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Dear Potter,
How have you been? It’s been a year since we last ran into one another. Not the most pleasant interaction, I must admit. You looked so beautiful, even in your ill-fitting muggle clothing and your hair that looks as though you’ve never put a comb to it. I got nervous, as I tend to do, and insulted you when I meant to compliment you.
I miss you. I don’t miss being a teenager, but I do miss having the opportunity to see you everyday. You always looked so cute when you got angry. Did you know that you sometimes puff out your cheeks when you’re upset? It’s quite endearing.
I heard that you’ve been engaged. As much as it tears my heart apart to say this, but I’m happy for you. You deserve a wonderful, fulfilling life. I hope that your betrothed can help you achieve that.
Yours truly,
Draco Malfoy
Draco sighed, wrinkling the side of the scroll in her fist. This letter was just one of many, the intended recipient being none the wiser of their existence. Over the years, Draco had written plenty of letters addressed to Potter. There were letters where she confessed her undying love, others where she waxed poetics about Potter’s beauty, and some where she simply told Potter about her day.
She picked up another.
Potter,
I hate you so much. You and your insufferable saviour complex, your ‘I need to help everyone’ mindset is out of control. I wish you hadn’t testified at my trial. I didn’t need your help and I still don’t need it. Stay out of my business.
DLM
Draco made a face. That was the first one she’d written, only a couple days after her trial before the Wizengamot concluded. She’d been so angry at the world, furious at the life she’d made for herself. It was easy to take out that anger at Potter, it always had been. She intended to send that first one out, but as she tied it to her owl, she’d hesitated. As much as Potter irritated her back then, what she’d done for her was unbelievably generous and probably saved her from being locked up. So, she stowed it away.
Over time, that irritation faded into something more intense, something that Draco’d been ignoring for years. When Draco really sat down and thought about it, she came to the harsh realisation that it had always been Potter. Always.
Though Draco had long since come to terms with her feelings, she still never sent any of the letters. She only sulked and bemoaned her cowardice, keeping the letters folded up in already labelled envelopes and tucked into the far corner of her desk drawer. And now, time was running out. Potter’s wedding was two weeks away, information that Draco found out from a friend through another friend.
In two weeks, Potter would be legally bound to another, and Draco’s fantasy would die entirely.
In two weeks, Potter would be married, and Draco still had all of these letters.
It was late at night, a warm Saturday in the middle of May. Draco was… pissed out of her mind, for lack of a better word. Draco wasn’t typically much of a drinker, but with Potter’s wedding date looming closer, Draco was becoming more inclined to bury her feelings beneath mountains of alcohol.
She wondered what would happen if Potter ever read her letters. They hadn’t spoken much in the years since the trials. Whatever few interactions they did have, Draco went and mucked it up every single time, insulting Potter until her cheeks went pink and she stormed off. So, she wouldn’t dare imagine that Potter would fall to her knees and beg Draco to run off and elope with her.
Though, imagining Potter’s face as she worked her way through the letters was something that Draco fantasised about often. Would she gasp when Draco confessed her love in writing, mesmerising green eyes flashing with shock? Would she laugh when Draco recounted lighthearted stories from her own childhood, the sound uninhibited and easy on the ears? Or, perhaps, would her entire face go red when she read about the things Draco had imagined doing to her, her pulse quickening and her hands trembling?
A thought popped into Draco’s mind. She didn’t have to rely on her imagination for any of this. Potter was getting married, and Draco had nothing to lose. The letters were already folded away in envelopes, already addressed to Potter herself. All Draco needed to do was package them all into a small parcel and hand them off to her owl and let her do the rest of the work.
Draco was so drunk, so maybe her rationale was not fool proof, but this sounded like the best idea she’d ever come up with in her life.
She moved with a speed that was just a tad too rushed for her compromised state, often having to stop and steady herself before she keeled over on the floor. Draco gathered the letters quickly and wrapped them up in a thick beige parchment, tying the parcel off with a couple of tight knots. She intentionally left out the first letter she’d written. Potter didn’t need to see that one.
She found her owl quickly. She was perched in Draco’s bedroom and her feathers were wind blown, clearly having just returned from her nightly hunt. “Hello, darling,” Draco greeted, face twisting at the way her words slurred.
Her owl, a cute tawny owl that she’d named Clementine, perked up at the sound of her voice. “Could you do me a favour and deliver this to Harry Potter?” She offered the parcel in one hand, using the other to stroke her beak. Clementine cooed and Draco could only assume that was her agreeing, because within moments she was off, parcel dangling between her talons.
Draco sighed, watching as Clementine flew into the night until she was a mere speck. She’d done it. Draco wasn’t sure what Potter’s reaction would be. She’d never been the predictable sort, a trait that Draco had come to adore.
She would cross that bridge when she got there. For now, she was beginning to feel the effects of a late night alcohol binge now that she’d completed her task. Her eyes were drooping, and she almost fell over when she was changing into her bedclothes.
Draco collapsed onto her bed without grace, drifting off into sleep before her head even hit the pillow.
—
The following morning, Draco felt like the Hogwarts Express had run her over five times over. She squinted an eye open and immediately regretted it, the bright light streaming in from her window worsening the already nasty headache she was brewing. Draco rubbed at her temples as she sat up, swallowing down the wave of nausea that followed. She honestly might still be a little drunk.
She needed to lock away her alcohol and vow to never touch it again.
Draco pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes as the memories from the night prior slowly began to reveal themselves to her. She could recall pining over Potter, that was par for the course when she was sloshed. There was something about the letters… what did she do with the letters?
