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It was Saturday evening and fortunately for Hermione her classmates were not terribly studious. The library was blissfully empty. It was past curfew for the younger students and all of the eighth year students were likely acting like drunken fools in the common room they all shared. Hermione had gone to the weekly Saturday night parties for the first few weeks of school but quickly learned it wasn’t really all that fun if she wasn’t trashed. And having a hangover for the entirety of Sunday was simply not worth it to Hermione. So on Saturday nights, rather than read in her room where the walls vibrated with the sounds of music and her classmates revelry, she spent it in the library. The blissfully quiet, empty…
“Excuse me. This is my seat.” She put her hands on her hips.
“Oh, I beg your pardon. I’m afraid I didn’t see your name on it.” He stood up dramatically to glance down at the seat. He picked the chair up and turned it around to look at the back, then turned it upside down to look at the underside, and inspected every inch of the simple wood chair. Then he sat back down, leaning back in the chair on two legs with a cocky smirk. “Yes, I don’t see Hermione Granger, anywhere on the chair….” He let the chair fall forward on all fours and pushed himself away from the table. “Well perhaps we could find you another seat. This one…” He made a sweeping gesture over his lap. “Is simply calling your name love. Yes… I can hear it…”
“In dreams Malfoy, you insufferable prat.” She scoffed, letting her feet remain planted to the floor. “What are you even doing here?” She snapped.
“I might ask you the same question Granger.” He said coolly.
“I should think that is perfectly obvious.” She held out the books in her hands.
He grinned and made a sweeping gesture over the table where he had several books and pieces of parchment out.
“Fine. If you could take your brooding face elsewhere that would be lovely. I need to study and I prefer to do it in silence.” She suggested.
“What gives you the impression that I can’t be quiet?” He tilted his head, “In fact, you’re the one who’s yelling. I suspect you can’t be quiet.” One blonde brow twitched almost imperceptibly.
“You may not talk, but you’ll be breathing. And frankly I’d rather you not.” She turned her chin up.
He put his hands up. “How very cold. I haven’t done anything. I, like you, would like a place where I can actually hear myself think without the incessant music and screaming and drunken revelry of our peers. Seems we are kindred spirits.”
“Not likely.” She rolled her eyes.
“Fine. Have your seat then.” He stood up dramatically, chair legs scraping across the floor with a horrible screeching sound that echoed through the library. He pulled out his wand and waved it at his books and notes, gathering them into a pile. He picked them and moved away from the table.
She nodded briskly and sat down in her favorite chair at her favorite table. She was arranging her books around her when, with a smirk, he sat down directly across from her and began arranging his own books again. “You see Granger, in case you’ve forgotten, there is this little thing called a Muffliato. It’s like magic you, you cast this simple wand movement,” He demonstrated. “And it silences things. You won’t have to hear me breathe. You can pretend I’m dead. Or a very lifelike corpse because this happens to be my favorite table as well.” He waved his wand again, this time saying the incantation, and all sounds coming from the blonde twat were muffled entirely as she glared at him.
They continued this performative ritual every Saturday for a month.
↭
“I’m telling you, I don’t want to just get to do whatever I want just because of my reputation! It’s dishonest.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms with a smirk. “Besides, I think you of all people would prefer to live based on your merits rather than your reputation.” She raised a brow at him.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He put up a hand. “No, don’t answer that. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t get jobs based on merit. Simply that sometimes active experience is worth more than grades. Surely you agree. In your case, and indeed in the case of tweedle dee and tweedle dumb, it seems a bit of an insult actually to force you back here.” He held his hand out palm up for her response.
“Of course. But to disregard making those grades would seem as if we think we are better than literally everyone else who has had to have them. And I simply don’t think that’s the case. I know you think you’re better than everyone else so it makes sense why you think we don’t need to be here.”
He scoffed. “Granger, I don’t think I’m better than everyone else.”
“I thought Slytherins were supposed to be good liars.” She challenged.
