Archive of Our Own

Listening Options

Stream here:

Or listen/download on Archive.org here

The green flash and initial step into the living room of Theo’s townhouse was something she was unfortunately used to at that point. The expectant look on her best friend's face, his green eyes sparkling with the ‘I told you so’ she knew he wished he could say but never would. The sigh as she dropped her bag onto the wooden floor was practiced, rehearsed over the years of what had become somewhat of a routine for everyone involved. 

If Hermione was sick of it, she was sure that everyone else was as well. 

Theo stood from his spot on the sofa without a word and made his way to the bar cart he had under the window. As she sank into the cushions, the only sound in the room was her occasional sniffles and the clinking of the crystal decanter against the glasses he had pulled out. Finally, he turned back to her and brought her one of the two drinks he had poured, bringing his own to his lips as he watched her swallow hers in one gulp. 

The firewhisky was smooth, the most expensive the git could buy she was sure, but it still burned. It was the nature of the alcohol, to punish you as you drank it and that was exactly what she felt she needed right then. Her fingers ran along the smooth rim of the glass before she looked up and met that knowing gaze she hated. How he knew what had happened before she could even say a word because this wasn’t new for them. 

“What happened this time?” His voice held none of the judgement the words maybe should carry after this long but she knew it was there. It might not have been prominent in Theo, but she was well aware she was the idiot in this situation. 

A whispered spell had the decanter floating up from the bar cart and into her hand where she poured more alcohol into her glass, this time staring at it for a moment instead of downing it immediately. She took a deep breath, her throat still scratchy and her nose running. 

“He brought me roses,” she said quietly and avoided the hardening of Theo’s eyes. 

He stood abruptly, pacing the room as he finished his own drink. “That fucking idiot. Are you alright? Do you need a potion?” 

Hermione shook her head softly and shrugged. “I’m fine. I just need some…time away before I see him again.” 

“What you need is a fucking sanity check, Mi.” He sighed and stopped his frantic pacing, running a hand down his face. “How much longer are you going to put up with this ‘relationship’?” 

“There’s no need for the air quotes, Theo. It is a relationship.” She was glaring at him before she closed her eyes and let her head fall against the back of the sofa. “I care about him. I can’t just walk away because things aren’t perfect.” 

Theo had many looks he gave Hermione, a glint to his eyes or a crinkle of his nose that they had mastered in the years since they became inseparable during their eighth year. It was how she knew the moment he went from looking at her in borderline disappointment to genuine concern without any real perceptible change to his features. He stepped forward and took a seat on the edge of the coffee table, grabbing her hands in his as he gathered his thoughts. 

“I’m not going to lecture you on the choices you make when it comes to him because I’ve done it enough and not only are you surely tired of hearing me, frankly, I’m exhausted trying to get through to you.” Her heart fractured at the thought of her being that infuriatingly stubborn that even Theo was throwing in the towel. He shook his head when she opened her mouth to try and say something, anything to make him feel better but she wasn’t sure who she would truly be trying to convince. Him or herself. “I think you need a larger break. Not the separation of a few towns but a full continent between you, yeah?” 

“What are you talking about?” she asked, pulling away from him and leaning back, her arms crossed over her chest. 

He stood, a newfound smile on his face as he slipped back into the Theo most everyone knew and not the quieter version few had the privilege to witness. “A trip! Yes. Merlin, this is brilliant. I’m bloody brilliant, did you know?” 

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh softly as she watched him hurry out of the room to his study. She was alone with her thoughts for only a moment before he ran back in and stopped in front of her. 

“Are you going to tell me what you’re talking about now?” She cocked her head, a smile curling the corners of her mouth. 

“You, witch, are going to take a much needed holiday with me. Get some space between you two and perhaps some clarity on the situation,” he said, his smile never faltering. 

She shook her head as she bit her lip. “I can’t go on holiday, Theo.” 

His scoff was loud and pointed as he rolled his eyes. “You have enough saved up time that you could move to Greece for the year and still be fine.” 

“Greece?” Her brows were high up on her forehead as she watched his smile grow, that simple dimple on his left cheek more prominent. 

“Where I’m taking you.” 

“Theo! I can’t go to bloody Greece!” She practically screeched the words even though part of her hoped he wouldn’t give her the choice. 

Theo shook his head and tsked softly. “I wasn’t asking. Go pack.” 

“I can’t go back to that flat,” she said, grasping at anything to fight her desire to give in to him. 

He leaned forward and pulled on her arm, lifting her from the sofa and turning her, pushing her in the direction of his guest rooms with a swat on her bum. “Then it’s a good thing you have an entire bloody wardrobe here, isn’t it? Pack one of those delicious bikinis you showed me a few summers ago. The light blue one!” 

“You’re lucky you’re gay, Theo!” She called back as she hurried down the hall, a smile on her lips. 

“Why? Because you’d fall in love with me if I wasn’t? A hazard of the charm, I’m afraid, princess!” He called back before she flipped him off and disappeared around the corner. 

