Originally posted as part of the Dirty Granger Fest on AO3. Accompanying art posted there and on my Tumblr.


Hermione bounced down the stairs from her tidy flat to the coffee shop below. The morning rush was always exciting, even six months into her new life. She could even admit that the rush of people wasn't the only part that excited her, but also the people themselves, well, make that a few of the people. Oh, who was she kidding? There was one particular customer who never failed to brighten her day.

She walked through the small kitchen prep space out into the central area of the shop. A quick flick of her wand and lights sprang to life throughout the room. Another flick and soft muggle coffee house music began to play. It was one of her more creative ideas, all the ambiance of a muggle coffee shop but with the perks of magic. You could get your morning latte with a pepper-up shot or your afternoon herbal tea with a dash of calming draught.

Hermione was actually quite proud to have obtained her limited apothecary license. It helped her feel like her NEWTs hadn't been a complete waste of time. Not that education and knowledge were ever a waste. But the stress of sitting those exams after the end of the war had not done good things for her mental health and wellbeing. Or, maybe it was the two years at the Ministry filled with constant reminders of the things she had been through.

Without a doubt, she'd made the right decision the day she walked out of the Ministry with her small box of possessions. It had been the happiest day she'd experienced as an adult. She might not have been able to bring back her parents' memories, but the release of her trust on her twenty-first birthday meant she had freedom again. She didn't have to stay at her Ministry job or be dependent on her friends' help. She could figure out how to make her own life and find her own happiness.

She used a small portion of her newfound freedom to purchase the business space. It was located just off Diagon Alley, but still very convenient for all of those coming through wizarding London. It even included a spacious two-bedroom flat.

That had been a year ago, six months since she'd finished renovating, and thinking back on it always made her smile. Ron had thought she'd lost her mind, but Harry had been nothing but encouraging. He'd even offered to be an investor, but she didn't need the help and opted instead just to let him contribute through sweat equity. Thanks to some trouble she'd had with admirers, she wanted her flat to be warded to the hilt. She also wanted help balancing the feel of muggle and wizarding comforts.

The real surprise had been that when Harry showed up, he'd brought someone along to help. An expert in household warding and protections, Draco Malfoy. That memory made her smile, too. That day had been the start of an unexpected friendship.

Hermione walked up to the front door and ran her wand along its surface, releasing the security charms and fading the windows' opacity. Grey eyes and startling platinum hair appeared on the other side of the glass; a slow smile spread across his face as those eyes met her own.

He pulled the door open. "Good morning, Granger," he said, his eyes trailing over her, suffusing Hermione with warmth. It was a new sensation, a change in how he'd looked at her, a recent shift in their dynamic.

"Draco, how are you today? You're earlier than usual," she said, hoping he didn't notice her blush.

"Big day at the DMLE, Potter doesn't know it yet, but he's getting a promotion today. Thought I'd pick up everyone's favorites. Would have preferred a drink after and all, but our team is headed out."

They walked up to the main counter, and Hermione grabbed her order parchment. She turned back to him. "You know I think this is going to put you on to your ninety-eighth card."

He reached into the pocket of his slacks. "Actually, it'll put me on to the ninety-ninth," he said, showing her the ninety-seven on the back of the current card. "There's only one more on this one, and I'll be getting thirteen drinks." Holding the card between his index and pointer fingers, he held it out to Hermione with a smirk.

She accepted the card and watched him assume a casual lean against the counter. She wondered if he had practiced these poses in their youth or if he was just that good at putting himself into positions that showed him in his best light. She shook her head as he brushed stray strands of hair to the side of his temple. It had to be practiced.

"You know, Granger, I've been meaning to ask, why do you track the cards?"

Hermione startled from her ogling and turned her attention back to the parchment. She finished writing out the order for Malfoy and Harry's team as she answered, "Well, at first it was just for tracking, you know? Seeing about repeat customers and the like. But then, as a few of you started really racking 'em up, I thought I might do something special when my best customers hit big milestones."

"Is that so?" He looked thoughtful for a moment and then turned his silvery gaze on her. "And what will I be getting when I hit that thousandth cup?" he asked, his voice taking on an almost silky quality that made her heart race.

"I…um…I hadn't decided yet. Is there anything you'd like?"