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not lying. I don’t think I’m better than everyone else. In fact I think there are a great many people, just in this castle alone, let alone the rest of the world, that are much better people than I can ever dream of being.”
“Such as?” She tilted her head, thinking she’d got him.
“You.” He put his pencil down and looked at her.
She snorted. “Whatever you say, Malfoy.”
“I mean it. You are a thousand times better than me in every way.” He smirked. “Except flying of course.”
She put her quill down. “You just can’t help yourself can you?”
“Wouldn’t want to tear the fabric of reality entirely. Would we?” He said casually as he went back to his work.
He continued reading and taking notes and she observed him as casually as she could. He squinted when he was focusing. Sometimes he bit his lip and it drove her crazy. His breathing was even and the only sound he ever made was occasionally tapping his pencil against the book he was reading. When he wasn’t arguing with her of course. She’d found she quite looked forward to Saturday evenings unfortunately. It seemed he was the only person actually willing to debate with her. And she had to admit he could hold his own. He was smarter than she’d ever given him credit for.
His hair that had fallen and his brows were furrowed in concentration. He’d rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and rested his forehead in his left hand. She stared at the Dark Mark on his arm. He always kept it covered, except of course in here she’d noticed.
“Stop looking at it Granger.” He mumbled without looking up.
“I…”
He sighed and put his pencil down again. “What? You do it every week. Out with it. Whatever you have to say.”
“You keep it covered all the time. But not here, with me. Why?” She tilted her head, genuine question in her eyes.
“I don’t want you to forget.” He said simply. Then he stood abruptly and shut his book. Gathering it and all of his notes and leaving without another word.
She stared at his vacated seat and wondered if he’d be back the next week.
↭
The following week Hermione arrived at what she was now mentally referring to as their table in the library to find it empty. He always beat her there so she had to assume he wasn’t coming. She laid out her books and stared at the empty chair across from her.
She’d been working for about an hour when she heard the door to the library open and shut. Then the sound of his expensive dragon hide shoes on the tile. He appeared in front of her sans books. He pulled out the chair slowly and sat down. He was laughing to himself and shaking his head. She attempted not to acknowledge him. He was wearing the same clothes he always did but they were in disarray. For him anyway. He wasn’t wearing a tie and his shirt was unbuttoned fairly far down his chest. She could just see a small piece of a silvery scar left by Harry. His sleeves were rolled and his shirt and pants were wrinkled. His hair fell down over his face.
He wrapped his knuckles on the table. “Granger.”
“Malfoy.” She said, pointedly not looking at him.
“I seem to have forgotten my books.” He tested.
She put her quill down and looked up at him. “Then why are you here? Also, are you drunk?” She knew he was. He had a glassy look in his eyes and the smell of fire whiskey radiated off him in waves.
“Maybe.” He shrugged.
“May I ask why?” It was, as far as she could tell, very unlike him.
“You may ask, I may not tell you.” He said in an obnoxiously mocking tone.
“Malfoy, why are you here?” She said, losing her patience with his constant dramatics and performative routine.
“I honestly couldn’t say Granger.” He shook his head, letting his eyes fall closed and his head fall back.
She stared at him. He swallowed. His face was flushed, with the alcohol she was sure and the bit of his chest that was exposed had a light sheen of sweat. “You don’t expect me to believe that you missed me or some such nonsense.” She said.
He raised his head slowly. “Oh but I do. All week long. I look forward to Saturday nights more than you know. When I realized that today I decided to get drunk instead of coming here.”
“Yet here you are.”
“Here I am.”
They simply stared at each other. She wasn’t sure what to say to that. His hands were clasped together on the table and she looked down at his arm. “I didn’t forget. But I’d prefer to because I don’t think it’s who you are anymore.” She paused, sucking in a breath. “In fact I don’t think it’s ever been who you are. Not really. You’re a lot of things Malfoy. Arrogant. Performative. Self-centered. Privileged. Insufferable…”
“Yes yes, I get the point.” He rolled his eyes.