The air was salty as they landed on a platform on the beach. A breeze blew off the surface and through her curls, her hand shading her eyes as she turned and took in the beautiful surroundings. The water was clearer than anything she had ever seen before, the sun bright and high in the sky, a stark contrast from the gloomy June days that she had left behind in England. 

“This place is gorgeous,” she said, her eyes taking in everything as Theo grabbed her hand and looped it though his arm as he turned them toward the large building that had to be a hotel. 

It was tall, she guessed no less than twenty floors and the outside was bright white, so clean she wasn’t entirely sure it hadn’t been charmed to stay that way. 

“It’s the first resort of its kind and the owners figured what better place to start such a venture than next to the beautiful Greek waters,” he said as they drew closer and closer to the doors that lead inside. “They’re committed to bringing a luxury holiday experience to wizarding families of all walks of life. The island here is completely secluded from the Muggles and there's a small town down the shore where most of the employees live.” 

She looked up at the building as they approached the doors, her head tilting as she tried to read the large sign. “What's the name?” 

He grabbed the handle and pulled the door open for her. “Κατιφές.” 

“What’s it mean?” 

Theo cleared his throat as his hand settled on the middle of her back, leading her into the hotel. “I’m not sure. I’m a bit lackluster in my Greek, I’m afraid.” 

Before she could push him, call him out on his obvious lie, Hermione’s jaw went slack as they stepped into the lobby of the resort. It was beautifully Grecian without appearing like they were pandering to the culture, merely that they carved out a spot for their presence within the ancient world and settled right where it allowed them to. She took in the carved pillars and sculpted ceiling, her eyes racing over everything as she desperately attempted to drink it all in. 

Theo’s words echoed in her mind and she couldn’t help but be impressed by whoever had done all of this. She had learned long ago that the wizarding world was filled with things that seemed to be locked behind status or station, leaving those with less of either to never be able to experience so much their world had to offer. The fact that the owners were doing what they could to go against that? Well, that was brilliant in her opinion. 

“You said the island is secluded magically?” she asked as she mindlessly followed him to the check in desk. 

He chuckled and she snapped her attention to him before blushing slightly and averting her eyes. “It is. However, they have partnered with a Muggle resort on the mainland to allow them to do the same. It’s been a big success so far.” 

“How long has it been here?” 

He shrugged, accepting the key from the wizard behind the counter. “A few years. Shall we? I don’t know about you but I need something fruity to drink and someone sculpted to stare at.” 

She hadn’t wanted to give him the satisfaction but unfortunately for Hermione, Theo knew exactly what bikini looked fucking fantastic on her so she decided to simply ignore his smug smile as they took a seat down on the beach and she pulled off the wrap she had been wearing over the light blue pieces she had put on. She hummed as she laid back on her chair, the sun hitting her skin but the cooling charms woven into the concealment wards around the island making it the perfect level of warmth. 

Her curls were tied back in a plait, a hat shading her face from the rays, and she decided that maybe Theo had been right as she felt the relaxation begin to settle in. This might have been exactly what she needed to reset and recharge before she went back to England to try and fix things between her and Ron. 

She knew he meant well, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone through the effort to get her flowers in the first place. Was it truly his fault he’d gotten the wrong ones? She hadn’t reminded him in a long time. And he worked a lot, helping with more and more cases that took up so much of his time. Was it really his fault that he missed dinner more often than not? Sure, maybe he could send her a patronus letting her know he’d be late but maybe it was her fault for not just expecting it? 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Theo?” Someone asked and Hermione froze. 

Her reverie was broken by the intrusion of a brand new presence in their space. Only, this wasn’t a new person. No, Hermione knew this man entirely too well and as she opened her eyes, she was grateful for the shades that were covering them as she took him in. 

Draco Malfoy was all sharp lines and defined muscles, completely on show from the way those frankly indecently short swim pants clung to his thick thighs. He held a tray in his hand, most definitely carrying the drinks she knew Theo had ordered for both of them and she bit her lip, watching as he rolled his eyes at their shared best friend. 

Theo sighed from his seat next to her. “Am I not allowed to be here? I thought this was an inclusive establishment. Forgive me but I might need to have a word with the owners if they are going to be so picky.” 

“What do you want, you git?” He furrowed his pale brows before he finally glanced in Hermione’s direction, the tray immediately falling from his grasp and spilling the alcohol across the sand and her legs. “Shit, I’m sorry.” 

He reached for his wand but Hermione held up her hands and smiled, getting him to stop where he was. “It’s alright, Malfoy. No harm done at all.” 

“How long is that going to take for you to remake? I’m simply parched, Drakey,” Theo said as he laid back, his arms flexed behind his head as Draco glared, sending a stream of water from his wand and right at the wizard’s face. He yelped, rather loudly, before he yanked the towel from under Hermione to wipe his face, sending her toppling over off her chair. 

“Theo!” She stood and brushed the sand from her legs and bum, looking up to watch as Draco blushed and looked away quickly. 

