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Presenting had come months after the war. It had been an unexpected storm, sweeping her up in the current and when it finally spit her out, Hermione hadn’t landed on her feet. She’d read about the designations briefly before Harry and Ron had presented, but she had expected to fall in the middle. Not at the top—not as an Alpha, no matter what her personality was like—and not as an Omega—because well, she couldn’t fucking imagine it.

She had been wrong.

Hermione was a classic Type A personality. She planned meticulously. She left nothing to chance. Not her weekly pickup from Flourish and Blotts. Not her projects within the Department for Magical Creatures. And she definitely didn’t leave her heats to chance. The first one had been similar to being slammed into a brick wall.

All she’d known was that her skin was on fire. She was suddenly, embarrassingly wet.

And she had the strongest urge to fuck Neville Longbottom against the nearest surface. Coincidentally, he felt the same.

So, when it came to her heats, they were scheduled in her planner. Three months apart, almost always starting on the same day each time. She submitted for time off from work accordingly, grimacing every time she had to disclose why. Hermione arranged for a partner as she felt necessary. It was awful to go through them alone, but take one encounter with Cormac McLaggen and the next time she had done exactly that.

Today’s date was circled in red in her planner, marked with: It’s time to stay home because you’re too horny again! Yay!

With that in mind, Hermione should not be out of the comfortable wards on her flat, but it was Ron’s fault. Of course he landed himself in St. Mungos, and she’s not going to not show up. Harry’s Patronus only said that he’d been injured on a mission, his knees blown to hell, and while he’d be okay, Ron was asking for her.

Ron was on a plethora of potions by the time she walked into the room. Clearly, Ron didn’t actually know who he was asking for, or that rather than asking for his actual girlfriend, Susan Bones, he had asked for his very much ex-girlfriend. They were still friends, still close, but some things were hard to work back.

“’Mione!” He slurred as she gently shut the door behind her. “You came.”

To his side, Malfoy scanned a form while scowling. He glanced at Hermione, eyes widening in recognition, and then the look was gone as quickly as it came. Then: “I told both of you that visitors weren’t allowed yet.” Malfoy glared at both her friends, and Hermione inched backward toward the door. “It’s fine, Granger. Might as well invite yourself in now. You have twenty minutes.”

He brushed past her, hand grazing her own, and Hermione leveled Harry with a harsh look.

“I can’t stay long. I’m—” She wasn’t going to say it. Despite being in their mid-twenties, both of her friends continued to act like children. They knew she was an Omega, knew what it meant , and they still turned the color of Ron’s hair at the slightest mention of her heat. It was pitiful, really.

Especially considering Harry was an Alpha himself.

Harry gave a clipped nod. “Sorry, but I thought you’d want to know.”

She did, but God, the timing .

After looking over Ron, and being satisfied with Malfoy’s work, Hermione sighed. “You’re going to be just fine, you know. Full recovery and everything.”

With a dopey smile, Ron asked, “Even my knees?”

“Yes,” she muttered. “Even your knees.”

“’S good,” he mumbled, head lolling to the side. “Susan has me on my knees a lot.”

Harry snorted, hiding his laugh behind his hand. “Shit, that’s funny.”

Her glare swept across her face in full force. “Oh, so it’s acceptable for me to hear about your sex lives, but you can’t hear mine?”

Harry clammed up, and the humor was sucked out of the room. “It’s different. You’re like a sister.”

“You’re like brothers. You think I fancy hearing about my brother’s conquests? How many times has Ron waxed poetic about a witch’s tits, Harry?”

“Please don’t say that word.” Ron groaned.


“Tits. Tits. Tits.”

Harry covered his face and moaned. “You knew she’d repeat it if you told her not to!”

“And you!” Hermione snapped, pointing a finger at Harry. “You have told me far more about Pansy Parkinson than I have ever wanted to know in my life. She tastes like peaches, you know? I could have fucking Obliviated myself after that one!”

“Okay, that was a bit far, I’ll admit. But you… You fucked Viktor for months, and I’m sorry, but I cannot hear a single thing about him. I go to his games, ‘Mione. I don’t need to know about his—”

“Broomstick?” Hermione supplied unhelpfully. “Thick, if you must know.”

“I must not!”

Ron made a sound that was half laugh, half sob. “God, you fucked Krum. That’s the worst. He was my hero when it came to quidditch.”