“But you are not evil and you never have been.” She finished.
He let his head drop to the table to rest on his folded hands. He mumbled under his breath. “Why do you do that?”
“What?” She rolled her eyes. Honestly if he couldn’t find a job in the wizarding world, the Royal Shakespeare Company was calling his name.
“Treat me like a human being. Let me off the hook.” He said, resting his chin on his hands so he could look at her.
“Honestly, Malfoy. It’s because I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of hating. And I have no desire to fight you or hate you. Aside from our usual arguments that is. I rather enjoy those. I’d rather expend my energy elsewhere. Unfortunately I’ve found it rather easy.”
“Me too.” He said softly.
She clapped her hands together. “Now that we’ve established that it’s okay for us to look forward to this and that we don’t hate each other, would you like to explain why you got drunk?”
“Not really, no.” He said, looking away.
She slid her parchment into her book and shut it, laying the quill on top, and pushing it away. “Very well then. Why did you come anyway?”
“I told you. Because I look forward to this. I think you do too.” He smirked.
“I see you’ve recovered from your pity party then.” She laughed. “You should be a pity party planner. You’re quite talented.”
“You’re just full of backhanded compliments tonight Granger.” He smirked.
“I live to serve.”
↭
The following week she beat him to the library again. He only arrived a few minutes late though. He had a messenger bag which she’d never seen before and was carrying two cups of tea. He sat one in front of her and the other by his chair before pulling his books out of the bag.
She narrowed her eyes and picked up the tea, taking a sip. It was perfect.
“I don’t know how you drink that. I’m afraid you might go into shock from the amount of sugar. Tell me. Is that why you incessantly bounce your leg under the table?” He asked with a raised brow.
“How did you know how much sugar I put in my tea?” She asked, ignoring the jab. She heard it enough from her other friends.
“I’m a Slytherin. We are very observant. Unlike Gryffindors who are entirely oblivious to the world around them in the simplest of ways.” He explained as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
She ignored his small jab and responded. “Well thank you for the tea. It’s just what I needed.”
He pulled out his chair and sat down, taking a sip of his own tea. “I know. You were yawning in the common room at lunch.”
He was observant and she found it both endearing and unsettling. They settled into their usual rhythm following last week's conversation. They had stopped putting silencing charms around each other and would occasionally ask questions or share notes on their mutual classes.
After a couple of hours he put his quill down and leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. He cleared his throat. “Granger,” He looked at her until she put her quill down. “I was wondering if maybe…you’d want to do this some other time. Aside from Saturdays.”
“But Saturday nights are so quiet and the place is empty.” She said. She'd chosen the day and time very deliberately.
“No, I know. I didn’t mean instead of but in addition to.” He tilted his head back and forth. “Actually what I really mean is without books and in another location.”
She raised a brow. “Are you asking me to hang out? You could just say that.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t know if you’d want to. We hadn’t really talked about it other than agreeing that we don’t hate each other.”
“Alright. What did you have in mind?” She closed her book.
“Lunch maybe. In Hogsmeade. Or…I don’t know. To be honest I expected you to laugh in my face.” He said, sounding more nervous than she’d ever heard him.
She grinned broadly at him. “Malfoy, are you asking me on a date?”
He looked away. “That depends on what your answer is. Just tell me so I can start planning my pity party.”
She chuckled. “Sure. How about tomorrow?”
He sat up straight. “Oh. Yes. Good. Tomorrow then. Meet in the common room at half twelve then?”
The next day she stood in her room staring in the mirror at her untamable mess of hair. Huffing with exasperation she braided it to have done with it like she did most days. She came down the stairs into the common room which was mostly empty. He was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the wall. In his usual black trousers but wearing a green jumper.
“Hi.” She said quietly.
“Hi.” He grinned.