Draco froze.
Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Merlin’s saggy balls, fuck.
There was no way she actually sent them off, right? It must have just been some oddly detailed dream, because there is no way she would’ve done something that idiotic, that brainless!
Draco threw herself from the comfort of her bed, ignoring the throbbing in her head and the churning of her stomach. She stumbled her way into her study, ripping open the drawer in her desk with a force that could’ve ripped the hinges off.
The letters were gone.
Draco began to panic, even more so than before, digging through the contents of the drawer as though the letters would apparate back into existence. “Circe’s tits, I am fucked,” she groaned, scrubbing her hands over her face aggressively. If there was one good thing that came out of this, the sudden slew of emotions had entirely sobered up whatever was left in her system.
She needed to get the letters back. She rushed back to her bedroom and into the adjoining bathroom, digging through the cabinet underneath the sink for a dose of pepper-up. Once her hands closed around the small bottle she wasted no time uncorking it and downing the contents. She shook herself out as the odd sensation washed over her form, breathing out a sigh of relief as her stomach settled and the pounding in her head dulled to a thrumming ache.
She still felt terrible, but now she was no longer at risk of sicking up all over Potter’s front door after Apparating.
Without bothering to change out of her bedclothes — there wasn’t enough time for that — she pulled on a pair of socks and grabbed her wand. Draco slipped on a pair of shoes near the front door of her flat and ran a couple of rushed fingers through her hair. It wasn’t great, but she was sure it would still looked better than Potter’s on a good day.
She envisioned the front of Potter’s cottage, turned and she was off.
Draco landed with a crack. She had to lean over, bracing her hands on her knees as she composed herself. She was lucky she hadn’t splinched herself.
Once she was positive she weren’t about to pass out, she righted herself, taking in the sight of Potter’s place of residence. She supposed that it was also her betrothed’s place of residence, but she preferred to pretend as though he didn’t exist.
She’d been here, once before. When Potter first moved in, Draco showed up at her front door with a housewarming gift. The present was a set of red and yellow salt and pepper shakers in the shape of lions. They were corny and on the nose, but Draco figured it was the easiest thing to get right.
The interaction had ended in an argument, with Draco shoving the gift into Potter’s unprepared hands and Apparating back home without another word.
She grimaced at the memory. Scrubbing her hands on her pants, Draco made the short walk up to Potter’s front door. She raised a fist, hesitated, then knocked twice.
For a brief moment, Draco was afraid nobody was going to answer. Then, she heard movement from behind the door. The click of a lock, and Potter was pulling the door open.
Even rumpled with sleep, Potter looked gorgeous. She was wearing a light blue dressing gown on top of an oversized Chudley Cannons shirt, paired with thin purple sleep pants that covered the tops of her feet. Her glasses were slightly crooked, and her hair was sticking out in every way possible.
Potter blinked. “Malfoy?” Her gaze flicked over Draco’s frame in a way that made her feel oddly exposed. Draco suddenly felt self conscious, reminded of her less than put together appearance.
“Er,” Draco started. “Hello.”
Potter crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, her expression turning into one of agitation. “What do you want?”
“You have something of mine.”
“Pardon?”
Draco ran a hand through her hair and reminded herself to keep her composure intact. It was always difficult to do that when Potter was involved. “Did you… receive a parcel last night?”
Potter’s eyes narrowed. “I did. Why?”
“I need it back.”
“Is it not my parcel?”
Draco groaned, pushing down the urge to ransack Potter’s cottage herself. “It is, but—,” she cut herself off, and Potter only raised a brow in response. “You can’t read them.”
“Read what?”
“You haven’t opened the parcel yet?”
Potter shook her head. “I was going to, but I was interrupted.”
Draco couldn’t believe she was about to do this in front of Potter of all people, but desperate times came for desperate measures. “Potter, please.”
Potter’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything. Emboldened, Draco continued on. “It was a mistake, sending them out. I was drunk—,” she probably could have gone without admitting that. “I need them back.”
“What if I said no?” Potter taunted, a smirk curling at her lips. Draco wanted to throttle her. Or destroy her. Or, maybe both?
“Potter, you—“ Draco took a deep breath. “Let me in.”
“Huh?”
“You have a brain up there, don’t you? I said, let me in.”
Without waiting for Potter’s response, Draco shouldered her way into her abode, ignoring her near squawk of indignation at her admittedly impolite behaviour. Potter rushed past her, snatching up the parcel on the dining table.
“Potter. Give it back,” Draco requested, taking a step forward and holding out a palm.
Potter shook her head petulantly. “No. It’s mine. I want to know what’s in it.”
Draco let out a frustrated sound and closed the distance between them, reaching for the parcel with outstretched fingers. Despite the height advantage she had on Potter, the latter still managed to keep it away from her. The two of them went back and forth like immature children, with Potter cradling the parcel as though it were precious cargo.
Finally, Draco got her hands on it, but Potter’s were still firmly attached as well. “Potter,” she warned.
“Malfoy,” she returned.
Draco huffed and pulled, and in return, so did Potter. The sound of parchment beginning to tear filled the space, and Draco’s blood went cold. Within moments, the parchment was torn to shreds and the letters went everywhere. A good thirty letters fell to the floor, and the both of them stumbled back, each holding onto one half of what used to be a haphazardly wrapped parcel.
The two of them froze. They stared at the mess of letters on the floor, then each other.