“Yes, well, he’s very dedicated on and off the pitch.” Hermione snarked. It served them right. “Well, I’m very glad you’re going to be okay, Ron.” She dropped a kiss on his forehead. “If anything happens, do not contact me. I will be out of office and mindlessly horny for several days.”

“HERMIONE!” Harry gaped at her. “Good fuck, you are something else.”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione pecked him on the cheek and slipped out of the door. Already, she could feel her skin growing warmer, and she really, really needed to get home. It’d take a minute at most to reach the lift, another to hit the ground floor and then not long before she stepped outside of the hospital so she could apparate.

Still, she walked briskly, narrowing avoiding a healer that wasn’t paying attention.

Hermione stepped into the lift, and pressed the button only to hear someone yell, “Hold the door!”

As Malfoy came into view, she regretted it. She didn’t dislike him.

He was fine. A brilliant healer from what she’d heard, and would be moving to a position as a senior healer before he turned thirty. He was fine . Malfoy just— He set her on edge, had since their final year of Hogwarts. She couldn’t place why.

Malfoy glanced at her, and she folded her arms across her stomach.

The burn upped itself. Sweat began to bead along her brow.

“Are you alright?” His voice was low, a delicious baritone, and fuck, she was going to lose her mind.

They dropped to another floor.

“I’m fine,” Hermione said tightly.

He didn’t look like he believed her. “Weasley’s going to be fine. He’s sustained much worse injuries than this.” It shouldn’t be endearing that he thought she was worried about Ron, and he wanted to reassure her.

"I know,” Hermione muttered. “I’m not feeling well is all. It will be fine once I’m home.”

Scoffing, Malfoy easily drawled, “It might have escaped your notice, but you are in a world class medical facility. If you’re not feeling well, you’re already in the right place.”

“Oh, just a fever,” Hermione shrugged. “I’ll take a potion at home and sleep it off.”

God, it was taking forever to hit the bottom floor.

The lift slowed, and wasn’t that just her luck?

“A fever?” he deadpanned. “Come here.”

She flinched away from him. Designations were very much public knowledge—they were impossible to hide—and the wizard standing by her was an Alpha. It hurt to admit it, but Hermione didn’t particularly trust her self-control right now. “I’m fine. Really. Nothing to worry about.” Hermione smiled.

It must not have been believable because he laid the back of his hand against her forehead.

He swore. “You’re burning up, Granger.”

Well, at least he didn’t know why.

Fuck , he didn’t know why, so he would be adamant in trying to help her.

The lift came to a sudden stop, and Hermione pitched forward.

Malfoy’s hands came up to catch her by her upper arms, and she squeezed her eyes shut. His hands felt nice. Cool to her flesh, and she wanted his hands to wander over her.

That was dangerous.

“The lift has been out of order all week,” he explained. “I’m sure it will be fixed in no time at all.Though, last time it took an hour.”

She tried not to make a sound, but a whimper slid between her teeth. “I don’t have an hour.” Hermione whispered. Hiding her face in her hands, Hermione moaned pitifully, “I knew I should have stayed home.”

“Granger?” He steadied her. “Your fever must be worsening, because you’re not making much sense. When we get out of here, I’ll look you over, alright?”

There were anti-Apparition wards around the hospital, Hermione knew.

She’d take splinching herself over this though.

Minutes passed, and Hermione leaned against the wall, praying that it would only take minutes to fix.

Malfoy spoke into the intercom, voice growing more and more frustrated, and she knew this was not going to be a simple resolution. Nothing ever was, with her rotten luck. “Granger—” He stopped. Malfoy bodily froze, and she watched him inhale slowly. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

She sank to the floor, laying her forehead on her knees. “I told you I needed to go home.”

“You told me you needed to sleep it off .” He snarled. “Fucking Christ, you’re going into heat. Why are you even here?”

“Well,” she glared at him. “Harry made it sound like it was more important than it was, and if it weren’t for your shoddy lift, I wouldn’t have to worry! I would be home, taking care of this .” She waved her hand around herself. “So, don’t snap at me.”

“Right,” his voice was acidic. “Because it’s somehow my fault the lift is broken.”

Her voice was muffled against her knees. “Great, glad you understand that it’s your fault.”

He swore again. “You’re as irritating as ever.”

