Hermione was never late.
There had been several times she'd narrowly arrived in class before the Professor began lecturing. She remembered once in first year when Lavender had miraculously managed to set everyone's alarms for p.m. Then there'd been the time in third year when she'd cut it extremely close to the start of Divination by only spinning the Time Turner twice. Mostly because she hadn't wanted to go. And then there had been one D.A. training in fifth year that had run over, and she'd had to sprint the entire length of the castle to make it to potions before Snape.
Yet still, every year she'd been at Hogwarts before the war, she'd never been late.
But eighth year? Well, her attendance wasn't suffering, but there would no longer be an award on the shelves of The Trophy Hall for her perfect punctuality.
And it was all Draco Malfoy's fault.
And the endless alcoves and cupboards that The Founders had seen fit to place around the castle. And the tapestries that had been hung a little too far from the wall in the centuries after the school had opened. And the roped-off areas of the castle that weren't too bad off after the war but could still use a little love.
And his firm hands. Draco knew precisely how to use them to pull her into or behind anything that he could so he could grab her waist, her neck, her thighs. So that he could hold her while they snogged or while he fucked her against the cold stone or a window as she watched students pass, hoping no one would see them but craving someone to watch. His hands were works of genuine magic. Especially when they were the only things keeping her from falling while he was on his knees before her, tongue finding purpose on a cunt that would only ever be his. Or her favorite way he gripped her: his fingers tightly buried in her curls with his head thrown back while she sucked him off in the darkness of an alcove or bathed in light that filled vacant classrooms.
His hands and determination were why she was here yet again in a cupboard with Draco Malfoy's lips on her neck and his hand up her jumper—precariously placed so he could tweak her nipples, unhindered by a bra because he'd told her not to wear one today.
"No bra. That's my good girl," he purred against her skin. Hermione shivered. "It's a shame to hide just perfect tits behind fabric."
"W-we have to get to class."
They truly did need to get to class. But the ghost of Draco's chuckle trailing over her neck, followed by the delicate caress of his lips, did little to make Hermione want to leave this alcove. No, it only made her fingers tighten around his tie. Only made her open her neck a little wider so he could run his tongue along that spot that never failed to make her core clench.
It hadn't taken long for them to find themselves in situations just like this. Maybe a month into term, she wasn't entirely sure. The first time had been immediately after an argument. Same with the second and third. But then Draco had sought her out, and things changed; in the long months since they'd explored more than she'd ever thought possible of two people. But even now, when they'd found themselves like this, he managed to find a new spot that made her ache with pleasure.
This time, it was a faint brush of his fingertips just underneath her breasts that made gooseflesh tingle across her skin. He always knew precisely what to do with his hands. He knew where to grip to make her sigh, knew where to caress to make her shiver, to make her knees weak. But best of all, he knew exactly where to rub to tease her, knew exactly where to curl his fingers to hit that spot inside her that made it impossible to stay quiet.
So when his fingers trailed down her abdomen, gooseflesh growing and not fading in their wake, her entire body shuddered with anticipation. Muggle jeans had confused him the first time, the second time a little less. But now, he was an expert at undoing her trousers for his fingers to find a home cradling the apex of her thighs.
"Are you sure we have to get to class, Princess?" He whispered, nose brushing the sensitive skin behind her ear.
"Ye-yes," Hermione responded but tried to thrust her hips forward against his hand. He only let out another deep chuckle.
"Doesn't feel like you're very sure," he murmured. "You're already soaked through for me. Even after the way I fucked you this morning. Just can't get enough of me, Princess?"
"N-no, sir," Hermione admitted, softly trembling hands sliding slowly up his chest to find a home around his neck. He groaned when she carded her fingers up through the hair on his nape.
"I couldn't possibly let you go to class like this. That wouldn't make me a very good boyfriend, would it?"
"N-no," she moaned, against thrusting her hips to feel friction. "It wouldn't."
He rewarded her this time, closing his palm around her. Moving just so as to put a tantalizing pressure on her cunt. She savored every moment, tightening her fingers in his hair to his groan of approval. To the way he showed his appreciation, teeth grazing her neck while his fingers worked against her core. She hadn't hated knickers more than this moment, yearning to feel his heat against hers.