They moved at the same time, scrambling towards the pile in a manner that Draco might find funny if she weren’t so stressed. It was thirty letters versus two people, though, so Potter was bound to get her hands on at least one.
She shouted triumphantly when she successfully ripped one from Draco’s grip, standing up and taking a couple of rushed steps back. Draco stood up slower, holding a placating hand out as though she were approaching a wild animal. “Potter, please. Don’t read it.”
“It’s addressed to me. I’m gonna read it.” With that, Potter tore the envelope open and unfolded the letter. Draco stood there frozen, her heart dropping to her stomach. With the obvious tear stains that sunk through the other side of the parchment, Draco knew exactly what letter that was. She’d reread it so many times that she could practically recite it by heart.
Dear Potter,
I think I’m in love with you. No. I know I’m in love with you. There’s always been something about you that drew you to me, even when I had no idea who you were, back in the Madam Malkin’s all those years ago.
You are the brightest star in the night sky, a beautiful oasis in the middle of a desert. You are everything I want, anything I could ever need. I wish you could be the first thing I see when I wake in the morning, and the last I see when I go to bed at night.
Every part of my body and soul sings for you, and I will forever dream of a world where I can have you. Alas, I know I’m going to be stuck forever yearning for you.
I love you, Harry Potter.
Yours truly,
Draco Malfoy
Potter’s hands had started trembling. She walked backwards on visibly shaky legs until the back of her knees hit a dining chair, and she promptly flopped down into the seat, her eyes still focused on the contents of the letter.
Draco stood there stiffly, and she wasn’t even entirely sure if she was breathing.
Potter’s voice was breathy when she finally broke the silence. “Malfoy…”
Draco wrung her hands together. “Do you understand why I didn’t want you to read them?”
Potter broke her gaze away from the letter to look at Draco. Her eyes were owlish and utterly captivating. “Why didn’t you… say anything?”
Draco scoffed. “Right. When was I supposed to bring it up? After I said your hair looks like shit? Or, maybe I should’ve done it when I found out you’ve been engaged?”
Potter’s expression flashed with irritation, but it settled into something pleading moments later. “Malfoy, I’m serious. We should talk about this.”
Draco shook her head, flicking her wand to gather up the remainder of the letters still scattered on the floor and sending them into her waiting hands. “No, you know enough. I’m leaving now.” She turned on her heel, preparing to leave, but she was stopped by a tight grasp on her shoulder.
“I’m having second thoughts about my marriage,” Potter blurted out.
Draco paused, one foot still in front of the other. She turned her head slowly. “Why are you telling me this?”
Potter shrugged. “Even playing field, I guess?”
Letting curiosity get the better of her, Draco threw away her intentions of leaving and faced Potter. “Why?”
Potter guided Draco over to the dining table, and Draco didn’t argue. The two of them sat down, and Draco watched the way Potter fiddled with her fingers nervously. “It’s just, he’s nice, you know? Funny, too.”
Draco made a face. “I’m not seeing what the problem is here.”
“I’m getting there,” Potter snapped. “Er, I’m not attracted to him, is the issue.”
“Oh?” Draco’s curiosity was further piqued.
“Yeah.” Potter ran a hand through her already disastrous hair and began playing with the tie on her dressing gown. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, of all people. I guess after reading… that, I feel like opening up. We’ve never, we’ve never even… erm, you know.”
Draco gawked. “You two have never had sex?”
Potter’s face flushed and her eyes widened. It was a good look on her. She nodded.
“Why?” Draco asked, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table. “Can your little beau not get it up?”
“He’s not the problem!” Potter exclaimed before she reeled herself back in. “Well, he sort of is. But mainly, It’s me. I don’t even like kissing him.”
The thought of Potter kissing her literal fiancé sent a hot rush of unwarranted jealousy rushing through Draco, but the knowledge that she didn’t like it cooled it down to a simmer. “Is this a new problem, or…?”
Potter shook her head. “It’s been like this with every man I’ve been with. I’ve always thought there was something wrong with me,” she explained, chuckling in a manner that sounded mildly self deprecating.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Draco blurted.
Potter blinked, and she worked her lower lip between her teeth for a moment. “What d’you mean by that?”
Draco took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Have you considered that you may… have different preferences?”
Potter looked confused, but only for a moment. “Oh,” she breathed. Her cheeks were red again, and this time the colour spread to her ears and down her neck.
It was odd, Draco thought, managing to speak to Potter for this long without slewing insults at each other. As much as she enjoyed pushing Potter’s buttons, she had to admit that this was better.
“Yeah,” Draco responded, tapping her fingers on her thigh in an attempt to keep herself sane. “You’ve never experimented?”
Potter pursed her lips together before speaking. “What are you offering?”
It was Draco’s turn to flush, and she spluttered while shaking her head wildly. She then cleared her throat in some semblance of composing herself. “I’m not offering anything. You’re engaged.”
“But… But what if I go through with this and it’s the wrong decision?” Potter started to babble. “What if I end up miserable, and it’s all because I just, didn’t know?”
Draco heaved a sigh. Potter was making it very difficult to keep her self control intact. “You’ll just have to figure that out yourself.” She pushed herself to stand, letters cradled against her chest. She wasn’t even able to turn around before Potter was standing, grasping onto her wrist desperately.
“Malfoy, please.” She gazed up at Draco from underneath her dark lashes, and the sight splintered her resolve. “You want to, right?”
Fuck. Yeah. Yeah, she did.
“One kiss. Just one, alright?”
