Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If you’ve read this story before, know that I edited it several times before reposting. It could still use some more editing, but after 30k words, I’m tired of looking at my previous chapters. I should really just get back to the story.

So, some scenes have been reordered, I added or removed dialogue, and I tried to improve the flow of the story. To make everything clearer, I recommend rereading it from the beginning.

As previously mentioned, I’ve altered everyones birthdays. In this universe, Ginny and Ron are faternal twins, and the actual Weasley twins don’t exist.

Whoops.

Sophomores:

Draco, 15, June 1991

Theo, 15, April 1991

Blaise 15, May 1991

Luna 15, February 1991

Lavender 15, May 1991

Hermione 15, September 1990

Ginny 15, August 1990

Ron 15, August 1990

Juniors:

Edmund 16, March 1990

Abraxas 16, February 1990

Tom 16, December 1989

Chapter Text

July 2006

It was a hot day in July.  

A thick blanket of humidity enveloped the world outside, making the air feel heavy and stifling. Even the refreshing air from his bedroom couldn't completely stave off the perspiration across Draco’s neck. He felt a tight knot in his chest, his growing sense of dread, and it clashed against the calm demeanor he was working hard to project. 

Draco shifted on the mattress, his nimble fingers tracing the satin trim of his duvet cover, procrastinating. Clearing his throat, he forced casualness into his voice, hoping it would mask the weight of the question he was about to ask. 

"Hermione," Draco began, his voice now steady and his gaze intense. "Are you still a virgin?" 

Hermione paused mid-stroke, the tiny nail brush hovering over her toes as she was caught off guard by his question. She sat at the opposite end of his bed, her knees drawn up to her chest, causing her spandex shorts to creep up her sun-kissed thighs. The oversized grey Yale crewneck, which Hermione stole from him last month, hung loosely on her body, hiding her hunched posture. Honey-brown eyes flicked up to meet his steel-grey, a reluctant smirk playing at the corner of her lips. 

"Draco, you're my best friend," Hermione punctuated her sentence with a strained but warm chuckle, "You know I haven't had sex—I haven't even kissed anyone." 

She shook her head gently, the faint smirk lingering just before she puckered her lips and blew over her freshly painted toes. Draco watched as he contemplated, eventually deciding to take the leap. He managed a deep breath, quickly expelling a huff of air. 

Ignoring the internal feeling of his insides being in a meat grinder, he murmured, "Do you want to change that?"  

Hermione stilled her movements, her unwavering attention fixed on her feet, her fingers mechanically capping the bottle of polish. The silence between them hung heavy, as her answer had the potential to change the grounds of their friendship profoundly. 

Tentatively, Draco reached his hand out, drawing away one of her fists from its clenched position under her thighs. Hermione didn’t hesitate when he nudged her palm open, intertwining their fingers together. He pulled their joined hands into his lap and flipped her palm over, gently tracing over the visible blue veins with his index finger. Unable to look Hermione in the eyes, Draco focused solely on their hands, swallowing hard. 

“I overheard Abraxas and his friends talking about— you know, sex and all the things they've done.” Draco stilled his featherlight touches against her skin, his hand now rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, I know this sounds crazy, but—maybe it would be a good thing for us—you know, uh,” Draco stuttered, “Experimenting, and uh, losing our virginities to each other?" 

He trailed off and nervously licked his lips, awaiting her response. He was unsure how to feel; he hoped for acceptance but dreaded the possibility of rejection. Hermione released her grasp around his hand, and Draco squeezed his eyes shut, internally cursing and berating himself for his stupid idea until he felt her small palm against his chest.

Her voice, barely more than a whisper, “Do you really think that's a good idea?” 

Draco slowly opened his eyes as he met Hermione's gaze beneath the flutter of her dark lashes. "We're starting our sophomore year, Hermione, and we're best friends. Don't you think—" He stopped talking, searching for an inkling of reassurance in her wide eyes.

Hermione offered him a soft smile, gliding her hand down his arm and encircling his wrist. She studied Draco with a familiar affection in her eyes. “We’ve always been honest with each other, Draco. I don’t think this conversation just came from overhearing Abraxas, Edmund, and Tom. Those three together— they act like idiots; we know that, and we’ve never taken them seriously.” 

He rolled onto his back, tugging his arm out of her hold. “No, you're right, as always.” He exhaled sharply through his nose, “All summer, in the locker rooms, the guys have been talking non-stop about what they’re doing with girls.” Draco waved his hand out, his voice lined with frustration. “They’re bragging about hand jobs, blow jobs, fingering girls, and sex.” Draco tugged at his collar, embarrassed by his inexperience, but pushed forward. “I've never touched a girl, let alone kissed one. I feel like a loser.” A wave of shame washed over him as he turned his head slowly toward Hermione, his lips pulled down into a deep frown.

Hermione sighed softly, "So, you basically want to be cool and fit in.” They fell into a comfortable silence as she gently slipped her fingers through his hair, her short nails grazing his scalp. Draco’s eyes fluttered closed, and he hummed contentedly, embodying the serenity of a pleased cat basking in the sun. “I guess I can’t blame you,” Hermione huffed, an edge of aggravation in her tone, “I’m getting it, too. The girls are obnoxious when they tease me about that sort of stuff. It's like I’m the only one who doesn’t have their tongue down some guy’s throat.”  

Draco considered his following words, pulling in his lips tightly, the gnawing sensation of a meat grinder creeping back into his stomach. He desperately needed to know, blurting out, “Do you want to try that with me?” 

Immediately, Hermione stilled her hand, and Draco flicked his eyes at her in panic. He noticed the visible swallow of her throat and the hint of trepidation dancing in her honey-brown eyes. 

Her fingers resumed their path through his hair, pushing past the nape of his neck. "I think we can do that," she murmured. "I wanna try it with you," her voice gaining steadiness, “We're best friends, after all.”  

Hermione supported her weight on one arm, moving closer as she leaned over Draco. Her fingers hesitantly traced a path from his neck to his jaw, eventually cupping a palm to his cheek. Draco didn't dare move, holding his breath as he felt her explore the contours of his face.  Unable to resist, he parted his lips slightly as Hermione’s finger began to outline the shape of his mouth. He captured her finger, kissing the tip delicately before releasing his hold. 

Draco could feel the last traces of his anxiety slip away as he lifted himself on his elbows and tilted his head slightly so their faces were mere inches apart. He gazed into Hermione’s eyes, those familiar brown eyes that had always been his safe haven. At that moment, the years of friendship, trust, the strong bond between them—everything—felt like they had been leading to this singular moment. They had grown up together and shared nearly a decade filled with memories, laughter, and the trials of youth. Now, they stood on the edge of something new, and the air between them was charged with emotion. 

Draco's voice was barely above a whisper, “Hermione…" 

Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed against the white oak door, shattering the delicate moment between them. Startled, Hermione straightened up as Draco flung himself fat on the mattress. Edmund burst through the door, instantly altering the mood in the room. 

“Hey, asshole! Abraxas is ordering pizza; what do you want?" he hollered. Edmund leaned his forearm against the doorframe, his fist clenched around the damp towel over his shoulder. Droplets trickled down from his wet hair and dampened his shirt even more. “Ah, Hermione, didn't know you were here.” A playful smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You two are looking a little suspicious.” Edmund’s dark eyebrow arched in curiosity as he studied them, lingering on their closeness. “Why are you two so close?” he asked slowly, his tone suspecting.

Before anyone could answer, Edmund’s hands shot up in surprise as his collar was yanked from behind, causing him to stumble into the hallway. “Yo, Tom, what the fuck?" his yelp echoed in the corridor. 

“Don’t be a dick, leave them alone,” Tom glowered just before poking his head in. His tall frame stepped into the doorway, one hand hanging on the doorknob as he pushed it open further. Tom grinned as he shook his shaggy black hair off his forehead and swept it to the side. His broad shoulders and toned chest were prominently displayed, glistening beads of water spattered over his abdomen from the recent dip in the Malfoy pool. 

Hermione’s eyes lingered as she watched the droplets travel through the light dusting of hair under his navel before disappearing into his green and black swim trunks. Tom’s Arctic blue eyes bounced from Draco to Hermione as he asked, “So, pizza? Thin crust, extra cheese?” He fixed his stare on Hermione, pulling her out of a daze with his warm smile.

Feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, she hurriedly covered her mouth with her hand, trying to conceal her flustered expression. "Yes, please," Hermione replied, her embarrassment evident. "Thanks for remembering what I like.” Tom's lips parted slightly as if to respond, but the shouting from the kitchen abruptly drew his attention away. 

“Hurry the fuck up,” Abraxas's loud, aggressive voice echoed through the hallway. “I'm on the phone with Pizza Hut! Give me your order or I'll have you eating my greasy napkins!” 

Tom rolled his eyes, smirking as he glanced back at Edmund lingering in the hallway. "You heard the boss. Let's move," he said with a nod.

The bedroom door closed behind them, the sounds of their voices and laughter gradually fading away. Alone once again, Hermione leaned back on the mattress next to Draco, a chuckle spilling out of her throat. "So," she paused, tilting her chin up, their gaze meeting briefly. "That was weird, right?" 

He didn't answer, instead rolling onto his side and supporting himself on one elbow. His eyes lazily traced over Hermione’s features, watching the line between her eyebrows become more prominent the longer she waited for an answer. His eyes followed the path down the length of her nose and over her speckled freckles, finally settling on her lips. 

It was now or never, Draco thought to himself. He reached over Hermione, pushing back the loose curls behind her ear. His fingers lightly caressed her neck until his palm rested flat on the bed beside her. In that quiet moment, Hermione's breath hitched as Draco moved closer, the sound of his heartbeat roaring in his ears. She was the first to close her eyes as their lips met for a kiss, their lips awkwardly fumbling at first. But it was only seconds before they found a seamless rhythm with each other.

Kissing Hermione felt like an electrifying current that jolted a thousand butterflies to life in Draco’s stomach. Cautiously, he pressed his tongue against Hermione’s lips, seeking permission with tiny licks. He nearly stopped breathing when she opened up to him, a rush of exhilaration beginning as his tongue glided over her teeth. Their tongues soon twisted together in a dance of exploration, each kiss an intoxicating mix of curiosity and need. 

Hermione’s soft hum resonated through him as she flicked her tongue against the roof of his mouth, and Draco couldn’t suppress the low groan that escaped his lips. It was a sound of pure, unfiltered pleasure, and he dragged his palm down the bed to grip her waist in response. His hand moved under her sweatshirt, curling around her hip as his fingers savored the feel of her skin, leaving Draco feeling possessive and yearning.  

Gaining confidence, he nipped at her bottom lip, and Hermione let out a soft whimper, sending his nerve ends on high alert. The sound sped his heart rate to dangerous levels, and Draco pulled back, eyes wide as he took in Hermione. He noticed the soft sound of her panting, her chest rising and falling with each inhale, as it brushed against his.

Hermione’s hand reached for the base of her neck, her fingers grazing against her collar bones. Her eyes looked distant, as if she were lost in thought about what had just transpired. Draco ran a hand through his tousled hair, feeling utterly dazed. With his tongue pressing into his cheek, his mind was amidst a turbulent storm of emotions—fear, excitement, and something new? The sensation of desire lingered at the forefront of his mind.

Abraxas opened the door, quickly popping his head inside, “Pizza’s here!” He vanished as soon as he had come, leaving the door wide open. 

The sudden intrusion startled Draco, nearly tumbling off the bed in surprise. Heat crept into Draco's cheeks as he sat up straight, forcing out a nervous laugh. “So— is this awkward?” he ventured, lifting a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Or no?” he added, wincing at the vulnerability lacing his words.

Rolling onto her back with one knee bent, Hermione exclaimed, “Of course it is! Abraxas almost caught us playing tonsil hockey!” She flung her arms out wide before dropping her hands to her forehead with a smack. "Can you imagine how much more he’d make fun of us if he had that ammunition?" Hermione peeked out from behind her fingers, arching an eyebrow and daring Draco to deny the truth of her words. 

“No, I'm not talking about my brother, Hermione; I mean, between us. Did I—was that kiss bad?" Draco’s voice carried an edge of desperation, and he rubbed his hand over his lips and the ghost of their kiss. “Did it feel weird?"  

Hermione sat up on her elbows, her head tilting to the right as she wrinkled her nose in thought. Twisting closer to Draco, she placed her palm against his cheek, a spark igniting in her eyes. “No, no, it felt good. It was sweet.” 

Draco visibly cringed at the word. “Sweet?” He didn’t want his first kiss to be described as sweet. Sweet were the kisses his Aunt Andromeda gave him, but kissing a girl should be... a feeling of something else entirely. 

Hermione chuckled, removing her hand to pull her hair out of her scrunchie, tucking stray curls behind her ear before finally admitting, “Okay, so it wasn’t exactly sweet.” She punctuated her sentence with a teasing smile that sent relief flooding through Draco. “That’s not exactly how I felt.”  

Draco wrapped his palm around Hermione’s shin, sliding down her smooth skin until he reached her ankle. With a quick squeeze, he pressed further. “Yeah? So how did you feel?” With a crooked smile, he said, “Because you made some noises I've never heard before.”  

Hermione playfully kicked his hold off her ankle, delaying her answer as she drew her knees up. “I liked it, Draco. It felt good… great, even.” She looked up into his soft, inviting features, his eyes sparkling with intrigue as they locked onto hers. Hermione averted her gaze as the rest of the words came tumbling out. "I started to feel this weird tingling and pressure in my lower abdomen," she said, gesturing toward her waist, her cheeks warming as she spoke. "It was like, I felt dizzy, unable to think clearly, and hot all over—like my skin was on fire."  

Draco felt the effect her words had on him as they signaled a small rush of blood below his waist. Awareness flooded through him, his eyes widening slightly as he jumped off the bed, needing to adjust himself quickly. Reaching for Hermione’s hands, he tugged her off the bed, a mix of nervousness and urgency fueling his actions. “Alright, alright, Hermione, I get it. I feel the same way.” 

“Let’s get out of here.” Draco gently moved her toward the door, and Hermione peeked over his shoulder. “Okay, Draco,” she said, her voice softening as she nibbled on her bottom lip, “But do you think we could try it again? Maybe when we have more time?”  

Draco released his hand and stopped walking; his tension eased slightly as he realized his lower half had softened. Relieved, he stepped closer to her, gripping her shoulder and rubbing her collarbone. “I’ll never say no to you, but for the love of God, let’s go before Abraxas or Edmund comes in again.” Draco walked ahead through the bedroom door and out to the kitchen. Lingering in his bedroom for a moment longer, Hermione lightly touched her fingers to her lips. 

“Oh, wow,” she whispered into the silence. 

“Can we finally go swimming later?” Draco asked with a whine in his voice, cutting through the noise in the kitchen. “It’s been so hot all month, and we haven’t gotten wet even once.” 

Edmund chimed in, slapping his palm on the counter and pointing at Draco. “That's what she said!” 

Abraxas snorted from his position on the kitchen island, nudging Tom as they both snickered about Draco’s unfortunate choice of words. Draco furrowed his brows and glared at his brother and friends. “Shut up, Ed! I’m just trying to get Hermione into the pool.” 

Leaping down from the island, Abraxas leaned against the counter, resting his elbow on the edge and stroking his chin. He shifted his gaze from Draco to Hermione, a mischievous smile curling on his lips. “Little brother, you are right. Why haven’t you been in the pool, Hermione? Forgot how to swim?” Straightening up, Abraxas pointed his thumb at himself and his pointer finger at Tom. “Don’t worry, you’ve got two certified lifeguards on duty. We’ll save your life anytime.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes, pushing Abraxas with her shoulder to reach behind him, and piled pizza slices on her plate. She sat down on the high-top stool, leaning on her elbows on the counter, as she steepled her fingers together. “No, that’s not something you easily forget." Her tone shifted slightly as she continued, “I just haven’t wanted to swim lately.” 

Draco nodded his head along, chewing through his bite of pizza before continuing. “She keeps saying she’s not comfortable,” he said with a look of confusion on his face. “I don’t really get it,” he admitted. “She was swimming earlier this summer. What’s the deal?” 

Abraxas, Edmund, and Tom exchanged glances with each other before turning to Hermione, who had suddenly gone still under the excess attention. Edmund’s gaze flicked down to Hermione’s chest, lingering on the baggy sweatshirt she wore. His eyes widened, a knowing smirk slowly forming. “Uncomfortable, eh, Hermione?” Edmund teased, sucking his teeth, a conspiratorial glimmer reflecting in his eyes.  

“Draco, you may be smart as fuck,” Edmund paused, turning his head to him before provoking further, “but you sure do lack some common sense here, and—" A quick thwack was heard before Edmund barked, “Ow!” He narrowed his eyes at Tom, who had delivered a kick to his shin. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Tom hissed, his tone a low warning amid the escalating conversation. Tom looked at Hermione, grimacing, his emotions flickering between annoyance and empathy. 

Edmund shot Tom an irritated glare, wiping pizza grease from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Why are you on my ass today? You don’t need to tell us what to do for another five weeks, captain,” he retorted sarcastically. 

Pushing away from the counter, Abraxas thrust his chest out and brought his hands together behind his back. He paced in the kitchen, scanning the room with a menacing gleam, before focusing on Draco. “My little brother, let me refresh your memory from Health and Sex Ed.” Abraxas flashed a roguish grin, wiggling his pale blonde eyebrows in delight. “Our dear Hermione has hit a growth spurt!” 

Across the counter, the tips of Hermione’s ears turned crimson. She covered her face with her hands as she sank into her seat. Unable to suppress a groan, Hermione protested. “Abraxas,” elongating the ‘S’ sound, “Why are you embarrassing me?” 

Draco bounced his gaze between his brother and Hermione, bewildered by the exchange. Narrowing his eyes, Draco gave Hermione a once-over, “I don’t get it. She’s still the same height; what the fuck are you talking about?” 

Edmund nearly choked on his drink from laughing so hard, orange soda sputtering out of his mouth. “The growth spurt of this variety,” Abraxas explained, gesturing grandly over his chest in a way that left no room for misinterpretation. 

Draco whispered an incredulous “Oh,” and the realization dawned on him. 

Hermione slammed her palms down on the counter as she rose from her seat. “Alright, boys. I feel like I’ve had enough embarrassment for the week, don’t you think?” With a two-finger salute, she dismissed herself from the kitchen and, without a backward glance, called out, “See ya’ later, I’m out!” 

As Hermione swiftly exited, the guys erupted in laughter. Draco sat in his chair, glaring at them, his arms crossed over his chest, tense with frustration. He reached over the counter and flicked Abraxas on the forehead with his thumb and forefinger. “Why did you have to go and act like that?” 

Abraxas shook his head, his shaggy blonde hair falling onto his forehead in disheveled waves. He reached up to rub the spot where Draco's flick had landed, wincing slightly before dismissively snorting. “Relax, Draco. Hermione knows I'm only messing with her.” Nodding at Edmund, Abraxas snapped his fingers to get his attention, “Hey pea-brain, you still have the joints? There enough for the four of us?” 

Edmund could only nod his head vehemently in response as he forcefully swallowed his pizza. He dabbed the napkins at his mouth, wiping away any remaining grease. Crumbling them into a ball, he stood up, taking a shot at the garbage can. The crumbled ball hit the rim and tumbled into the trash.“Kobe!” Edmund shouted, grinning broadly. He peered over his shoulder at Draco, hesitating before speaking. “You know, not trying to be a dick here,” he gestured with an open palm towards where Hermione sat, “but like, did you seriously not notice anything different about her?” 