“Your face is pointy.” She glanced up at him, catching his incredulous look. “I thought we were saying things we already knew.” Despite the situation, she laughed. “I’m sorry you’re trapped in here with me. Just— Stay over there, yeah?”

He pressed the intercom again, and growled, “This needs to be fixed immediately. There is an Omega trapped in here, with me , that is going into heat.”

“Oh yes,” Hermione groaned. “Please tell them everything. You might as well tell them I’m going to jump your bones in twenty minutes time while you’re at it.”

“I am,” he sniffed again and shuddered. “I am trying to create urgency around the situation, you bint.” Malfoy almost smiled when she shot him a foul gesture. “So, you’re going to jump me?”

Hermione’s face remained neutral when she looked at him. “Have you ever been around an Omega?”

“I have.”

“Have you ever been around one when they go into heat?”

He rolled his eyes. “My ex-girlfriend was an Omega. Yes, Granger, I’m well aware of what it entails considering that while I’m my designation, I am also a medical professional.”

“Great. Did your medical training teach you how to fuck?”

He gaped at her. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m tragically horny, thank you.”

“Are you always this forward?”

Hermione looked at him. “I think you know the answer to that.”

He sat on the floor, putting as much space as he could between them. Granted, it wasn’t much and it wouldn’t be nearly enough.

A voice crackled through the static of the intercom. “Maintenance is estimating it will take an hour to fix, Healer Malfoy.”

Hermione wanted to cry.

Malfoy didn’t raise to reply to the person, and his face softened when he looked at her.

“You know,” she wiped her eyes. “The only part that bothers me is that I lose control of my body. I’ve gotten to where I’m still myself during this, but it doesn’t matter that I have never wanted to sleep with you, I’m probably going to beg you anyway.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. If there were anything I could do, I would.”

She nodded.

Hermione swallowed. These were her last moments of total clarity, and she might as well make the most of them. “Malfoy— Draco, I won’t be able to control myself.”

“I’ll do my best to resist,” he said it so honestly.

“Am I unattractive to you?” she blurted. “I mean, I know you’ll be attracted to me when I’m in my heat fully, but right now—”

He sat quietly for several beats. “At the risk of embarrassing myself,” Malfoy tilted his head back, let it hit the wall. “I find you very pretty.”

There was a lump in her throat. Lead in her stomach.

“You’re…” Hermione trailed off. “You’re rather fit. It’s obnoxious, really.”

He managed to smirk, but the usual smugness had evaporated. “How fit am I exactly?”

She countered, “How pretty am I?” Only, Hermione didn’t expect him to answer. Not really.

Malfoy didn’t fully meet her eyes. “You make my mouth water, and not because you’re…”

“Don’t tell me you’ve felt that way—”

“I answered your question. You can answer mine.”

Fuck. How had this turned into her night?

“Well, there’s no doubt I will be praising you in a very in depth way here shortly, but extremely fit. Honestly. I don’t know what it is you do in your spare time, but combine that with your size and…” She cleared her throat. “I dated Viktor Krum for several months, who is also nice to look at, but—”

He was fully smug now. “Am I more fit than Krum?”

“Oh, I’d rather not hurt your feelings.” Hermione teased. “Possibly.” She smirked. “Likely. I don’t know, you’re wearing too many clothes.” Her mind was cloudy. She wanted to peel his clothes off.

It wouldn’t be long now. She needed to make her point.

“So, we’re attracted to each other then.” Hermione said clearly. She gripped her thighs, and fought the urge to crawl toward him. “Then, this could be mutually beneficial.”

He blinked.

A minute passed.

“Are you propositioning me?”

Hermione snorted a laugh. “Well, I’m probably not doing a good job if you can’t tell.”

His face darkened, eyes narrowing, and Malfoy tilted his head to the side. “Granger, are you really thinking this through?”

“For now,” she said. “I’m extremely practical. I usually do find a partner before my heats come, but I’d planned to go through this one alone. If this attraction isn’t one-sided, I don’t see a reason not to indulge.”

His lips parted.

She wanted to kiss that mouth.

“Not one-sided,” he rasped with some difficulty. “They’re going to fix the lift though, probably while we’re in the middle of fucking.”

Hermione smiled, and he looked afraid. “Well, as long as you haven’t knotted, it will probably be fine. I’ve been walked in on, but that would be rather embarrassing.”

