking at her moan of frustration.

 

“I spent all afternoon with my hand in my pocket, running my fingers along the ribbons of the knickers you sent me.” He ran his hand down to her hip, pulling her torso flush against the hard length of his shaft. “Thinking of seeing you later.” He pushed his other hand up under her sweater to cup her breast over her dress, running his thumb over one already sensitized nipple. “Thinking of what I wanted to do with you.”

 

“Draco—” Her protest was swallowed by his mouth as he finally kissed her, swiping his tongue against her lip and then pushing it into her mouth in brief, teasing motions. The relief she felt was instant, but fleeting – now that she had what she wanted, she wanted even more. Her hands tugged at his hair, and he made a pleased sound.

 

Draco broke the kiss far too soon, but his thumb kept up its assault on the point of her breast. Her addled brain noted his technique was familiar. They’ve been talking about me. She struggled to follow his words. “Imagine my dismay when I learned that not only did my wife-to-be allow herself to be kidnapped, but she got herself quarantined as well – effectively ruining my perfectly laid plans.”

 

He gave one slow thrust against her middle, bringing her attention back to his erection trapped between them. My poor Draco, all hard and wanting. Hermione dragged her wizard’s head down to her level by his hair and tried to pour out an apology through her doting lips.

 

Draco pulled back when they were both out of breath. His ocean-colored eyes had darkened.   “It’s time to pay up, Hermione. I demand your time and knickers.”

 

“Anything.” Hermione gasped as he moved his mouth to her neck. He was pressing soft, wet kisses to the sensitive skin, and she was having difficulty thinking. “Only, I don’t have a spare pair with me.”

 

“Not my problem,” he countered huskily. He switched the position of his hands, and now his other thumb was moving over her other, neglected nipple, causing her to gasp and arch into the fantastic feel of it.

 

“Ooh. Mmmm. You can have the ones I’m wearing.” Just please don’t stop what you’re doing.

 

He froze momentarily, lips on her collarbone, and then slowly pushed his hips against hers with a deep moan. Hermione remembered the way they had wrapped themselves around each other near the lake a few days previously and wished feverishly there were some way they could do the same here. She wanted – no, needed – to feel him moving between her legs. Surely he needs it just as much.

 

Meanwhile, Draco’s hand moved away from her chest. Her mewl of protest was cut short by a sudden sideways movement, and she opened her eyes to find he’d shifted them even further behind the cover of one of the large pillars. He pushed her up against it, making sure she stayed on a step that kept her closer to his own height. He was looking at her with heavy-lidded eyes and his hands were sliding from her hips, to her thighs, to the hem of her sundress. His voice was deeper and laced with adrenaline when he finally spoke. “Yes, please.”

 

The stone pillar behind her was cold, but her shivers were completely unrelated to its temperature. Hermione closed her eyes as he kissed her hungrily and kept them shut when his lips strayed from her mouth, traveling down her throat to follow the chain of her necklace down to the dragon pendant. She felt him crush against her as he bent down, the column keeping her in place. His hands were making the return trip up her legs, this time touching her bare skin with the lightest of touches as he dragged the dress upward. When they reached her hips, he pulled back and looked at her questioningly.

 

She nodded her consent, watching as he pushed the skirt of her dress up to see the item he’d demanded. He knelt so that his head was almost to her midriff. His eyes followed his fingers reverently as they traced the spangled piece of cotton covering her mound. Draco ran a hand over her hip and used it to turn her around so she faced the pillar. “Hold this.” He pushed the handfuls of fabric into her hands.

 

Hermione felt his fingertips once again trace the pattern of sparkles on the cotton fabric, this time across her buttocks. His fingers followed the waistline of her knickers, then the leg openings from back to front. She jumped when she felt Draco’s warm lips press into the dimples in her lower back. “Turn around, please.”

 

She complied automatically, and knew she’d do whatever he asked in that tone of voice. He was still crouched before her, but now he began to stand up. His hands were on her hips, fingers hooking under the sides of her knickers. As Draco began drawing them off her, he engaged her mouth in a covetous kiss. She let go of her dress, letting it fall to cover her wizard’s hands. Over her hips the fabric slid until it fell from her thighs into a little pool around her ankles. Draco pulled away from her lips. “I believe those are mine, Miss Granger.”