Potter nodded emphatically. “Yeah. Just one.”
Draco took a step forward, crowding herself into Potter’s personal space. With her free hand, she cupped Potter’s cheek, the tips of her fingers being tickled by her dark curls. Her skin was soft. Potter hummed, her eyes fluttering as she leaned into the touch.
Draco leaned down and brushed their lips together tentatively, the touch gentle and barely there. Potter’s breath audibly hitched, and that was all Draco needed to connect their lips properly. Their lips slotted together like matching puzzle pieces. Potter’s lips were soft and plush, and Draco found herself never wanting to pull away.
Draco dropped the letters on the floor, the envelopes scattering to the ground for the second time that morning. She paid it no mind, though; she slipped her newly freed arm around Potter’s waist, tugging their bodies flush against each other.
Potter made a needy sound at the back of her throat, her arms slipping around Draco’s neck as the kiss began to grow more heated. Draco nipped at Potter’s lip, and Potter gasped in response. She used this opportunity to push her tongue into Potter’s mouth, revelling in the whine it pulled from her. Potter hand drifted up to Draco’s scalp, her fingers tangling in her hair.
Draco nudged her knee between Potter’s thighs, and Potter easily adjusted herself to let her in. Draco ground her thigh up, gasping at the realisation that Potter’s thin sleep pants were already slightly damp. Potter shivered in her hold, her lips detaching from Draco’s in favour of dropping her head on her shoulder.
And, then, Draco remembered.
With great effort, she pulled herself away from Potter, straightening out her rucked up shirt. Potter looked a right mess. Her pupils were dilated, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were swollen and shiny with spit. She looked gorgeous.
Draco gulped. “I should… I should probably go.”
Potter let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah. That might be a good idea.”
Draco bent over to gather the letters scattered on the floor, so frazzled that she forgot she was a witch with a bloody wand.
“Wait.”
Draco looked up, meeting Potter’s gaze. “Yes?”
“The letters. Can I keep them?” She wrung her hands together. “I really… want to read them now.”
Draco raised a brow before she continued to gather the envelopes. “And you didn’t before?”
Potter’s nerves were so palpable that Draco could practically feel them. “Well, yes. But now I really want to read them.”
Draco stood up, cradling the letters in her hands. “Go wild, Potter.” She handed the letters to Potter, this time willingly.
The smile that broke out on Potter’s face was positively blinding. “Brilliant. Thanks.”
“Mhm,” Draco responded. “I’m going to go now.”
“Right. Bye, Malfoy.” It may have just been Draco’s wishful thinking, but Potter’s voice almost sounded… disappointed.
“Goodbye, Potter.” She waved before letting herself out of Potter’s house.
Letting Potter keep the letters was possibly one of the worst decisions she’s ever made in her life, but snogging her had weakened her. Her lips still tingled.
—
After she Apparated home, Draco nearly tore her hair out due to the influx of emotions she was experiencing. She had kissed Potter. The very same Potter she’d spent years hopelessly yearning for, she kissed her. On top of that, she was engaged. She kissed an engaged woman. She kissed an engaged woman that she was in love with.
Potter enjoyed it, too. The pretty sounds she was making, the telltale dampness of her thin pyjamas that betrayed just how into it she was. She was such a vision, mussed and breathless.
“Oh, Merlin,” she bemoaned, knocking her head against the wall.
She decided to go about her day as typical as possible, shoving her emotions that threatened to overflow and the panic at the knowledge that Potter could be reading the letters right now to the wayside. She showered, taking her time as she lathered her skin and hair with expensive products that Potter would most likely tease her for.
No. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Potter.
After she stepped out of the shower, she dried herself with a towel rather than the usual charms, taking any opportunity to plug up her mind with monotonous tasks. She changed into comfortable loungewear, since she didn’t have any plans to leave the flat that day. A pair of silky lavender pyjama pants, the matching top, and a fluffy white dressing gown to top it off.
Draco brewed herself a cup of tea, mixing in two spoonfuls of honey before taking the steaming mug over to her sofa. She kept herself distracted with an out of date copy of The Daily Prophet she hadn’t yet managed to throw out, flipping through the pages and rereading entries with little to no interest.
After her mug was empty and she’d reread the newspaper from front to back, Draco set about cleaning up her flat. There wasn’t much to tidy up, all things considered. She was a typically clean person, something she prided herself on. Though, it didn’t hurt to dust the top shelves of places she didn’t normally reach for, or to refold the throw blankets she kept on the back of her sofa.
Time passed slowly, but surely. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon when she heard a knock at her front door.
She paused on her way to place her plate in the sink. She’d just finished eating dinner. Draco had no clue who the visitor could be. It wasn’t as though she had many people in her life who would come unannounced. Pansy, maybe, but Pansy was out of the country until the end of the month.
Another knock.
“I’m coming!” She called, shaking herself out of her reverie and approaching the door.
She pulled it open, and was shocked to be met face to face with a clearly disheveled Potter. Her hair looked wild, which was typical, but it looked as though she’d spent the last hour running her hands through it rather than the usual charming mess. Her eyes were red rimmed, making the green of her irises even brighter than usual. She wore a gawdy green jumper that looked handmade and well loved, and it fit her better than her usual wardrobe. Her jeans were threadbare and loose, which wasn’t shocking.
“Potter?”
“I broke off my engagement.”
“Pardon?” The onslaught of emotions that rushed through Draco at her words threatened to bowl her over.