“Oh, fucking hell,” he groaned. “And the rest of your heat?”

She waved a hand easily. “Well, you’ll probably have to take me home because if you just leave me, I’ll latch onto someone else.”

A low, brutal growl began in his throat. A warning.

“So, if you’d take me home first, I would appreciate it. But if you choose not to stay with me, I wouldn’t be upset. Well,” she tapped a finger against her chin. “I’d probably cry when you left me. It’d be ugly, me clinging to you, but once my heat was over, I would understand. I’d probably send you a gift out of humiliation.”

He tugged at his collar. “I wouldn’t leave you.”


Malfoy loosened his tie. “Granger, if you think I could walk away from you, you are incredibly dense.”

She couldn’t help it, Hermione settled on her knees, and crawled over to him. He looked fearful of her, and Hermione wondered if for once, she was actually the one in control now. She leaned close to him, on her hands and knees, and Hermione’s face hovered in front of his. “Is that because I’m an Omega, or because I’m me?”

When he gulped, it felt like a victory.

“You know, I thought you didn’t like me very much.”

“I find you very annoying,” he admitted. “That has no influence over whether I want to bury myself in you.”

Her skin warmed, and she knew color had poured into her cheeks. “And just how long have you thought this?” Hermione draped herself across him, straddling his waist. “Draco?”

“Fucking Christ,” he groaned. Draco’s hands came to rest on her waist. “I don’t— Fuck , stop rubbing yourself on me.”

She did it anyway, just to hear him choke. “You don’t like it?”

“Good God, are you pouting ?”

It was a struggle not to smirk.

“Yes, I like it very much.”

Hermione traced his mouth with the tip of her finger. “I asked you a question.”

He cleared his throat. “Huh?” Draco’s eyes were glossy; he was dazed. “I don’t know, Granger.”

“Hermione,” she corrected gently, tugging his lower lip down with her thumb. “If you want my cunt, you have to call me Hermione. It’s only polite.”

“Polite,” he repeated.

Hermione pulled his tie from his throat, and pushed his robes from his shoulders. “You want to be polite to me, don’t you? If it means you can knot me?”

There was that choking sound again. “I’m beginning to think you’re the Alpha here, not an Omega.”

“Oh,” she sighed. “That would be fun to watch you beg, but no, I will definitely be a mindless witch in your arms very soon. How long, Draco? Focus.” Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned her forehead to his.

He stumbled over his words, because she ground down against him, and she felt him already against her thigh. “Months,” he finally said. “You were here often over the summer when Potter was injured. I would walk in and find you slumped in the chair. I used to cast a warming charm on you because you shivered.”

Hermione froze. That , she hadn’t known at all. “Really?” She whispered.

A bit dumbly, he nodded. “Granger,” he whispered, as she brushed their lips together. His hands tightened on her hips. “I’m definitely going to fuck you.”


“I’m rather looking forward, if that wasn’t clear, but if you’re…”

She crushed his mouth to hers. “Are you going to ask me out, Draco?”

“Well, everything has turned out to be backwards, but—”

Humming against his mouth, Hermione sank her fingers into his hair. “The answer is yes. You can take me to breakfast when this is over.”

“Thank fuck.” His arm locked around her, and his hips lifted to meet her.

“Then,” Hermione breathed. “You can take me to dinner, and you can fuck me after.” She made quick work of his shirt, flattening her palms across his chest.

He yanked her jumper over her head, and Hermione felt the fog set in fully. She glanced at him.

She wanted him over her, buried in her cunt, fingers tangling in her hair. She wanted him to leave bruises where his mouth trailed, bruises in the shape of his large hands.

Hermione unclasped her bra, and whimpered when his hot mouth closed around her nipple. “Oh,” she moaned, knotting her fingers in his hair and pulling. “Draco.”

He tore her skirt after fighting with a stuck zipper. Draco’s fingers slid between her legs, and he slowly dragged them up her slit. “You’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you?” She liked the growl in his voice, but she loved the way two fingers pumped into her, all the way to the knuckles. “Such a pretty witch sitting in my lap.”

Anyone could hear her moaning. There were no silencing charms.


He was hers, might as well make sure anyone else knew it too.

“Is this for me, sweetheart?” He licked between her breasts, his free hand coming up to cup the back of her neck. “Is this wet, little cunt just for me?”