His eyes darkened. "Many things." Abruptly, he stood and squared his shoulders, his eyes flashing with something she didn't recognize. Draco cleared his throat and, with a hint of strain in his voice, said, "I like surprises, Granger. Um… I'll let you get those made up. We'll be out in the field for a few days, but when we get back, just so you're ready, I'll be filling the ninety-ninth card. You'll need to figure out what you'd like to give me by then." He stepped back from the counter with a brief tap-tap to the stone surface as he turned and walked into the small section of muggle and wizarding novels on display.

Hermione watched him go and noticed the strain on his well-tailored shirt, his muscles testing the limits of what must have been previous measurements. Her eyes followed the lines to his tapered hips. She let her mind conjure visions of those muscles, tight abdominals, and a cut 'V.' Auror training was a beautiful thing. She shook herself and turned to start making up the large order of drinks before he noticed.

Other than when they were out on assignment, Draco made an appearance in her shop every day, making him by far her most frequent customer. He'd even brought his mother a few times.

Draco had started to purchase the muggle books she carried with semi-regular frequency in the past two months. He would engage her in discussions about them while he waited for his drink. On a few memorable occasions, he had talked her into taking a break and sitting with him by the fire to speak further, at least until another customer arrived. He'd also become a frequent fixture at her friends' Friday nights out at The Leaky. He'd been showing up in more and more parts of her life. To her surprise, she found herself pleased with every new addition.

She finished up the drinks, set a levitating charm on the double-decker holder, and walked over to the stacks where he was still perusing. "All set. I'll come up with something exceptional."

He smiled. "I'm sure you will." He took over control of the drinks and headed for the door, pausing just before he pushed it open. "Hermione, who else is close to one hundred cards?"

Hermione looks down at her shoes, toed the floor. "Only you."

"Good. That's good. I mean, um…" Draco's voice almost cracked.

"I think it's good too," she replied, looking back up at him. His clear grey eyes darkened to an almost steel-blue; the flicker of candlelight gave the impression that a storm was brewing beneath the surface of the swirling color. She could fall into them if she let herself, so close.

"Oh, excuse me," a presence on the other side of the door interrupted them. Draco quickly held the door open as Hermione stepped back, a blush heating her cheeks.

"I'll meet you at the counter in just a moment," she said to the new customer and turned back to Draco. "Be careful and tell Harry congratulations from me."

"Yes, I'll do that." He glanced toward the counter, then back to her, a smirk pulling his lips into a half-smile. "Be seeing you, Granger." And then he was out the door, leaving Hermione with a grin that she couldn't shake.


Four days Hermione spent debating the merits of a whole range of rewards for her best customer. From a generous gift card to a blatant invitation up to her flat for a night of debauchery. She was leaning more and more toward the debauchery.

Hermione was reasonably sure Draco was interested in her. She could recognize attraction when she saw it, or at least, she was pretty sure she could. But, at the same time, Hermione had to acknowledge her lack of experience. She hadn't really dated since she and Ron had ended their brief and exceedingly awkward, post-war romance. Sometimes you just knew someone too well in all the wrong ways to develop lasting romantic feelings. A few setups, a few very careful hookups, and a very embarrassing, but productive, trip to a muggle sex shop with Ginny were the extent of her dating life. All of which had been before she left the Ministry.

A dry spell. Thinking about Draco's reward was not leaving her feeling dry.

After much debate and a few imaginative rounds with the previously mentioned sex shop purchase, she had finally made a decision. She would offer him dinner and dessert for two, anywhere, and anything of his choosing. That would put the ball in his court. She would flirt and try to make it clear that if he wanted her to be his plus-one, she would be more than amenable.

When Draco arrived at the coffee shop on the fifth day since she'd seen him last, Hermione was a bundle of nerves. She'd come up with a script, discarded it, decided to wing it, and then rewritten her script at least five times since deciding on the reward. She could feel her magic crackling through her hair; she was so anxious.

Her nerves were replaced with concern when she took in the sight of Draco. A black eye, a mottled green and yellow suggesting it was almost healed, dark circles under his eyes, and just the slightest hitch in his movement.

Hermione rushed around the counter to meet him. She held her hand out to his cheek, letting it flutter just above his skin for a moment before he stepped into her touch.

"What's happened to you?"

"You should see the other guy," he said proudly.

"Oh, Draco, you're hurt. Have you seen a healer?"