She had always noticed Draco, she wasn’t a blind woman so it would be hard not to, but it had gotten so much harder as they had gotten to know each other over the years. Seeing how kind and sweet the man really was, how charming he was when he wasn’t trying to turn on that Malfoy bravado that seemed to sustain him. But it was the small things that had caused a dangerous situation within Hermione’s mind, something only Theo knew about. 

How with every promotion or milestone she reached at work, he would always send her an arrangement of flowers, somehow always including her favorites. Three Christmases back, he had found her not only a first edition of Hogwarts: A History but also the journals Bathilda kept when writing the text, filled with information she had just kept out of the final version. 

Ron still didn’t even know what her favorite book was, despite their bookshelves being lined with precisely ten copies. 

“So, what are you doing working here, Draco? I didn’t realize you were in the market for summer employment,” she joked, laughing nervously as she filled the silence that had fallen as she observed him. 

Draco pulled his attention from Theo and met her gaze, his grey eyes finding hers easily. “One of my employees needed the day off and I was here so I figured I could cover the few hours needed.” 

Her brows furrowed as she looked from the blond to her best friend. “Your employees? Are you the owner?” 

“Didn’t Theo tell you? I assumed that’s why he brought you here. Because we own it?” 

Hermione stared at the smug look on Theo’s face and she felt the tears burn at the back of her eyes. Her fists clenched at her sides before she nodded once and quickly wiped the traitorous tear before it fell. She bent down and grabbed her things before she met Draco’s concerned gaze and froze slightly. Because that was the root of the problem, wasn’t it? Draco always being there and reacting exactly the way he should around her? Or rather, exactly how Ron should react. 

Theo knew how she felt about Draco, how what she felt ate at her because she shouldn’t feel that way. She shouldn’t notice him the way she did or fantasise about a man that was simply just a friend and considering she had a boyfriend, was all he was meant to be. She had thought Theo knew better than to play with her emotions like that, especially after such a big fight between her and Ron but she realized that he must have found this entertaining. Must have gotten joy out of watching her squirm. 

Without another word, Hermione turned on her heel and left the beach. Her feet carried her up the walkway, blocking out the words Draco said to Theo before she heard him call out to her. She shook her head, picking up her speed to grab the door and make her way to the lifts. Unfortunately, Hermione had never been a truly lucky witch because as the doors were closing on her, Draco shot out his hand to stop them and stepped inside before pushing the button for the nineteenth floor, right where her room was located. 

“What do you want, Malfoy?” she asked, keeping her eyes locked on the rising number. 

He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. Hermione tried, she really did, to not stare at him in the mirrors on the wall but when he was just there, it was harder than she anticipated and she was still a woman with eyes at the end of the day. 

“Theo has always been an annoying git. Something I’m sure you know after all these years.” He sighed and let his arms drop and she looked up at him for the first time since he entered the lift with her. “Don’t let it ruin your stay.” 

She most certainly did not stomp her foot as she huffed, she didn’t. “I didn’t even want to come on this holiday. Nott bloody made me.” 

Draco chuckled, a deep and smooth sound, as he nodded. “Sounds like Theo.” 

Hermione ran a hand through her hair, biting her bottom lip before she shrugged. “He thought it would be good for me. Ron and I got into a fight, and Theo thought I might need more space than the entirety of the British Isles could give me.”  

Draco seemed to just be listening, giving her the space to speak and let it all out but how did she do that? She already felt pathetic for always subjecting their friends to their fights, she didn’t need to burden Draco with that too. She looked down at the floor, her bare feet covered in a dusting of sand as toes wiggled slightly. She focused on the matching blue polish there and breathed deeply. 

“Would you want to come with me? I could show you the island. Theo’s not wrong in that you need a break but lying on the beach with your thoughts isn’t going to help.” As he finished speaking, the lift dinged before the doors slid open to her floor. “Sulking in your room over Theo’s stupidity is even worse.”

Hermione wavered, looking between him and the hall, her lip between her teeth. Time alone with Draco Malfoy could prove to be dangerous. Not because she thought anything had the potential to happen, he would need to be interested for that to occur, but that she was meant to be moving on from her silly little crush. Alone with him, on an island in Greece, that didn’t seem like a way to make that happen. 

And yet, Hermione stayed standing right where she was and nodded slowly. “I would love that.” 

Then, Draco gave her a smile that had her heart racing and she knew she was fucked. No matter how the rest of the day went, she felt as the pieces of her infatuation with him slid into their final places and locked in. 

He reached around her and pressed the button to the lobby as he continued to look down at her, his eyes never leaving hers. “Brilliant.” 

They were both still barefoot but from what Hermione had seen, it seemed that was entirely normal for the people around the island. She had tied the thin wrap around her hips and let her hair out of the braid, the curls free around her shoulders, flowing freely as she sped up to look at the different locally made items out on a stall on the side of the road. Draco was watching her, she could feel his eyes on her even as she went from shop to shop, taking in the mixture of magical and muggle items being sold throughout the small town. 

It wasn’t entirely new, Hermione feeling his gaze on her but there was something different about it there. Charged with new feelings and a sense of something she couldn’t, or perhaps wouldn’t, put a name to. 