“Yessss.” Hermione sighed. She rode his hand, pressing her mouth to his neck and sliding her tongue along that sensitive gland.

His thumb brushed her own and she saw stars behind her eyelids. “You weren’t lying,” Draco rasped. “You are a desperate, greedy little thing.”

She flashed him a grin, and it was the smallest trace of how she really felt.

“I want my tongue on your clit,” he whispered, and his fingers curled inside her. “Want that dripping cunt against my mouth so I can taste you.”

Hermione shook her head, and he gave a low laugh when she argued, “No, want your cock.” She arched her back, nails cutting into his shoulders. “I need it, please.”

“I’ll give you my cock,” Draco’s voice was soothing and frustrating all at once. “If you give me something first.”

She whined. “No, please, just—”

Brushing her hair from her forehead, he pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I promise you’ll love it. Then you can have my cock as many times as you want.”

As many times as she wanted?

Hermione bit her lip.


Draco nodded, his eyes darkening, and his thumb pressed to her clit. He rubbed slow circles, driving her closer and closer to the edge. “I want you sitting on my face, Hermione. I’d like to feel you writhing while you try to hold yourself up.”

Her eyes were heavy lidded as she stared at him.

“Can you do that for me?

Hermione nodded eagerly. She scrambled off of him, and let him position her. Not that she had much of a choice. He took hold of her and put her exactly where he wanted. She straddled his face, cunt pressed to his already moving tongue, and it felt so good she could cry.

She leaned over him, unbuttoning his trousers and dragging his zipper down carefully. His cock was thick in her hand, and Hermione licked the tip.

“Fuck,” he moaned.

A bit smug, Hermione wrapped her lips around the head and slowly took him into her mouth. Licking him slowly, and taking her time to follow a thick vein with her tongue.

He gripped her arse, kneading her skin, and Hermione rocked against his mouth. She whimpered, and sighed, but her sounds were muffled with his cock in her mouth.

He brushed the back of her throat, and she felt him groan against her thigh. Then he nipped her there, teeth breaking skin, and she felt his tongue flatten against that spot.

Hermione sat up, still stroking him, and rubbed her clit against his tongue. “I want you to bite me.” The admission was breathless, and needy. “I want you to bite me so badly.”

His grip tightened.

She went a bit further, waded into her already there desperation.

“You could knot me,” Hermione moaned, swiping her thumb across the head of his cock. “And then you could sink your teeth into my gland. I would come so hard. All over your cock, I promise.”

Draco sucked her clit, teeth grazing her just enough that it sent her into a free fall.

She knew she screamed.

She vaguely recognized that everyone in this hospital knew who was fucking her now, if they hadn’t already.

Hermione turned, and slid down the curve of his body. Pressing their pelvises together, she felt his cock rest against her folds, and she rubbed herself against him. “Please. Please.”

“God, you’re a good girl.” Draco’s voice was raw, and he propped himself up to look at her. “Such a pretty girl for me. You want to sit on my cock, is that it?”

“You promised.” Hermione sighed, rubbed herself against him again. “Please, you promised me.” Reaching between them, she lined his cock with her entrance, and held his gaze as she slowly slid down his length. She whimpered at the stretch. “Your cock feels so good. So fucking good.”

She’d been fucked into the floor before, Hermione thought through the haze. She’d given up control entirely before, but this— He—

Draco only watched her. He didn’t lift his hips to thrust into her.

He let her take it and it was nice until he was fully seated inside her.

Hermione kissed him frantically, hands wandering his hard chest, and she slowly slid up and then slammed herself down. “I want you to fuck me now.”

He smirked. “Yeah?”

She nodded, nuzzling his throat. “I want to feel how far you stretch me,” Hermione bit him lightly. “I can take it, I promise.”

Hermione, as it turned out, promised a lot of things during a heat.

All of the promises were filthy.

Draco turned them, pressing her to the floor, and she watched him grab his wand for a cushioning charm, and suddenly, the floor wasn’t so hard.

“So thoughtful,” she murmured, absentminded, tracing the Sectumsempra scar.

Grinning wildly, he said, “Yes, well, you’ll find that you’re going to need it.”