Draco shot a dark look at Edmund, who quickly raised his hands in surrender. Abraxas jumped in with a laugh, throwing his arms over his brother’s shoulders.“Of course, he didn’t notice! Draco can’t see shit—he’s completely clueless. Probably missed more than Hermione’s, uh, new look.” 

Edmund raised his eyebrows questioningly at Draco, who glowered back, simmering with irritation. Tom drummed his fingers against the counter and shook his head at his friends. “Alright, enough bullshit. Let's go out back and smoke.” 

In the hidden corner of the backyard, shaded by the trees behind the pool house, Edmund collapsed into a rattan chair with a thud. Around him, the rest of the guys were casually leaning back or sprawled on the outdoor couch. He stretched his leg out, reaching into his front pocket and removing his sleek metal cigarette case. Clicking it open, Edmund passed four neatly rolled joints around the table. Tom held one between his thumb and forefinger, squinting as he inspected its quality. “Did you roll these?” he asked, bringing the joint closer to his nose. “What papers did you use? Tell me they’re hemp and not that stupid rice paper you made us try last week.” 

Edmund rolled his eyes, brushing his fingers against the dark stubble growing back on his chin.  

“Relax, Tom, I threw those shit papers away. Rolled these myself with hemp, yeah. Just smoke it and shut up.” 

Tom slowly turned the joint, keeping a flame lit at the end until it cherried. He moistened his lips with a flick of his tongue, carefully inhaling his first drag. Glancing up, he locked eyes with Draco across the table, exhaling a cloud of smoke without breaking their gaze. Draco took a slow pull from his joint, sensing a subtle challenge in Tom's stare. The smoke burned slightly as it filled his lungs, grounding him in the moment. 

Draco pulled out his phone and clicked through his messages until he found Hermione’s name. As his thumbs hovered over the keys, he contemplated apologizing for earlier. With the joint hanging loosely from his lips, he nervously tugged at his earlobe and hesitated. Finally, he closed her text, deciding to give her some space—he knew they would see each other again soon enough. 

"Are you texting Hermione?" Tom's voice sliced through the haze, drawing Draco's attention. He looked up to see Tom watching him, casually blowing smoke rings and showing off. 

Tom's eyes were filled with a sharp curiosity, and Draco felt an uneasy twist in his gut at the probing question. “Why do you care?” Draco replied, his tone guarded.  

Tom shrugged and ran a hand through his hair, leaning back in his seat. "I'm just curious if we'll see her again later, that's all." 

Edmund shifted, folding one knee under him to get comfortable. He traced a slow finger along the glass tabletop, his hair falling across his forehead as his eyes took on a glassy look. Smirking, he quickly responded, "Tom probably wants to do the noble thing and apologize for our inappropriate behavior." 

Abraxas glanced up from inspecting his nails, snorting, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s why,” he said, winking at Tom. 

Tom flicked his ash on Edmund, causing him to shout as he jerked back in his seat. Smacking Tom on the arm, Edmund growled, “What was that for? I didn’t say anything!” 

Tom raised his eyebrows, clearly unbothered. “You were closer and easier to annoy,” he replied coolly. 

Draco sat in silence, his shoulders relaxed and legs stretched out. He watched the back-and-forth banter with unfocused eyes as the high took hold. He half listened, nodding to the conversation occasionally as the warm rays of the lazy summer sun sank deep into his bones. A laugh escaped him when Abraxas shared locker-room gossip from the previous week: Cormac, in a moment of desperation, had resorted to using Saran Wrap and a rubber band as a makeshift condom. Edmund and Tom doubled over, practically collapsing into each other as they laughed at the absurdity of it all. It made him think of Hermione, and Draco couldn’t help but wonder if she regretted their kiss that morning. His fingers tapped absently against his thigh as thoughts of her occupied his mind. Draco finished his joint and rubbed his hands down his face with a sigh. Standing up, he waved to his brother and friends as they smoked more weed and chewed over afternoon plans. 

Returning to his room, Draco flopped down face-first onto his bed. He took a deep breath, catching the faint scent of honeysuckle on the duvet—the lingering scent of Hermione. Closing his eyes, he let the memory of their kiss replay, recalling the feeling of her lips and the soft way they moved together. A thrill ran through him as he remembered when their tongues met, and he chased after hers for more. He imagined his mouth against her neck, how her skin might feel under his lips, and her reaction. Groaning, Draco rolled onto his back and covered his face with a pillow. All he wanted was to feel that closeness with her again, that exhilarating rush. The ache left him wanting more. 

Chapter Text

July 2006

Hermione strolled briskly down the sun-soaked blocks to the Weasley’s house, the familiar Cape Cod with its welcoming canary yellow door. The planters under the open front windows boasted beautiful wildflower blooms, their floral scent mixing with the freshly cut grass. She ambled up the wooden stairs onto the porch, barely having time to raise her hand before the large door swung open. 

Leaning casually against the doorframe, Ginny crossed her arms, an infectious grin lighting up her freckled face. Despite sweat that gleamed on her forehead and her long, fiery red hair pulled into a haphazard bun, Ginny buzzed with energy. 

“Long time no see, Granger!” Unraveling her arms and planting one hand on her hip, Ginny waved an index finger teasingly in Hermione’s face. “It’s about time your ass showed up here! I've been home from Aunt Muriel’s for two days, and I’m dying for social interaction that isn’t my family!” Stepping aside to let Hermione in, she gestured with a half-bow. “Come in, but ditch the windbreaker,” tugging at the shoulder of Hermione’s light jacket to emphasize her point. “Our AC kicked the bucket while we were out, so it’s hot as hell in here.” 

Hermione stepped through the door, teasing Ginny, “Makes sense why you greeted me practically dressed in your underwear, then!” Kicking off her sneakers in the front hallway, Hermione’s footsteps were soft against the wooden floor. The walls were adorned with photographs capturing the chaotic essence of the Weasley family. Each framed image told a story, a tapestry of memories mingling with the rich aromas wafting from Mrs. Weasley’s kitchen. The familiarity felt like a second home to Hermione as she continued on autopilot to Ginny’s bedroom. 

Upon entering her room, Ginny swatted Hermione’s ass and kicked the door shut behind her. “Oh, get a grip! Since when have our cheerleading shorts and sports bras been considered underwear?” With a laugh, Ginny dropped onto her bed. “I’m doing what I need to, plus,” she paused, stretching her limbs like a starfish over her mustard-colored bedding, “not all of us are lucky and live next door to someone with a pool!”

Hermione pushed Ginny's arms aside and settled on the bed, the quilted mattress creaking under the added weight. She exhaled sharply, blowing her unruly curls off her forehead. Strands of her hair already stuck to her skin, and sweat gathered at the edge of her hairline. Hermione could feel the humid air seeping through the open windows, making her feel like she was slowly baking. 

“Oh, Gin, how have you been living like this?” Sweat even started to gather between her breasts and trickle down her spine. With no other choice, Hermione took off her jacket, no longer hiding behind a loose-fitting top. Once removed, she felt a sense of mild relief sitting in her sports bra and shorts.

Ginny shot up, screeching, “Holy shit, Hermione! Where did you get those?” 

With a groan, Hermione threw her head back, covering her face with her hands. Ginny straddled Hermione, gripping her wrists and prying her fingers away. Bafflement danced in Ginny’s chocolate-brown eyes, her red eyebrows nearly kissing her hairline. Grimacing, Hermione turned her face away, speaking into the bedsheets when she mumbled, “Hormones? Puberty? They just grew out of nowhere these last few weeks.” 

Ginny gaped, shaking her head side to side in slow motion. Dropping her wrists, Ginny brought her palms under Hermione’s breasts and wiggled her fingers to encourage them to bounce. “Well, shit, can you share?” she grinned, “I mean, look at mine!” She waved a hand toward her chest. “I bet you’re a C? I’m still just a sad little B.” 

Hermione smacked Ginny’s hands away, laughing, “Sure, once I figure out how to share these, you’ll be the first I give them to.” Rolling off Hermione, Ginny propped herself up on her elbow, a grin spreading across her face. “Oh, I doubt that, Hermione. Once you figure things out, you'll be sharing those bad girls with some bad boys.” 

Hermione fell silent, folding her hands on her stomach as she stared up at Ginny’s sky-blue ceiling, eyeing the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars they plastered up years ago. Ginny’s expression shifted, one eyebrow arching as she questioned, “Hermione?” Taking a deep breath, Hermione closed her eyes gently. Unclasping her hands, she fidgeted with the hem of her shorts, revealing her anxiousness. “Oh, Gin, I think I did something totally out of character. You know Draco, right?” 

Ginny squinted sharply at Hermione, irritation evident as she smacked her palm against the bed, Hermione’s eyes jumping open as a response. “Are you sick? Of course, I know Draco! We've only been going to the same school, living in the same neighborhood, and for God's sake- being friends with him for the last ten years! I could pick that blonde idiot out of a lineup with my eyes closed!” Reaching up to twirl a lock of her hair around her finger, Hermione continued hesitantly, “Well, uh, you know how you and the girls tease me about never being kissed and stuff?” 

Ginny immediately sat up on her knees, pressing her hand against her chest, her breath skipping as she gasped, “Holy shit, what are you about to tell me?” 

Hermione shifted onto her side with a soft sigh, her fingers nervously drumming over the bedsheets. "So the other day, me and Draco decided to lose our virginities to each other— ”

Ginny screamed, "Oh my God!" She looked around wildly, her eyes wide and searching. "Oh my God! There's so much to unpack there! Who else knows?" A look of confusion clouded Hermione's expression as she scrunched her nose, her brow furrowing in thought. "What? Ginny, no. We only decided that we're going to lose our virginities to each other, and experiment, or like, practice other things." 

With her palms outstretched in disbelief and slightly shaking her head, Ginny closed her eyes momentarily, allowing a deep, calming breath to fill her lungs. She exhaled slowly, opening her eyes as she leaned forward. "So what you're telling me is that you and Draco are finally crossing the line of becoming more than just best friends?" Her voice trailed off, hope evident in her tone. 

A muscle in her jaw twitched just before Hermione sprang off the bed, her curls bouncing around her shoulders. She pivoted on her heels, hands firmly on her hips, and a stern frown deepened on her forehead as she faced Ginny. “Ginevra Weasley, for the last time, I do not like Draco Lucius Malfoy as more than a friend!” 

Ginny stifled a chuckle behind her hand, struggling to contain her laughter. “Sorry, sorry! His middle always makes me laugh.” Hermione’s eyes narrowed further. The intensity of her gaze was piercing, radiating a mix of displeasure and irritation. “Ok, fine. You don’t like him that way. But are you sure you know what you’re doing, though? Don’t you think this will blur some lines or emotional barriers, becoming physical with someone who is just a friend?” 

“Of course not! Because he is just a friend! I’ve known Draco my entire life; he’s my best friend. There’s nobody in the world I feel more comfortable with than him to experiment with all this,” she trailed off, brushing her hand off dismissively, “sexual stuff with. It’ll be perfectly fine.” Hermione watched Ginny move to the bed's edge, looking up to study her quietly. 

Rubbing the heels of her palms against her eyes, Hermione mumbled, “Oh, Gin, just say it already. Stop dragging it out.” She spread her fingers to cover her face, peeking out with her left eye to glance at Ginny. 

“I've got nothing. If you say it'll be fine, then it'll be fine,” an apprehensive look flashed in her eyes. “Now let's call the rest of the girls and meet up at the mall. You've got big news to share.” 

As they walked on the black-and-white tiles of the Hogsmeade food court, the vibrant atmosphere buzzed around them. They passed Sbarro's neon green and red lights, where they spotted Cormac waving them down with a goofy grin. “You ladies want a slice of this?” he called out, laughably thrusting his hips. His offer was a ridiculous blend of pizza and what he clearly considered a charming come-on. 

Hermione and Ginny exchanged skeptical glances, simultaneously sticking a finger down their throats and gagging in faux horror. “Next!” they both exclaimed in unison, their laughter ringing above the food court’s clamor.

As they walked past the kiosk of the Ice Shack, Hermione couldn't resist ordering a cherry slushie, while Ginny opted for the blue raspberry. They huddled into a corner booth, eagerly awaiting Lavender and Luna's arrival. Ginny reclined comfortably across from Hermione, draping her arm casually over the back of the bench. Arching her neck slightly, she scanned the food court, looking over the heads of everyone sitting down and eating lunch. 

Ginny pulled her straw out of her mouth and tipped her slushie towards Hermione. “You wanna play the ‘Penis’ game while we wait?” she asked, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. 

Hermione dropped her jaw, shaking off her dumbfounded expression before parting her lips to ask, “Do you not see that we’re in public?” 

“That’s exactly where you’re supposed to play! Unless you’re too scared to say the word penis.” 

“I’m not scared to say it.” 

“Then say it! You’re gonna end up seeing and doing Draco’s penis, so you might as well start saying the word, you know?” Ginny tapped her lip thoughtfully and continued, “Or dick, or cock. Maybe even wang.” 

“Ginny, don’t talk about Draco’s penis, that’s weird.” 

“What’s this about Draco’s penis?” Lavender interjected as she approached the table, a Sephora bag in her hand, and Luna following closely behind. Luna cracked her cherry-flavored gum and popped it loudly, her lips forming a hint of a smirk as her cerulean eyes darted between Ginny and Hermione. 

“Why’s everyone obsessed with Draco’s penis?” 

Hermione’s sudden outburst drew the attention of a scowling mother and her toddler seated two tables away. Hermione slumped her shoulders in shame and raised her palms in a gesture of apology, mouthing "sorry.” 

Luna pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle a wave of laughter, the multitude of her bracelets and bangles jingling softly as she moved. Lavender, trying desperately to contain her amusement, buried her face in the crook of Luna's shoulder, her shoulders shaking with suppressed giggles. 

Ginny snorted, dramatically stabbing at the leftover chunks of ice. She pulled her red straw out of her nearly empty cup and pointed it toward her friends. “And that’s probably our cue to leave, yeah?” 

Luna calmly brushed off some imaginary lint from her purple t-shirt, adjusting the front tucked neatly into her oversized cut-off black denim shorts. She twisted the heel of her Doc Martens, glancing over at Hermione and tossing her a cheeky wink. “I say we head over to my house—we’re long overdue for a girls’ night anyway.” 

In the living room of the Lovegoods’ house, Luna lounged with her legs kicked over the arm of an orange accent chair, watching as Hermione flipped through the channels mindlessly from her perch on the couch. 

“Hey Luna, check this out,” Lavender leaned over, jabbing a finger repeatedly into the page, “Ten Tips for Mind Blowing Head,” and tossed the Cosmo magazine into Luna’s open hands, who greedily caught it.  

“Ew, I don't want to hear what you and my brother get up to, Lav.” Ginny appeared from the threshold of the kitchen, a bowl of popcorn snug against herself, as she balanced four bottles of water in her hands, piling them all on the coffee table. 

Lavender jerked her head to Ginny, lips parting to respond, but Luna beat her to the punch. “Gin, Ron broke up with her the night before you left for vacation.” Luna glanced sideways at Lavender, who averted her gaze. “You didn’t tell them yet?” 

“Ah, well, I wanted to wait until—” Lavender stammered out, frozen like a deer in headlights as she watched Ginny, her anger simmering. She placed one hand on her hip and raised her other hand to point at Lavender menacingly, “You just say the word Lavender Brown, and I will strangle the living daylights out of my brother.” 

With a look of adoration, Lavender grabbed Ginny’s fist, “I love your immediate resort to violence on my behalf, but I swear, I’m over him.”  

A phone vibrated once with an incoming text message as it loudly trembled against the glass end table. Lavender let go of Ginny’s fist and stretched over the arm of the couch, blindly grabbing for the phone. The screen's brightness lit up her features, showing a shadow of a smile as she typed a response. 

Ginny dropped to the carpet, sitting cross-legged in front of the couch. Her burst of rage on her friend’s behalf was now gone. She leaned back on her hands and tilted her head to the side, watching Lavender suspiciously. "Who's got you smiling like a fool?” 

The phone vibrated again, and Hermione gasped as she caught the name on the screen from over Lavender’s shoulders, her hands flying to her mouth as she shrieked, “Edmund Lestrange?!” Lavender dropped her phone, a nervous laugh escaping her lips, as a pink tint crept up her cheeks. 

Ginny howled, throwing her head back in laughter, “That just about confirms it! No wonder you're not bent out of shape about my idiot brother.” 

Hermione shifted, resting her elbows on her thighs as she locked eyes with Lavender. “Lav, no offense, he’s just so goofy and—” she stuttered, stifling a laugh, “and such an idiot. I see him almost every day—I never pictured you with him. How'd that happen?” 

Luna looked away from the magazine and smirked slyly, “Oh, you’ll love this. Tell them how it happened.” 

Fidgeting with a lock of her strawberry-blonde hair, Lavender began to explain. “Well, last week, I was at school reviewing our schedule for next month with the coach. Afterwards, I stayed behind to watch the guys’ lacrosse practice, and when they were done, Edmund came up and started flirting with me. And well, one thing led to another.” 

“Lav!” Luna gasped as the magazine slipped from her hands, now lying forgotten in her lap, “Don’t leave out the best part!” 

Lavender glared at Luna, who had no shame about exposing her. She hid her face in her hands and groaned, then let out a strained laugh. Raising her head again, her gaze became unfocused as her eyes drifted to the left, a small smile spreading on her face. “He, um, swiped the school keys from his coach, and we actually star-gazed from the roof the other night.” The tops of her cheeks deepened, turning crimson and spreading down to her neck, igniting her skin. “He surprised me and everything—had a blanket set up and candles.” She squeezed her eyes shut momentarily, unable to hide the lopsided grin that broke free. 

Rapidly blinking in astonishment, Hermione could only manage to mumble out a stunned, “Holy shit.”  

“Man, today is full of unexpected and exciting news.” Ginny grabbed the bowl off the table, munching on the popcorn. “So Hermione,” Ginny began, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “You never told me when you and Draco are gonna start getting down and dirty.” 

Hermione scowled at Ginny but had the decency to look ashamed when she faced Luna and Lavender. “This is not how I wanted to tell you two.” 

Luna stood from the chair, crossing her legs on the floor beside Ginny. Lavender shifted closer on the couch and used her foot to nudge Hermione’s knee. “Spill Girl. What’s the story here?” 

Hermione shared with her friends about Draco’s proposal, explaining how it made sense for them to experiment together since they were best friends. She took a deep breath and recounted her first kiss, her heart fluttering at the memory. They listened intently, eyes wide with excitement, frantically nodding in anticipation. With every detail, Luna, Ginny, and Lavender let out a chorus of “Ooohs” and “Ahhhs.” 

“So before Abraxas almost caught you with your tongue down his baby brother's throat, did you at least get turned on?” 

“Ginny!” 

“What! I’m curious, you know? You’re supposed to be going all the way with him one day.” Ginny hummed, leaning back on her hands. “I just wanna know what’s on the sex-genda.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down, emphasizing her point. 

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and Lavender jumped up from the couch as Ginny and Luna stood up and headed to the kitchen. “Sounds like the pizza is here,” Luna stated, rubbing her stomach. “Thank God, ‘cause I’m starving.” 