As they were leaving the common room Neville, who was playing wizards chess with Terry, called after her. “Hey Mione! Where are you off to?”
“Lunch!” She chirped.
“With Malfoy?” Was Neville’s strangled reply.
“Yep! See you later Nev!” She called.
They opted to walk to Hogsmeade. It was October so it was perfectly cool outside and the leaves were changing. “This is weird isn’t it?” He finally asked, looking down at her through his sunglasses.
She shrugged. “Not if we don’t want it to be.” She continued walking but realized he had stopped. She turned to look at him. He’d stopped in the middle of the middle of the bridge they were crossing. She walked back to him, taking his arm and tugging on it. “Come on.”
“Can I kiss you?” He asked very suddenly.
She blinked. She hadn’t been expecting it. She’d thought about it of course. Since that first night they studied together when she watched him biting his lip in focus. She’d thought about it a lot. But somehow in the back of mind she hadn’t expected it to ever happen.
“Alright.” She said quietly with a nod.
He removed his hands from his pockets and brought them up to her face, cradling it. He moved in slowly as if unsure. Then his lips were pressed to hers. Warm and soft. He swept his tongue along the seam of her lips and she parted them slightly. He licked the inside of her lower lip before exploring further. Their tongues tangled together and he started walking her backwards until her bum hit the stone wall at the edge of the bridge.
He pressed her into it and she hummed. He pulled away. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…”
She held the front of his shirt, pulling him back to her. His hands slid to the back of her neck and she breathed him in. His forehead rested against hers. “I like your hair like this.” He gave her braid a light tug. “But I like it better when…” He grinned against lips. “It’s wild.”
↭
Their lunch had been fun. He’d kissed her again at her door. They’d argued about random things much like they always did and she found that her face hurt from smiling. She’d been thinking about it all week. When they passed each other in the halls they said hello. One day he’d even sat beside her in ancient runes.
When Saturday arrived she was nervous. Which was silly but she was. He was already seated at their table with two cups of tea. He hadn’t opened his books yet though.
“Hi.” She said as she put hers down.
She sat down across from him. “Hi.” He replied again. It felt silly. But in a fun and exciting way. “You wore your hair down.” He said simply.
She gave a small nod. “I did.”
He grinned “come here”. He nodded his head and she stood up and came to stand beside him. He picked up her hand and ran his thumb over her fingers. He raised a brow at her and she blushed. “Good girl.” He said.
She sucked in a breath and he chuckled. “Thought so.” He moved back away from the table and pulled on her hand until she stood between him and the table. He stood up in front of her, pressing her against it. He leaned in to kiss her as he had on the bridge. This time running his fingers into her hair, grasping it at her scalp.
She was helpless to resist him. It was the strangest feeling. His presence overwhelmed her. Whereas as children his presence gave her an overwhelming feeling of dread and hatred. Now it was something else entirely. The next thing she knew his hands were on the backs of her thighs, lifting her onto the table. She opened them automatically and he stepped between them.
She tilted her head up as he devoured her mouth. She pulled him down closer by his hair and he groaned into her mouth. His scent filled her nostrils as he pulled his lips away from hers to kiss her jaw. He smelled like old books and something spicy that she couldn’t place. Cinnamon or cloves maybe. And apples.
His hands moved down to settle on her waist. He detached himself from her neck, gasping for breath “Granger…”
“Yes?” She asked, chest rising and falling rapidly.
His fingers danced along the bottom of her school skirt. “I want to taste you. Let me. I’m good at it. Let me show you.”
The words themselves sounded like pleading but the tone of his voice was dripping with arrogance and unfortunately…she liked it. A lot. And she believed him. His tongue was sharp with wit and the way he argued with her. She was certain he’d be good at this too.
He gave her a cocky smile. “You know you want to.”
She nodded and started unbuttoning her shirt. He watched her intently. He’d seemed so nervous before. Which was admittedly unlike him. But he’d gone back to his usual cocky self. But having it directed at her in this manner was turning her on. Her whole body was hot. She felt reckless. And she loved it.