“Yeah,” Potter confirmed, playing with the hem of her jumper. “Can I come in?”
Draco gulped before nodding stiffly. “Of course, come in.” She stepped aside to let Potter in. “How did you find out where I lived?”
Potter shrugged as she slipped off her worn trainers by the front door, leaving her in colourful mismatched socks. “Oh, you know. Asked a friend, who asked a friend.”
Draco had to stifle a laugh at that. “And you chose to come here because…?”
Potter set her with a look that glimmered with surety and all of the Gryffindor stubbornness she was known for. “The letters. I read them, all of them.”
Draco choked on her saliva, but she passed it off as a cough into the crook of her elbow. She led Potter into the living room and sat down on the sofa, patting the seat next to her. “You did?” Her voice was plenty more strained than she intended it to be.
Potter sat down, body stiff and upright. Her hands were clasped on her lap. “I did.”
“And?”
“Well, I just… I think you were right. About, the whole—“ she made a couple of hand wavey gestures as though it explained what she was implying. “Preferences, thing.”
With the way Potter reacted to their short snog session, Draco could have told her that much. Though, Potter was a Gryffindor, and Gryffindor’s were nothing if not dense as stone at the best of times. She didn’t voice any of this, instead choosing to raise her brow. “Potter, The Golden Girl, has admitted that I was right. Crups must be flying right now.”
“Oh, come off it,” Potter sniped, crossing her arms over her chest in a petulant manner.
“Alright, alright. You were saying?”
Potter released her arms, scrubbing her hands over her thighs anxiously. “Well, my fiancé, or I guess ex-fiancé, now- Christ, that’ll take some getting used to. He’s kind, and I’ve always enjoyed his company, but like I said earlier… I just never, felt anything.”
Draco didn’t say anything. She leaned back against the couch cushions, relaxing and gesturing for Potter to continue.
“You know, I always thought… I can’t believe I’m telling you this of all people, but, I always just assumed I’d need to settle down with a nice bloke, have a couple of kids and call it a day. It never crossed my mind that there were other… options.”
It was a surreal experience, truly. For Potter to have read all of her letters, every single one of them, and still she comes over to Draco’s flat to open up about topics that she’s sure her best friends aren’t even aware of. It lit a traitorous spark of hope deep within Draco’s chest, one that had long been snuffed out the day Potter rejected her handshake.
“Can I ask again why you’re telling me all of this?” At this point, Draco needed to start putting her foot in her mouth. Here she was, having the conversation of a lifetime with the girl she’d yearned for so intensely that she may deserve some sort of award for it, and all she could manage to do was spit something out that could very well make Potter clam up and leave.
Potter looked mildly put off, but thankfully, she did not leave. “I don’t know, honestly. Maybe it’s because I know you have those…”
“Because I fancy women? You can say it out right, Potter, it’s not going to bite you.”
Potter’s eyes widened minutely. “Right, yeah. Sorry.”
Draco waved her off. “It’s fine, you’re new to this. You were saying?”
“Yeah. I think it’s a bit of that, and also…” Potter’s voice trailed off and her cheeks reddened to an impressive degree. Draco’s interest was piqued. “Some of the letters… they made me feel things.”
Draco felt like she’d taken a punch to the gut, not dissimilar to the time when Potter literally punched her in the stomach back in fifth year. She inhaled deeply, attempting to retain her composure. “What kind of things, might I ask?”
Potter ran a nervous hand through her hair, and Draco followed the movement carefully. “You talked about… some of the things. You wanted to do. To me.”
It was Draco’s turn to blush. Her cheeks heated by a considerable degree, and it took everything within her not to turn away from Potter. “I said a lot of things in those letters, Potter. You’re going to need to elaborate.”
Potter looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “You said- you said thatyouwantedtofuckme.”
Draco had to focus to keep herself from choking on air. She had goaded Potter into saying precisely that, but hearing it, albeit blurted out at speeds unknown to man, was another thing. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I heard you clearly.” Her voice had dropped a bit lower, smoother like the way honey flowed.
“Erm,” Potter started, fidgeting in her seat. “You said you wanted to, er, fuck me.”
Draco made of show of examining her nails, playing at plenty more nonchalant than she was truly feeling. “I did say that, didn’t I?” She leaned closer into Potter’s space, noting the way her breath visibly caught.
“Yeah, you did,” she breathed, her eyes quite obviously trailing down to Draco’s lips. Draco couldn’t help the smirk that curled up, even as her heart threatened to beat out of her chest.
“Are you interested?” Draco asked, lowering her volume until she was close to whispering.
Potter’s chin was tilted downward, the angle of her head only accentuating the size of her eyes. She looked like a living, breathing angel. She nodded jerkily. “Yeah. I am.”
Draco was unable to bite back the gasp that Potter’s admittance drew from her. At that moment, she remembered the very thing that brought Potter over to her flat in the first place. “Wait, Potter. We shouldn’t.” Draco pulled back, putting necessary space between them.
Potter looked as though someone had just kicked a cat in front of her. “Why?” She asked. She lifted hand for a moment, seemingly contemplating whether or not to touch Draco, but she eventually dropped it back into her lap.
“You just broke up with your fiancé,” Draco stated matter-of-factly.
Potter looked away for a moment before turning back to face Draco, her eyes shining with a determination that Draco had grown familiar with over the years they’d known each other. “Two things can be true at once, Malfoy. That, and that… I want you to touch me again.”
Draco’s eyebrows shot up so high that she had a brief irrational thought that they’d fly off of her face. “You’re serious. With me?”