Hermione chuckled, amusement washing over her as she masked her sudden worry about her lack of experience. She followed them but glanced back at the Cosmo magazine on the floor. Hermione quickly darted back, grabbed it, and hurriedly shoved it into her bag before entering the kitchen. 

Chapter Text

August 2006

Ginny stood on the sidelines, her feet hip-width apart and hands balled into fists. She scowled at the field where she had just been tumbling, the summer sun beating down on her back. Hermione ambled over with slumped shoulders, hair damp with perspiration. She dropped onto the grass beside Ginny, burying her head between her bent knees. “I officially regret doing this,” she muttered.

Lavender skipped over, her hair bouncing with each step, a bright grin plastered on her face despite the heat. She had her megaphone firmly gripped in her left hand, glued to her side since Monday’s practice. She stopped about ten feet away and raised the megaphone to her lips, but Ginny shot her hand up to stop her.

“If you use that damn thing one more time to bark at us,” Ginny retorted, “I’m going to hunt you down, Lavender Brown. I know where you live.” Lavender frowned, dropping her hand as she continued to her friends.

Luna sat on the bleachers with her legs stretched, shielding her eyes from the sun with her palm. Noticing the break in practice, she skipped down the steps to her friends. She tutted sympathetically at her exhausted friends. “You know, Lav, it’s getting pretty late. You’ve certainly ran enough stunt and dancing drills this morning, don’t ya think?” 

Hermione nodded frantically, desperate to make her friend and cheer captain see reason. Luna glanced down at her and added, “See? Poor Hermione can’t even bring herself to talk.” 

She patted her palm atop Hermione’s head, petting affectionately, like a dog. “And it’s only Wednesday. You still have a couple of weeks of practice before the Trojans Lacrosse team has its first game.”

Sighing, Lavender flicked her wrist to glance at her watch, noticing the time. “I suppose you all have a point. I just want us to be ready in time.” She lifted her megaphone to her mouth, directing the rest of the squad, “Okay, girls, we’ve had enough practice for today. Same time tomorrow morning! Make sure to hydrate and stretch before you leave!” 

A murmur of cheers and “Thank God’s” was heard from the girls, who had also plopped down onto the grass, exhausted from their practice. Hermione got up and pointed a finger at her. “You’re lucky you’re my friend. Otherwise, I’d really hate you for acting like a drill sergeant and basically cheering us into the ground.” 

Laughing and now in a much better mood since practice was over, Ginny linked arms with Hermione and Luna. “Now that this shit show is done, let’s get ice cream.” She glanced back at Lavender, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, “Or should we check on the Lacrosse team? Maybe we'll see some sweaty eye candy, eh, Lavender?

Lavender kept her head down as she packed her bag, trying to avoid teasing. She fluffed her hair up and smoothed down her shirt.

“Shut up,” she replied, clearing her throat. “Let’s head over and see where they’re at.” 

Draco clapped Neville on the back, leaving him running alone before breaking away from their drill. He waved, jogging over to the fence where the girls lingered. Harry ran past, veering off the track to follow in step with Draco.

Continuing his lap, Ron ran by, nearly tripping when Ginny hollered out, “Ron’s a loser!” and flipped him the middle finger.

“Hey, boys,” Lavender said, leaning her arms over the fence as she scanned the other players on the field. “Is it just JV on the field today?”

Feeling a flutter in his stomach at the sight of Hermione—or perhaps from the heat—Draco bent over, placing his hands on his knees and groaning. “The sports gods have smited us with bad luck.” 

Lavender exchanged a glance with Hermione, seeking insight, but Hermione shrugged.

“Yeah, he’s being a bit dramatic, but it's true,” Harry provided, running his hands through his sweat-soaked hair, “We pissed off Coach Snape, so he sent JV outside for drills. Now we actually have something to complain about.” 

Draco straightened up, gesturing behind him at the rest of his teammates. “Varsity didn’t whine like we did, so they're practicing in the AC.” Clearing his throat, Draco focused on Hermione. “Hey, do you wanna come over tomorrow after practice?” He paused, glancing at Ginny, who stifled a laugh, pretending to pluck grass from her seat on the ground. “My mom’s making chicken parm for dinner. I know it's your favorite.”

She tugged on a curl nervously, a shy smile slipping on her face. “Yeah!” she exclaimed, a little too loudly, “Yes, um, of course. Tell her thanks—”

“Come on, let's finish up our last lap and head inside,” Harry said, nudging Draco with a smirk.

Pinching the back of his shirt, Draco lifted it over his head, wiping the sweat from his face with a grimace. Looking from Lavender to Hermione, he grinned. “No worries, my mom loves having you over. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He held a lingering gaze on Hermione before grabbing the back of Harry’s shirt and jogging back into position with the rest of the team. 

Lavender waved her palm against her face, grinning mischievously at Hermione. “Draco’s looking pretty hot without his shirt on, eh?” 

Hermiome rolled her eyes as Ginny snorted behind her. She walked briskly by Lavender, grumbling under her breath, “Shut up, let's get out of here.” 

Lavender caught up, pouting. “But I didn’t even ogle who I wanted to! Varsity is inside!”

With his shirt hanging around his neck, Draco entered the locker room, overhearing Greg ask, “Shit, did you guys see the cheerleaders today?” 

Sitting down on one of the benches, Michael rubbed his hands together and scanned the locker room. “Yeah, of course, but did you see Hermione?” He placed a hand over his heart, sighing dramatically, “She got hotter over the summer. That girl can backbend over my dick any time, as long as she shows me what she’s hiding under that sports bra.” 

Ernie nodded in agreement, cupping his dick over the towel around his waist, “I’ve got her own personal spirit stick right here.” 

Draco shoved his practice gear into his locker, slamming it shut with a force that made everyone jump. Dean laughed loudly behind Draco. “Chill, bro. Frustrated? Doesn’t she live near you? Ask for a handy to help you feel better.” 

Glaring at Dean, Draco picked up his bag and stormed out of the locker room without showering or saying a word, walking home with a brewing anger.

Once inside his room, Draco slammed the bedroom door, tossing his bag on the floor. He ripped off his shirt and threw it towards the hamper, not bothering to check if he made the shot. Shucking his shorts and briefs off, he stomped to his walk-in shower and fiddled with the knobs until the water reached the perfect temperature. 

Standing under the stream, Draco dropped his forehead onto the tiled wall and groaned, letting the water wash away the heat of the day and his frustrations. He grabbed the cedar wood bar scented soap, lathering it between his hands until it was slick enough to clean his chest. He felt a surge of irritation at Michael’s disgusting comment about Hermione. 

“Backbend on my dick? No way in hell, Corner,” he muttered under his breath. 

He continued to work the soap over his chest, drifting down towards his groin, and he felt his acute arousal. Without a second thought, Draco wrapped a palm around himself, twisting his wrist as he stroked himself. 

Closing his eyes, he found his thoughts drifting back to Hermione, remembering what she wore today—or rather, what she didn’t wear. His pulse quickened as he recalled the way her sports bra clung to her chest, revealing herself in a way he hadn’t seen all summer, exposing not just himself but also the entire team to the sight.

No one would dare touch Hermione—not if he had any say in it. 

Leaning his forearm against the wall, he groaned, palming himself faster, unable to stop his hips from thrusting into his fist. Draco bit his bottom lip to stifle the moan in his throat. “Fuck,” he gasped, thoughts of Hermione stretching and bending down to touch her toes drifted in his mind. The curve of her ass taunted him when he thought of her tight spandex shorts.

Just as his brain was about to run wild with would-be images of her without clothes, Draco started to feel his balls tightening at the base of his dick and—

“Uhh, fuck yeah—ohh, shit, yes.”

Panting heavily, Draco opened his eyes, realization crashing over as he finished in his hand. He quickly scrubbed off, watching all the evidence swirl down the drain. Turning the shower off, he wrapped a towel around his waist, padding lazily into his room.

Draco flopped on the bed, smacking his hands to his face and dragging his palms down. Groaning, he stared at his ceiling and voiced his thoughts out loud.

“Fuck.”

Chapter Text

August 2006

It was Narcissa's End-of-Summer Party, a much-anticipated event held every August. Essentially, it was an open invitation to the entire neighborhood, an excuse for the adults to celebrate the end of the chaos they endured with their kids home all summer.

Draco was holed up in his room, his nerves frayed as he paced back and forth. He stopped at the window and peered through the sheer curtains into the backyard, scanning the party for a familiar head of curls. Finding none, Draco sighed and moved to sit on the edge of his bed before dramatically throwing himself back onto the mattress. 

He was suddenly startled from his apprehension by a loud knock at the door. Hopping off the bed, he flung the door open and found Theo and Blaise standing there. Without a word, Draco grabbed both of them by the back of their necks as he hauled them into his room. He poked his head into the hallway, looked left and right, then slammed the door shut.

Blaise stumbled backward, his long legs nearly tripping over Theo’s lanky frame as Draco turned and advanced on them with a crazed gleam in his eyes. He abruptly stopped, then started pacing again, running a hand through his already ruffled hair and mumbling incoherently.

Blaise cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “So, uh, are you having a mental breakdown or something?”

Draco snapped his attention to his friends, strands of pale hair falling over his forehead. He dragged his hands down his face, letting out a groan that sounded like it had been building up for days. Theo and Blaise exchanged looks, confused by his frazzled state. 

Theo turned to Draco, his moss-colored eyes studying him from the bottom up as he raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, you aren't really acting normal, bud.”

Resigned, Draco returned to his bed, sighing, “Okay, fine. You're right. I think I need to talk to you guys.”

Theo raised his eyebrows even more, making lines appear on his forehead. He stretched his neck, nodding his chin out. “Go on, spit it out. What’re you, dying or something?” he joked.

Draco rolled his eyes and continued, “Okay, fine. Listen, but don't judge. I asked Hermione, uh—” he paused, rubbing his chin, “I basically asked her to take my virginity.”

“Whoa. You're kidding?” Theo scoffed when he heard the news. He leaned against Draco’s desk, crossing his arms as he watched him for a reaction.

Draco grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, I'm not kidding. Why is that a bad thing?”

Blaise had moved to the bed after hearing the confession, one knee up, an elbow on his thigh. “Hold on,” he raised his pointer finger questioningly, “And what did Hermione say to that? Don’t tell me she just said yes?”

“Of course she said yes,” Draco answered immediately. "Why wouldn't she? Hermione’s my best friend, and it's not like I'd ask you two—" he made a disgusted face. "I wouldn't even want to."

Blaise smirked. “But you want to… with Hermione?”

Draco’s steel gaze narrowed as he looked at Theo. “Obviously. That's why I asked her.”

“Yeah, obviously, Blaise,” Theo echoed sarcastically, earning a glare from Draco.

Blaise hummed and looked at Theo with a knowing glance before turning to a still restless Draco. "Yeah, this is fine. Totally normal friendship behavior." 

Draco scratched his head, unsure if "friendship" was the right word to use for your best friend that you kissed, agreed to lose your virginity to, and unfortunately jerked off to in the shower—but Theo and Blaise didn't need to know that part. 

“Look, I know I'm just a hopeless virgin who hasn’t even kissed anyone, but asking my best friend to be my first for everything seemed obvious. He bit his lip, saying, "I mean, Hermione’s in the same situation. What better way to learn than with her, so I don't embarrass myself with someone else?" 

"We've only kissed once,” Draco admitted, shoulders dropping as a frown formed on his face. “She said she wanted to do it again, but cheer practice keeps her busy." 

Blaise rose from the bed, nudging Draco's shoulder with an exaggerated wink, "Ah, so you hit first base with her, and you already want to slide into second and third." 

Theo grinned roguishly. "Poor Draco, sitting in the dugout, waiting to hit a home run," he snickered. Blaise and Theo continued to crack jokes at Draco's expense.

Blaise’s laughter calmed down enough that he placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder, looking serious. “Honestly, don't rush it. Enjoy every moment, and—” he glanced down, watching Draco’s hands rub together anxiously. "Talk to us if you ever need advice. You're navigating unfamiliar territory." 

Draco scratched his head, unsure. "Okay, yeah, thanks."

Just then, they heard Mrs. Malfoy's unmistakable voice through the door. She knocked, “Boys! Hermione and the girls have just arrived. Draco, did you hear me?" 

Blaise chuckled softly, shaking his head with amusement. "So, are you ready to see your girl?” he teased, his lips curling into a grin. A faint blush crept up Draco's ears as he shot an annoyed glare in Blaise’s direction. Theo burst into laughter, “Draco’s just itching to play some baseball!”

Narcissa Malfoy left no details to chance, transforming their home into a lively community celebration, a classic American backyard barbecue that neighboring developments would be talking about, envious that they didn't have the chance to attend.

Lights were hung from the trellises along the patio, hanging like glowing tendrils over the pool. The timed lights emitted a soft, golden glow as the sun set, adding a dreamlike, ethereal atmosphere to the yard. The buffet table held finger foods—sliders, grilled steak skewers, and chicken burgers—all prepared by Lucius, who claimed he had tended the grill all morning.

When Hermione arrived at the party, she quickly separated from her parents, who drifted toward Mr. Malfoy and the Browns. She made her way over to Lavender and Ginny, her fingers unconsciously tugging at the hem of her sheer cover-up skirt. Wearing only her swimsuit and the gauzy skirt, a wave of self-consciousness washed over her.

Noticing Hermione’s fidgeting, Ginny swatted her hand away with a gentle but firm, “Quit it!” Then, she quickly untied Hermione's skirt and tossed it onto a nearby chair alongside their towels.

“You look amazing, there’s no need to hide. Show off your fabulous suite, you know someone will be looking for you, ” Ginny said, grinning encouragingly.

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms tightly across her chest in a reflexive, self-conscious attempt to conceal herself. 

Lavender rolled her eyes and playfully nudged Hermione. "Oh, Hermione, relax! You look absolutely fantastic! You know who’s gonna drop dead when he sees you," she teased, trying to boost her friend's confidence. 

She sighed, letting her arms drop and tossing her head back in frustration. “Lav, shut up! Nobody’s gonna die, alright? I’m just like, really nervous.” Hermione tugged on a loose curl, her fingers fidgeting with it. “And I don’t think he’ll even notice.”

Lavender arched an eyebrow, her face turning serious. “Of course he’ll notice! Who wouldn't?” 

Hermione blushed, muttering, “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” then wandered to the poolside. She leaned over, dipping her fingers into the water to check the temperature, her gaze drifting as she tried to compose herself.

Just then, Draco stepped through the French doors onto the patio, his steps faltering as his eyes found Hermione. His gaze lingered as she bent over the pool’s edge, the sound of his friends fading into the background as he took her in, completely captivated by the unexpected sight.

His mouth parted slightly in a silent “Oh,” as he took in her outfit—or rather, her lack of one. Hermione wore a deep red, push-up bikini top that highlighted her curves, drawing his attention to her perfect cleavage. His breath caught as he wondered if her skin would feel as soft as it looked, the thought leaving him slightly dizzy. 

Her waist curved down to slim hips, and bikini strings were tied in small, flirty bows on each side—she looked like a tempting gift waiting to be unwrapped.

It was the first time he'd seen her in a bikini since her sudden growth, and it was enough to make his heart stutter. An unexpected tightness gripped his chest, and before he realized it, he rubbed a hand over his sternum as though he might jump-start his heart. Draco's eyes remained fixed on her, absently running his tongue over his lips, only to be jolted back to reality when Abraxas clapped him on the shoulder, breaking his trance.

“I saw that, baby brother,” Abraxas said smugly. “Finally interested now that you’ve realized she’s a girl with... assets?" 

Draco pulled his shoulder away from Abraxas, muttering, “She’s always had my interest,” and crossed his arms in annoyance. 

Abraxas raised a blonde eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Oh yeah? Tell me more,” he said, casually leaning against the house. 

Draco glared at him, muttering, “Shut up. You know we're just friends." 

"Sure you are. Keep pretending, and once someone else catches her attention..." Abraxas trailed off, his words implying more. 

Draco narrowed his eyes, confused by the cryptic comment. “Leave me alone. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Draco snapped. 

Abraxas chuckled, walking away and tossing over his shoulder, “Keep lying to yourself—and her.”

Draco's gaze shifted back to Hermione, the golden sunlight highlighting her hair and causing it to shimmer. Surprised that he had never noticed these details, he stood awkwardly by the door, unsure what to do. 

It wasn't long before his mother appeared beside him, placing a gentle but insistent arm over Draco’s shoulder. With her usual grace, she guided him across the patio toward Hermione.

“Draco, darling, it’s unbecoming to stand around idly when we have guests,” she chided softly, gesturing ahead.

When they stopped before Hermione, Mrs. Malfoy surveyed her with a pleased smile. "Hermione, you look stunning. I love that bathing suit," she warmly complimented. Then, with a knowing smile, she released Draco's shoulder and asked, "Don't you agree, Draco?" 

Draco swallowed hard, noticing Hermione's light blush and her expression. "Yeah," he mumbled, surprised. He cleared his throat, straightening up. "Yes, Hermione, you look... really great." 

Hermione’s eyebrows arched in surprise as her face grew redder, the color spreading down her neck and across her chest, even visible through her recent tan.

Mrs. Malfoy placed a hand to her chest, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, you two have always been so adorable together,” she cooed, reaching out to pinch Draco’s cheek, moving too quickly for him to dodge it. Narcissa laughed, gliding away to seek her husband, leaving Draco and Hermione alone by the poolside.

Trying to break the silence, Draco mustered up a grin, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “So, you're wearing a bathing suit again,” He let his gaze linger on her momentarily before biting his lower lip. “Does this mean you’ll finally come swimming with me now?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue, feigning annoyance with a soft smirk. Draco chuckled, stepping closer to her, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his swim trunks. "Oh, Hermione, you didn't have to hide from me," he teased. "I mean, look at us now.” He took another step forward, closing the distance between them. “It’s going to be pretty impossible to keep anything from each other now, don’t you think?”

Before Hermione could react, Draco leaned in with a grin, wrapping his arms around her waist. He lifted her off the ground and jumped into the pool, pulling her with him in one quick motion. 

Her surprised shrieks and his laughter echoed as they sank into the deep end, water splashing everywhere. 

Draco still held Hermione close when they emerged, her wet curls framing her face, water glittering on her eyelashes. Draco’s gaze shifted between her eyes, his lips tugging into a soft smile. “You really do look amazing,” he whispered. 

Hermione rolled her eyes again, though her smile betrayed her. She playfully slapped his shoulders, pouting, "I'm soaking wet!" 

His stare briefly drifted to her lips before returning to her eyes, his voice warm. "So? You're still beautiful, Hermione." 

Quickly checking to see if anyone was watching, Draco dipped his head and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. Without waiting, he swam underwater, grinning like a fool the whole time. As he emerged from the pool and grabbed a towel, he cast a quick glance over his shoulder, seeing Hermione still treading water, her hand pressed to her cheek, watching him with a look of stunned surprise. 

With a quiet chuckle, Draco draped the towel around his shoulders and nodded toward the poolhouse, hoping she would follow. He settled under the shade of the trees, leaning against the wall with one knee bent and arms crossed, waiting. 