She shrugged her shirt off and his eyes locked onto her chest. Clad in a simple black bra that she would have changed if she’d anticipated this. His hands gripped her waist. They were large. Larger than she’d realized and his fingers stretched across her back. She leaned back on her hands. He pulled down her bra and one breast popped out. His lips were immediately on it. “Fuck, Granger. I can’t believe you’ve had these under here all this time.” He sucked one dusty pink nipple into his mouth. “Well I can believe it. But my gods.”
“Malfoy…” She breathed.
“Yes, love?”
“Please.” She hated how whiny her voice sounded.
He reached behind him and pulled his chair close until he was sitting down in front of her. “Fucking love the library on Saturday nights.” He mused as he flipped her skirt up. He ran his fingers lightly over the outside of her already soaked knickers. Just teasing the edge of them with a finger. He hooked his fingers in the top and pulled them down. She lifted her arse enough for him to get them off.
He lifted one leg and set her foot on his thigh. He kissed the inside of her knee. Then up the inside of her thigh. Moving to do the same on the other side. She whined in protest, rolling her hips in an attempt to get closer to his mouth. He chuckled and his breath ghosted over her.
She could hear her breathing echoing through the library. She was halfway to a thought of worrying about it when he flattened his tongue against her center. Running it from her opening to her clit. She fell back against the table. “Maybe all the sugar from your tea is what makes you taste so sweet.”
“Shut up.” She growled.
“There she is.” He said proudly as he moved down to thrust his tongue into her. One of his hands gripped her thigh, pushing it out. While the other arm came to rest on her abdomen, his fingers circled her clit. He fucked her with his tongue, bringing her to the edge faster than she’d ever gone before.
“Fuck, Malfoy!” She cried, tugging on his hair. Why did he have to be so fucking good at it?
He switched, bringing his lips up to suck on her clit and pushing two fingers inside of her, curling them up. As he held the suction over her clit he flicked over it with just the tip of his tongue. Curling and dragging his fingers inside of her. She screamed. The sound bounced off the walls and tiles. Squeezing through the shelves. Her body shook with the force of her orgasm. Her fingers and toes tingled and it felt like sinking into a warm bath. S she was processing this and the sound of her own scream. The sound of him drinking from her floated to her ears. He moved away from her clit to lick into her entrance once more. Taking everything that poured out of her.
When he finally pulled away, she lay limp on the table. Their table. Staring at the ceiling of the restricted section. “Sweet Circe.” She breathed.
“I told you.” He said. She could hear the satisfaction in his voice but she couldn’t bring herself to care. He took her hand, helping her to sit up. He kissed her chastely. “You have no fucking clue how long I’ve wanted to do that. In here actually.”
“I’ve always fancied the idea of library sex.” She said in agreement.
“Of course you have.” He snorted. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “See you next Saturday then. Or maybe I’ll sit beside you in ancient runes again and distract you.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Wouldn’t I?” He raised a brow.
↭
Incidentally he had not been joking. He had used wandless magic to discard her knickers without warning and proceeded to finger her under the desk. Much to her chagrin, he’d been right in one of their early library conversations in saying that she couldn’t be quiet. He of course hadn’t been referring to this as far as she was aware but it irked her all the same. He cast a muffliato on her just in time to quieten her moans.
The following Saturday they sat in the library again, actually studying. “I told you.” He said in a knowing voice. “You are incapable of being quiet. No matter the circumstance. I know you try so hard to be good…but you just can’t do it.” He shook his head.
“I most certainly can! I just wasn’t trying.” She crossed her arms defiantly. “I’ll prove it.”
“Let's have it then.” He said with a laugh. Leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms behind his head.
She stood up abruptly and moved to stand beside him. She grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her hip. He ran it down her thigh and back up under her skirt. His eyes widened when he found she wasn’t wearing any knickers. “I do love a witch who is well prepared.” He said.