 

He knelt again, lifting each of her legs to draw his prize from her body. Finally Draco stood, the scrap of cotton dangling from his forefinger. He looked down at her triumphantly.

 

She said awkwardly, “They’re a bit damp. I’d apologize, but it’s your fault.”

 

If she’d had any doubts at all of his desire for her, they would have been quelled in that moment. Draco’s eyes darkened, and he closed a white-knuckled fist around the knickers. He kissed her forcefully, pushing his tongue into her mouth once, twice and then drawing back to murmur against her lips, “Are you saying I made you wet, Hermione?”

 

He’d never said anything so crass . . . so overtly sexual to her before, and her body’s response was a rush of even more fluid between her legs. I want Draco to say filthy things to me. Hermione hardly recognized her own voice as she moaned his name. “Dracooo . . .”

 

She yanked at his robes, needing him to be even closer. His response was to pin her to the column, one muscular thigh wedged between hers. “Let me stand between your legs,” he said in a dark, desperate tone.

 

She’d barely bent her knee before he took it in his hand, holding it hooked around his hip. In less than a second his hips rocked against hers, and the hard length of his erection seemed to fuse to her seam despite their clothes. Hermione clung to his shoulders while Draco’s other hand grasped her arse, and they moved together in sensation so pleasurable it bordered on agony. His forehead pressed against hers, his breath hot and heavy across her face as he tried to speak. “Sweet. Circe. Hermione.”

 

The hand clutching her leg still gripped her discarded knickers. She felt the cotton fabric rub back and forth against the skin of her thigh as their bodies moved together. Draco’s other hand relaxed its grip on her backside and moved upward. He wove it into her hair and tugged at it, drawing her head back for a series of uncoordinated, rough kisses.

 

Hermione forgot everything else but the coil quickly winding up within her. She arched her back, aligning her body with his so that his erection rubbed in a soothing, maddening line from her center to her clitoris. She released her grip on his shoulder to grab hold of his hair again, pulling on the soft pale locks, and when he groaned into her mouth her other hand followed suit. Sweat formed along her upper lip and ran down the middle of her back, despite the fact that it seemed they had only just started. The coil wound tighter and tighter with each minute that passed, and she knew that release was imminent. “Mmmm, Draco, I’m— O-o-o-o-oh . . . Draco!“

 

The pulsing ache suddenly gave way to the earth-shattering relief of orgasm. She sagged in Draco’s arms as her body went limp. Her wizard thrust once more against her seam and went stiff against her for a moment, choking out her name as his hands squeezed her hip and handful of hair reflexively.

 

The two sank in a heap at the base of the column, Hermione straddling Draco’s hips. She kissed him in noodle-limbed euphoria, wrapping her arms around his neck and dropping her head to his broad shoulder.

 

Draco returned her attentions, pressing his mouth to her cheeks and mouth in reverent kisses. His entire body seemed as relaxed as hers, and his eyes had a languid, sated look. After a while he said, “That’s about seven down.”

 

“Seven what?”

 

“Fantasies.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

He dropped his head down onto her shoulder and spoke against the sensitive skin of her neck. “We’ve just done things I’ve thought about doing with you for years — trysting with you in the middle of a school day; running my hands up your bare legs under your dress; taking off your knickers; hearing you cry my name like that.”

 

“Mmmmm. That was only four.” She stroked his hair back around his ear, cradling him in her arms contentedly for a moment. Eventually, though, they both pulled away from each other apologetically, speaking at once.

 

“Sorry, but I need—“

 

“Draco, I—“ She smiled. “You go first.”

 

Draco was still flushed from their recent activity, but to Hermione it looked as though he was blushing as well. “I’m sorry, but I really need to clean myself up.” He was sliding her gently off his lap and standing, pulling her up with him. The blond wizard drew out his wand, aimed it in the general area of his groin, and muttered a quiet Scourgify. The young witch winced as she thought about her recent magical scrubbings at Lucius’ hands. She hoped Draco had used less vigor with that spell on such a tender place.