Moments later, Hermione appeared around the corner, her hands tangled in her wet hair as she tried to gather it into a ponytail, her fingers working awkwardly through the damp strands. Draco straightened, his expression softening as he saw her. 

“No, don't," he said gently, stepping closer. He reached out and held her wrists, gently pulling her hands away from her hair. "I like it when your hair is down," he added quietly. 

Hermione's eyes shifted downward, a shy smile forming at his playful flirting. She lightly pressed her hands against his bare chest, teasing, "You're being weird, but kind of cute today." 

Draco's smile widened as he gently rubbed circles on her wrists with his thumbs, keeping her hands on his chest. He guided her backward without hesitation until her back touched the poolhouse wall. Hermione tilted her head slightly as she felt his eyes linger on her nose, the freckles on her cheeks, and finally her parted lips. Her heart fluttered as she softly asked, "Draco?" 

He didn’t respond with words. 

Draco gently pulled his fingers from her wrists, his hands gliding up her forearms and over her sun-kissed shoulders. Cradling her neck, his fingers slipped into her curly hair, causing a shiver down her spine. 

Hermione's breathing quickened, mirroring his movements as her palms moved up his chest and over his broad shoulders, encircling his neck.

The air between them thickened with tension until Draco suddenly pressed his lips to hers. Hermione gasped and clenched his blonde hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as their lips clashed in a fierce, dominant kiss. 

Draco groaned, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and playfully tugging her lower lip with his teeth. He moved a hand from her hair, his fingers tracing her smooth skin along her neck and down her spine, exploring every dip with his fingertips. He stopped at her lower back, dragging his blunt nails over her back dimples, moving to grip her hips over the bikini strings. 

His conversation about second base quickly flashed in his mind, and Draco pulled his lips just a hair's breadth away from hers, whispering, “Do you trust me?”

With her eyes still closed, Hermione replied, “More than anything.”

Draco moved his hands over the gentle curve of her belly, fingertips brushing her ribs as they slowly inched forward, slipping under the fabric of her bikini top. He hesitated, gazing into Hermione's eyes to seek her consent, and she nodded to encourage him to continue. He cupped his palms over her soft and full breasts, squeezing and caressing them, as he swallowed her soft gasps with the frequent licks of his tongue. 

Hermione’s back arched, and Draco nudged his knee between them, parting her thighs as he pressed closer. The seam of his trunks started to tighten, his bulge straining against the fabric. Needing relief, Draco bucked against Hermione’s hip, pressing impossibly close to her.

Draco whimpered as his thumbs lightly brushed her nipples, causing them to harden under his touch. Excitedly, he hurriedly moved his hand, unintentionally tugging the top knot loose. As the strings unraveled, her top fell, leaving her bare in front of Draco.

He quickly stepped back, his eyes dropping to her chest as they instantly darkened with desire.  Draco swallowed momentarily, speechless until Hermione released a soft “Oh” and quickly raised an arm to cover her chest, holding her top in place.

She turned her back and hid the flush that colored her cheeks. Hermione gathered her hair over one shoulder, and, in a soft, almost shy tone, asked, "Um, Draco, do you think you could...?"

For a moment, Draco just stared, lost in the whirl of thoughts running through his head, before he snapped back to reality. He gave a quick, vigorous nod, then realized she couldn’t see him.

Draco was momentarily lost in thought, his mind left spinning. Suddenly, he snapped back to reality with a jolt. He hurriedly nodded, only to realize she couldn't see him. 

Clearing his throat, he forced a confident tone and said, "Yes, yes, of course, I'll do that."

He fumbled with the strings for a moment, hands shaky, but managed to securely tie her bikini back in place. As Draco finished tying the knot, footsteps approached. Around the corner came Abraxas, Edmund, and Tom — only to freeze in surprise as they saw Draco standing behind Hermione, his hands still on the ties of her bathing suit top.

The air was thick with silence, each searching for the right words.

Draco broke the tension with a nervous, "Umm," withdrawing his hands quickly and rubbing the back of his neck.

Abraxas raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips, and pointed back and forth between them. "Umm... Yeah. What’s going on here?" 

His piercing eyes darted between Hermione's blushing face and Draco's uncomfortable stance, clearly catching on to the situation. Tom crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at Draco, while Edmund looked at the brothers with confusion. 

Hermione coughed into her fist and said, "Draco was just... helping me fix my top. And, um, now we're done!" 

She quickly bent down to pick up Draco's towel, which had fallen to the ground during their heated moment. Grabbing Draco's wrist, she practically dragged him back toward the party, leaving Abraxas, Tom, and Edmund exchanging skeptical glances.

They slipped seamlessly into the lively party crowd, Hermione’s brown eyes gleaming mischievously as she nudged Draco with her shoulder. Leaning closer, she whispered with a sly grin, "Oh God,  I can't believe we nearly got caught!" 

Draco chuckled softly, a daring smirk curling his lips as he placed a steady hand on her lower back, guiding her. "Hope it doesn't become a habit," he teased, his voice smooth.

She paused, facing him fully, her expression flickering with excitement. "We’re gonna have to be more careful in the future,” she declared.

Draco's arm slid around her waist, pulling her close with a confident ease, making her heart beat stutter and a shiver run down her spine. His lips brushed softly against her ear as he leaned in, his voice a low, conspiratorial whisper, "Why don't we sneak away to my room? The future could start right now."

Hermione hesitated, biting her lip as her mind raced. The noisy patio around them buzzed with chatter, her parents deep in conversation with Draco's, utterly unaware. Nearby, Draco's brother lingered by the pool house with his friends, moments from their daring escape earlier. Though their own friends were absent, the thrill of Draco's proposal pulsed through her veins.

She tilted her head slightly, meeting his piercing steel-grey gaze, her own shimmering with excitement. "Okay," she whispered, her voice determined, as she linked fingers with his, following after him into the house.

Chapter Text

August 2006

In the days following the party, Draco and Hermione were drawn together like magnets, their connection deepening with an intensity neither could ignore. 

Every stolen glance, every brush of fingertips, seemed to ignite a spark that left them yearning for more. They moved with a shared understanding and newfound confidence as they explored each other, always a step ahead of his brother and his friends’ prying eyes.

By Thursday evening, the week’s simmering tension reached a boiling point

Draco, still buzzing with adrenaline from an intense lacrosse practice, caught Hermione’s gaze across the field. It was a fleeting moment, but their unspoken agreement was clear. 

Draco's resolve took over as soon as they escaped the chaos of the field and slipped back into the sanctuary of his house. Seizing Hermione’s hand, he led her with a sense of urgency, weaving through the halls until they reached his room.

Hermione barely had a moment to steady herself before he turned, his hands finding her waist as Draco pinned her against the door. For a fleeting moment, their eyes met before he slowly leaned in, capturing her soft lips into a passionate kiss, and leaving her breathless. 

Pulling his mouth away, Draco briefly teased her as he traced his tongue along the seam of her lips. Hermione clutched his silky blonde hair, crashing her lips against his with greed, their tongues fighting for dominance in the warmth of their mouths.

He slid his hand down Hermione’s soft thighs, moving around the curve of her ass, his fingers indenting her flesh. Draco rained soft kisses down her jaw and along her neck, lifting her one leg and pressing Hermione into him. He slowly ground his thickening bulge against her, making her moan. 

Hermione tugged his hair sharply at his teasing, making him hiss. With a soft gasp, she hovered over his lips and whispered, “Oh, I’m sorry!”

Draco buried his face in Hermione’s neck, releasing a low grunt before pulling his head away. His eyes heated with intensity; in a husky tone that sent shivers down her spine, he murmured, “Don’t be. I liked it.”

He brought his other hand to her breast, palming, squeezing, and kneading as he ran his fingers over the thin fabric of her tank top. Draco moaned as Hermione focused her mouth on his delicate earlobe– nibbling and licking it, encouraging Draco to grind harder against her.

His warm breath brushed against Hermione’s skin as he leaned closer to her neck and whispered, “Hermione, that feels so good. You’re—you’re giving me goosebumps.”

Draco gave a teasing lick to her neck, enclosing his lips around her fluttering pulse and sucking it with gusto. With one final squeeze to her breast, he brought his hand down to her other thigh, hitching it around his waist. Hermione locked her ankles behind his back instinctively.

Draco palmed her ass with both hands now, squeezing her flesh as he ground into her. He grinned into the crook of her neck with satisfaction as he pulled soft little moans from her.

"Kids! Dinner's ready!" Mrs. Malfoy’s voice echoed down the hallway, breaking the spell and snapping Draco and Hermione back to reality.

Reluctantly, they pulled away, both significantly breathless, their faces flushed with the lingering thrill of their stolen moment. Hermione bit her bottom lip, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes as she gazed up at Draco. The air between them still felt charged as her heart thumped rapidly against her chest.

He let his hand linger at her waist before brushing his fingers lightly against her cheek. Leaning in, he captured her mouth with one more soft kiss. As he pulled back, his grey eyes searched hers, his expression tender and dreamy. Draco’s fingers slipped into her now-tousled curls, and a small boyish smile crept onto his face.

Hermione chuckled softly, tilting her head as curiosity danced in her eyes. “Why are you so smiley?” she asked, her voice teasing but delicate.

Draco released her gently, letting her slide back onto her feet with a soft thud. Leaning one forearm against the doorframe, he reached out again, his fingertips brushing the curve of her cheek. The delicate touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she closed her eyes briefly, savoring the warmth of the moment.

With a tender kiss pressed to her forehead, Draco murmured, “I’m just happy.” His voice was low, almost reverent, as if the simplicity of the moment held more weight than either of them could fully grasp.

The next evening, Draco and Abraxas perched on the high stools at the kitchen counter, their attention fixed on the scene unfolding in the entryway. Their father was wrestling with a mountain of luggage– three oversized duffel bags awkwardly slung over his shoulders and a suitcase dragging behind him.

"Hey, Mom. What's with all the bags?" Draco asked, tilting his head toward the absurd pile threatening to topple their father.

Narcissa breezed into the kitchen, unfazed. "Oh, honey! It's just a weekend trip with my sisters, I just needed a few things.” 

Abraxas smirked, barely containing a laugh. "A few? What exactly are you, Aunt Andy, and Bella planning to do this weekend?" he teased. 

Lucius let the bags drop with a heavy thud by the front door and straightened with a groan. "When all three of them are together, the possibilities are endless."

She laughed, her voice echoing through the hallway as she sauntered toward the front door. 

“We’ll behave, I promise,” she called over her shoulder.

With a flourish, Narcissa swung the door open and disappeared outside. Their father followed, but not before pausing in the kitchen doorway, giving both boys a pointed look.

"I'm headed to Rudolphus’s after I drop your mom off, and I'll be back tomorrow. I don't entirely trust you two, but remember: don’t drive my car, don't get arrested, and for the love of God, don't burn the house down. Got it?" 

The brothers snapped to attention, their voices a perfect chorus of exaggerated obedience. "Yes, sir!" Their father narrowed his eyes at their smirking faces before finally leaving.

The moment the car's sound faded, Abraxas sprang off his stool, slapping the counter, catching Draco’s attention. 

"Alright, I'm off to Tom's! We're raiding his dad’s garage for beers and bringing them back with Edmund. You in, or is Hermione gracing you with her presence again?"

Draco rolled his eyes, leaning back lazily. “Hermione's at Ginny's for now, but she's swinging by later."

Abraxas laughed, flicking Draco’s ear before dodging the retaliatory swat. “Let’s go then! We can use another set of arms.” He shouted, already halfway to the door. 

Ginny leaned casually against the doorframe, basking in the warm glow of the porch light, her lips curled into a smile at the lively scene before her. Hermione swayed happily, clutching onto Lavender for dear life, their giggles spilling into the night—Hermione's more boisterous and unsteady, clearly a bit tipsy from the wine. 

Lavender nudged Hermione forward and called over her shoulder, "Thank Blaise for sneaking us wine from his mom's stash! Some of us,” she snorted, “might've had a bit too much," gesturing at Hermione. 

Ginny burst into laughter, throwing her head back as she watched her friends stumble and giggle down the sidewalk toward the Malfoys. 

"Get there in one piece!" she called after them.

Clearly drunk but still spirited, Hermione sang loudly, "Happy birthday to the best redhead I know!" as she leaned against the Weasley mailbox. The trio dissolved in laughter before finally breaking apart. 

The girls linked hands as they stepped onto the sidewalk, their giggles trailing behind them into the night. The moon hung high above them, casting a silvery glow over the quiet streets. Their arms swung in unison, carefree and light, until Lavender leaned in closer, her grin turning playful. 

“So,” she whispered, her eyes wide and voice brimming with curiosity, “Did you and Draco.. You know, do the deed?”

Hermione stumbled mid-step, her face paling under the moonlight. “Lavender!” she hissed, her voice a mix of embarrassment and laughter. She released Lavender’s hand and straightened her dress, smoothing the fabric with deliberate strokes as if trying to iron out her flustered thoughts. 

Clearing her throat, she raised a finger in seriousness, “We’re taking it slow. Really slow. Just... going with the flow.” She hesitated, a faint blush creeping up her neck. “And, well, the flow is not there yet.”

Lavender smirked, stifling her laughter behind her teeth. Seizing Hermione’s hand again, she tugged her forward, their steps falling back into rhythm. 

“That’s totally fine,” Lavender said with a knowing grin. “Ronald was my first, and let me tell you, it was awful! It hurt; it wasn’t fun, and, honestly, it felt like it was over before it even started.” She sighed dramatically, pouting as if the memory still stung.

But then her expression shifted, a smile tugging at her lips. “Now, Edmund?” she whistled low, her eyes sparkling with a dreamy haze. “That boy knows exactly what he’s doing. Every time, it’s like—wow.” She sighed contentedly, clearly lost in a daydream. “I cannot wait to see him.”

Hermione shook her head, a laugh slipping out despite herself. “Lavender, you’ve got it bad.”

Snapping out of her reverie, Lavender grinned wickedly. “Oh, please. Enough about me! Let’s talk about you and Draco. If you’re not getting some,” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “then are you at least having some fun?”

Hermione’s cheeks burned as she clutched Lavender’s arm, her mind flooded with memories of stolen kisses and lingering glances. The way Draco’s stormy gray eyes softened when he looked at her, the way his touch sent shivers down her spine—it was enough to make her heart flutter all over again.

“Oh, um, yeah, of course,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, wholly lost in the whirlwind of emotions.

Lavender gasped, her eyes widening as she caught the unmistakable look on Hermione’s face. “Oh my God, girl! You are totally crushing on Draco,” She snapped her fingers triumphantly, her voice rising excitedly. “I knew it! I knew this would happen!”

“Lavender!” Hermione shrieked, her wide eyes darting at the Malfoys’ front yard. “Keep your voice down!” She tugged Lavender closer, her tone urgent. “Seriously, I don’t—ok so I am, just—just forget everything I said, okay?”

Lavender raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but didn’t push. Hermione forced a strained smile, her panic barely concealed beneath it. 

“Besides,” she added quickly, “we’ve had a few drinks. Anything I say tonight doesn’t count, right?”

Lavender studied her intently, looking Hermione up and down as if trying to peel back the layers of her friend's emotions. With a thoughtful hum, she leaned in closer, her voice soft. “Whatever you say, babe. But don’t think for a second I’m letting this go tomorrow.”

Before Hermione could protest, Lavender turned and knocked firmly on the Malfoys’ front door, the sound echoing through the quiet evening air. Hermione took a deep breath, her nerves dancing as she prepared to face whoever was waiting on the other side.

“Look who I found?" Abraxas exclaimed with a cheeky smile, leaning casually against the door frame. Hermione peeked out eagerly, her face lighting up when her eyes landed on Draco.

"Dracooo! My best friend!" she squealed, clapping her hands together and bouncing down the steps enthusiastically. 

Hermione threw herself onto Draco’s lap, giggling as she looped her arms around his shoulders. Draco's gaze briefly flicked down to her exposed thighs, and his hand gently rested on her skin, smoothing her skirt in a protective, almost instinctual gesture. A soft chuckle escaped him at her drunken exuberance.

"So," he teased, his grin widening, "looks like you guys had a few drinks, huh?"

Lavender sauntered over to the couch, sinking down beside Edmund. He immediately leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her cheek before draping his arm over the back of the sofa, drawing her closer.

Abraxas approached the seating area, his hands cupped over his mouth as he shouted “Gross!” and plopped down in a patio chair.

Edmund responded by flipping him off while delicately placing his other hand on Lavender's neck, pulling her in for a bold, unrestrained kiss. Their entwined lips produced wet, teasing sounds, intentionally loud and obscene to provoke Abraxas.

Abraxas howled with laughter, clapping his hands together loudly as Tom rolled his eyes, raising his drink in silent amusement.

"You guys need a room," he muttered dryly, shaking his head with a smirk.

Seizing the moment, Edmund leapt to his feet, his energy infectious, and extended a hand to Lavender. His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief. "Come on, Lavender. These idiots are just jealous. Let's go."

Lavender raised an eyebrow, a hint of confusion crossing her face as she slipped her fingers into his. "Go? Where?”

"Don’t think, just come," Edmund whispered, leading her toward the pool deck, where the stars twinkled above like scattered diamonds. Their laughter echoed into the night as Edmund spun her around, moving to their own rhythm under the open sky, lost in their carefree dance.

Back at the patio, Draco gently nudged Hermione, his bladder reminding him of its urgency. With a reluctant sigh, he drained the last of his beer and carefully lifted Hermione off his lap.

“Be right back," he murmured, heading inside in search of the bathroom and another drink to keep the night alive.

Hermione's cheerful and carefree expression caught Tom's attention. The soft evening light cast a golden hue over her features. He watched her push off the chair, sitting beside him with a teasing smile as she bit her lower lip.

"Isn't it just the strangest thing?" she asked playfully, looking up at him with fluttering lashes. 

Tom shifted, angling his body toward her. The soft evening light cast a golden glow across her features. His arm draped over the back of the couch, narrowing the space between them. His smirk mirrored hers as he watched the sparkle in her eyes. 

"What's strange?" he responded softly, nodding toward Edmund and Lavender, who were still laughing and twirling by the pool deck, caught up in their own world. "You mean them?"

“Yes, you silly goose!” Hermione burst into laughter, playfully swatting Tom’s chest. The gesture drew a deeper smile from him, one that softened the sharpness of his features. Hermione drained the last of the beer and set it on the table, wobbling precariously before it steadied.

She then drew her legs up beneath her and leaned closer to Tom with a lively grin.

“I mean Edmund! Look at him, being all cutesy with Lavender!” Her eyes widened with delight as she pointed toward the pool deck.

Suddenly losing her balance, Hermione toppled forward, her hands landing firmly on Tom's chest. She closed the gap, leaning in and whispering secretively, her eyes glassy from the alcohol. 

"Did you know he even took her stargazing on the school roof?"

The moonlight cast a soft glow over her features, highlighting the flush of her cheeks as she gazed into Tom’s piercing blue eyes. His expression reflected amusement, and perhaps, something more beneath the surface. Tom’s laughter was rich and warm, flowing effortlessly as his fingertips lightly brushed the tops of her arms, then drifted down to rest at her waist.

“Of course I know," he admitted, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I set everything up—the food, the spot, everything. The kid just had to show up and pretend it was all his idea." His voice carried a faint note of pride as his hand lingered at her waist before casually sliding onto her bare knee, a natural yet undeniably intimate gesture.