“We should think about getting some food in you soon. I don’t need you passing out on me, Granger.” Draco smirked as she turned around to face him, ready to argue just as her stomach growled. 

She rolled her eyes as his lips curled even more, a look that was irritating on Theo but entirely too tempting on Draco. “Fine. Where can a girl get some good food around here?” 

Draco held out his hand to her and she looked from his open palm to his face with hesitation. “Come on, where’s that Gryffindor recklessness?” 

“Bravery is the word you’re looking for.” 

She slipped her hand in his and then he tried to kill her by winking, the cheeky git. “Aren’t they the same thing?” 

Before she could respond, there was a pulling at her navel that always accompanied being side alonged and she blinked, suddenly surrounded by a bustling kitchen. The chef was shouting orders, his voice loud and firm before he turned at the sound of their entrance. 

“Mr. Malfoy. Your basket is waiting on the counter over there,” the surly man covered in tattoos, including what she was sure were Azkaban runes, said as he motioned to the wicker object across the room. 

“Thank you, Alfred. I owe you,” Draco said as he pulled her through the chaos and picked up the basket in his free hand. 

Alfred rolled his eyes and then shooed them away. “Get the fuck out of my kitchen, you bloody menace.” 

“You love me.” 

Hermione suppressed a laugh as the large man pretended to gag and shook his head. “Please. I need to prepare food here.” 

Draco laughed as he pulled her out of the room and while still holding the basket, he looked down at her and tightened his grip on her hand. 

“Are we not eating here at the hotel?” She asked, looking down the hall to where she assumed the dining room was. 

He scoffed and shook his head. “As if I would take you to do something so common. Hold tight.” 

She did as she was told and surrendered to the feeling of Draco’s apparation before she found herself standing on the long dock, right in front of a beautiful sailboat. Draco stepped aboard, set down the basket, and turned to her. He held out his hands once more, this time to offer her support as he helped her onto the boat. Hermione couldn't help but look out at the clear water, the sunshine glistening on the top as she shielded her eyes. 

“I had no idea you even knew how to sail a boat,” she said casually, though she watched him out of the corner of her eye. 

“I’m full of hidden talents, Granger,” he responded as she turned to face him, arching her brow. “We Malfoys are a talented bunch.” 

She looked over the boat, her eyes taking in the ropes and sails. Then she laughed and shook her head before taking a seat next to him where he was distributing the food onto a blanket. “The boat’s charmed, isn’t it?” 

Draco popped a grape into his mouth and smirked before he leaned back on his hands. “As I said, many talents.” 

They ate in relative silence for a while, the only sounds the slight movements they were making and the water against the edge of the boat. It wasn’t until they had wrapped around to the opposite side of the island, away from where it seemed a majority of the guests would be, and their food had been eaten or packed away that Draco finally spoke to her. 

“So…” 

She smirked into the bottle of water. “Uh oh. Is it that bad?” 

He shook his head as he chuckled. “Maybe you’re up for talking about what happened with Weasley.” 

She sighed as she looked down, brushing her hair out of her face. “I thought you brought me out here to forget about my crumbling relationship?” 

“Oh, come on, Granger. You know I’d never miss an opportunity to shit on the Weasel,” he said, trying to joke before his eyes narrowed as he looked out over the water, his jaw tight as if he were clenching his teeth. “Besides, I hate to break it to you but I’m not sure you can call that disaster crumbling.”

Maybe his words were meant to hurt, or they would have been at one point in their past but she knew him better by now. She knew that he was honest but he never meant to be malicious with what he was saying. Was calling her relationship a disaster harsh? Sure, but it wasn’t entirely wrong either. 

“Ronald had been away on a trip with Harry for work for the past two weeks. He used to go on trips like this all the time in the beginning but this was the first time in a while. When he got home, he had brought me this beautiful bouquet of flowers. Only, they were bloody roses.” She was picking at the skin around her thumb as she glared out at the water. 

“Surely he knows you’re allergic to roses? Or that your favorites are marigolds?” Draco asked, sounding genuinely affronted by what Ron had done. 

Hermione however, was stuck on the second part of what Draco had said. “You know my favorite flower?”

She wouldn’t have believed the tinge to his cheeks if she hadn’t witnessed it herself as Draco shrugged. “You forget we had every potions class together for seven years. I could see it in your face how upset you were every time Snape told us to collect the flowers to use.” 

She didn’t know how to process that, knowing Draco might have been watching her just as much as she had been him. It had been pathetic in their eighth year, knowing just how he took his tea or the precise order he prepared and ate his breakfast in. Which sections of the Daily Prophet he would read and which he thought were rubbish. 

Hermione shook her head, clearing her throat. “No. After nine years together, Ron still doesn’t know my favorites, and if I don’t remind him, he forgets I’m allergic to roses. It was my fault really, I hadn’t reminded him in a while.” 

“Don’t. Don’t blame yourself because he can’t give a fuck enough to remember such minor, simple things about who you are,” he bit out, his grey eyes hard as he stared at her. He took a deep breath and sat up. “Nine years? He’s never proposed?” 