"I'm serious, Granger, the other guy, real mess, in Mungo's," he said, taking her other hand into his and squeezing softly. "And yes, I've seen the healer, and I'll be good as new after one of your pepper-up caramel lattes. I'll also be taking everyone's favorites with either pepper-ups or that invigorate shot you've got. I wrote down who wanted what," he finished, releasing his hold with one hand, slipping it into his pocket, and then handing her a slip of parchment.

"I'd ask but—"

"Yes, you know how the Ministry is; you won't even hear about this little adventure in the Prophet. It'll all be kept very quiet."

Hermione nodded, trying to put it out of her mind. She knew the kind of things they dealt with. It was part of why she'd left—too many reminders of the war, too many dark wizards still on the run. Draco and Harry seemed to thrive on it, or at least they found purpose in it. Ron had left not long after she had. He'd claimed it was to help George, which Hermione knew was at least partially true. Unlike most, though, she also knew he had nightmares. For her, it was the panic attacks; she didn't miss those.

After one last brush across his bruised cheek, Hermione headed back behind the counter to make up all the drinks. Once she had everything laid out, she called, "So when did you all get back?"

"Just now," his voice was closer than she'd expected, she turned, and Draco was standing at the edge of the counter, doing that damn lean, watching her. "I came here as soon as we wrapped things up at St. Mungo's."

"Well, no wonder you look exhausted."

"We were gone longer than planned," he said with a shrug.

Hermione nodded. If she hadn't been so absorbed with figuring out the reward she was about to offer Draco, she would have been worrying over how long they had been out in the field. She'd have to be sure to floo Harry later.

"This is it, you know," he said, snapping his fingers and conjuring his reward card. He proceeded to flick it with his other hand.

"So it is." She kept herself busy, pressing freshly ground beans for the next set of shots.

"What's my reward for being your most loyal customer?" he asked, even closer now.

"Um…well…I thought I'd give you some flexibility," she said, turning to look at him.

"Mmmhmm, how flexible, Hermione? I can be quite demanding." His hand brushed her neck as he tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

Her breath caught, her heart seeming to skip a beat, and then took off. "Dinner for two, anything anywhere," she said as quickly as she could before she blurted out something embarrassing. The fact that she did yoga each morning and that he was welcome to take her any way he wanted was on the tip of her tongue.

"Anything, anywhere? My, my, that is generous of you. Do I have to decide right now, or can I think about it?" he asked, his fingers dancing lightly down her neck, stopping to squeeze her shoulder gently.

"You can think about it, take all the time you need," she said, trying to sound level, in control. She was pretty sure she was failing. She reached for the bar rag, quickly wiped up some spilled milk, and set the last drink into the carrier, setting the levitation charm.

"I won't take long. I promise," Draco said, his voice practically in her ear, and then a press of lips to her cheek, soft and warm. He stepped away. "Watch for my owl."

Hermione gripped the counter and counted breaths. "What just happened?" she asked the empty room.


He didn't make her wait long. That night when she walked back into her flat, an owl was waiting at the window.

Hermione quick-stepped over to the window and opened it, letting the large Eagle Owl alight on her perch. She accepted the small scroll and offered the bird a few treats. When it didn't immediately leave, she settled in to read it, figuring a response was expected.

The slightest of tremors made opening the scroll more work than it should have been, but once she finally had the seal broken and it unrolled before her, she nearly fainted.

Anything: your company, order in, cook, as long as you are there that is what I want
Anywhere: your flat
You didn't specify a when, so I would like to suggest Friday after the shop closes, are my terms acceptable?
-D.M.

Hermione gulped. His terms were very acceptable. She was also terrified, even though this was precisely what she'd hoped he would suggest. She quickly reached for a small parchment and scrawled her response.

Very acceptable, give me an hour after close so I can change and prep. I'm looking forward to Friday.
-H.G.

Now she would just have to decide what on earth to do about dinner. She had a pretty good idea of how to handle dessert.


Time both crawled and sprinted over the next three days. She'd gone back and forth about whether she should cook their meal or just order something in. After much debate, she opted for order in. The chances that the ball of nerves she was becoming could deal with managing a meal were abysmal. Better to order-in a nice dinner and only have to concern herself with the presentation.