“He’s just a little fool in love,” he added with a shake of his head, his smirk deepening.

Hermione gasped, dramatically touching her chest in surprise. “Well, that explains a lot,” she said quietly, settling back against the couch. Her eyes drifted upward, and she let out a soft sigh as she took in the stars scattered across the deep indigo sky like glittering jewels.

Hermione looked at him again, curious. "So, Tom,” she began, her tone light as she caught his eye, “When are you gonna sweep some lucky girl off her feet?”

Tom’s fingers found the ends of her curls, toying with the soft strands as they tumbled over his arm and the back of the couch. He thoughtfully twisted a curl between his fingers, his gaze lifting to the sky. The stars reflected faintly in his eyes as he spoke, his voice low and contemplative.

“I suppose I’m just waiting for the right moment to make my move,” he murmured.

Draco stepped out from the shadowy interior of the house, his eyes immediately snapping to Tom, who sat far too close to Hermione for his comfort. A sneer played on his lips as irritation and a hint of possessiveness flickered in his stormy grey eyes.

As Draco approached, the faint sound of his footsteps on the deck drew Tom's attention. He turned just in time to meet Draco's piercing and unwavering stare. His carefree smile while talking to Hermione faltered ever so slightly.

Instantly, Tom released Hermione's curls, His arm sliding down from the back of the couch, tentative, almost ashamed.

Draco moved calmly around the couch, claiming a seat beside Hermione, the space between them nearly nonexistent. His arm brushed her as he leaned back, though his sharp glare at Tom remained unrelenting.

"Draco! You're back!" Hermione exclaimed, her bubbling with delight. She giggled, her curls bouncing as she playfully slapped his thigh. She snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck. A teasing grin tugged at her lips as she whispered, "Did you know Tom gave Edmund the idea for the stargazing date?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, his expression caught between disbelief and disdain. He slowly lifted his beer, taking a long, contemplative sip before responding. "Did he now? That's cute." The words were flat, but the underlying bite was unmistakable.

Oblivious to the tension crackling between the boys, Hermione reached for her drink on the table. She shook it gently, frowning that it was empty. Her pout softened Draco's expression, and a genuine laugh escaped him.

Draco rose smoothly, setting his beer down with a quiet thud. He extended his hand toward her, a smile tugging at his lips, the earlier hostility melting away completely.

“Come on, let’s go inside and get another drink,” he suggested, his voice low and inviting. 

Abraxas relaxed in his chair as he observed the scene with an amused smirk. His gaze flickered to Tom, who appeared increasingly frustrated, and he chuckled softly, shaking his head at the spectacle.

"You realize you just missed the 'right moment' there, right?" 

Tom groaned loudly, his head falling back against the couch. His eyes squeezed shut as he rubbed them with the heels of his hands as if trying to erase the memory of what had just transpired.

"Please, Abraxas, don't remind me," he muttered, his voice low and edged with frustration and a hint of regret. He slowly lifted his head, leaning forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. Tom stared longingly at the door where Abraxas’s brother and Hermione had just escaped through.

"Look at your brother! He's swooping around like some overgrown dragon, guarding his hoard,” Tom added, exasperated. 

Abraxas chuckled heartily, tipping his beer toward Tom. "You give my little brother too much credit, you know? He doesn't own Hermione. He doesn’t even know what the hell he is doing. Anyway,” He paused, taking a slow sip of his drink, savoring the cool taste before pausing to fix Tom with a piercing, almost challenging gaze.

"Don't let him be an excuse to hold back. If you want something, go after it."

Walking into the kitchen, Draco held Hermione’s hand until she playfully tugged back, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “Dracoooo," she teased, her voice light and airy.

He turned to face her, moving to lean against the counter and widening his stance, encouraging her to step into the space between his legs. 

Slowly, almost shyly, she pressed her hands to his sternum; her caress sent a thrill through him, his breath stuttering slightly, though he kept his expression relaxed. Hermione’s honey-brown eyes widened as they slowly took in his face, the soft overhead light casting a warm glow around him, making him seem almost ethereal. She ran her hands up to his shoulders, pressing against him and lifting her arms up, rising onto her toes to reach the top of his head.

Draco’s amusement chuckled softly, his hands moving to find her hips, steadying her as she wobbled slightly. “What are you doing?” he asked, a smirk curling on his lips as he watched her efforts. 

"Have you always been this tall?" she pouted, dropping back onto her heels. Hermione leaned her chin against his chest, gazing up at him with an intense focus, her curls framing her face like a halo. With a light huff, she blew a stray curl out of her eyes, her voice tinged with nostalgia. “I remember when we were the same height.”

Draco couldn’t help himself when a loud but warm laugh escaped, his shoulders shaking with the movement. “That was a long time ago,” he murmured, “We haven't been the same height for quite a while now."

Undeterred, Hermione rose once more onto her tiptoes, her fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt, her eyes shimmering with determination. "Yeah? You know what else feels like it's been a while?" she asked, her voice dropping, turning husky.

Draco leaned down, his face now mere inches from hers. His breath fanned Hermione’s lips as he whispered, "What?"

Her smirk deepened just before she pressed her lips to his, the kiss soft but charged with everything they’d held back. “This,” she murmured between kisses. 

When they pulled away, Hermione’s eyes remained locked on his, her hands moving to the nape of his neck, “I don’t want to drink anymore,” she confessed, her breath brushing over his ear.

Draco swallowed hard, his voice coming out in a low rasp. “Do you wanna go to my room?” His gaze flickered between her eyes, searching for a response, the unspoken words floating between them. 

With a mischievous smile, she took his hand firmly, her fingers intertwining with his as she led him down the softly lit hallway toward his room. 

Upon entering his bedroom, Draco quietly locked the door behind him. He leaned against the solid wood of the door, dropping his head back as his chest rose and fell in a measured rhythm. He gently lifted his head, his steel-grey eyes fixed on Hermione, observing her. 

She stood in the center of the room, her fingers moving idly through the soft waves of her hair, twisting the strands absentmindedly. A faint pink flush appeared on her cheeks from indulging in one too many drinks. There was something unguarded about her then, and Draco couldn’t quite tear his eyes away.

He crossed the room in long, confident strides, masking the thunderous rhythm of his heart. His hands reached for her wrists, drawing her closer until the heat of her breath mingled with his. As their eyes met, his grey eyes darkened with an unreadable emotion, while hers searched his face warily but with curiosity.

Draco walked backwards, guiding her with him until the backs of his knees met the bed. He scooted against the headboard and patted the space beside him, watching her gaze dart between him and the spot he’d offered. 

For a fleeting second, it seemed she might refuse, but then she shifted, pressing her knee into the mattress. Before she could second-guess herself, Draco’s hands were on her again, tugging her other leg. In one fluid motion, she gasped, finding herself perched in his lap, and their proximity sent a rush of warmth through her.

“What are you up to, Draco?” she asked softly, swatting lightly at his chest.

Draco’s hands slid to her waist, his thumbs pressing into the curve of her hips. His breath hitched, shallow and uneven, as his voice dropped into a low, husky murmur. “Nothing, Hermione. I’m just getting comfortable.” 

Hermione’s hands glided over the breadth of his shoulders and trailed down his back. Her fingers traced the firm lines of his muscles, shaped by years of lacrosse practice. 

She bit her lower lip, and a shy glance peeked out at him from beneath the dark curtain of her lashes. Gently, he lifted a hand from her hip, his fingers tilting her chin upward until her eyes met his. “Where’d my fun little drunk best friend go?” he teased, a lopsided smile curling his lips. 

Hermione groaned, rolling her eyes so dramatically it was almost theatrical. “Ugh! Nowhere! I just never realized how good-looking you are!” she replied.

Draco’s laugh erupted deep in his chest as his head fell against the headboard. The sound filled the room, and the sight of his exposed neck—taut and vulnerable—caught Hermione’s attention. She leaned forward, her breath warm against his skin, as her lips brushed lightly over the curve of his neck, sending a shiver through him. 

Hermione’s tongue flicked teasingly against the sensitive spot just above his pulse. She followed it with a firm kiss, her lips lingering as she sucked gently. Draco planted his hands on her hips, shutting his eyes as he let out a moan.

She removed her hands from his back and slipped her fingers under the straps of her dress, sliding them down her shoulders. With her mouth still firmly planted on his neck, Hermione placed her right hand over his — guiding it off her hip and to her bare breast. 

At the touch, Draco’s eyes snapped wide open, his fingers sinking into her bare skin as an involuntary whine escaped his lips. His dick rapidly hardened between her thighs as Hermione ground against him, only the fabric of her underwear between them. 

Her fingers tangled into his hair, grasping desperately to anchor herself to something. Draco hissed, sliding his other hand along her ribs and over her spine, gripping her curly hair to pull her off his neck. 

Panting into her mouth, he rasped, “That's enough of that,” and pressed into her mouth for a bruising kiss.

His fingers explored her breast gently, tracing around her areola, leaving feather-light touches. Draco pinched her nipple, and Hermione whined into his mouth, rubbing herself faster against his dick.  As he drew back from her soft lips, his breath grazed her skin, and he leaned into her neck, whispering, “Does that feel good?” 

He littered open-mouth kisses on her neck, down her collarbone, and above her breasts. Hermione tipped her head back; her body felt on fire. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and with a breathy tone, she murmured, “Yes, oh my God.”

Draco felt the increasing pressure in his lower half. Gripping Hermione’s shoulders firmly, he gasped, his breath ragged and shallow as he choked out, “We have to stop.”

Her fingertips brushed lightly against her lips, her brows knitted together in anxious concern as she looked up at him with wide, questioning eyes. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked softly.

His disheveled hair mirrored his frantic state as he shook his head. “No! No, it’s not you—I just need to calm down. I feel like I’m about to come.”

“Can I help? Maybe you can show me how you like to do it?”

Draco pressed his forehead to hers, his warm breath grazing her lips as a strained laugh slipped out. “Ok, yeah. I'll show you.” As he reached a hand down to his belt buckle, his finger brushed against the inside of her thigh, nearly catching the edge of her underwear. 

Draco paused, his gaze locking with Hermione’s; “But I want to touch you too,” he murmured.

Hermione nodded, her wide eyes never leaving Draco’s hands as she watched him intently. Draco unbuckled his belt, pulling himself out over his briefs. He was long and hard and smooth. She gently traced the pads of her fingers along its length, eliciting a subtle twitch in response.

Draco hissed, letting his head fall back as a soft laugh slipped from his lips. “I’m really sensitive right now, Hermione—that feels way too good.” 

He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before lifting his head again, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. “I think I’m okay now.”

He placed his palm over hers, guiding it to himself and intertwining their fingers around his stiff cock. He moved their hands in a steady back-and-forth motion, showing her the rhythm. Draco gently twisted her wrist, guiding her fingers to glide smoothly over the top of his cock, and pressed her thumb over the slit, letting it glide into the bead of pre-cum already pooling there.

He closed his eyes, a shudder coursing through him, “Yeah, just like that.” 

Draco’s other hand inched over her thighs, his fingers stopping at the seam of her underwear. He opened his lust-filled eyes, his voice trembling as he implored, “Can I keep going?”

Hermione slid her hand from his tousled hair to his shoulder, shaking her head gently. “Yeah. Yes,” she murmured, her voice soft as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth.

Draco's fingers traced over the cotton of her underwear, the fabric already wet and sticking to her sensitive skin. His fingers clumsily pushed the fabric to the side — and Draco felt the heat of her silky flesh. He slid a finger through the moisture of her folds and over her bundle of nerves, causing Hermione to buck with a sudden sharp moan.

In response, she tightened her grip around Draco, drawing a low, whispered “Fuck” from his lips, leaving his mouth slightly open in disbelief.

Hermione leaned forward and licked his tongue, pressing in greedily, kissing him and moaning. Draco felt the vibrations all the way down to his throbbing dick. His fingers scrambled and slid down further, his movements frantic and unsteady until he slipped just one into Hermione and felt just how tight she was around him.

He dropped his hand from Hermione’s, gripping the bedsheets tightly, “God, Hermione, you're so fucking warm and wet and shit—” he choked out as her inner muscles clenched around his finger, “I just felt you do that.” 

Draco whimpered as he dug his head in the crook of her neck. Licking her skin, he softly whispered, “I’m not even gonna last long, not now and not when we have sex. I'm about to cum, you feel so good, I can’t even stop myself.” He babbled on, thrusting into her hand as he continued to slide his finger in and out of her.

“That's ok; I wanna see,” Hermione softly gasped as she continued to stroke him, twisting her wrist and swiping her thumb over his cock’s head as he had shown her. Their lips crashed together in a frenzy, a mix of teeth and tongue as they frantically reached for each other.  

Consumed by the overwhelming sensations, Draco was no longer able to focus on his finger inside her pussy, his free hand gripped into the flesh of her hips. He squeezed his eyes shut, just as he came all over her hands with a grunt. Draco immediately pulled his finger out, flushing red, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He mumbled, “Sorry,” as he averted his eyes from the mess he had made.

Hermione lifted her messy hand, spreading her fingers apart as she curiously watched his cum cling to them. Tilting her head, she asked boldly, “Have you ever tasted it?”

“Umm, no, never did,” Draco cleared his throat, “I never really thought about it. Why?” 

He watched as Hermione brought her fingers to her mouth. “Well, I should try it while I have it, right? I’m gonna... um, go down on you eventually, so I should be prepared.” 

Draco stopped breathing as she dipped two fingers into her mouth, and he nearly fainted at the sight, his gaze locked on her as she licked them clean. His throat bobbed. He felt like his soft cock might spring up again. 

Draco shifted uncomfortably and asked, “So, how was it?”

Pursing her lips in thought, Hermione glanced up at the ceiling before lowering her eyes to examine her hand, as if searching for the right words. Breaking into a light laugh, she shrugged. “Not bad. Salty. Tastes like... weird skin? It’s hard to put into words, really.”

Glancing over her shoulder at the dimly lit bathroom, Hermione slowly lifted herself off Draco’s lap, feeling the heat of the moment dissipate. “Um, I should go clean up,” she murmured, her voice tinged with a hint of shyness. With a soft sigh, she padded across the room, her footsteps barely audible on the cool floor.

As Hermione cleaned up, Draco reached behind him, tearing off his shirt with a swift motion. He crumpled the fabric in his hands, using it to wipe away any remnants of his cum from his skin. Satisfied with his makeshift cleanup, he tucked himself back into his briefs, unbuttoned his jeans, and let them drop to the floor with a soft thud. After rummaging through his drawer, he pulled out two fresh shirts, slipping into one and leaving the other out for Hermione.

With a gentle push, Hermione nudged the door open, the soft click of the bathroom light fading as she stepped back into Draco's room. Holding out the extra shirt toward Hermione, she tilted her head slightly. 

“What’s this for?” She raised an eyebrow, her gaze lingering on him.

“Just stay over, Hermione,” Draco murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He watched her gaze flit around the room, the moonlight casting long shadows on the walls as she tried to make sense of her swirling thoughts.

She glanced down, her fingers absentmindedly picking at her cuticles, and replied softly, “Won’t it be weird?”

Draco tilted his head, a slight crease forming between his brows. “Weird? What do you mean weird? We’ve been doing this since we were kids.” He stretched across his bed, reaching for her hand and enclosing it warmly. Hermione shrugged, the fabric of her dress shifting with the subtle movement. 

“Yeah, but we haven’t yet this summer.” Her wide brown eyes met his, shimmering in the soft moonlight streaming through the window, bathing the room in a silver glow.

“Who cares? It’s late already, and our parents don’t mind,” Draco said, pulling her beside him. He dropped the shirt onto the bed, settling close to her as he turned onto his stomach and rested his head in her lap. Letting out a contented sigh, he guided her hands to his hair. 

“Play with my hair,” he asked with a playful smile.

A soft, airy laugh escaped Hermione’s lips as her fingers began to weave through Draco’s soft, blonde strands. Feeling a sudden surge of affection, Draco let his hand drift to her hip, his fingers tracing slow, gentle circles beneath her shirt, savoring the warmth of her skin.

Their breaths gradually fell into sync, the tension of the day melting away. Wrapped in each other’s presence, a soothing stillness settled over them, like a comforting blanket drawing them closer to sleep.

Chapter Text

September 2006

The last few weeks of summer flew by in a dizzying blur, each passing day becoming shorter and shorter as the sun's golden glow settled lower in the sky. Once thick with the warmth and humidity of Summer, the air began to carry the crispness that hinted at the approaching Autumn. Before long, the first day of school had arrived, and the air buzzed with the anticipation of a new school year.

Luna, Lavender, Ginny, and Hermione stood side by side, gazing up at the imposing facade of their school, a four-story building composed of rich burgundy bricks. Each block bore witness to decades of drama and the perils of teenagers growing up as they navigated through high school. 

The morning sun reflected off the arched windows of the fourth floor, illuminating the glass and sending rays of sunlight into their eyes and spurts of rainbow color as they blinked away. They took a few steps forward, their movements a carefully coordinated effort to remain together in the bustling crowd. 

"So.. do you think I can just stay out here?" Ginny whined. "I'm really not ready to start sophomore year yet." The corners of her lips drooped in a pout, a picture of the despair of her youth. The air filled with the vibrant energy of the other students, their chatter and laughter echoing against the brick walls as she struggled to muster the motivation to join them. 

Ginny gripped Hermione's upper arm, shaking her lightly, "Gods, please don't make me go! Take me back to summer!" she released Hermione, extending her arm out theatrically before clenching her fist over her heart as if she were enduring an unbearable tragedy. 

Hermione rolled her eyes, laughing at the absurdity of their friend. “C’mon, Gin, it’s only sophomore year. It won’t be that hard.”  

“It won’t be that hard, huh?” Ginny mocked Hermione, sighing as she dropped her load of textbooks onto one of the wooden study desks in the library. The thud echoed slightly in the quiet atmosphere, the sudden noise jolting Hermione out of her focused studying haze.

The commotion drew the attention of the stern librarian, Ms. Pince, who glared sharply in their direction.

Ginny yanked the chair from under the table, its legs scraping against the floor as she sank down and crossed her arms. "It's only Friday, Hermione, and we're already drowning in AP chemistry!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air as if pleading with the universe.

Ms. Pince's glare intensified, and her brows knit in displeasure at Ginny's raised voice. The librarian's eyes tightened the longer she stared, her unnatural ability to enforce the rules with a stern look, causing Ginny’s shoulders to shiver with chills. 

Leaning closer to Hermione, Ginny lowered her voice to a whisper, "Who's bright idea was it to take AP Chemistry?” She growled, “I swear, I just wanna be a stupid cheerleader. That seems like it could be my true calling."

Hermione rolled her eyes with a hint of amusement as she paused her diligent note-taking. Reaching out over the table, she flicked Ginny's forehead with her fingers. "You need to stop being so dramatic, Ginerva," she chided, “You're the one who picked the class because you need it as a background to become a biomedical engineer.”

Fidgeting with the cheap mechanical pencil on the table, Ginny’s gaze remained firmly fixed on the surface, deliberately avoiding Hermione's stare. She mumbled reluctantly, "I suppose you might be right.” Her lips formed a stubborn pout, regret swirling within her as she mulled over her schedule.

Hermione threw her head back in a fit of laughter, her long, caramel curls bouncing against her back, as they threatened to escape the confines of their messy bun.