Hermione just shrugged. They had talked about it. Merlin knew she had wondered and tried to get him to tell her why they weren’t moving toward marriage but he always just assured her they weren’t ready. Only, she was. She had a good career trajectory and great friends. She was ready but Ron insisted they weren’t. 

“He says he wants to wait,” she told him, rather pathetically in her opinion. 

Draco was silent for a moment before he spoke softly. “No sane wizard would wait to marry a witch like you.” 

Her head snapped up and the air was sucked from her lungs at the intensity in his eyes. She squirmed where she sat, unnerved by how much he could affect her. Make her feel things that Ron had never been able to, not even at their best. She opened her mouth to respond, to come up with anything to say to that but what was she supposed to say to that? 

Then, Draco jumped up and rubbed his hands together before holding them out for her, pulling her to stand. “Up for a swim?” 

She looked up at the sky and the sun was directly overhead. If there was ever going to be a better time of day to jump in, it was then. A wide grin spread on her lips and she nodded, screaming slightly as the blond picked her up, one arm wrapped around her back and the other under her knees. She wrapped her arm around his neck and gripped him tightly as he walked them over to the edge of the boat. 

“Malfoy! Don’t you dare!” She looked up at him, the hint of mischief in his eyes making them even more attractive. 

“Sorry, Granger. Can’t hear you over all this water,” he said before he jumped and the next thing Hermione knew, she was submerged under the water, his grip on her loose to let her swim to the surface. 

They broke through at the same time, gasping for air before Hermione shoved him, the smile still on her face. “You arse.” 

“You had fun,” he said, the sunshine illuminating the droplets of water on his face and shoulders. “Admit it.” 

“No.” 

He swam closer, his hand gripping her waist and she gasped under her breath at the feeling of his fingers on her skin. “Go on, golden girl. Admit it.” 

Hermione’s brain was still trying to catch up but before she could say anything, Draco simply chuckled and ducked under the water once more, disappearing from her view until he popped up further away. 

“Come on!” 

She shook her head but began swimming after him, enjoying the way the warm water felt on her skin and in her hair. Hermione took her time, relishing in the sun and quiet, her eyes shut before she bumped into his back. 

“What are–” 

“Granger, be quiet,” he ordered, his hand reaching back to grab her hand. 

She looked over his shoulder, looking for what form of threat he had picked up on when she noticed the beautiful creature swimming toward them. Her face was a blueish green, fin-like appendages growing out of the side of her face, and her eyes were a bright sea green. 

“It’s just a Water Nymph, Malfoy,” she said quietly as the being stopped in front of them. 

He looked from the Nymph to Hermione, his eyes filled with concern. “Is she dangerous?” 

She shook her head, a soft smile curling the corners of her mouth. “No. She probably wants to show us something. It’s actually quite the honor. They’re seen as protectors of the sea and sailors in Greek Mythology.” 

“So, we just…follow her?” 

He couldn’t have looked more appalled if he tried and Hermione laughed, a lightness she hadn’t truly felt since before the war all those years ago settling in her gut. She took a broad stroke forward and then looked over her shoulder. “Come on, Malfoy.” 

She could only continue to smile as he muttered something about ‘bloody Gryffindors’ before he followed her. They didn’t need to swim long, taking the same path as the creature in front of her before it dove under the water. She stopped, treading for a moment as Draco caught up and when she looked up at him, water dripping from her lashes, she arched her brow and knew he took it as the challenge it was. For every fiber of being in Draco that was entirely stitched with Slytherin traits, she learned fairly quickly over the years that he could be just as impulsive as the lions of their large friend group. 

It was how she knew without a word passing between them that the moment she disappeared under the water toward where the Nymph was leading them, he was just behind her. She kicked and propelled herself forward, through an underwater arch before she ascended through to the surface once more. Draco gasped for air shortly after, his eyes taking in the same surroundings as she was. 

Her gaze took in the vines that seemed to glow as they hung from the ceiling of the large cave. The water that took on a vibrant hue of blue, bioluminescence that she had never seen occur in the natural world, at least not the Muggle one. There was a small, gentle waterfall in the back of the open space, plants growing along the base of the smaller pool of water. 

She had seen a lot of things since she had entered the magical world, experienced things like riding on the back of a dragon, talking paintings, being able to do so many things from the wand in her hand, but it was always the flora and fauna of the world she had been brought into that intrigued her most. How so much of it was everywhere but so hidden from Muggles and it made it feel all the more special. 

Then, her gaze landed on the wizard next to her, the man that had been born and raised in the wizarding world, and took in the look of complete and utter awe on his face. Seeing his hard lines and sharpness soften at the sight of something so beautiful was beauty in and of itself. If he could look at something so common in his life in such a way, what would it look like when Draco Malfoy looked at someone he loved?

Hermione swallowed and shook her head slightly. “You’re right, you know. My relationship isn’t crumbling. Crumbling would mean I could fix it. There’s nothing left with Ron for me to fix.” 

Draco’s attention turned to her as they continued to stand in the warm water. He seemed to think something over before he titled his head ever so to the right. “You two have been together for a long time and from my perspective, it didn’t even really seem that there was a foundation to build on in the first place.” 