Which, of course, alerted her to the fact that she was part of that presentation. That meant a shopping trip had been in order. Rather than robes, Hermione opted for a pretty cocktail dress. It was strapless, deep emerald green—might as well play to her audience—cut just below her knee, but very form-fitted to show off her curves. The sales woman's face alone had been enough to convince Hermione it was the right one. She knew Draco would enjoy it. Paired with black lacy knickers and no bra, 'you're only young once' as the saleswoman had pointed out, and she was ready.

Friday arrived, and after several minutes spent just breathing through the volatile mixture of anxiety and excitement, Hermione started getting ready. She'd placed the order for food that morning, and it would be delivered about ten minutes before Draco was scheduled to arrive. That meant she wanted to be changed and ready by then.

Hermione was thankful for all the lessons Ginny had given her over the last few years on managing things like smoothing her hair and preventing shininess on her T-zone. She wasn't one for heavy makeup, muggle or charmed, but her dress had the air of drama, so it made sense to play it up a bit—smokey eyes with dark mascara and just a hint of tint for her cheeks and lips. Curls smoothed but left full and long down her back finished her prep with a few minutes to spare.

She used the extra time to do one last walk through the flat. Everything was tidy; she'd changed her sheets and made sure her bedroom looked inviting, just in case.

Tapping at her window alerted her to the food delivery. She accepted the bags and then treated and attached a tip to the owl.

She laid the meal out on her dining table with a quick stasis charm and then did her best to be calm and think of topics for conversation. She dug through her memory, trying to remember the last book Draco had bought but was coming up blank. Maybe it was for the best, with how she felt she'd end up thinking of specific remarks and then come off stiff when what she wanted was for this evening to feel like a beginning.

The thought caught her. When had she gone from fantasizing a night of debauchery with her very attractive 'more than an acquaintance' to wanting this to be the start of something more?

"Oh gods," she groaned to herself. That was probably the last thing that Draco wanted. She'd have to keep it together and try not to embarrass herself. She'd done the 'casual thing' before. This would be fine; she could handle it.

A shiver through her wards alerted her to Draco's presence at the back entrance to her building and saved her from further thought on what would come after tonight. She granted him access and walked to her door to meet him.

Draco appeared at the end of the short landing moments later, looking like he'd walked off a runway. His hair was mussed just the right amount. Tailored trousers revealed how fit he was. His crisp white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone with sleeves cuffed to mid-forearm, exposed a burst of color where his dark mark had once marred his skin. In his other hand, he held a bouquet of bright daisies.

He walked up to her, a smirk in place, but it wasn't the cruel smirk of their youth. This expression was expectant and filled with promise, hovering on the edge of a real smile.

"You look—"

"Wow—"

They both laughed, and Hermione stepped aside for him to enter. "These are for you," he said, holding out the flowers. "Merlin, Hermione, you look beautiful." His hand reached out for her hip and squeezed briefly. "Is this for me?"

"Yes, do you like it?" she asked.

He reached for her hand and guided her into a brief spin. "Very much."

Hermione could feel his heart beating against her chest. She was not the only one affected; of that, she was positive. "I have dinner in the other room," she said, sounding much more out of breath than a simple spin should have made her.

Draco pulled her back into him, his hand still holding hers, and just held her there.

He leaned in and, with his lips just a breath from her ear, said softly, "Lead the way."


Draco set his utensils down on the plate and slid it away from him as he relaxed back into the chair. "That was very good. I'm quite a fan of Saffron. I'm glad you chose it."

"Thank you. I quite like it too. I was going to cook, but I didn't want…" Hermione trailed off, hesitant to share how much she wanted more nights with him.

"Perhaps another time," he said, a mischievous gleam in his eyes and something just softer than his smirk gracing his full lips, which morphed into a full smile. "In fact, I'd love the chance to cook for you as well."

Hermione felt her mouth drop open, shocked. He'd said it so casually, implied future dinners, not one but at least two.

He must have recognized her surprise because he reached across the table and tangled his fingers with hers. "Hermione, please excuse me if I've misinterpreted tonight and the last few weeks of thick sexual tension between us. I am quite hoping that this won't just be a single night. I want this to be more than just a thank you for all the galleons spent. If that implication makes it awkward, tonight can just be dinner, and then maybe tomorrow we can spend some more time together."

Hermione's heart jumped to her throat at his words. "You want to spend more time with me."