Potter nodded slowly. “With you.”
Draco searched her face, carefully trying to identify any sort of dishonesty or hesitation. She couldn’t find any, so she eventually grabbed hold of Potter’s face between her hands and pulled her in for the second time that day. Potter made a sort of surprised noise at the back of her throat, but it didn’t take long for her to melt into Draco’s touch.
The kiss was languid but deep. One of Draco’s hands slid from Potter’s cheek back to her mop of curls, tangling her fingers in the soft locks. She tightened her grip slightly, and Potter’s hands flew to Draco’s shoulders. Draco hummed against her lips, and tugged at her hair experimentally. Potter gasped, a shiver wracking her entire frame.
“You like that?” Draco murmured, her words washing over Potter’s lips like a warm breeze.
“Yeah,” Potter admitted before crashing her lips against Draco’s once more, this time with an intensity that made her heart race.
Draco slipped the hand that wasn’t in Potter’s hair down to the underside of her thigh, pulling in a way she hoped would send a message.
Potter didn’t get it. She pulled away from Draco, but only slightly, setting her with a confused stare that she would find endearing if she weren’t so set on getting in her knickers. “What?” She asked breathily.
“Sit in my lap, Potter.”
Potter’s eyes widened and the flush she was already sporting on her cheeks spread to her ears. She nodded, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “Okay,” she agreed. Potter shuffled over and swung a leg over Draco before settling down, straddling her thighs and placing her hands on her shoulders tenatively.
Draco could have come on the spot. Draco wanted Potter here, in her lap, helpless to her whims all the time if it were possible. She was beautiful, frustratingly so. She said as much with a murmured “beautiful”, then pulled her back in to connect their lips once more.
Potter squirmed on her lap, locking her arms around Draco’s shoulders. Draco gripped onto Potter’s hips, stroking her demin covered hipbones with her thumbs as she swiped her tongue against her bottom lip; a request.
Potter’s lips parted, and Draco wasted no time slipping her tongue into the wet heat of her mouth. Potter leaned closer, their chests pressed against each other as Draco’s tongue curled around her own.
Draco reluctantly broke away from the kiss to trail down, placing wet open-mouthed kisses against the line of Potter’s neck. Potter’s head tipped over, giving Draco ample space as her fingers flexed against the fabric of her dressing gown. Draco hummed her approval. She stopped where Potter’s neck met her shoulder and clamped down, biting and sucking with the full intention of leaving a mark.
Potter moaned prettily from above, the sound quiet and needy. This only encouraged Draco further, her hands slipping down to Potter’s arse while she set to creating another bruise - this one in the middle of her neck.
“Malfoy, please,” Potter begged, her chest heaving against Draco’s form.
“What do you need, darling?” Draco questioned, trailing her lips back up until she kissed the corner of Potter’s mouth chastely.
“I, I don’t,” Potter started, her hips shifting with the intention of finding friction.
“Your words,” Draco teased. She was being cruel, she knew, but it was hard not to when she had such a pretty thing sat in her lap.
Potter took a deep breath. “More, I want more.”
Draco’s breath caught. Her heart was beating at incomprehensible speeds. Despite that, she held her composure and focused her attention on Potter’s ear, tugging the lobe between her teeth and savouring her responding gasp. “Bedroom?” She whispered directly into Potter’s ear.
“Yeah. Bedroom,” Potter parroted.
With that, Potter slid off of Draco’s lap and Draco herself stood on shaky legs. Draco led Potter to her bedroom, and while the walk wasn’t long by any means, they still managed to lengthen it considerably by stopping every other step to snog and desperately pull an item of clothing off the other. By the time they were through the door, Potter was left in her bra and knickers, and Draco was the same.
Draco pushed Potter back until her knees hit the low bed frame. Potter allowed herself to fall backwards onto the fluffy duvet, but not before she grasped onto Draco’s bra straps to pull her down with her. They shuffled up the bed until Potter’s head was framed by pillows, her wild hair surrounding her face in such a mesmerising way.
Potter’s legs fell open instinctively, letting Draco slot herself between them easily. Draco hummed her appreciation, supporting herself with a forearm next to Potter’s head while her free hand explored its way down her body. Potter lifted her hips, searching for the contact she so desperately craved.
“I’ve got you,” Draco assured, dipping her head to the crook of Potter’s neck when her hand finally reached her goal. She dragged her fingers over Potter’s knickers, pressing down against the space where her clit was. Potter jerked underneath her, a near whine pulling itself out of her lungs.
“You’re so wet,” Draco observed, taking in the dampness of her knickers with a sort of filthy pride. She did this to Potter.
“Malfoy,” Potter pleaded, pressing her hips up into Draco’s waiting hand.
Draco hummed, circling a finger around Potter’s clit in a teasing manner. “Nobody else has had you like this?” She knew what the answer was, but she wanted to hear it out loud.
She could feel Potter’s head shaking, her chin knocking against the top of her head gently. “No.” Her voice was shaky.
“Good.” Draco lifted herself back up, only so she could watch Potter’s reaction as she slipped her fingers underneath her knickers. Potter made a needy sound, her hands once again flying to Draco’s shoulders.
Draco smirked. With two fingers, she rubbed Potter’s clit in a slow but firm side to side motion. Potter moaned, fisting her mouth with the back of her hand as though she were trying to cover it up. Draco tutted, grasping at her wrist with her free hand and pinning it to the sheets. Potter’s lips parted on a near silent gasp and her eyelashes fluttered. “I want to hear you, okay?”