A past Hermione, she wasn’t sure if it was one from three years ago or even just that morning, would have slapped him. Not because he was saying something cruel but because he had reached into the box where she held all of her miserable truths about her life and pulled out the one that was the root cause of so many others. 

She nodded, looking down. “Maybe you’re right.” 

“Of course I am,” Draco said immediately but when she looked up at him, her eyes narrowed, he softened even more. “I just hate how much he makes you cry and I know I don’t even see it every time, Granger.” 

Her eyes burned with tears even then. “Crying is normal.” 

She gasped lightly at the feeling of Draco’s fingers gripping her chin lightly as he took a short, measured step forward. He forced her to look at him, forced her to face what he was going to say without hiding. 

“Not in happy relationships. Even if you are pretty when you cry,” he said it so quietly, so gently that she was sure she must have misheard him. 

Flashes of Ron filled her mind as Draco glanced down at her lips, his grey eyes dark in the cool light of the cave. It was wrong, standing there with him, close enough that he was so easily able to touch her but then she felt just how much she wanted him to keep doing it. To touch her face, her arms, hands, merlin, more if he was so inclined. 

Hermione bit her lip before she shook her head, throwing on a smirk she knew was not convincing in the slightest. “Do you go around calling all your guests pretty? Is that how business is doing so well?” 

Draco chuckled as he took another forbidden step into her space. “No, those perks are reserved for the prettiest witch I know.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Flattery must be a Malfoy trait by birth.” 

“Is it working?” 

Her throat was tight—dry. Her hands were shaking slightly at the rush of everything he was making her feel, things that Ron never had. Things she was almost certain only Draco could. 

“I have a boyfriend.” It was a pathetic attempt to stop what they both knew was happening. 

“If Ronald Weasley counts as your boyfriend still, then I’m a very poor man.” 

“You don’t even really think I’m pretty. It’s just the sun talking.” 

He was so close, it was hard not to be aware of just how much she wanted to reach out and touch him, feel just how good her skin on his would be. 

“Scotland is notoriously cloudy,” he said, drawing her attention back to his lips. 

“What?” she asked lamely. 

Draco smirked, surely knowing exactly what he was doing to her. 

“I thought you were pretty that first year on the train. I believed you were beautiful by fourth year.” It was such a simple act, the slow way his fingers tucked her drying curls behind her ear and he stepped forward, his legs brushing hers. “I knew you were stunning at the Final Battle. Seeing you fight not only for what was right but for what you so strongly believed in, that was the moment I knew that no one would ever measure up.” 

Her heart raced, words that she couldn’t recall the last time Ron said to her falling from Draco’s lips so easily, as if he truly meant every word he said. Pretty. Beautiful. Stunning. She couldn’t say when she had ever been called those words, surely not in years if ever. 

She didn’t know how he had backed them up against the nearest wall, how she had moved so easily at his silent command but she did know she was breathless at his confession. His eyes bore down at her, soft and possessive in ways she had seen before but had never understood what it meant. 

“Draco…” 

His jaw clenched, his nose flaring slightly at the use of his given name from her lips and his other hand moved to touch her hip, his thumb rubbing soft circles into her skin. 

“Hermione.” 

It was a plea, something said out of desperation that no one had ever felt when it came to Hermione. She wanted to give into it, she wanted to not care about the life she had back in England, the boyfriend she had left there, but there was one thing she needed to know to make sure. 

She swallowed, her head tilting back to meet his gaze. “I know a bit of Greek but I’m a little rusty. Clarify something for me?” 

His brows furrowed as he looked down at her. “Anything.” 

“The name of your resort. What does it translate to?” 

He stiffened slightly before sighing, a smirk playing with the corners of his mouth. “Marigold.” 

Her heart was racing, her fingers itching to reach out to him instead of splay flat against the wall behind her. “May I ask what the inspiration was behind the name?” 

“Malfoy men always name their businesses after what means most to them.” 

Oh. 

Oh.

“I’ve never meant that much to someone before.” 

Draco’s mouth flattened momentarily before he shook his head, emotions she had never experienced written in his eyes. “You have always meant everything to me, Hermione.” 

With his confession, Hermione’s resolve broke and she pushed up on her toes to kiss him, only for him to move back slightly. He stayed close, his arm wrapping around her waist to keep her right at that height, right within a breath of his own lips. 

“If you kiss me, be sure. Be ready to be mine and only mine when you leave here. Be sure that you’re ready to leave him because I didn’t wait 15 years in the background of your life to only watch you walk back to him.” 

She knew at that moment that this was why Theo had brought her there. He had been begging her to leave Ron for months,  years, and knew there was only one thing that would ever truly get her to leave. 

Seeing what it would be like to be wanted, loved. And she was sure he knew Draco was going to be the one to give her that. 

“And if I’m ready?” she asked, meeting his gaze. 

“Then I’m going to spend my time showing you every reason for you to stay.” 