"I do. I don't want there to be any pressure tonight, but, Hermione, I don't want to play games here. I care for you, have feelings for you beyond the lovely friendship we've built. If you don't feel the same, or if you just wanted to have a bit of fun, I completely understand, and honestly, I'll take whatever you're willing to give me."

"Whatever I'm willing to give you? "

"Yes, I mean I do realize the disparity here, you're, well, you're you." His face collapsed a bit, a rare show of complex emotion from him. "And I'm me," he said, pushing the sleeve on his left arm further up, revealing more of his artfully covered Dark Mark. No amount of swirling colors built into an impressionistic view of the night sky could entirely hide the harsh lines of the mark that had been burned into him with dark magic.

Hermione stared at his forearm. The tattoo really was beautiful, even if it didn't fully hide the ugliness that lay beneath. She reached out and stroked her finger across the image. "Is this your constellation?"

She looked up to meet his eyes and saw him struggle to swallow. He nodded. "It's beautifully done."

He nodded again. "I had Seamus and Dean help me find a muggle artist."

"This is a muggle tattoo? Sorry, I just assumed."

He smirked, a bit of his usual self present again. "Draco Malfoy, scion of a most ancient and noble house, reduced to hiding embarrassing family bigotry with a quaint muggle novelty," he said, in an impression of his father she suspected.

"You're not him, you know?"

He sighed heavily. "Perhaps not, but I cannot escape him or the decisions he made for me." He turned his head aside and said, just barely loud enough for Hermione to hear, "What was I thinking?" He returned his focus to her. "I'm so sorry, Hermione, I think it's time I left. Maybe this was a bad idea. You deserve so much more than what I have to offer."

He started to rise, but Hermione held his arm firmly in her grip. "What about dessert?"

He laughed, a short escape of breath. "Dessert? Granger, you don't mean that?"

"But don't I? Didn't I make this offer to you. I've been enjoying myself, and before you got here, I realized I didn't want this to be one time. One dinner or whatever else happens tonight. I care about you too."

"You shouldn't."

"Eh…you know I've heard a lot about what I should or shouldn't do, what was expected of me during those years right after the war. You know what I've realized?"

"What?"

"That other people are always going to have opinions about what I do. No matter what I do, it won't be enough or the right choice for at least some people. You may think I deserve better than you, but what if you're exactly what I need and want. What if you deserve me?"

She didn't get a chance to find out what he thought of that because, in the next moment, Draco lounged across the space between them, tugged her out of her seat, and captured her mouth.

It started a little stiff, close-mouthed, and with an undercurrent of desperation, with his arm that she still held in her hands trapped between them. Draco felt like a man reaching for something he thought would disappear. Hermione couldn't have that, not now that she knew they both had feelings for each other.

Slowing things down, Hermione released her hold on his arm. She slid her hands up his chest, letting her fingers dip and drag across each swell of muscle. Reaching his clavicles, she pushed up onto her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Hermione looked up into his grey eyes. "I want you. Please."

Draco gasped and tugged her closer. He pulled them back to his chair and eased Hermione into his lap. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone in my life."

His lips met hers again, this time with a gentleness that warmed her to her core. She deepened the kiss, reveling in the feel as his arms gripped her tightly, drawing her into his chest.

She couldn't help the moan that he took with his now soft but still urgent lips, his tongue warm and gentle but insistent. Everything about him seemed to be a play in contrasts. This solid body and tight grip with the softest skin, intensely hot mouth with the gentle strokes of his tongue, never overpowering her, following where she led. He made her feel powerful and in control, but also wanted. It was a heady combination.

Deepening the kiss further for just a moment, Hermione pulled back, placing one last peck on those full lips. "Dessert?" she said, her throat thick with her desire.

"Only if it's you."

She leaned back a little further. "That is, in fact, one of the options," she said, not able to contain her giggle.

"Is it now? Maybe I need to hear all my options, so I can make the most informed decision," he said, resettling her across his lap, hands linked around her hips.

"Well, I have a flourless chocolate cake with raspberries and chocolate sauce, and there is also a chilled bottle of Prosecco."

"What do you say to us making use of all of the above?"

"That I'm curious."

"Excellent, with that brain of yours, I can't risk losing your attention."


Hermione leaned forward, accepting the last bite of the cake from Draco's fork.