Ms. Pince shot up from behind the desk, her sharp voice slicing through the air like a knife, her eyes narrowing at the two girls. Her patience finally eroded as she bellowed, "OUT OF THE LIBRARY!" 

Ginny and Hermione pushed through the library's double doors, their laughter bouncing against the painted white cinder block-lined walls. They held their school books held tightly against their chests, weaving between classmates and down the corridors lined with green and white linoleum tiles.

Ginny turned to Hermione, her voice loud, no longer bound by the rules of the library, “So what are you gonna do for the rest of study hall now?”

Hermione paused, her honey eyes darting over the colorful flyers pinned to the bulletin board hanging over the row of lockers. Shaking her head free from her moment of distraction, she fiddled with her notebook, her brow furrowing in concentration as she leaned against her locker.

“I added Advanced Spanish I to my schedule, so I actually should be headed to that shortly.” She turned, grabbing the metal lock and spinning the black dial with two fingers. 

Ginny’s forehead crinkled in confusion, “Advanced? Hermione, that’s a Junior-level class! We’re only Sophomore’s, hello! Did you get a mix-up? Let me see that–” Ginny reached eagerly for her schedule, but Hermione ducked under her outstretched arm and twisted away.

“Get your grabby hands away!” Hermione exclaimed, a teasing shriek escaping her lips as she smacked her notebook against Ginny’s arm. “And no, I tested out of Intermediate Spanish over the summer. To be honest, I’m ready for the challenge. I’m aiming for college-level Spanish during our senior year.”

“Ooohhh!” Ginny cooed, check out my smart best friend!” Her grin widened as she rounded on Hermione, purposefully jabbing into her ribs. I’m so proud of you! We’ve raised such a clever girl!”

Turning to Ginny, Hermione swatted her hands away and huffed, giving her a deadpan look. “And exactly who are you talking to? And raising? What are you on about?”

Leaning against the lockers with a devilish grin, Ginny sighed. “Honestly? I have no idea. I think the first week of school is getting to me. Maybe I have schoolitis. Sophomoreitis. Some type of ittis. I might need to go home and sleep it off.” 

“You ain’t going anywhere until after cheer!” Lavender appeared, her voice sharp as a whip. Her hands were firmly placed on her hips, an arched eyebrow scrutinizing Ginny, leaned against the lockers with one foot resting on the wall.

“Hey, Lav, ignore Ginny. She’s clearly on another planet today,” Hermione said with an affectionate eye roll as she closed her locker with a clang. Catching a glimpse of the time, she flicked her wrist to check her watch. “Okay, I'm gonna head to class. It’s all the way on the third floor.”

“Oh, where are you off to? I thought we all have study hall right now?” Lavender mused, tilting her head as she sought Hermione’s gaze.

“I have Advanced Spanish I next. I didn’t wanna waste a whole block sitting in study hall,” Hermione replied.

Lavender clapped her hands together, a giddy squeal escaping her lips, “Oh my God! Tell me you have Señor Dreamy!”

“Señor Dreamy? Exactly who is that?” Hermione wondered, a bemused smile on her lips.

Ginny gestured dramatically, feigning shock. “You don’t know Señor Dreamy? Hemione! What a crime against humanity!”

“You shut up, Ginny. You’d be drooling over Señor Cortes if you took Spanish instead of French like the heathen you are.” Lavender shot back, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, actually, I do have Señor Cortes,” Hermione observed as she glanced over her schedule, peering under a colorful sticky note.

“Oh, Hermione, you’re in for a treat! You are soooo going to enjoy Spanish this semester!” Lavender exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious as she elongated her vowels, a devilish smile stretching across her face. 

She winked at Hermione, her fingers wiggling in excitement as the bell rang with a piercing clang, signaling the end of the period.

“Oh no! Shit, I’m going to be late!” Hermione whined, her eyes widened in sudden panic as she dashed toward the stairwell, hurrying away.

Hermione approached the classroom door, her heart racing from rushing as she knocked gently before pushing it open, slightly breathless. "Hi, sorry I'm late! I just added this class this morning, so I'm a bit out of sorts.” 

With an air of nervousness, she stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her. Hermione quickly tucked a rebellious curl behind her ear, her gaze darting toward the students seated in neat rows, searching for a familiar face amidst the sea of heads.

Senor Cortes cleared his throat from the front of the room, his voice drawing everyone's attention with ease. "Ah! You must be Ms. Hermione Granger!" His Spanish accent rolled charmingly over the final R, infusing her name with an exotic zeal.

He gestured grandly towards the front. “Please come and take a seat at an empty desk," he urged with an inviting smile, his warm demeanor easing her nerves. 

Suddenly, a head of familiar blonde hair shot up from the front row, jerking towards the door at the sound of her name. Abraxas Malfoy raised his hand enthusiastically, an unmistakable grin plastered on his face.

"Hermione! Up here!" He began packing away his notebooks, the soft rustle of paper and the clinking of pens filling the air. As he stood, he rapped his knuckles against the desk of his neighbor, Tom. "Take my seat! I know you love the front row,” He insisted, flashing her an encouraging smile as he slipped back two rows, sitting into a seat. 

Tom raised an eyebrow and mouthed, "What the fuck?" to Abraxas, who simply chuckled at his friend's incredulity and shot back a teasing wink and "Good luck" in response. 

"Oh, how kind of you, Mr. Malfoy! Ms. Granger, come, come!” Señor Cortes beamed at the exchange between them, proud and grateful to have supportive students. 

Blushing at the unexpected attention, Hermione made her way to the front and settled into Abraxas's former seat, the wood warm beneath her palms. She turned to Tom beside her, a small smile illuminating her face as she wiggled her fingers in a cheerful greeting of her sudden arrival.

Chapter Text

September 2006

The following Monday was Labor Day, a day off from school that offered Draco a pause from the monotony of his daily classes. He found himself grappling with the fatigue accompanying the abrupt shift from lazy days to early morning's with structured routines. Draco reveled in the thought of a day dedicated to relaxation, with his head burried under his duvet and blanket. He thought he had found a comfortable space to escape the world, where he could have easily slept for hours longer had the shrill ringtone of his phone not awakened him.

Groaning, he extracted only his arm from his bedroom cocoon, patting his side table with until he felt his phone. Draco raised his phone over his face, squinting one eye to shield from the glare from the screen. His eyes were still blurry from sleep but Draco was still able to read that his incoming caller was Hermione.  

His thumbs fumbled with unlocking the phone, and in a raspy voice he mumbled “Hey, Hermione.”

“Are you ready, Draco?"

Draco cracked open one eye, disoriented as he lifted himself on his elbows. His gaze drifted toward the voice, and his heart raced upon seeing Hermione framed in his doorway. Thinking she may be a dream, Draco blinked in disbelief, but there she was, in black fishnet stockings that hugged her bare legs, accentuating her figure. Her outfit was a skimpy twist on formal wear: a sleek black bodysuit that clung to her curves, adorned with satin lapels that gave the illusion of a traditional tuxedo. Underneath, the suggestion of a crisp white shirt with a daringly deep v-cut of the neckline added an enticing edge, drawing his attention to her cleavage. Hermione’s caramel curls were styled into pigtail buns at the base of her neck, and a sleek top hat was perched atop her head. Clutched in her hand was a vintage game show host microphone, long and slender, and she swung it playfully as the cord dangled from her grasp.

"Welcome, Draco, to your very own dating show!" Hermione announced, her voice ringing enthusiastically as she strode into the room on the balls of her feet, each step reminiscent of a model on a high-fashion runway. Her smile was a tantalizing invitation, and Draco noticed for the first time the carefully applied makeup that decorated her face, her lips painted a vivid red-the color of temptation. 

"You and your chosen contestants will participate in a series of questions, culminating in the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to select a date! Now, let's meet our lovely bunch!" She paused a mere few feet from his bed, spinning on her feet in a swirl of black and satin. Hermione directed her attention back toward the door with a flourish as she gestured animatedly, taking a deep bow as if she were unveiling something spectacular. 

The white oak door swung open on cue, revealing Ginny, who sashayed into the room. She was dressed in an eye-catching ensemble that could only be described as bridal lingerie, the delicate fabric clinging to her form and complemented by a lacy veil. The sheer quality of her attire left little to the imagination, the g-string undergarments drawing his gaze to Ginny’s bare ass. Draco felt an immediate prickle of unease, his instincts on high alert as he braced himself for the inevitable confrontation with Blaise. He feared his friend might barrel in at any moment, ready to throttle him for staring at his girlfriends ass. Sauntering gracefully by him, Ginny paused, bending at the waist to adjust her delicate garter belt, which held up her shimmering stockings. The soft light of the room caught the fabric, creating a subtle glow around her legs.

Draco, overwhelmed by the sight, dropped his head into his hands, a groan escaping his lips as he muttered, "What the actual hell." 

A melodic giggle escaped Ginny as she flounced towards a navy blue velvet chair. She dropped effortlessly into the seat, draping her long legs over the armrest, allowing her confident demeanor to shine as she slowly ran her fingers along her curves. She cast sidelong glances at Draco and behaved in a way that was strikingly out of character for her. Confusion swirled around him like a fog as Draco pulled himself to the edge of the bed. He slid his legs out from under the covers, planting his feet firmly on the floor, grounding himself in a reality that felt increasingly surreal. He anxiously tugged at his disheveled blonde hair, his confused fixed gaze on Hermione, as he averted his eyes from Ginny entirely. 

"Not that I, um, don't enjoy your...outfit, Hermione," he managed not to stutter, "But what exactly are you and Ginny doing? Blaise is going to kill me. Seriously. And where's my brother? How did you guys manage to walk around my house like that?" He shut his eyes, dragging both hands over his face in a desperate attempt to comprehend the chaotic scene. As he slowly opened his eyes, they landed on the imposing red throne next to Ginny, which somehow appeared in his room.

“Oh god, who's coming next?" Draco whined, his voice tinged with a rising panic.

"Welcome, contestant number two!"

The door swung open again, revealing Ms. Zabini, whose stunning dark skin radiated under the light like polished obsidian. She glided into the room, adorned in gown that appeared almost liquid in its fit, clinging to her curves with slits that reached daringly high up to her hips. She wore an extravagant crown atop her head, its chrome spikes jutting high into the air, and defying gravity with its heavy appearance. Draco felt his throat constrict as he gulped, pulling the duvet over his lap to shield his sudden errection. His heart raced, and warmth crept across his chest at the sight of his best friend's mother entering his bedroom in the least amount of clothing he had ever seen her wear.

"Hello, Draco," she purred, her voice sultry and inviting, fingers pressed to her lips as she blew him a soft kiss. Instantly, his face ignited in a deep crimson hue, a blend of embarrassment and unexpected intrigue flooding his senses.

"Drum roll, please!” Hermione's voice boomed into the microphone, “I present to you, last but not least!" 

The next moment, Theo appeared, a prong collar snug around his neck and a leather leash trailing behind him like an afterthought. He was shirtless, with toned muscles on display and wearing only a pair of black briefs. Golden retriever paw mittens covered his hands, floppy ears cleverly clipped into his brown hair, and a dog tail protruded from the back of his waistband. He shuffled on all fours to an oversized dog bed that had mysteriously materialized beside Ms. Zabini's chair. Rising to his knees, Theo pulled his hands up to his chest, wiggling his body back and forth, panting as he embraced the ludicrousness of the moment. His grin spread across his face was so wide and exuberant that it bordered on the absurd. Draco sprang from his bed, the duvet cascading to the floor in a heap, no longer worried about covering his bulge.

"What the hell is this shit?" he exclaimed, disbelief etched across his face.

Hermione simply shrugged, closing the bedroom door with a decisive click. She twirled the microphone with a flair, a mischievous grin dancing on her lips as she made her way back to Draco. Without missing a beat, she flung her arm around Draco's shoulders. "I don’t know, babe. I just work here," she breathed, leaning in to lick his cheek. Her laughter echoed in the room. "Let the games begin!" she declared.

Holding a stack of brightly colored index cards, Hermione cleared her throat, her voice loud with eagerness as she turned to the three newcomers lounging in the cozy confines of Draco's room. "Alright, contestants! It's time for our first round of questions!" She lowered her cards, sending an exaggerated wink towards the contestants, her expression twisting into a playful grimace that made everyone chuckle. "Now remember, honesty is key! You'll want to leave this bedroom with a date by the end of the game," She punctuated her statement with a flamboyant gesture, casting a glance around the room as if the very walls were spectators.

“First question: If you were a villain, what name would you choose?" Hermione asked, a grin dancing on her lips.

Draco glanced over his shoulder to find that his bed had vanished, replaced by a bright plastic orange chair that seemed almost comically out of place—it creaked under the weight of his presence. He scooped up his duvet from where it had fallen on the floor, draping it over his shoulders like a makeshift cape. Rubbing absently at his chest, he contemplated the question before responding, "I guess... the Dragon?" he finally replied, a hint of uncertainty lurking in his tone.

Ginny laughed sharply, slapping her palm against her thigh in disbelief. "Oh, that's so lame! That's practically just your name, Draco! Where's the originality in that?" Her voice was laced with a teasing incredulity, her eyes rolling dramatically as she shook her head.

Ms. Zabini crossed one leg over the other, the movement revealing the smooth expanse of her thigh, accentuated by the daring hip-high slit in her form-fitting dress that seemed almost to cascade to the floor. With a finger poised delicately against her lips, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she mused, "I don't know, Ginny. I think it sounds rather…enticing."

Meanwhile, Theo lay sprawled on his back, his knees bent and legs positioned parallel to the floor as he playfully emulated a dog. Embracing the absurdity of his costume, he hung his paws in the air. “I dig it, Draco. We could form a villain team! Can I be the Viper?" He proposed, lightly panting for emphasis.

Hermione shifted to the next card. "How often do you get excited?"

Ginny erupted in laughter again, shaking her head incredulously. "Let's get real here! He's a teenage boy! The answer is all the time."

Ms. Zabini nodded along, flicking her long micro braids over her shoulder,  "I must agree with Ginny on this point —" she said, her expressive voice captivating, "—let me turn this question around with one of my own.”

She turned her gaze toward Draco, her dark brown irises sparkling mysteriously in the warm glow of the soft bedroom lights. "If you could choose anyone to be trapped in a hotel with, who would you pick?"

Without hesitation, Draco responded, his answer slipping effortlessly from his lips, "Angelina Jolie." He tightened the duvet around himself as if hoping to disappear into its folds while feeling a flush creeping to the tips of his ears.

Both Ginny and Ms. Zabini crossed their arms in unison, nodding slowly with knowing smiles. "See what I mean?" Ginny gestured toward Draco with an open palm, her voice teasingly accusatory. "Always excited." 

"What book are you reading these days?" Hermione inquired, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she read from her index card. 

Straightening in his seat, Draco hesitated, biting his lower lip as thoughts scrambled in his mind. "Uh, the joke book about Chuck Norris?" he finally replied, his tone almost sheepish.

“Are you really answering a question with a question?" Ginny shot back, her eyes wide, a playful smirk forming at the corners of her mouth.

Hermione, poised with confidence, popped her hip out as she crossed an arm over her midriff, a gesture of mild disappointment etched on her features. Clicking her tongue, she tilted her head at Draco as if gently reprimanding him. "Draco, I know you can do better than that," she challenged, her voice a firm yet playful lilt.

Now sprawled on his side, Theo propped his head up on his elbow, his other hand languidly swinging his tail rhythmically. "I think I flipped through a Playboy the other day-Draco, didn't I let you borrow it?" Theo interjected casually, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Who was your first crush?" Hermione continued, her tone playfully probing.

At that moment, Draco's gaze darted to Hermione. His lips parted as if ready to spill a secret, but silence reigned as the words seemed to catch in his throat. 

"Aw, look at him! I can tell we're making him nervous," Ms. Zabini said with a smirk, placing a hand on Ginny's arm and giving it a gentle pat, her voice warm yet teasing.

"I think it's more like we're embarrassing him," Ginny chimed in, a bright grin illuminating her face as she leaned back in her chair, clearly enjoying the banter.

In a burst of pure chaos, Theo stuck his rear end high in the air, shaking it with ridiculous enthusiasm, wagging a fake tail, and making over-the-top barking noises. 

Hermione, thoroughly unimpressed, rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh, though a small smile tugged at her lips despite her best efforts to remain stoic. 

She looked down, her fingers grazing the surface of the cue card as Hermione carefully read out, "Where would you take us on our first date?"

Draco cast a fleeting look out the window as if searching for inspiration while his mind raced for an answer. He turned back to face the odd mix of contestants assembled in the room, his shoulders slouching in defeat. Draco’s voice faltered, uncertainty creeping into his tone, "Um, I don't know... I've never actually been on a date before. I don't think I can actually think of something on the spot."

His words trailed off, grey eyes darting away from the guests before landing on Hermione momentarily. Draco shifted his gaze from Hermione to the floor, a flush creeping up his cheeks. “I guess it would depend on the person and how well I knew them–”

“Seriously, Draco?" Ginny interjected, a unbelieving look settling on her face. "It's not rocket science! It’s a first date– it’s all about getting to know each other! It doesn’t have to be that complicated when you’re dating new people.” A sneer played on her lips as she continued, “Alright, let’s try this then–what’s the best way to ask someone out?”

Draco blinked in stunned silence, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he realized that he had no idea how to answer this seemingly simple yet daunting question, either. The murmur of the contestants swirled around him, voices overlapping as they began ribbing him about his inexperience. They had not signed up for a dating game show to find themselves entertained by someone who had never ventured into the realm of dating and was now struggling to answer simple questions about romance.

Theo, unable to contain himself, burst into laughter. "I didn't even sign up! I just came here to pretend I'm a dog!" He joked, wagging his clipped-on tail. His light-hearted remark brought some levity to the situation, but Ginny and Ms. Zabini were already honing in on Draco, ready to bombard him with a flurry of questions.

With a renewed focus on Draco, Ginny and Ms. Zabini, both determined to extract some form of insight, bombarded him with questions.

"Okay, Draco, do you even know if you've ever done anything remotely romantic?" Ms. Zabini asked, arching an eyebrow as she awaited his response.

“Wait!” Ginny sprang from the seat, her gaze locking onto Draco's, piercing through the nervous energy. "This might be the most serious question we should ask–how important is sexual compatibility to you?"

Draco's breath caught in his throat. He froze, wide-eyed and flustered. Stammering, "Sexual compatibility? I haven't had sex yet! I can't answer any of these questions!" In a moment of frustration, he surged to his feet, the duvet slipping from his grasp and pooling on the floor around him like a discarded cloak. 

Just then, Ginny raised her voice in protest, her frustration directed at Hermione, "This is absurd! Draco has absolutely no experience whatsoever! What kind of dating show is this?"

Ms. Zabini shook her head in sympathy, her lips curling into a soft smile as she tsked. "Poor, poor baby. You have no idea what you're doing out there, do you?" With a playful glance to her right, she picked up Theo's leash with a gentle tug, eliciting an enthusiastic response. "What do you have to say, puppy?" 

Theo's eyes widened in feigned innocence as he looked up at Ms. Zabini, a grin spreading across his face. In a low and hopeful voice, he asked, "Can I be a good boy?" 