A kiss that was fifteen years in the making was always going to be something magical, but Hermione hadn’t expected it to feel like that. Hadn’t expected the moment his lips met hers, that she would feel like she had always meant to be there. Her hand lifted out of the water, her fingers lacing through his blond hair and she gripped, pulling him tighter to her as they deepened the kiss. Her tongue met his with need, desperation she hadn’t even known could be possible as he continued to hold her. 

He bent down, wrapping his hands around the back of her thighs before he lifted her, depositing her on the edge of the rocks that made a shelf next to them. Draco stepped between her legs, his hands running up the tops of her bare thighs before his lips moved to her jawline. Her hands roamed his chest, his torso as if she were mapping it, memorizing it through touch. He left warm trails behind as his fingers grazed the soft flesh of her hips before he found the thin tie of her top. 

Draco pulled back, both of them breathing heavily, lips swollen. “You have a boyfriend.” 

Hermione reached behind and with a slow movement, she pulled one string of her top and undid the knot. Her eyes never left Draco’s, her brow arched. “I’m yours, Draco. Isn’t that what you said?” 

The material hung loose as his gaze drifted down, her hand finding the tie around her neck before pulling that undone as well. He nodded, almost absentmindedly as she pulled the top off her body completely and placed it done on the rocks next to them. 

“I did,” he rasped, his grip on her hips tight. 

“Then forget about him. Make me forget about him.” 

His lips were on hers once more before she could take her next breath but he didn’t stay there long. No, Draco made his way quickly down to her chest, thoroughly licking and kissing her skin along the way before he found her nipple and sucked it between his lips. Hermione leaned back on her hand, the other gripping his hair as he drew breathless moans and short gasps from her lips. 

He whispered a cushioning charm into her skin and the rocks grew more comfortable under her, allowing her to lay back as he pushed on her shoulders. Draco lifted her feet out of the water, bending her knees and pushing them apart as he kissed them. His mouth was deliberate in the way he moved down her bare thighs, his breath ghosting over the drenched material of her bottoms as he looked up at her. 

“Last summer,” he started, pressing a kiss to the crease of her hip. “You were laying out at Nott’s townhouse in this very bikini. Theo found me watching you from the kitchen window and has teased me mercilessly ever since then.” 

His pace was agonizing as he ran his hand up, finding the knots holding the bottoms on her body, sitting right on her hips. 

“Do you have any idea how much I wanted to do this when I found you laying out on my beach? That waste of magic you’ve called a boyfriend for years nowhere to be found?” He asked it, never taking his eyes off her, as he pulled the knots loose. 

Gently, he let the strings fall to the ground and then pulled the blue material to the side. His mouth brushed against her, his breath causing her to gasp before his tongue ran up through her slit before circling around her clit. 

“Fuck,” Hermione gasped as her hands found his hair, pulling him closer to her dripping cunt. 

Draco pulled away, his finger tracing her entrance as he looked up at her. His smirk was glistening with her pleasure and she shook her head, knowing that with just that one moment, he had ruined her for any other man. 

“Draco…” 

“What do you need, love?” He asked, turning his head to kiss her thigh, nipping at the soft flesh. 

“More,” she panted, wanting to grip at something but only finding the hard surface of the rock below her. “I need more. Please.” 

He hummed, a torturous and obscene sound coming from the man between her thighs. Then, he inserted one finger and Hermione’s back arched into the feeling.

“Is that what you wanted?” He asked casually, as if he were merely making conversation and not taking her to places she hadn’t even been sure she could go. 

She shook her head. 

“No?” His amusement was apparent and she huffed. “What else could you want?” 

“More. A-another.” She bit her lip as he wrapped a hand around her thigh and pulled her down, her arse hanging just off the edge of the rocks. “Please, Draco.” 

“Hmm. A greedy little thing, aren’t you?” 

This time, Hermione nodded frantically, her eyes wide as he took in the sight of Draco spitting down onto her cunt and pulling out his single finger, replacing it with two, then three. She was so full, perfectly stretched by just his three fingers as he began to slowly thrust them inside of her. Her pleasure was building, her orgasm just out of reach as her moans filled the cave, echoing off the walls and harmonizing with his whispered words of praise. 

“That’s it, Granger. Fuck, you’re so fucking stunning.” There was another one of those words, whispered like a frantic confession.

Hermione pushed up on her elbows, watching as he lowered himself and sucked her clit into his mouth once more. Her head fell back as she groaned, lifting a hand to grip onto his arm wrapped around her thigh. 

“Please. Just like that. Please make me come,” she begged, beyond caring how she sounded. 

He continued, pushing her higher and higher until her body stiffened, waves of pleasure unlike anything she had ever felt before rolled over her as her legs shook. Her throat stung from the sharp scream of his name that left her, her body going limp as he continued to wring the last of her orgasm out of her. 

“You’re bloody perfect,” Draco whispered, almost to himself but she opened her eyes and watched him as he licked his lips, her core clenching at the words of praise she hadn’t even known she craved. 

Hermione sat up slowly before she wrapped a hand behind his neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss. Tasting herself on his tongue, knowing she had marked him just then just as much as he had her, she scooted forward and wrapped her legs around his waist before pulling back and looking up at the panting wizard. 