They'd started the dessert with her back in her own chair. After Draco had playfully insisted that he needed to feed it to her and couldn't possibly do that with her so far away, she'd ended up back in his lap.

She finished the bite as Draco's mouth descended on the sensitive flesh behind her ear and burned a path down her neck. If she'd had any remaining questions about her choice of dress, they vanished as his lips pressed softly between her breasts, his tongue darting out under the fabric. His hands had been busy as well, caressing her waist and now stroking along the topmost edge of the dress where the zipper lay.

Draco kissed the center of her chest again, and as he gave the zipper a slight tug. He mumbled against her skin, "May I?"

"Yes, please."

The hiss of the zipper sliding down was punctuated by the sharp inhale of breath as Draco's hands caressed up her now exposed back.

"You aren't wearing a bra," he said, both awed and clearly excited.

"No, I'm not."

He groaned and buried his face into the now loose fabric between her breasts. "You're going to be the death of me. I'll expire right here at your dining room table."

"I wish you wouldn't; I don't fancy explaining how I killed Draco Malfoy, decorated Auror and close mate of Harry Potter."

Draco laughed, his face still pressed against her chest. "Thank you for that," he said after a few moments and looked up at her. He just stared and then said, "You are so beautiful." He captured her lips once more, and she felt the fabric of her dress being guided down her torso.

Hands swept from her back across her ribs and lightly teased down her sides before settling on her hips. Hermione moaned around Draco's mouth and felt him smile. He left a peck on her mouth and kissed down her jaw, neck, and to the center of her chest. Draco seemed to be just breathing her in; his face pressed between her breasts as his thumbs caressed circles on her hipbones. His head tilted, and he pressed a kiss her the curve of her breast, drawing a gasp, then another kiss, and another. He was clearly trying to torture her with each nip, kiss, and lick of his tongue. None of which could even begin to describe the sensations from his thumbs as they toyed with the lace of her knickers. He was touching her everywhere but where she craved him.

"Please."

He hummed, his lips skimming the underside of her other breast. "Was there something you wanted, Hermione?" his lips vibrated against her, sending liquid heat through her whole body.

"Yes," she growled and grabbed his cheeks, placing him where she wanted him.

"I love a witch who knows what she wants." The tip of his tongue traced around her areola, causing her to shiver. "Was there something else you wanted?" he asked, finally flicking his tongue over her nipple before taking it between his lips.

She released his head and took hold of both his hands, guiding them to remove her knickers. Draco eased away from her chest and watched as his fingers took hold of the lace. After a moment, he started to drag them over her hips and down her tights.

"So long. I've wanted you for so long," he whispered, still gazing at the apex of her thighs. "Can I touch you?"

"I may have to kill you if you don't."

He chuckled, masculine, and happy. "Can't have that, can we?"

Draco surged forward and recaptured a nipple with his lips as one of his hands cupped her. His palm pressed to her, causing her hips to grind into him. He hummed against her, his fingers sliding into her folds and further to circle her entrance before pressing into her.

"Gods, Draco, don't stop, please," she begged as he created a rhythm of friction and caresses with his hands and mouth. Every nerve felt on fire as he pushed her closer and closer to climax.

Hermione's whole body felt as though it were vibrating. Draco took her nipple between his teeth and tugged as his thumb and fingers hit her clit and g-spot in tandem. Her body exploded with waves of heat and a shimmery pleasure that seemed just to keep building higher and higher until she was nothing but a limp puddle of ruined humanity in her lover's arms.


Hermione came back to earth as Draco laid her out on her bed. Her body still felt like liquid. It took all of her focus to push up on to elbows to watch him strip out of his dress shirt and slacks. Every move deliberate and exacting. How he did everything. Clad in only a pair of black boxer briefs, he moved to the side of the bed and sat with one leg tucked under him.

"We can stop here, though I'd like to hold you," he said, voice rough.

"You want to stop?" Hermione asked, still breathless.

He released a low, almost tortured laugh. "That is the opposite of what I want, but I can wait."

"I don't want to wait." She reached her hand out for him. He leaned down to meet it, letting her guide him to meet her in a soft kiss.

He stood and shucked the briefs. The sight of him nude and very, very male caught Hermione's breath. "Wow, you're beautiful."

He kneeled back onto the bed and crawled over her. "That's my line."