Ms. Zabini reclined comfortably on the ornate throne, a sultry smile curling her lips as she purred, "Of course you can." She lightly patted her thighs with a graceful gesture, inviting Theo to rise from the floor. Rising to his feet, Theo found himself gazing down at her, his posture shifting as he widened his stance. With a fluid motion, he settled onto her lap, straddling her legs as he placed both hands on the back of the throne. Before Draco was able to voice his confusion, Theo grabbed Ms. Zabini by the back of her neck, pulling her closer to devour her lips.

“Ugh, what the hell!" Draco exclaimed, his voice a mixture of disbelief and revulsion. His face twisted in a grimace, eyes wide as he struggled to comprehend the scene unfolding before him, yet he could not tear his gaze away.

"Well, I don't want to be left out!" Ginny replied, her voice playful, as she squirmed halfway down her chair, excitement bubbling in her demeanor. Her eyebrows danced up and down mischievously as she said, "Hey Hermione, come! I’ve got a seat for you right here on my face!” She drew her fingers to her mouth and tapped her lips as she smirked. Whipping his head sharply in Hermione's direction, he watched her shrug nonchalantly as she let her cue cards flutter down to the floor, the microphone clattering beside them. She walked over to Ginny with purposeful strides, leaving a trail of stunned silence in her wake. 

"Wait! Hermione! You can't do that?" Draco exclaimed, panic tightening his voice. "This is really getting out of control." As Hermione approached Ginny, she gently placed her hand on the back of the chair, her fingers brushing against the worn fabric as she lifted her knee, subtly shifting her weight.

Suddenly, a series of heavy thuds echoed through the corridors, shattering the quiet.

Opening his eyes, Draco squinted against the late morning sun filtering through the curtains, suddenly aware that he was still cocooned in his duvet, surrounded by its warmth. The muffled shouts of Abraxas reverberated from the hallway, calling out and pulling him from the comfortable haze of sleep.  

"Hermione's in the kitchen, chatting away with Mom! Get your lazy ass out of bed!" The demand was punctuated by another forceful knock on the door but soon fell into a thick silence.

Draco lifted himself from bed and glanced at his phone, squinting at the bright screen as he wiped the drool from his mouth with the back of his hand. Rubbing the lingering fatigue from his eyes with a clenched fist, he muttered to himself, "Weirdest fucking dream of my life.”

Chapter Text

September 2006

Draco shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his faded jeans as he wandered through the Hogsmeade Mall, flanked by Blaise and Theo. They exchanged banter, their laughter mingling with the vibrant sounds of shoppers, distant music, and the sweet scent of cinnamon pretzels wafting from a nearby stand. To their right, the glass displays of Littman Jewelers caught their attention. 

Blaise nodded toward the shop. "What about there?"

“What?" Draco let out a loud chortle, a faint pink blooming at the tips of his ears. "Jewelry?  Are you out of your mind? That's what you get for your girlfriend! Hermione is not my girlfriend!” He shook his head vehemently as if to rid himself of the absurd idea.

"Technically, she is your girl... friend," Theo teased, nudging Draco with his elbow.

Draco responded with a swift slap to the back of Theo's head.

"Ow!" Theo winced, rubbing the back of his head. “Why don't you just get her, uh, I don't know, a shirt?" Theo suggested, his fingers raking through his unruly curls as they paused in front of Hot Topic, where the walls were decorated with band shirts and the air smelled of incense.

Draco replied with an arch of his brow and a deadpan stare, "Really, Theo? I should go get Hermione a shirt?" He thrust his arm out, his open palm toward the alternative storefront. "Does it look like she’s ever set foot in a place like that?"

With a reassuring clap on Draco's shoulder, Blaise tugged him closer. "Relax, buddy. Theo wasn't really suggesting you buy Hermione one of Luna's crazy outfits," he said, eyeing Theo with a hint of caution, “Just chill for a minute.”

Blaise shifted his focus back to Draco, who crossed his arms, his pout resembling a moody teenager throwing a temper tantrum. Blaise stole a quick glance at Theo, who rolled his eyes in frustration. 

"What are you getting all bent out of shape for?" Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow. "If she's your best friend, why are you even asking us for suggestions?" He shrugged, "Apparently, you know her best."

Draco shook his head adamantly. "Of course, I know her best. I'm just—I'm just frustrated,” he admitted, dragging a hand through his hair exasperatedly.

Theo and Blaise exchanged glances as Draco began to pace. 

"It's just that I feel all this pressure. We have that huge game against the Cavaliers on Wednesday. School is a nonstop headache, and I usually have Hermione's gift sorted by now, but I want it to be... better than normal.” He finally stopped to look up, his expression momentarily softening. "You know, like... something special?"

Instantly, a spark of mischief lit up Theo's eyes. "Ohh, I get it, Draco, my boy." He sidled up to Draco, slinging an arm around his shoulders and giving him a playful nudge. "You think Hermione is 'special’." He elongated the last word just enough to provoke a great deal of irritation from Draco, who promptly shrugged Theo off, his glare icy enough to freeze.

“Buzz off, would you? Stop making fun of me. I just don't wanna get her something stupid," Draco retorted.

“Why not just buy her some perfume? It's what I got Ginny last month for her birthday," Blaise interjected, his tone light.

"Perfume? I'm not about to buy her perfume!" Draco spun around in annoyance. "Ugh, you guys are both utterly useless right now. I'm going to figure this out on my own." With that, he stormed off, leaving his friends in his wake. 

Blaise leaned in closer to Theo, his eyes widening in amusement. "Do you think he knows what's going on in his head?"

Theo snorted, "Blaise, you're asking about Draco."

Blaise broke into a hearty laugh. "You're right. He's completely lost. Let's head to the food court while he figures this out." The two friends left in search of snacks, leaving Draco to navigate his tangled emotions alone.

"So, you can't find what you need?"

A melodic female voice drifted through the air, pulling Draco's gaze to his right. A colorful kiosk was brimming with vibrant glass beads, reflecting hues that danced in the light. Intricately shaped gemstones sparkled amid a collection of polished crystals, each carefully placed on stands that showcased their natural beauty.

Behind the glass display, a woman sat with her head bent over her craft, skilled hands manipulating strands of gold wire and shimmering chains, a scattering of radiant gems spread across a soft, worn cloth beside her.

Draco stopped in the middle of the walkway, causing shoppers to jostle against him as they maneuvered around. With a puzzled expression etched on his face, he turned his head from side to side before calling out, "Are you talking to me?"

The woman paused her work, lifting her gaze with an amused smirk dancing across her warm features. She casually flipped her long blonde braid over one shoulder and straightened her posture, dropping her tools with a soft clink. She crossed her arms, her thin, pale brow arched in a challenge. "Yes, I am, young man. Now, come over here."

Draco was skeptical, but he was compelled to heed her invitation. What did he have to lose, after all? With resolve, he stepped closer, leaning both elbows on the cool glass display, his eyebrows rising as he peered closer at the artistry. "What are you making?"

She smacked his elbows away, a feigned look of sternness on her face. "Arms off!" she scolded. Draco opened his mouth to protest, clutching his arm slightly, but she wagged a finger at him.

"Nuh-uh. I saw what you did to your friend over there." She pointed toward Hot Topic, and he lowered his head in embarrassment.

"That's what I thought," she added, a touch of satisfaction coloring her voice. Returning to her task, she began to meticulously unspool a length of gold chain, her striking blue eyes locking onto his, an intensity in her gaze.

"And to answer your question, I'm making your special gift," she continued, the corners of her mouth curving upward. "Now, tell me about her.”

The dining room was filled with the familiar melody of "Happy Birthday” as Hermione's parents and Draco sang out the final note of the tune, their voices weaving together in harmony. With a radiant smile, her mother gently set a luscious red velvet birthday cake adorned with sixteen flickering candles in the center of the table. Hermione raised her gaze, meeting Draco's striking grey eyes, and a tender smile blossomed on her lips.

"Close your eyes and make a wish, honey," her father urged affectionately.

Hermione obediently fluttered her eyes closed, pushing aside the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind. In that stillness, only one image persisted- the captivating grey of Draco's eyes. 

With a deep, steadying breath that seemed to fill her very being, she formed her lips into a perfect circle and blew out the candles, sending wisps of smoke spiraling toward the ceiling. As she opened her eyes, she was greeted by clapping from her parents and Draco, their faces illuminated with smiles that warmed the room. 

Her mother placed a hand on Hermione's head, almost as if she were tenderly petting her, then tugged Hermione closer, resting her head snugly against her belly. "Oh, my baby is growing up so fast! I don't know if I can take it!" she exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion. 

“Oh, Helen, give our girl some breathing room," her father chuckled, waving as he attempted to draw his wife's attention back to him. "Before we cut the cake, I want to whip up some coffee—decaf, of course. Are there any takers?"

Draco and Hermione shook their heads in unison, and David shrugged in defeat before disappearing into the kitchen.

As her mother released her gentle hold, she followed her husband into the kitchen. In their newfound solitude, Draco pulled out a chair next to Hermione. Leaning in closer, Hermione cast a sidelong glance at Draco, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Grasping his hand beneath the table, she cleared her throat lightly, her voice soft and sincere. 

"Thanks for coming over for my birthday dinner. I know we do the same thing every year," she rolled her eyes mockingly, a light huff escaping her, “but it truly means a lot to me. And, of course, to my parents."

With a soft smile, Draco tightened his fingers around hers. "Of course, Hermione. We're best friends; I'm always gonna be here. Besides, I can't pass up your mom's cake-it's probably the main reason I show up every year," he replied, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Hermione pushed Draco in the chest with a playful nudge, and laughter filled the space between them. Suddenly, she noticed a flicker of nervous energy in Draco as he began to bounce his knee. 

Concern knotted her brow, and she tilted her head slightly. "Are you okay?"

With a grimace, Draco pressed his palms against the table, leaning forward slightly to peer into the doorway, ensuring Hermione's parents were preoccupied in the kitchen. When he confirmed they were still busy, he turned back to Hermione. His face was alight with a mix of nerves and excitement. 

Draco leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "Yeah, nothing's wrong," he assured her, though a hint of something unspoken lingered in his eyes.

"So then what-"

Her words were cut off as Draco stood abruptly, pulling a small, navy velvet pouch from his pocket and placing it carefully in front of her. Hermione arched an eyebrow, her heart fluttering as she gently pressed her fingers against her chest, silently questioning if this gift was truly meant for her.

"Yes, yes, Hermione, of course, it's for you," he chuckled, urgency creeping into his voice as he nodded his chin towards the pouch. “Please open it before I really start losing my nerves and my body starts bouncing instead of just my knee."

Hermione carefully opened the pouch and drew a small, elegantly decorated box. As she lifted the lid, her breath hitched in her throat upon revealing a stunning necklace. Gasping softly, Hermione looked up at Draco, her wide eyes reflecting a mix of astonishment and joy. 

The raw gemstones hanging from the delicate gold chain sparkled intriguingly, and with reverence, she traced the contours of a raw sapphire and moonstone—her and Draco's birthstones— encased in a twist of gleaming gold wire.

"Where did you get this?" she breathed, her heart swelling as she looked up into Draco's deep grey eyes. 

Draco stood behind her, lifting the necklace from its confines. Gently, he placed it around her neck, their proximity charging the air with a potent mix of emotions. As she gathered her long curls into one hand, he draped the necklace around her neck, his fingers brushing against her skin as he clasped it. Draco settled back into his chair, his gaze unwavering. 

"I had it made especially for you," he said softly, his voice rich with sincerity.

Chapter Text

September 2006

The lacrosse game against their long-standing rivals, the Cavaliers, unfolded like a tightly wound thriller. The Trojans burst out of the gate with fervor, netting the first four goals in quick succession before the other team could even catch their breath. 

A palpable sense of anticipation buzzed among the players, the first quarter hinting at a rapid and high-scoring battle. However, the Cavaliers, not to be outdone, swiftly regained their composure and adjusted their strategy, fighting back to tie the game at 8-8 by the end of the first half.

Draco yanked off his helmet as the third quarter came to a close, shaking out his damp hair, moisture glistening on his forehead. With a heavy sigh, he leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. His eyes darted to the scoreboard, the large, glaring numbers-17-15-looming above him like a constant reminder that the Cavaliers were nipping at their heels.

His gaze drifted across the field to where Hermione stood with the cheer squad, her energy bright and infectious under the stadium lights. Spotting him, she flashed a radiant smile, shaking her pom-poms with enthusiasm that seemed to light up the chilly evening air. Her lips formed the words "kick their asses," accompanied by a cheeky wink, before she turned to engage Lavender in animated conversation. 

Amused, Draco couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head at her spirited encouragement as the referee's sharp whistle cut through the air, signaling the start of the final quarter.

The atmosphere in the locker room buzzed with post-match adrenaline as Draco's teammates filtered out one by one, their voices a mix of triumphant cheers, taunts directed at the Cavaliers, and chatter filled with raw excitement over their hard-fought victory, 22- 18. 

Draco lingered by his locker even as the room emptied, a smile dancing on his lips as he patiently awaited the arrival of a special visitor, a hunch stirring within him that he wasn't done celebrating just yet.

Hermione pushed him against the cold metal lockers with a thud. Her fingers slid from his shoulders, exploring the contours of his chest. She felt the rapid thump of his heartbeat beneath her palms. 

As she held his gaze, she watched the pupils in his stormy gray eyes slowly dilate, transforming the silver flecks that usually danced within them into expansive pools of darkness. Draco's eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch in her throat. A devilish smirk crept across his lips, sending a thrill racing down her spine. 

His hands moved to her waist, fingertips brushing against the strip of skin just above her green cheer skirt. Draco squeezed her hips firmly before he began to toy with the waistband.

Balancing delicately on the tips of her white Nikes, Hermione leaned in slightly, rising just enough to draw her lips tantalizingly close to Draco's. With a playful whisper, she breathed, "I think we should celebrate your win tonight, big guy." She caught his lower lip between her teeth, a subtle gesture that she hoped portrayed her intentions. 

Draco let out a low, amused chuckle at the nickname. His hands slid slowly down from her hips, fingers grazing her skin with an electric touch. His fingers grazed across Hermione's ass, the smooth surface of the polyester fabric catching slightly under his touch. His palms pressed against each cheek, grabbing and pulling her close, knowing Hermione could feel how hard he was. Still high from adrenaline, he growled, “Mmhmm, yeah?” as he ground his hips against hers, “What do you have in mind, Hermione?”

She peered beneath the soft veil of her dark lashes, a hint of vulnerability and allure in her gaze.

Hermione slowly arched her back, accentuating the swell of her figure as she pressed herself against him, intensifying the warmth between them. She tilted her head ever so slightly, lips brushing against his ear as she murmured in a low, enticing whisper, "Do you trust me, Draco?" 

Her words caressed his ear with a tantalizing thrill, and the small hairs on his neck stood straight up. The sensation ignited a rush of more blood down south, leaving him feeling lightheaded. As he indulged with another firm squeeze to the curves of her ass, he found the breath to reply, his voice thick with longing, "More than anything, you know—"

Before he could complete his sentence, Hermione sank abruptly to the floor, the chill of the cold linoleum tiles biting into her knees. The buzz of muffled chatter from the hallway faded into the background, leaving them alone with the echo of his unfinished words. 

Draco's eyes widened as he watched Hermione, her fingers deftly unfastening the button of his jeans, pulling down his zipper with an almost teasing slowness. She palmed his erection through his briefs, grinning confidently as she looked up at him. 

Hermione slipped her fingers under the band of his black briefs, yanking them down along with his jeans as they both bunched around his knees. His dick jumped out, facing Hermione at eye level. Draco was rock hard, precum leaking from the tip, and ready for whatever she would give him.

Hermione's bold facade faded, replaced by a look of uncertainty as her gaze remained locked on his dick. She swallowed hard, and with hesitant movements, she rubbed her hands along her thighs. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she cleared her throat, finally meeting Draco's stare, her eyes searching for his understanding. 

“This is my first time, so I might not be any good.” Hermione looked down to stare straight at his dick again, licking her suddenly dry lips, flicking her gaze back up at him, “But I wanna taste you.”

Draco dropped his head against the lockers, the thud loud in the otherwise quiet team room. He squeezed his eyes shut, and a sigh escaped his lips. "Damn it, fuck," he rasped, the words laced with desire. He heard the soft shuffle of her knees against the floor. 

It was the gentle caress of her lips he felt first, smooth and tentative, as they placed delicate kisses inside his left thigh. Each warm touch sent electric shudders through him.“Shit, Hermione,” he felt his dick twitch in response to her, and he opened his eyes, looking down at her.

Draco pressed his palm firmly against his chest, his fingers curling into a tight fist over his heart. He rubbed soothing circles into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to quell the rapid thudding within. He watched as Hermione parted her lips. Her pink tongue rolled out as she got closer to Draco and licked a long, wet stripe up the shaft of his dick. “Oh God,” he moaned as his body relaxed against the lockers. 

Hermione glanced up at Draco, noticing a soft, almost hazy expression over his features as if he were caught in a dream. Encouraged by the subtle change in his demeanor, Hermione felt braver. 

Reaching to grasp Draco at the base, she licked him at the tip, the salty taste of him familiar. She twisted her wrist, palming his erection just like he taught her, and without another thought, Hermione opened her mouth as wide as she could and took Draco in. 

Immediately, Draco’s fingers wove into the soft curls of Hermione’s hair, cradling the sides of her head. He was momentarily speechless, overwhelmed by their connection. All he could manage was to stammer. “Wow, this is just… insane,” the words tumbled out in awe. 

Hermione hollowed out her cheeks and moved up and down, her tongue licking up his side as he slid inside her warm mouth, her hand twisting at the base where she couldn't reach. Feeling a sense of pure bliss and relaxation, his fingers seemed to move on their own as they gently navigated through Hermione’s hair, massaging her scalp as she pleasured him with her mouth. 

The caress of his fingers left a trail of comfort, making her sigh and hum around him in response. The vibrations Draco felt made him fist reflexively at her curls, bucking deeper into her mouth as he released a loud moan. Hermione gagged around him as he hit the back of her throat. 

“Shit! Sorry, sorry!” Draco rushed out, trying to move himself away from Hermione, but she shook her head as she tightened her grip on the back of his thighs, her fingers biting into the muscle. Eager to please him, she continued to draw him in, her lips tightening every few strokes, flicking her tongue around him. 

“Ugh—yeah. Suck me harder,” Draco moaned. “Please, baby, please.” He begged, his eyelids fluttering as he experienced ecstasy. Delicately, he let his fingers weave through Hermione’s hair, moving with a tenderness that almost resembled someone gently petting an animal. 

“Keep going.” Draco slowly shifted his gaze, the weight of his stare settling on Hermione. His eyes, half-lidded and shimmering with lust, appeared dreamlike as if he were caught in a trance.

He removed a hand from her hair, his fingers trailing down her cheek and cupping her jaw, his thumb brushing over and pulling down her bottom lip. Hermione continued to suck him, never taking her eyes off Draco as he slowly thrust into her.

“That—baby, that feels so good.” Draco finally let go of her hair and face, his hands moving to clasp together on his head. He was panting heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and a flush crept across his cheeks. The tips of his ears wore a delicate shade of pink, a striking contrast to his usually pale complexion. 

With a voice roughened by exertion, he rasped out, “I’m gonna cum soon if you don’t stop. Tap my leg if you want me to move.” He implored, his eyes ablaze with a fiery desperation, silently begging, hoping she didn't.