Potter nodded. Draco sped up her ministrations, watching as Potter’s eyes slipped shut and she made a sound similar to a whimper. “I’m going to open you up on my fingers, then I’m going to fuck you with my strap. How does that sound, darling?”
“Fuck,” Potter breathed. “Good. It sounds good.”
Potter whined her disapproval when Draco stopped playing with her clit, but it dissolved into an audible gasp when her fingers danced over her entrance. Draco circled her index finger, gathering the wetness there before sinking it in. Potter’s free hand dug into Draco’s shoulder, sure to leave marks behind.
“Merlin, you’re so wet,” Draco groaned, dropping her forehead against Potter’s shoulder as she began to pump her finger in and out slowly.
“Draco,” Potter whispered, and Draco had to bite back a moan at the sound of her given name on her lips.
Draco didn’t have to work much to add another finger. It slid alongside the first with little resistance, Potter’s existing arousal doing most of the work. Potter made little sounds with every gentle thrust, her back arching and her hips bearing down to meet Draco’s fingers. Draco hooked her fingers up, searching for the sensitive bundle of nerves within Potter.
She knew she found it when Potter clenched around her fingers, a sharp keen being punched out of her. Draco smiled to herself and added a third finger, assaulting the sensitive spot with precision to distract Potter from the stretch. The palm of her hand rubbed against Potter’s clit with every movement, and the sounds her fingers pumping in and out were creating were absolutely filthy.
“Merlin, fuck, Draco,” Potter babbled, her hand undulating between pushing Draco away and then pulling her closer.
Draco kissed at Potter’s neck, paying special attention to the blooming marks she’d left earlier. “So good,” she praised, ignoring the pang in her wrist and the way the lower half of her body ached so intensely it was nearly painful. She was exactly where she wanted to be, reducing Potter to a fucked out mess beneath her.
Potter’s legs hooked themselves around Draco’s waist, and Draco intensified the way her fingers were fucking into her all the while. “Draco, I’m close, I’m close,” Potter rambled, her thighs trembling from their place around Draco.
“You can come, darling,” Draco said, breaking away from her neck to watch Potter lose herself to pleasure. Potter whined, high and wanton, her lips parted and her eyebrows pinched. Instead of thrusting her fingers, she buried them deep, curling them up in a circling motion to ruthlessly attack that sensitive spot. Draco palmed her clit with more intention alongside it, enjoying the way Potter’s sounds pitched higher and the way her body twisted as she came closer to tipping over.
Potter threw her head back into the pillows when she came, her thighs clamping around Draco while she clenched around her fingers rhythmically. Her lips were open on a high, drawn out moan, and her eyes were squeezed shut with the intensity of her orgasm.
Draco had to let go of Potter’s wrist to press against her own clit, attempting to relieve some of the overwhelming arousal coursing through her body. “Beautiful, you’re perfect,” Draco praised, removing her fingers from Potter’s knickers when she slumped against the sheets.
Potter’s eyes opened slowly, her waterline glistening with unshed tears. Draco couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at her lips before she examined her fingers, spreading them apart and staring at the wetness connecting the digits together by thin strings.
“Draco…” Potter had to avert her gaze, clearly embarrassed by the mess she made.
Draco shook her head and without thinking twice, sunk her index and middle fingers into her mouth, tongue swirling around the digits to savour the taste of Potter. She tasted addicting. Draco needed to eat her out at some point, this would not be enough.
Potter gasped at the sight, her hips wiggling in a tantalising manner. Draco released her fingers with a soft pop and trailed her hands up Potter’s sides, fingers slipping underneath the thick strap of her bra. “Do you want to keep going?”
Potter breathed deeply, her gaze dazed but sure. “Yeah. Yes, I want to.”
Draco nodded. “Good.” She slid her hands back down, hooking her fingers into the waistband of her knickers. “Lift your hips up a bit for me, darling.” Potter did as told, and Draco slipped the small garment down her thighs before disposing of it off the side of the bed. Draco hummed, brushing her fingers over Potter’s sensitive clit in a teasing gesture. “You’re so perfect,” she said, and Potter made a disbelieving face but didn’t argue.
Draco tapped her fingers against the side of Potter’s hip. “Turn over for me, darling. Hands and knees.”
Potter’s eyes widened but she obeyed easily, rolling over and propping herself up on shaky limbs. “Good girl.” Potter gasped at her words, subconsciously pressing her arse back into Draco.
Draco smiled and accio’ed her wand, using it to summon her strap. She slipped off the bed to pull it on, settling it over her knickers before she climbed back onto the sheets. Potter jumped when the fake cock rubbed up against her, and Draco hummed, pressing a palm into the small of her back to get her to arch more. “Are you ready?” She asked as she summoned a bit of lube, using it to slick up the cock.
Potter nodded emphatically, turning her head over her shoulder to look at Draco. Her gaze pierced Draco’s own, and the want written so clearly on her features nearly made her double over. “Fuck me,” she breathed, and something within Draco snapped.
She clamped her fingers on Potter’s hips and pushed forward, the head of the strap slipping in easily. Potter shuddered, her head lolling forward. Draco inched her way in slowly, the sight of Potter swallowing her cock up something that she wanted to drop into a pensieve to relive whenever she pleased. She bottomed out soon after, her hips flush with Potter’s arse and her fingers threatening bruises with her grasp.
“Draco, please,” Potter begged, rocking her body back into Draco.