“Take me to your room, Draco.” 

He nodded and without another word, they apparated from their alcove, and Hermione found herself falling back onto a soft bed. Her hair and body was dry and Draco had completely vanished what little clothes he had on in the first place. She moved back so her head was on the pillows as she spread her legs, Draco moving to position himself at her entrance. 

Then, he looked up at her. His eyes were dark with hunger and she swallowed, knowing there was no going back now. Hermione didn’t even want to go back, not to how things had been just that morning. No, she had meant it when she said she was ready for this. For him to be her everything. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, his voice tight with control. 

Hermione nodded and cupped his face before lifting up slightly to kiss him. “I’m sure. Make me yours.” 

Draco nodded once and pushed his cock inside her. Hermione moaned as he stretched her, filled her beyond anything she thought possible but also knew was exactly what she needed. As he slowly pulled out, pushing back in at that tempo he seemed so fond of, she relished the feeling of his cock along her walls. 

“Fuck,” he moaned into her neck as his fingers left bruises on her hip. “I had always imagined what you would feel like but it was nothing like this.” 

“Yeah?” She asked, gasping as his thumb found her clit. “You thought about fucking me a lot, Malfoy?” 

He met her eyes and smirked, that irritating, charming expression that had her wetter at the just sight of it. “Thought about it, stroked my cock to it, moaned your name as I spilled over my hand.” 

“Oh, fuck.” 

He chuckled lightly and dipped down to whisper directly in her ear. “Is that what you want now? Want me to spill over my hand onto your body, love?” 

Hermione fervently shook her head. “No.” 

“No? Where does my perfect little slut want me to come then?” 

Her eyes rolled back as he chose that moment to use the blunt edge of his nail right on her clit. “Inside me.” 

“Shit,” he groaned. “Come for me, Hermione. Come for me and then I’m going to fill you up with my cum. I’m going to keep you filled with my cum all night and send you back to Weasley with it dripping down your thighs.” 

She nodded, not even entirely sure what she was completely agreeing to but knowing if Draco was saying it, she was going to do what he said. He pulled out and thrust inside her, the head of his cock brushing against her cervix and she screamed, her nails digging into his shoulders. Then, he pinched her clit and thrust harder, sending her right over the edge of her climax. 

It didn’t take long after for him to follow, her name a prayer on his lips as he spilled inside her, thick ropes of his cum filling her cunt perfectly. He stilled his hips, his forehead pressed against hers as they attempted to catch their breaths and then, Draco laughed. Hermione smiled at the sound, her eyes fluttering open to see him watching her with a look of awe on his face. 

“What?” She asked, running her hand up his arm. 

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Just never thought I would get this.” 

“Me naked in your bed?” 

Draco shook his head. “Just…you, Hermione.” 

Before she could say anything else, he positioned them so they were facing each other on their sides. 

“Get some rest, Granger. I meant what I said about sending you back to London dripping with my cum. I have some work to do tonight.” 

Hermione opened the door to the room she shared with Theo early the next morning, dressed in nothing but one of Draco’s old Quidditch jerseys and a pair of his boxers. She tried to tip toe into the room so as to not wake him but as she turned toward the table where she knew her bag was waiting for her, she came face to face with a very smug best friend. 

“Morning, princess,” he drawled out, arching his brow over his morning tea. 

She straightened up, pulling at the bottom hem of the large shirt. “Good morning, Theo.” 

He lowered the cup and smirked, looking her over with what she could only describe as a look of triumph. “Have a good night as well, I presume?” 

She simply rolled her eyes and made her way over to the bag where she dug for the one thing she had come for. Then, she pulled the parchment Draco had written the letter on that morning before sending her off. As she unfolded it, Theo walked over and read over her shoulder. 

She listened to all his reactions. The sharp intake of breath. The quiet laughter he attempted but failed to suppress. Then, the long slow whistle as he brought his tea back to his lips. She turned to him as he took a seat back at the table and nodded. 

“Good for you, princess. It’s about damn time.” He watched her for a moment before he added, “I think you’ll be happier now.” 

As she looked down at the letter she was about to take back to Draco to send off, she couldn’t help but think that since Theo had been right about bringing her there, about her needing space and clarity. Perhaps he would be right about this too. 

“I think so too, Theo.” 

Red headed fuck, 

Greetings from Greece. I’m aware you’re a little dense when it comes to absorbing information, even such trivial facts, so let me list a few out for you. 

1. Hermione’s favorite flowers are marigolds, not roses, you git. She’s bloody allergic to roses. 

2. She’s told you countless times she hates that gods awful nickname you gave her. Use her full name, you twat. 

3. She’s attached her key to your flat, in case even that escapes you, that means she’s done. You are no longer dating. In other words, you fucked up beyond measure, Weasel. 

4. She deserved to be called fucking beautiful, but something tells me you wouldn’t know that if it smacked you in the face. Don’t worry though, Weaslebee, she knows quite well now.

5. She looked stunning under me. 

Cheers, 

Draco Malfoy 

finite.