 

“I was going to ask you to do the same for me because I’m still wandless. Will you, please?” Blushing, she lifted an eyebrow at his satisfied smirk, and then followed his gaze to the lower front of her dress, where a traitorous trail of wet fabric marked their activity. Hermione groaned. “I don’t see how that’s funny, Draco! Please set me straight before everyone knows what we’ve been doing!”

 

She shifted uncomfortably. Her wizard leaned down to press a lingering kiss to her mouth. “I’m not laughing, little witch. I’m just very happy,” he paused to run his hand over the wet spot, making sure she felt his touch through her dress, “to have such an effect on you.”

 

Less than a minute later, sufficiently clean and dried, she sank back down onto a seated Draco’s lap, her legs spread around his hips. He pulled her as close to his torso as she could possibly get and wrapped his arms around her tightly. “I think I want to keep you right here from now on.”

 

“I won’t put up much of a fight. Although it might hinder the fulfillment of any of your other fantasies.”

 

“Excellent point, Miss Granger. Perhaps just a few more minutes, though.”

 

“Tell me the other three.” She studied his handsome face, tracing his features with her finger.

 

Draco caught her finger in his mouth, holding it gently between his teeth for a moment. He looked at her shyly and dropped his eyes. His fingers began toying with her dragon pendant. “I’m sure seven was a conservative estimate. Let’s see . . . well, the way you responded to my less than gentlemanly—“

 

Impishly, she interrupted his endearing effort to maintain decorum. “Filthy-mouthed Draco?”

 

He blushed. “Yes.”

 

Hermione dropped a kiss onto his beautiful mouth. She whispered, “I liked that. Tell me the other two.”

 

Her encouragement seemed to give him boldness. Draco’s voice came from the neckline of her sweater, where he was running his lips over her collarbones.   “Having you wrapped around me, pulling at my hair.”

 

“Well, it’s the perfect length to use for leverage. One more, Mr. Malfoy.”

 

Draco raised his head, looking directly at her. “Being kissed by you like that – being wanted like that. I’ve dreamed of that for years, Hermione.” His eyes burned her with their intense gaze. My Draco.

 

They curled around each other in silence for some time. Hermione’s brain resumed its usual whirr of thought, however, and finally she said, “You seemed vehemently opposed to . . . what we just did . . . just two days ago.”

 

Draco’s hand had made its way under the hem of her dress to wrap around her lower thigh at some point, and the other was running through her curls. Their end of the huge courtyard was still silent except for the sounds of their quiet voices. “I was never opposed to an act of such mutual pleasure. However, I’m not supposed to put you in any situation that could be compromising, and I think we came close to that today.”

 

“Yes, removing my knickers and then . . .” It was her turn to dance around words.

 

“Can you even say it?” He pressed a kiss to her neck.

 

His challenge hung in the air between them for only a moment.   “Of course I can! That doesn’t mean I want to.”

 

“Say it,” he dared, and she could feel his mouth curl into a smile against the sensitive skin behind her ear.

 

Fine, Draco. You stole my knickers and then we ground against each other desperately until we both climaxed. In a public place.”

 

Draco lifted his head and kissed her. His mouth was soft at first, plying her lips with gentle movements that slowly gained in fervor until their tongues moved against each other sensuously. She flinched when she felt fabric brush across her cheek, realizing almost immediately that it was her knickers, still bunched in his hand.

 

He was pulling away, eyes going back and forth between her own and the handful of cotton he was holding to her cheek. Hermione managed to tease, albeit breathlessly, “Now you have a pair for each trouser pocket.”

 

“That should suffice for a few hours.”

 

She giggled. “I’ll eventually run out, you know.”

 

“Not my problem.” He smirked.

 

Something was stirring beneath her, and she looked down at his groin, then up at his face. His eyes had lost that drowsy, contented aspect and were looking back at her speculatively. She questioned, “Really?”

 

Hermione expected him to blush, or at least drop her gaze. Instead cocky, confident Draco remained, to Hermione’s thrilled delight. He tipped his head forward, angling it so that his response brushed against the corner of her mouth. “Give me another minute, and I’ll be ready to go again.”

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