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: CoquetteKitten.

By the time Draco arrived at the official end of the party, Molly had wandered off to dirty-Floo Arthur, Minerva had returned to Hogwarts, and the rest of Hermione’s guests had all curled up for alcohol-induced naps. Ginny and Luna were wrapped in each other’s arms, lying on the couch across from her, and Fleur was under the low table between them. Only Astoria’s feet could be seen from where she lay beside the far couch. Hermione sprang to her feet at his approach, swaying dangerously. “Oops,” she giggled when he caught her in his arms, “The room tipped just then. Did you feel it?”

Draco sat down on the nearest couch with Hermione on his lap. “What happened to your friends?”

She crooked a finger, beckoning him closer until she was speaking against his lips. “Firewhiskey happened to them, Draco!” Her giggling must have been infectious, because he started chuckling along with her.

“Are you drunk, little witch?” He gave her a frustratingly chaste kiss.

“Oh, no, no, no!” She wriggled out of his arms and reseated herself to her own specifications – straddling his lap, dress hitched up to her thighs, and arms wrapped around his neck. “Well, yes. Technically I’m drunk. But it’s wonderful, Draco! I feel completely un- . . . un- . . . un-in-hibited, like we could talk about anything right now and I wouldn’t even blush.” She looked at him from under her eyelashes.

The blond wizard appeared to be at war with himself, but his hands were pulling her hips to his, and he was sliding sideways along the couch cushions until they were as far as possible from the dozing witches across the seating area. “What do you want to talk about?”

She leaned forward and kissed him – really kissed him – until he groaned into her mouth and gripped her backside with his large hands. Hermione felt his body respond at once, and she pulled away triumphantly. “You truly want me, don’t you?” She rocked her hips against his experimentally.

Draco’s eyes were glazing over rapidly. Hermione heard his breathing become slightly louder. She feigned a kiss and licked his bottom lip. “Do you want me, Draco?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “More than anything, but I won’t take advantage of you. You’ve had too much to drink, sweetheart.”

She pouted. “How can you take advantage of someone you’re almost married to? Besides, you could just as easily say I’m taking advantage of you.” Another almost-kiss, but this one resulted in her catching his bottom lip between her teeth, pulling gently. She let it go and murmured, “Will you let me take advantage of you, silly snake?”

Draco cast a cautious glance at the sleeping guests. “You need to be quiet, little witch.” He let go of her bum with one hand and grabbed her around the neck, kissing her roughly. Hermione moaned and inched until she had aligned her bare seam over his trouser-covered erection.

When their mouths parted for want of air, she put her lips to his ear and began grinding against him. “Circe, that feels so good. We’re going to have so much fun with the presents I got today, Draco. Ask me about them!”

Draco seemed to be having difficulty forming words. He was watching her with wild eyes and helping to move her body against his own. “Nngh. Nngh.”

Close enough. She continued to whisper in his ear. “I got naughty knickers, Draco. Would you like me to model them for you later? I’d do that for you. Oh! And sex toys – lots and lots of sex toys. Only we can’t use most of them yet because of the courtship rules.” She pulled away slightly and pouted at him. “No penetration!”

Draco nodded frantically as they moved together. He gasped out quietly, “Rule . . . number . . . one.”

She continued, “But oral sex doesn’t count as penetration, so we can start practicing that right away. Would you like that, Draco?”

His eyes almost crossed, and he gulped noisily. “Yeeeesss,” he groaned.

Hermione had a flashback to their earlier conversation and smiled wickedly, biting her lip. “Pay attention.” Her fingers moved to the buttons of her sundress and slowly began opening them. Draco’s eyes widened, and for one brief second he looked away to check up on the others in the room. Then he was focused on her hands again, watching her breasts peek into view.

“Hermione,” he whispered hoarsely, “please don’t stop. Please let me see you.” He took one hand from her hips and reached up to slide down the straps of her dress, pulling away the fabric that clung to her small, round breasts, and still he was able to keep his relentless pace in grinding them together. That’s how much bigger he is than me – he can manhandle me with one hand tied behind his back. Or attached to my breast. He’s such a superior wizard.

She shivered with desire, feeling her body begin to pulse with that aching need. He was watching her breasts bounce as she moved against him, his lips parted slightly. Hermione tugged him forward by his hair, saying almost soundlessly, “Put your mouth on me.”

He didn’t hesitate, but latched on to her nipple with a greedy sound. The fingers of his free hand stroked down her neck, over her chest, and toyed with her other erect peak. Hermione bucked against him in pleasure, forgetting to be quiet, but Draco pulled away immediately and stilled their hips. He looked at her in alarm. “Be quiet or we’ll have to stop.”

She nodded frantically. “I’m so close, Draco. Please keep moving.” The coil within her nether regions had reached the point of no return, and the pleasure was bordering on pain. Just when she thought she might die from need, arched against her wizard with her breasts pointing at his face, he leaned to take one in his mouth, nibbling it with his lips as he rolled and tugged the other one with his clever fingers.   Hermione’s orgasm crashed over her forcefully, and Draco followed seconds later.