Draco slammed into her, gripping her hip as he did, and Hermione shrieked, “Fuck!” She scratched his chest. His back. His forearms. Anywhere she could fucking reach. “Draco. God, fucking—”

“Dirty mouth,” he murmured next to her ear. “I bet I could find a way to keep you quiet.” His tongue traced patterns on her throat. “I don’t think I will though. I like you loud.”

He withdrew from her nearly entirely.

“I happen to like you when you’re brash too. Utterly righteous while you’re at it.”

She panted.

All of his words sounded so nice.

“I even like you when you’re fucking insufferable.” Draco lifted her legs over his shoulders, and drove himself into her. “That’s it. Let me hear you scream, sweetheart. You sound so pretty when you do.”

It’s never been like this before.

This was different.

Maybe heats were always all encompassing, but Hermione felt like she was viewing herself through a mirror rather than a fog. She wanted to hold onto the moment. She didn’t want to forget anything.

Hermione gripped his forearms, moaning and twisting against him while he took her. “I want you to knot me.”

“I will.” He groaned. “I’m going to stretch you so well, Hermione.”

She could feel his knot as it began to swell, and his thrusts began to slow.

Pressing his fingers to her clit, he watched her eyes glaze over as her breaths stuttered. “That’s it.” He cooed. “Let me see you fall apart around my cock.”

Hermione mewled, and buried her face in the curve of his neck. “I love it. I love how you feel and—” She broke apart around him, squirming in his arms, and clawing at him. “Draco…”

“God, I’m going to fill your cunt,” he told her quietly. “And when we finally get out of this fucking lift, you’re going to walk out the door with me while my come is dripping out of you.”

Draco gripped the back of her neck and kissed her when he came. He groaned against her mouth.

She felt the muscles in his back relax, and Hermione pulled back to look at him.

The dream-like state wasn’t gone, but it had lessened with taking his knot. Hermione swallowed. As confident as she had been earlier, she knew now that this was much more than just a simple fuck to get through a heat cycle.

Hermione whispered his name.

He smiled a bit.

“We could have been doing this since the summer if you’d asked me out.” Draco rolled his eyes. “I would have said yes.”

Draco didn’t respond to that, but he did take his time licking her breasts while they waited for his knot to soften. He took care to drag his tongue across her glands, and stroked every inch of her.

It was minutes after he withdrew from her that an extremely hesitant voice trickled through the intercom. “Healer Malfoy,” someone cleared their throat. “We’ve repaired the lift, but perhaps you’d like to just use the Floo in your office?”

Hermione giggled against his shoulder. “I imagine everyone in the hospital heard you.”

He coughed. “No, they heard you screaming about how thick my cock was and how good it felt when I split you open.”

She couldn’t manage to be embarrassed.

Raising his voice, Draco said, “Yes, we’ll use my Floo.” He dressed her quickly-repairing her torn skirt, and then dressed himself. When he took her hand, Hermione was ready to fuck again, but he grumbled, “They’re not going to let us stay in here for your entire heat, Hermione.”

“I bet you could stop them.” She rubbed her cheek against his bicep. “Couldn’t you? You wouldn’t let anyone come near me.”

He shivered. “Too right, but instead of having to fight several wizards, I’m going to take you down the corridor, and fuck you over my desk. I can tell you’re already greedy for my cock again.”

Hermione listened as the doors slid open, and Draco yanked her out of the lift. His colleagues stared, but Hermione only kept her head down.

“Then,” he murmured, low enough for only her to hear as he led her into his office. The door clicked shut. He lifted her skirt to her waist. “I’m going to take you to yours or mine, I’m sincerely not picky, and fuck you until neither of us can remember our goddamned names.”

He sat her on top of his desk, and spread her legs. Warmth spread through her as he slid into her, and she held her breath.

“And then?” Hermione was grinning. Ear to ear.

“And then,” he slid fully into her again, earning that slow moan that tumbled from her mouth. “I’m going to take you to breakfast. Possibly in Paris.”

She threw back her head and laughed. “Okay. Breakfast in Paris,” Hermione agreed easily. “As long as you fuck me during breakfast too.”

“You can sit on my fucking cock while I feed you.” He moaned. “God, you’re always like this, aren’t you? Completely fucking insatiable.”

Hermione asked, “Think you can keep up?” She leaned forward to capture his mouth. “I’m glad it was you.”

She felt his smile.

“We should have cast a silencing charm,” Hermione whispered. “They’re going to hear us again.”

He snorted. “ C'est la vie .”