"Do you want my fingers, Princess?" He murmured but continued before her hazed mind could even process a response. "Of course you do. You crave them."
They both knew she did. Made only more evident when Draco pushed her knickers to the side, and his fingers slid through her folds with ease, pushing into the softest part of her. Hermione didn't hinder the moan that rumbled in her chest. Nor did she try to hide her need. Her head tilted back, cold stone a bliss against her hot skin.
"Fuck, Hermione, you're so wet," he groaned. "Gods, all I want to do right now is fuck you."
He punctuated his words with a thrust of his fingers. And several more. Hermione welcomed each one, hips meeting his pace in practiced ease. Rolling when he curled his fingers, fucking herself when he played with her clit. And sweet mother of all magic, Hermione's eyes nearly rolled backward, legs shaking as his long fingers plunged inside her.
Then suddenly, she was cold, breathing heavily into the blank space he'd just occupied. It was so swift, Draco moving away, that she nearly fell over from the sudden loss of him.
"N-no," she breathed, trying to catch her breath and her footing at the same time. "No, wait, w-what-" But he was already standing near the door of this windowed alcove, adjusting himself. But he was watching her as he did it, unabashed lust and adoration in his eyes. "W-what the hell, Malfoy?"
"We need to get to class." Curse that blasted smirk that had been her ultimate downfall when this had all started. "Wouldn't want to be late now, would we?"
"Draco Malfoy!" Hermione growled. "You get back here and finish what you started!"
"Maybe later, Princess," he said, the epitome of cheek in his grin as he slid his fingers into his mouth. Gods, she loved the sound he made when he savored the taste of her, gruff and absolutely wanton. She hoped it'd make him reconsider and step back into her, thrust back into her. But he only opened his eyes, thick with lust, and said, "Don't clean yourself up. And don't be late."
And with that final command, he swept out of the cupboard doorway, leaving Hermione standing a soaking mess against the stone wall.
Oh, she'd make that ferret pay for leaving her here so close to release.
It took several seconds for Hermione to collect her before she could even think of leaving the cupboard. With a deep inhale to try and calm the need between her thighs, she cast a charm to hide the flush on her cheeks and made for the Transfiguration classroom - her originally intended destination.
He was already seated beside Blaise when she entered the classroom. He glanced toward her, lips curling upward. But both looked away quickly. They'd agreed: only in private. Only when their friends weren't around. It was easier that way.
That didn't stop her from sliding into the seat directly across from him in the stadium-style classroom. His eyebrow lifted when McGonagall called the class to order. She merely looked away toward the board, pulling her hair up to show off her neck - his favorite place to kiss her - and tugging her lower lip between her teeth - the act that drove him utterly mad.
It worked. Just like she'd known it would. A small slip of paper shimmered to life on her desk with his all too familiar handwriting.
Stop biting your lip, Princess. You know what that does to me.
Hermione tried to hide her grin, quill moving swiftly in reply. A discrete wave of her wand and the paper disappeared, making her heart beat slowly raise as his lips twitch when it appeared on his desk.
I don't think I will. I'm still so horny, Daddy. I can't stop thinking about how good you fucked me.
But the faint smile didn't last long. Draco's face had shifted to that dark place, to the wolfish way he looked at her when he wanted only her. When only she could soothe his cravings. Their eyes met briefly, enough that she could see the same lust in them from minutes before. Enough for him to watch her bite her lip again. Enough that she could feel herself yearning to be full with him. Her heart raced when he turned back to the paper, and it appeared before her once again.
Bite your lip again, and I won't fuck you at all. But perhaps if you're a good girl, I'll let you feel my cock inside you tonight.
It was her turn to shift in her seat under his gaze, trying to quell the throbbing between her thighs. But it was useless. Crossing her legs at the knees and slowly releasing her lip from between her teeth, Hermione scribbled a quick repl-
"Ms. Granger," McGonagall's voice boomed suddenly. Hermione jumped, slamming her hand atop the parchment, hoping it wasn't obvious. It had been. Her back was rigid, heart thumping suddenly for a new reason altogether when her eyes slammed to the front of the class. McGonagall was watching her, arms crossed over her chest with a disappointed look on her face that made Hermione flinch. "As much as I love your display of innerhouse unity, passing notes is forbidden in my class. Perhaps you'd care to share what you and Mr. Malfoy so urgently needed to discuss?"