They remained in their tight embrace for a minute or two after that, until Hermione giggled softly against Draco’s neck. “What’s so funny?” He sounded groggy.

She sat up in his lap, pressing her nose and forehead to his. He looks funny this close up. “Well, I cannot believe you thought I shouldn’t drink firewhiskey.”

“I stand corrected.” His hands came up and fondled her breasts, cupping their round weight in his large palms. He pushed them together slightly and leaned down to kiss the resulting cleavage. Looking up at her he added with a smirk, “Although I think you might have regretted going this far at the Slytherin party.”

Hermione hummed with contentment. “You’re right. Want to button me back up, or shall I?”

“Allow me the honor, Miss Granger.” His eyes twinkled dangerously at her, and she swooned. His fingers managed to touch more skin than anything else, but finally her dress was put to rights.

“I want you, Draco Hyperion Malfoy.” She giggled yet again, nibbling at his handsome jaw. “That’s such a funny middle name, don’t you think?” Her hands ran down his chest and stomach, gently stroking his softening penis through his trousers. He gasped, and she continued in a reflective tone, “Hyperion was a Titan. He fathered Helios, Selene, and Eos. Merlin, I want to have sex with you.   Just think – you and I are going to conceive the sun, the moon, and the dawn!” Hermione felt a change within her grip as Draco’s erection returned.

She looked at him in tipsy awe, but Draco was removing her hand gently but firmly. “That was inevitable, but we’re going to stop now.” He placed a sweet kiss on her cheek and moved her outward on his lap, away from the tent in his trousers.

“Oh,” she looked at him in confusion and then said brightly, “It’s my turn to do the next part!” She pulled her wand out of the side pocket of her dress and aimed a cleaning spell at his pants and her dress. “Much better.” She yawned, protesting when he slid her off his lap and settled her back on the couch. “What are you doing, Mr. Malfoy?”

He chuckled. “Leaving you here for a bit. Lie down like a good little witch.”

“Hmmmm. I like it when you’re bossy, Draco. It’s nice not to be the one in charge sometimes.” Her brain finally processed his words. She whined, “Why are you leaving?”

“Because I already want to do that again, and, unfortunately, you’re already falling asleep.” He kissed her forehead and gave her a blissful half-smile. “I’m going to have Trinket check on you girls in a bit, and I’ll come back in an hour or so.” He paused, smoothing her dress down over her legs. “That was completely worth braving the company of two Ravenclaws.”

She smiled even as her eyelids began to droop. “See you in an hour. “

As she drifted off into a light sleep, she was sure she heard Ginny remark, “Now that was hot.”

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

Hermione woke to find herself cotton-headed, cotton-mouthed, and alone in the main seating area of the Morning Room.   Eventually she became aware of the sound of a nearby conversation. Somewhere the girls were talking, and the sound floated through the air like distant music. She found them at the breakfast table, eating from a lunch tray heaped with tempting food and several bottles of what could only be Sober-Up Potion. Astoria and Luna were hunched over a magazine or catalogue, talking in excited tones, while Ginny appeared to be trying to engage a distracted Fleur in conversation. It didn’t appear to be going very well. Hermione drew up a chair beside her chaperone and began filling a plate. She tipped a few drops of the potion into her water goblet.

“What will you do after the wedding?” Ginny was trying very hard to be friendly, and her obvious effort was commendable.

Fleur sighed softly. Her hair had worked its way out of its braid during her nap and hung in a golden tousled glory over her shoulders. “I would like to return to my cursebreaking work. Now that I’ll have the Malfoy’s referral, I might finally stand a chance of being hired by Gringotts.”

“My oldest brother Bill works there – and as a cursebreaker, no less! Now that you’ve met, I’m sure he’ll put in a good word for you. You did meet, right? When you left with my mum toward the end of the party?” Ginny’s innocent look would have been convincing to anyone except those who knew her well. What is she playing at?

That caught Fleur’s complete attention, and as she whipped her head to look at Ginny, her cheeks flushed a faint pink. “Which one was Bill?”

“The tall handsome one with the shaggy hair and the air of danger and mystery.” Ginny looked as though she was trying to hold back the evil smirk on her face. “The fit handsome one that oozed confident charm was Charlie.”

Fleur seemed to get lost in her thoughts again, so the redhead turned to Hermione with the same devilish look. “That nap did wonders for you, ‘Mione. You’re positively glowing!”

Suddenly Hermione was reminded of the comment she’d heard as she drifted off to sleep. She was watching Draco and me! The curly-haired witch blushed and narrowed her eyes in warning, but couldn’t keep the smile from her lips. “It was a very good nap.”

Ginny indicated the oblivious chaperone with a nod of her head to Hermione. “I think I’ll just go check on Mum. I thought I heard her shouting outside just now.” Her eyes were gleaming wickedly, and Hermione shook her head in amusement. She’s going to hunt down the boys and ask them about Fleur, I’ll bet.