She couldn't help but smile and then allowed her gaze to travel down his sculpted chest and abs, down to the pale trimmed hair that led down to his very erect cock. She swallowed, suddenly more nervous. "Draco, um…"

"It's okay, I meant it; we can wait."

"It's not that; it's just. You're—"

That masculine chuckle again. "I think the word you're looking for is generously endowed."

"Fuck, that's one way to put it."

He hummed along the column of her neck. "I'll put in the work. I promise I'll be gentle."

"And if I don't want you to be gentle."

The soft nips stopped, and she felt his teeth settle into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, a quick sharp pressure, then soothed with gentle licks and presses of full lips.

"I'll be whatever you want me to be. If it means getting to be with you, anything, Hermione, anything." His body rippled, dragging the head of his cock across her slit. Hermione shuddered, her hips chasing the feeling. "You're amazing," he breathed into her neck before moving back up to claim her lips.

He kissed back down her body, quick nips at her still reddened nipples from his earlier attentions. Sharp little bites and soothing lips blazed a trail down her chest and belly. Her hips rose in anticipation of where he seemed to be going. "More?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, more. I could live between your thighs," Draco said and pressed a gentle kiss to her inner thigh. His tongue began to ease a trail along the juncture with her hip, continuing toward her center. "Would you let me wake you up this way?" he asked, letting his tongue slip into her folds.

"Gods! Yes!"

"Good girl." His tongue traced around her entrance and up to lave her clit. "Mmm…still so wet. Do you want to come like this?"

"Please."

Draco's hands took hold of her hips and lifted him until she fell further open to him. He continued to nuzzle and nip her inner thighs between teasing kisses around her clit and the length of her slit.

"Such a tease," she moaned as his tongue dipped into her and quickly retreated.

Draco's face appeared centered between her knees, a sheen of sweat across his brow, and her arousal on his lips. "Too much?

"Yes." His eyebrow quirked as her hips lifted towards him. "No. I don't know," she said, completely out of sorts. No one had ever made her feel like this.

He placed another gentle kiss on her inner thigh and drew her hips entirely off the bed to meet his mouth. No longer teasing, his lips and tongue demanded her full focus. He stroked and sucked, circled her clit with just the tip of his tongue. His fingers filled her as he sucked while pressing right there with just the right pressure. He kept her right on the edge of her pleasure and then carried her right over it, prolonging her ecstasy with slow, languid strokes of his tongue and fingers.

He crawled up her body, placing the softest gentlest kisses along the way. He settled his body to her side and tucked her close while she worked to regain her breath. He trailed his fingers across her still sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Are you ready?" he whispered.

"Please, Draco, please."

He raised her leg over his hip, opening her to him as they lay side-by-side, and rocked against her. A moan escaped from deep within her at the intensity of how he felt, gliding against her still sensitive flesh. He shifted his hips, and his tip pressed against her. He met her eyes. "Say, yes."

"Yes."

He pushed into her so so slowly. She could feel every centimeter of him connect with her walls, stretching her, filling her. He stilled and captured her lips, sweeping his tongue into her mouth. Her entire being screamed for him to move, but his hands held her tightly. He tugged her bottom lip, and it was all Hermione could do not to take control. She rolled her hips, tried to press her breasts to his chest, anything. Draco hummed into her mouth. "So needy—" kiss "—so tight—" kiss "—hot—" a tug on her lip "—wet. For me?"

"All for you."

"Mmm…I like the sound of that."

Hermione wiggled her arms free and wrapped them around Draco's neck, tangling her fingers into his hair. She tugged lightly and kissed him, slowly increasing the pressure. She leaned away and met his lust-darkened eyes. "I need you to move."

"Oh, yes." And he did. Hands still gripping her hip and shoulder, he pulled out slowly, holding her gaze, studying her the entire time. Just before he would have pulled entirely out of her, his hips snapped and filled her completely.

"Fuck! Draco—"He rolled their bodies until she straddled his hips, and then he shifted again so that he was sitting up, chest to chest.

"Can you come like this, Hermione?" he whispered in her ear. Not waiting for her answer, he lifted her and pulled her back down, an impressive demonstration of all the physical training required to be an Auror.

"I—I" she stuttered as he did it again, his hips tipping upon his downward pull, causing his pubic bone to rub against her clit with just the perfect angle and friction. "Yessssss."