Oh, good fucking gods. Hermione was going to retch. She shook her head vigorously. "N-No, no, ma'am, it's-"
"Go on," McGonagall said without pause, without an opening for Hermione to broker anything.
She glanced at Draco, and of course, there was a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. She'd find no help from him here. And even though her gaze turned directly back to the parchment in her hands, she could feel everyone else's eyes on her. She wasn't sure she'd even be able to speak. It felt like someone had poured sand down her throat. Regardless of how much she tried to wet her lips, they came up dry. Gods, it had to be because her hands wouldn't stop sweating. This was the worst moment she'd ever suffered, including the entire war.
Hermione couldn't take her eyes off the parchment, hands slightly shaking, as she cringed and began to read:
I can't wait for you to fuck me from behind, Daddy. Lay me down while I arch my arse bac-
"Merlin, Morgana, and Circe! That's enough!"
It had taken almost two complete lines for the shock that plastered itself to the entirety of McGonagall's face to give way to anger and her booming voice finally. Hermione thought the witch had even cast a silencing spell on her to keep her from reading more.
But it had been too late. Every member of seventh and eighth year mixed Transfiguration had heard every word she'd spoken into the near-silence, to a plethora of highly varied reactions. Somehow, as if everything were in slow motion, Hermione witnessed them all. One by one. Starting with Draco himself.
The tips of his ears were pink, the only sign of his embarrassment. Because he wore a grin so broad it likely hurt his jaw. He was watching Hermione and only Hermione as sound began to trickle throughout the room. As people began to murmur and move.
She watched Theo's face grow with pure delight before he wolf-whistled and slapped Draco on the shoulder in obvious congratulations. Watched Blaise and Pansy turn to each other, both looking far more impressed than Hermione thought they should. Pansy even mocked throwing her hand over her heart and fanning herself. Several other students Hermione didn't truly know looked stunned, but none seemed as shocked as the group of Gryffindors sitting around her.
Seamus and Dean alternated between surprise and appearing impressed, both joining into laughter as it sprang up across the room. The Patil twins looked mildly horrified. But it was Hermione's two best friends that wore the most profound, most expressive expressions of them all. Both Harry and Ron's faces were contorted in disgust or perhaps shock. Perhaps both. But Hermione only had a moment to see them before Ginny was on her feet, slamming her hand on the desk while shouting, "I bloody knew it! You owe me ten galleons, Zabini!"
That was the moment Hermione's world slammed into full speed once again, laughter and conversation filling the room with a cacophony of sound. It was brief, but it was loud, and she could hear her and Draco's names said more than once. Everyone's chatter and laughter were louder than the ringing in Hermione's ears until it wasn't.
McGonagall had definitely cast a silencing charm that time.
"Enough! Detention! Both of you," she boomed through the class. "Separately! And 10 points from both of your houses."
With that, the class remained silent because McGonagall hadn't lifted her spell. But Hermione couldn't look at anyone for the rest of the period. Especially not Draco. Yet she couldn't escape them forever, regardless of how quickly she tried to pack her things and run for the door.
Pansy's arm was looped through Hermione's before she even crossed the threshold. Her grin was broad. "I've got to admit, Granger, I didn't know you had it in you."
It was Draco's arm that slid around her shoulders a second later, tugging her away from Pansy. "Oh, she gets more than that in her-"
"Draco!" Hermione hissed.
"What?" He asked innocently, shrugging with a broad grin. "They already know now. What's that gonna change?"
"Now?" Theo asked as he appeared beside Blaise, both grinning broadly. "You think we didn't know?"
"As if you two were actually being secretive," Harry said as he and Ron appeared from the doorway. "We just didn't think you were that… involved."
"Oh, I knew," Ginny said, stepping out of the door with one hand in Luna's and the other outstretched toward their boyfriend greedily seeking her galleons. "I saw Hermione last week in the library sucking the ferret's coc-"
"Oh, my gods!"
It was Hermione who groaned aloud, unable to escape what would likely go down as the most embarrassing moment of her lifetime. But when Draco pulled her close and pressed his lips firmly to hers, hand cradling her head while several of their friends mockingly yet encouragingly cheered them on, she thought perhaps it wasn't so embarrassing after all.