“Sounds good.” She swiveled in her chair toward the other two witches, and then swiveled it around again almost immediately. Circe riding Merlin’s broom – is that . . . She shrieked, “What on earth are you two looking at?!” Magical moving photographs make that stuff even worse!

Luna looked up with her usual sunny, slightly bewildered expression. “Hi, ‘Mione! Tory brought the latest issue of Incarcerous! We’re just finishing a pictorial article on-“

Luckily, her explanation was drowned out by several shouts from outside. All the witches except Hermione jumped up and ran to the French windows. The last time I disobeyed the rules, I got bitten by a diseased bitch. She wandered back to the middle of the large room, where the as-yet unwrapped Malfoy gifts lay. It seemed rude to just leave them there, disregarded, and so she Summoned Trinket. “I’m terribly sorry to trouble you, Trinket, but-“

The house elf waved her hands and shook her head sternly. “The Masters warned about this. This is Trinket’s House, and she alone will care for it.” It almost looked as though she was narrowing her eyes at Hermione. She added begrudgingly, “And Bowly helps – but only outside and with the books!”

She’s a bit like Molly.   “Errrrr, would you please put all the gifts in my rooms?”

“With pleasure! Remember, you will be Mistress soon. And Mistress does not worry about the running of this House.” She nodded meaningfully at Hermione.

“Got it. You’re the boss, and there’s nothing you can’t do. Thank you, Trinket.” As the little elf Disapparated with her typically cheerful crack, it occurred to Hermione that her S.P.E.W. campaign would have offended Trinket mortally.

The witches who had remained inside were now joined by Molly, Ginny, and Draco. Her wizard immediately made his way to her side, whispering in her ear, “When can we leave for the library?”

Hermione didn’t answer. She was watching Molly, Ginny, and Fleur. The older witch was clearly excited about something and whispering to Fleur and Ginny. Ginny wore a curious expression. Fleur, though – Fleur was in a reverent daze, eyes unseeing, lips parted, hands splayed in the air at her sides. She looked as though she were having a mystical experience. Something happened out there. Another quick glance at those three confirmed Hermione’s decision to ask Fleur about it in private.

Molly took care of this herself. She put her arms around the shoulders of Harry’s girls, saying, “It’s time for me to get back to work! The boys had to run an errand, so I’m going to steal Ginny and Luna to help in their place. No, no – no complaining, Ginevra! Astoria, I know the Notts have a different interpretation of the courtship rules, and so I’ll leave you to hunt down that chaperone of yours.” The motherly witch walked to where Hermione stood with Draco. “Come here, sweetheart.” She wrapped her in a wonderful, bone-crunching hug. “I’ll see you later, I’m sure. Have a good afternoon.” Then she was dragging the two protesting girls out the French windows, shutting them behind her.

Astoria stretched, closed her magazine, and stood. “Congratulations again, Hermione! It’s probably time for me to go as well. My chaperone avoids sunlight at all costs, so he’s quite easy to find – he’s always lurking in the potions lab.” She hugged her friend and continued in a hushed voice, “I’m not supposed to know about it, but my shower is tomorrow and your invitation is probably already on its way here.” At Hermione’s alarmed expression she added, “Don’t worry, Minerva isn’t able to attend mine. It will be a comparatively tame party.” With that, she floated across the Morning Room and out the door.

The curly-haired witch turned to her chaperone immediately. “All right, Fleur – spill. What just happened outside?”

The lovely blonde witch broke into her first truly happy smile since meeting her charge. She said unsteadily, “I . . . they . . . and then . . .”

Hermione shook her head in exasperation. “Absolutely not. Take a deep breath, start at the beginning and go slow. Don’t leave anything out.”

Fleur closed her eyes and did as she was told. “I met Bill and Charlie Weasley with Molly earlier this morning, and they were very . . .”

“Seeing as it was Bill and Charlie, let me guess – charming? Intriguing?” Hermione supplied with an amused eye-roll. Those two are incorrigible.

Fleur nodded, adding eagerly, “They didn’t seem to be influenced by my Veela blood at all. They liked me.” She blushed. “I liked them, too.”

“Sounds like those two. They’re great guys – I’ve always thought of them as big brothers.” Obviously that’s not what you’re thinking.

“Just now, Molly told me that they’d left to round up three more brothers.”

“That’s right – Percy, Fred, and George.” Perhaps the vestigial alcohol in her system was slowing down her thought processes, or maybe it was the combination of the nap and the rich lunch. Whatever the reason, Hermione was having a difficult time predicting where the conversation was heading.

Fleur smiled again, flashing perfect white teeth. “She said they’d all be going straight to the Ministry.”

All the Weasley boys gathering to go straight to the Ministry. OH. “You don’t mean . . .?”

The chaperone’s eyes were shining with unshed tears, and her smile was impossibly wider and brighter. “It happened. Hermione, I’m bespoken. Today the House of Weasley will cast stakes for me.”


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