She motioned with her hands and he moved away from the table. She dropped to her knees in front of him and his eyes widened. “Did you think I wouldn’t return the favor?” She asked with a smirk of her own.
She reached for his belt, unhooking it along with unbuttoning his trousers. She reached in and grasped his cock. It was already almost completely hard and she pulled it out. He watched in shock as she lowered her head over him, flicking her tongue over the tip. He closed his eyes briefly. “Good…”
But she didn’t allow him to finish the statement and give him the satisfaction before she took him all the way to the back of her throat, hollowing her cheeks on the way up. He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, she noted with satisfaction.
She tasted the salty bit of precum leak from the tip and she flicked her tongue over it as she looked up at him. His cock jerked in her mouth and she pulled off. His mouth fell open and he groaned in frustration. “Mmm, seems like I’m not the only one who can’t be quiet.” She tutted.
She stood up, picking up the bottom of her skirt, she moved to straddle him. “Fuck, Granger are you serious? We don’t have to…if it’s too fast. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
“Shut up.” She said as she lowered herself on his cock. “I told you I always fancied library sex.” She rolled her hips, feeling the drag of his cock against her walls. She put her hands on his shoulders for leverage and he held her waist.
“Living up to your expectations?” He asked as he licked up the column of her neck.
She groaned. “Touch me.” She said.
“You’re demanding all of a sudden.” He commented but did it anyway. His fingers found her clit, circling it lightly.
She clenched around him and he grunted, pausing the movement of his fingers briefly. “Fucking Salazar, Hermione.” His head fell to her shoulder.
She preened at the sound of her given name falling from his lips. Planting her feet on the floor, she lifted herself off him and lowered back down. He was moaning and cursing under his breath. She was quiet. Her pride at this spurred her on and she rotated her hips, rocking back and forth. He was incoherent.
How he was able to maintain his rhythm with his fingers she was unsure. But he did. Within a matter of minutes she was squeezing his cock like a vice. Her lips were locked shut in an effort to be quiet. “It’s alright, love. Let me hear you. Let it out.” He whispered in her ear before nipping at her earlobe.
And she did, screaming louder than she had when he’d been on his knees for her. “Draco!” Her body seized, shaking with the force of her orgasm. When she slumped against him, he grabbed her hips, taking over and driving up into her. In a few thrusts he was spilling into her with his own moans echoing in her ears.
As he slowed he let his hands fall from her hips to the arms of the chair and he relaxed back against it and she fell against his chest. He hadn’t even taken any of his clothes off.
He laughed into her hair, moving it away from her neck. “You were so good, being loud for me.”
She sat up. “You obnoxious, arrogant, performative, insufferable, twat. You tricked me. I was being perfectly quiet. You on the other hand….” She crossed her arms.
“I never said I could be quiet.” He chuckled. He lifted her by the hips and his softening cock slipped out of her. Evidence of both their orgasms dripping out of her. “Sit down.” He patted the table with his hand and she perched herself on the edge.
He pushed her legs open and he proceeded to lick her clean. Every time his tongue brushed over her clit she shuttered, still sensitive.
“Draco?”
“Hmm?” He asked as he continued his ministrations between her legs, now lazily licking all around her.
“What is this? What are we doing?” She asked seriously.
“Well, if you aren’t opposed to the idea I’d say we are dating. I’d like that.” He looked up at her and pulled her skirt down. He helped her sit up and summoned her discarded shirt.
“I’m not either.” She smiled at him.
“Good.” He nodded, cupping her jaw with his left hand. “Because unfortunately I do love to argue with you, call you a good girl, and fuck you in the library. But I also love your laugh, your sense of humor, your wit, your mind, and everything else about you. Except for your detestable taste in the way you prepare your tea.”
She pulled him to her by the front of his shirt and kissed him. She thought that maybe liking all those things about him wasn’t so unfortunate after all.