Draco wasn’t one to deny what Potter asked for so sweetly, so she pulled out until only the tip was in before snapping her hips forward, burying herself inside Potter with one fell motion. Potter nearly sobbed, her arms collapsing underneath her. Draco was positive the only thing keeping her legs up was her own hold.
Draco set a punishing pace afterwards, her back curling over Potter’s arched form as she fucked into her with vigor. Every thrust punched a moan out of Potter, and Draco had to bite her lip hard enough to draw blood to keep the litany of swears and gasps from escaping. Every thrust pushed the base of her strap against her clit, the friction not enough to bring her to edge but enough to make her shake with want.
At some point, Potter buried her face into her forearms as though trying to hide. Draco wouldn’t have any of that. She released one of her hands from Potter’s hips and instead dug her fingers into her curls, pulling until her head was upright and facing the headboard. “Let me hear you,” she got out inbetween quiet moans.
Potter whined in response, and Draco wished that she could see her face. She adjusted the angle of her hips while still keeping her grip on Potter’s locks tight, exploring until Potter cried out and arched her back to impressive levels. “Feel good?” Draco probed, shifting herself so that she could brush against the spot with every pump.
“Yes, yes, so good.” Potter’s voice was thin and high.
“Touch yourself, darling.” Draco let go of Potter’s hair and planted her hand on the sheets, draping herself over her back. Her thrusts weren’t as fast now, but they were deep and harsh. “I want you to come around my cock.”
Potter cursed, slipping a shaky hand down to her clit. She rubbed herself off as Draco requested, and Draco mouthed at the back of her neck sloppily. She curled in on herself when she came for the second time that night, her unoccupied hand fisting into the sheets as she let out a broken off moan that sounded a bit like Draco’s name.
Draco fucked her through her orgasm thoroughly, murmuring praises and sweet nothings into the damp skin of her back until her hips stopped moving. She slipped out of Potter slowly, and Potter promptly collapsed onto the duvet afterwards. Draco slipped off the strap and tossed it to the side. She’d clean it later.
Draco laid down on the free space next to Potter, and Potter turned her head to look at her, glasses digging into her cheek in a way that looked uncomfortable. “You haven’t… right?” She asked, her voice sounding entirely gone.
“No, but it’s alright. I can take care of it myself,” she responded. “I’m sure you’re exhausted.” Even as she said that, the thought of Potter touching her in such an intimate way had her thighs clamping together.
Potter shook her head and pushed herself up onto her elbows. “No, I want to.” She shifted until she was hovering halfway over Draco, her hand shyly playing with the waistband of her knickers. “Can I?”
Draco groaned, fighting the urge to let her eyes close. “Yeah, fuck, please,” she confirmed.
Potter nodded, pulling her lip between her teeth as she slipped her fingers underneath her knickers. Her index finger brushed against her swollen clit, and Draco’s hips jerked. “I don’t know how to…” Her voice trailed off, revealing her uncertainty.
“Just do what you like to do to yourself,” Draco encouraged, anchoring herself with a hand in Potter’s curls.
Potter took in a steadying breath before she began to circle Draco’s clit with two fingers, the touch timid but enough to send sparks up Draco’s spine. Draco gasped, hips bearing down against Potter’s fingers against her own accord. Emboldened, Potter increased the pressure, her eyes watching Draco’s face carefully as though searching for positive reactions.
Draco’s head tipped back, a breathy sigh escaping her lips. “Like that, darling. You’re doing so good,” she breathed, her words cut off often by bitten moans.
Potter seemed to preen under the praise, her fingers speeding up as she dipped her head down to the swell of her breast. She mouthed at the supple flesh gently, whining when Draco pulled at her hair.
“Kiss me,” Draco requested.
Potter acquiesced easily, lifting her head to connect their lips in a messy kiss. Draco’s breaths became more ragged as she got closer, mostly panting into Potter’s mouth rather than kissing her back. “I’m so close,” she gasped out, back arching when Potter pressed against her clit with the clear intention of making her come.
It didn’t take much more for Draco to tip over, her entire body tensing as her head fell back on a near silent cry. Her chest was heaving as Potter worked her through it, just like Draco had done to her earlier. Potter only slipped her hand back out when Draco had gotten her breathing more under control, practically collapsing onto her chest afterwards.
Draco chuckled, pressing a kiss to the crown of Potter’s head while her fingers began to card through her damp curls.
“You should have sent me those letters ages ago,” Potter started, curling into Draco’s hold further.
Draco snorted. “I don’t think you would have ever seen those letters if I hadn’t sent them while pissed out of my mind.”
“I’m glad you did. Honestly.”
“Yeah?” Draco asked, ignoring the traitorous pounding of her heart.
“Mhm,” Potter affirmed, lifting her head to look at Draco directly. “I don’t know what I want, I’ll be honest. I did just break up with someone and I don’t want to jump into anything, but… I liked this. A lot.”
Draco hummed, smiling when Potter tangled their legs together. “I liked it too, I’ll admit.”
Potter averted her gaze, suddenly shy as if Draco hadn’t just fucked her within an inch of her life. “This is a bit backwards, but… would you maybe go out to dinner with me sometime?”
Draco’s eyebrows shot up high. “Really?”
Potter looked back at Draco, a fond smile curling at her lips. “Yeah. Really.”
Draco couldn’t help but smile in return. “Then, yes. I’d love to.”
Potter’s grin grew so wide that it nearly blinded Draco. Draco would do anything to have that smile directed at her at all times.