Hermione threw her head back in pleasure as he repeated the lift, pull, thrust, with increasing speed and strength, his lips a burning heat along her neck and clavicle. She let herself get lost in the feel of him—his breath, his voice whispering her perfection between moans. Her climax hit her almost without warning. A shining edge that he kept her floating on with slow, deliberate thrusts and the nearly bruising pressure of his fingers digging into her flesh. Heat and that bone-deep sense of satisfaction stole control of her muscles, and she felt herself slump in his arms.

"You're so perfect. Can you take a bit more, love?"

"Mmm, yes, more," she moaned, barely coherent as he moved her onto her back without breaking their physical connection. Her whole body continued to tingle with aftershocks as Draco began to thrust back into her.

"So good, Hermione, so good, better than I ever imagined." His hand drifted across her belly, and between them, a light touch to her folds. She expected discomfort but found only pleasure slowly building with each gentle caress of his thumb. He circled her clit, coming close but never quite making contact, as his thrusts built: harder, faster, deeper. His head dipped without breaking rhythm, and his tongue flicked across her nipple, adding one more set of thrumming nerves to the equation. It was so much sensation; she thought she might drown in it all. It went on and on, his voice hoarse, "Please one more, Hermione, I'm so close, I want to see you fall apart one more time."

She was beyond words, a moan the closest to vocalization she could muster. Draco seemed to know what to do, like he had all evening, able to read her body so clearly. He sucked her nipple and flicked it harder as his thumb finally made contact with her clit. And that was it; she felt as if her whole body shattered into nothing but sensation. Distantly, she heard Draco call out her name with his release and felt his body collapse onto hers.

She couldn't be sure how much later it was, but she came back to her senses with her head resting comfortably on Draco's chest and his fingers twisting and spirling in her hair.

"Please tell me I don't have to buy another thousand cups of coffee before we can do that again."

She huffed out a laugh against Draco's chest. "No, but it is going to cost you."

"Oh, I promise my trust is substantial, name your price, witch," he teased.

"A date."

"And when I hit my next thousand cups?"

"I'll have to think of something exceptional for you."


One Thousand Cups Later…

Draco couldn't help his excitement. When he'd realized that he would fill his 99th reward card very close to their first anniversary, he decided to plan it out so it would fall on that exact day. He didn't know what surprise Hermione had planned for him, though he had his suspicions.

He strolled up to the counter thirty minutes before closing, but the shop was quiet, not a customer in sight. He saw her hair before any other part of her, swaying to some muggle music that, he grudgingly could admit, was growing on him. It took her a few moments to sense his presence, but the smile that greeted him stole his breath and made his heart pound. He loved her so.

"Hello, my love," he said, as she stretched across the counter to give him a brief kiss.

"A nice surprise. I wasn't expecting to see you until later tonight."

"Well, that was the plan, but I have something notable to cash in first."

Her eyebrow rose. "Is that so? Now, what could that be?" she feigned innocence, but he knew she'd been keeping track of his cards just as closely as he had been.

With a practiced gesture, he wandlessly conjured his 199th card. He held it out to Hermione between his index and pointer fingers, just as he'd done so many times over the past year and a half, but it always earned him a smile. A simple but playful bit of magic.

"Oh my, Mr. Malfoy, it appears you've earned yourself a special reward. And you know I've been thinking very carefully about what I wanted to give you."

"Have you now?" he asked, leaning against the counter.

She nodded, a sly smile curling her lips. "Oh, yes. I've decided to offer you the opportunity to move any one thing you want into my flat."

"Anything I want? So if I wanted to add one of those telly things into your bedroom?"

"You could."

"Or maybe create a space in the guest room for my brewing kit?" he suggested reaching out for one of her wild curls.

"That would fall within the parameters of the offer."

"Now, what if the one thing I wanted to move in was more substantial?"

Her eyes sparked. "I didn't set any limits."

"So, if I wanted to move my life into your flat?"

She beamed at him, and he felt himself melt like he did every time she looked at him that way. "Then, I would break out my book on undetectable expansion charms and get to work on my closet."

Feeling like his heart was going to burst right out of his chest, he hopped over the counter and wrapped his arms around Hermione. Once her arms came around his neck, he lifted and spun her in circle after circle, until they were both dizzy.

Draco gently set her back on her feet, holding her close. "I love you, Hermione."

"I love you, too."