Hermione took that as her signal to work her mouth even faster, eagerly moving along his length. Before he could even blink, Draco finished in Hermione’s mouth as he pumped a few more spurts, emptying out. She slid her mouth off him with a pop, licking the remnants of his cum off the head of his dick and swallowing, using the back of her hand to wipe her mouth. 

Draco stood stunned, staring at her lips, shiny, wet, and swollen from the out-of-body experience she had just given him. He was utterly in awe of Hermione as he came down from his high. 

Hermione gazed at him intently, a flutter of shyness washing over her as the silence stretched between them, her anxiety rising. The warmth of the room felt almost stifling, and she could feel her cheeks flush under his steady gaze. After a moment, she cleared her throat nervously, the sound breaking the quiet between them.

"So, um..how was that for the first time?" she dared, her voice slightly rising in volume at the end. 

Breaking free from his haze, Draco dropped to the floor, tenderly cupping her head between his hands, his fingers slowly stroking her cheeks. Slowly shaking his head, some of his blonde hair falling forward with the movement, “Fucking phenomenal, Hermione.” And he leaned in to kiss her lightly, pulling away to whisper, “That was the best.” 

He crashed his mouth back to hers, their lips moving against each other as if in a heated battle, his tongue teasing along the seam of her lips and gaining entrance, tasting the saltiness of himself in her mouth, and moaning. 

Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco, pulling him in tightly. Her fingers danced through the soft, fine strands of hair at the nape of his neck, relishing the warmth of his skin beneath her touch. Draco pressed his lips against hers, slowly peppering kisses along her jaw, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she remembered he had called her "baby" not once but twice. 

The endearment made her heart race, and she savored the sweetness of their kisses as he moved his mouth back to hers, and their lips moved slowly as they deepened, the kissing no less intense as the passion between them still lingered.

Chapter Text

September 2006

As the final bell rang, Hermione slung her worn Jansport backpack over her shoulder with relief. She slammed her locker shut with a clang and rapidly spun the lock dial. She bent down and swiped her metal water bottle off the floor. Her gaze inadvertently drifted toward Draco's locker, the familiar pull urging her attention.

Hermione slumped against her locker, her arms crossing instinctively over her chest as her eyes remained fixed on the scene before her. The pounding of her heart echoed loudly in her ears; she hardly noticed when Ginny slipped next to her, concern clear in her gaze.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you look like you're jealous," Ginny announced, trying to break Hermione free from her trance. Her voice was light and teasing. She stepped closer, her expression shifting to intrigue as she followed Hermione's gaze. "What are we looking at?"

Hermione jut her chin out, quiet in her unease as she observed Draco. She tilted her head slightly, a flash of concern crossing Hermione’s features. "Since when is Pansy friends with Draco?"

Ginny leaned forward, her eyes scanning the scene with keen interest. Together, they watched intently as Draco stood by his locker, the air of easy confidence radiating from him. He was nonchalant yet undeniably encouraging a conversation with Pansy, as she animatedly gestured before him. 

Hermione's stomach twisted as she watched Pansy daintily place her hand on Draco's arm, the touch lingering. Her too-loud laugh carried through the hallway noise as she tossed her head back. 

The way Draco smirked in response sent a jolt of irritation through Hermione; the return flirtation was as unmistakable as it was infuriating.

With a grimace twisting her lips, Ginny turned to meet Hermione's eyes, her voice low and knowing. “I don't think she's trying to be his friend, Hermione.”

Feeling a surge of conflicting emotions, Hermione deliberately left Ginny as she navigated the busy hallway toward her best friend and Pansy.  

As she glided closer to Draco, she tried to break into the conversation, requesting attention as she waved with a timid smile. "Hey, Draco. Pansy," she greeted, her arm dropping self-consciously to her side. Hermione’s fingers found the hem of her plaid skirt, a nervous habit as she began to fidget.

Pansy tossed the glossy locks of her straight black hair over her shoulder in a way that felt almost dismissive to Hermione. Her sharp, dark eyes swept over Hermione, assessing her with a pointed gaze before she replied with an airy tone, "Oh, hello. I was just leaving." 

Before Pansy turned to walk away, she glanced at Draco, the corners of her mouth lifting into a sly smile. "See you tonight, Draco." The echo of her chunky black heels reverberated against the linoleum floor, each click a taunt as she sauntered down the hallway.

Taking the spot Pansy had just vacated, Hermione leaned against the locker opposite Draco's as he finished packing his bag. With a swift motion, he slammed his locker shut and spun the combination lock, throwing his backpack over one shoulder like an afterthought. 

When his gaze dropped down to Hermione, she raised an eyebrow and asked cautiously, “Tonight?”  

A brief flash of guilt flashed across Draco’s features. He leaned his forearm against the cool metal and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. Draco’s usually grey eyes, now stormy, slowly drifted toward the ceiling as if searching for the right words.

“Yeah, uh, Pansy actually invited me to the movies tonight. I think we're gonna go with two of her friends." As he spoke, Hermione could feel her heart plummet, the smile on her face dimming despite her best efforts to act cool.

Hermione's attention dropped to their feet, and she lightly nudged the tip of her shoe against his boot. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth but maintained a steady gaze, asking softly, "Since when are you friends with Pansy?” 

"She's in my French class," Draco replied with an amusing grin. "Would you believe I never noticed her until she congratulated me for our winning game on Wednesday?" 

Feeling unsettled, Hermione placed her hand  on his forearm, her brow furrowing as she pressed on, "So you're just going to hang out with someone you barely know?"

Draco laughed lightly, dropping his arm from the locker. He took hold of Hermione and tucked her against his side, affectionately draping his arm over her shoulders. 

"Isn't that how you get to know someone, Hermione? Don't worry; it's not like she's going to kidnap me or anything." Draco joked as he guided them toward the exit, his playful demeanor easing the tension that threatened the air between them.

Draco pushed the metal door open and Hermione ducked beneath his arm." I figured you wouldn't mind. We didn't have any solid plans, after all,” he continued, “We'd just hang out with my brother and his friends, watching corny movies.”

She released a strained chuckle, attempting to appear nonbothered. "Right. It's not a big deal." 

“See? I knew you'd understand. That's why we're best friends." Draco called over his shoulder with a sly smile as he strode ahead of Hermione. She lagged behind, her steps slow and hesitant as a storm of envy and resentment brewed inside her.

"Come on, we don't have any practice! Stop lingering,” His voice pulled her back into the present as she hurried to catch up, uncertainty still shadowing her heart.

Hermione sat on her bed, her small frame nearly folded in half as she rested her chin atop her knees, deeply engrossed in her well-loved copy of Hamlet. Her once-neat curls had surrendered to chaos, a wild mess only partially tamed by a scrunchie.

The angsty songs of the Alanis Morissette Collection played in the background, reflecting the melancholy mood she was in. Hermione brought a finger to her lips with a soft sigh, moistening the tip with her tongue before carefully flipping to the next page.

The muffled sound of someone knocking at the front door broke her concentration. Her mother's voice drifted in from the hall, "Just a moment!" as she hurried past Hermione's bedroom and into the front entrance.

Resuming her reading, Hermione was quickly interrupted by a deliberate throat-clear. She looked up and gasped in surprise. "Holy shit," Hermione whispered, clutching her chest as the book slipped from her hands.

Abraxas was leaning against the door frame, his posture relaxed. One ankle crossed over the other as he regarded her curiously. His gaze drifted over to her copy of Hamlet, an amused smirk dancing across his lips before he met her eyes again. 

"Existentialism and madness on a Friday night?" he mused, tilting his head toward her record player. “Ah, and the music—how fitting."

Feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment, Hermione scowled and leaned over her bed. She grabbed her UGG slipper and hurled it at his head in annoyance. His laughter rang out as he ducked, and her slipper hit the door.

"You missed, brat," he teased, inching closer to her bed and leaning his forearms against the footboard.

Hugging a blanket around her, Hermione stretched her legs out, wiggling her toes with a hint of nervous energy. She arched an eyebrow at him, "Well? What are you doing here?" she demanded.

Abraxas flashed a grin, straightening up as he walked around the bed toward Hermione. He reached for her hands, his fingers warm against her skin. "I'm here to pick you up, of course. You're missing movie night," he declared, gently pulling her to her feet. The blanket slid off her shoulders, forming a soft heap on her comforter.

Standing mere inches apart, Hermione looked up into Abraxas's eyes, the stormy grey color strikingly resembling his brother's. She dropped her gaze to the floor and muttered, "Well, Draco isn't there and-"

Before she could finish, Abraxas grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head to meet his piercing gaze. "Draco may be a fucking idiot, but I’m not," he explained. "Also, we don’t need him to hang out. I've known you just as long, so don't pretend we're not all friends, Granger." 

He released her chin and began striding toward her door, calling over his shoulder, “Grab your blanket, and let’s go; I'm not leaving you here.”

Hermione hummed and hurried after Abraxas, sweeping her blanket off her bed and grabbing her phone before leaving. "If I didn't know any better," she teased, a playful smile tugging at her lips, "I'd think you actually care about me, Abraxas Malfoy."

"Hah!" A deep, unexpected laugh erupted from him as Hermione closed her bedroom door behind her with a soft click. "Don't let anybody find out," he said, a grin over his shoulder.

Abraxas led Hermione down the shadowy hallway into the dimly lit living room. The flicker of the television cast a glow, illuminating Edmund, who lounged on the plush grey sectional. With a remote in hand, he casually flips through the channels with a distracted expression. 

When he saw them, his face split into a broad grin, and he punched the air, exclaiming, "You found her!"

Hermione stepped into the room with a bemused smile as she shook her head. "I wasn't lost, you know? I live next door,” she replied, raising an eyebrow.

She paused in front of Tom, who was lounging on the adjacent loveseat, his long legs splayed and an arm lazily draped over the backrest. He nudged his knee against hers in a silent greeting, and her gaze flicked up to meet his striking arctic-blue eyes, dropping to his lips just as they formed a soft "Hey." 

Edmund, undeterred, waved his hand dismissively. "Semantics. We were waiting for you to show up, and you didn't come." He glanced sidelong at Tom, "Right?" 

Under her breath, Hermione mumbled, "Well, neither did Draco," tearing her gaze away from Tom.

Amid their light banter, Abraxas leaned over the coffee table, snatching a bowl of popcorn. With a playful shove into Hermione, he forced her to stutter back a step before plopping down on the loveseat beside Tom. 

Hermione glared at Abraxas, but accepted the bowl with a resigned "Thanks.” 

Dropping down next to Edmund, Abraxas grabbed the remote from him, and Edmund retaliated by smacking his arm. Laughter erupted between them as Abraxas flicked through the channels. Suddenly, he stopped, extending his arm to aim the remote at the TV. "Look, Scream is about to start playing next!"

"Hermione."

She stirred slightly, attempting to nestle back into the embrace of sleep, burrowing her head deeper into the hardness of her pillow. The comforting scents of bergamot and cedarwood enveloped her like a warm blanket. Just as she drifted off again, a gentle shake at her knee awoke her.

"Hermione."

Her eyes fluttered open, and Hermione gazed up at Draco as he hovered over her with a look of confusion. He whispered, "What are you doing?"

Hermione sat up, realizing she had dozed off on Tom’s chest, and the two of them were practically snuggling together on the loveseat. Tom held a slumped position with his head thrown back and arm draped over Hermione's lower back. She glanced down and saw Tom’s hand on her waist, his fingers splayed over her hip as he anchored her close. 

"Oh," she murmured softly, her eyes drifting to the couch where Abraxas slept soundly. His head rested on Edmund's lap, and the television flickered a soft light across their faces.

Looking back at Draco, she offered a sheepish smile. "I guess we all passed out watching movies." 

Draco moved his hand from her knee, turning toward the shadowy hallway behind him. "Well, it's already late. Do you want to come upstairs and sleep with me?" He extended his arm, an invitation that felt familiar and intimate, much like the shared comforts of their past.

Hermione glanced at Tom, who remained blissfully asleep. She observed his chest's rhythmic rise and fall, a calmness that briefly stalled her decision. After a moment, Hermione nodded and grasped Draco’s hand as he helped her off the couch. 

She felt a lingering squeeze on her hip, a fleeting touch as Tom's hand slipped from her waist.

As they walked out of the living room together, Hermione turned to cast one last glance over her shoulder, her gaze locking with Tom’s in the semi-darkness. He lifted his hand a few inches above the seat she had just vacated, his fingers waving in a slow, almost reluctant farewell. 

An unknown expression shadowed his features as he watched her leave.

Draco closed the door to his bedroom behind them, and his one hand worked swiftly to unbutton his jeans as he moved further into the room. Hermione padded to the side of the familiar bed, pulling back the sheets and sinking into the soft mattress. Draco kicked off his jeans, leaving them carelessly on the floor, and crawled into the bed beside her. He wore only briefs and a soft t-shirt that hugged his frame.

Lying on her side, Hermione tucked her hands under her pillow, and she drank in the sight of him. She nervously bit her lips, her mind churning with a barrage of questions she longed to ask—what he had done tonight, why he chose to leave her behind, and—did you really need to ditch me, Draco?

The moonlight streamed through the window and illuminated Draco’s features in silvery light. Hermione watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips, and it sent the butterflies in her stomach into a frenzy. He turned his head to her, and a boyish grin bloomed across his face. "Wanna hear about my night?"

Feeling the knot in her stomach tighten, Hermione clamped her lips, too nervous to let her thoughts spill out. Instead, she nodded slowly, almost shyly.

Draco animatedly recounted how the night had unfolded, revealing that it had actually been a double date with Pansy. After the movies, the four ventured out for pizza, sharing laughs and stories until the owner finally ushered them out after closing. Draco laughed, his eyes sparkling, "It was really fun getting to know Pansy and her friends.”  

“Did you kiss her?" Hermione blurted out before she could gather her composure, the sudden notification that tonight had been a date crashing over her like icy water.

Draco stiffened at her words, turning on his side to face her. "It wouldn't be a problem, right? 'Cause it's not like we're dating, you know?" He gestured subtly between them with his finger. "We’re only practicing with each other, right?”

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over Hermione, threatening to tear her apart internally. She pushed each one down deep within her, shoving them aside to fester for another day, and masked her turmoil with a bright smile. 

"Right, we're the best of friends, Draco," she affirmed, placing her palm on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her hand. 

For a brief moment, Draco studied her face, his gaze searching. He then wrapped his fingers around her wrist, tugging her closer, "Come here." As Hermione cuddled  up to him, he leaned his head back and stated, "You smell like Tom."

With a burst of energy, Draco pushed himself up to a sitting position, his hands moving to the back of his collar, pulling his shirt off. He offered it to her. "Here, put mine on."

Hermione hesitated, then a daring notion formed as she contemplated the shirt in his outstretched hand. "I have a better idea." She sat up, crossed her arms, and reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. 

Draco's gaze dropped to her bare chest, his eyes widening in shock. "Fuck, ok." He groaned, desire threading through his voice.

Grabbing both of their shirts, Hermione tossed them aside, and she pushed Draco's shoulders down onto the mattress. Propped on her forearm, she gently caressed his cheek, guiding his chin toward her. She ignored the metaphoric sting in her chest, and the voice inside her heard warning her. "Let's stop talking about tonight and just kiss me for a while." 

Chapter Text

Saturday September 30 2006

10:35 AM: hey i just woke up and u aren't here

10:57 AM: brax said u were gone before they got up for breakfast

10:57 AM: my mom made French toast do u wanna come back over?

12:04 PM: Hermione?

Sunday October 1 2006

09:44 AM: hey do u wanna come over n get takeout maybe watch some movies later?

With a deep sigh, Hermione clicked her phone off, refusing to let her eyes linger any longer on the messages. She officially read the texts from Draco for the third time since she set foot in the food court, and that wasn't counting the endless views since receiving them yesterday morning.

Hermione shifted her weight to her hip, lifting her butt off the seat, and shoved her phone into the back pocket of her dark jeans. That's the end of that, she thought to herself. She slumped forward, and her chest pressed against the table's edge as she cradled her chin.

It wasn't long before she zoned out, stuck watching the mall patrons. Hermione was surprised to see so many people navigating the food court on a seemingly ordinary Sunday afternoon. She drew her attention to an older woman, arms loaded with shopping bags. 

Hermione’s eyes followed the shopper as they pushed through the East exit, passing through the double doors framed by the floor-to-ceiling glass. Outside, she watched a gust of wind kick up a few leaves that had begun to gather on the pavement. 

Hermione moved her elbows off the table with a huff of discontent, leaning back as much as she could in her seat. She stretched her legs out under the table, earning a series of satisfying cracks from her knees. Hermione then tried to cross her legs and collided awkwardly with the metal pole beneath the table. A slew of muttered curse words escaped her lips. 

She gave up, reaching for the hood of her sweatshirt and throwing it over her head in frustration. Just as she was about to tug the strings of her hood, the clearing of a throat nearby interrupted her moment of retreat.

"I have never seen you fidget more in my entire life," Lavender remarked, dropping her tray on the table.

The tray overflowed with a mountain of Sbarro's pizza, causing Hermione's stomach to rumble. Across from her, Lavender pulled out the plastic chair, flopping down gracefully in the way only she could.

"Seriously, Hermione, it's like you have ants in your pants- or you’ve drunk too many Red Bulls!” Ginny chimed in as she dropped an identical tray full of slushies and sodas next to Lavender. 

Hermione reached for a blue slushie, but Ginny quickly smacked her hand away. “Are we sure there's no caffeine in these? We can't have you bouncing out of the seat any more than you currently are."

"Don't be a brat. I haven't had any caffeine!" she retorted, snatching the drink from the tray. Quickly slurping through the straw, Hermione was hit with the sharp stab of a brain freeze. As she squeezed her eyes shut, her cheeks pulled up toward her nose as if recoiling from an unpleasant smell, and Hermione waved her hand until the searing sensation subsided.

The tantalizing scent of freshly fried potatoes wafted toward Hermione, and she opened her eyes to see Luna with a basket brimming with crisp, golden Boardwalk fries. Ginny rubbed her hands together, her wide, ravenous brown eyes gleaming with hunger. Luna caught Ginny's eager gaze and shook her head sharply with admonishment.

Reprimanded, Ginny slouched her shoulders, and her hands retreated to her lap. She knew their lunch was a secondary concern to the more pressing matter. Luna sat beside Hermione, gently placing her hand over her wrist and rubbing it soothingly with her thumb.

"Hermione isn't hyped on caffeine," Luna said softly, as if unveiling a secret. It's anxiety and..." she hesitated, tapping one of her black, polished fingers thoughtfully at her lip. "The denial of feelings which are kept close to the heart?" She looked knowingly at Hermione, who seemed to shrink under the stare.

Determined to steer the conversation, Lavender clapped her hands together, demanding the attention of her friends. "Ladies," she declared, picking up a straw and swiftly tearing it from its wrapper before stabbing it into her orange shake.

Gesturing over the alluring spread of food in their cozy corner booth, she declared, "We have the comforts of pizza and fries, and if there's room for dessert, we can hit up Cold Stone after.”

Lavender pointed her drink like an accusing finger at Hermione, “Sad girl, you start.” Hermione straightened up, about to retort, “Nuh-uh, don't even deny it! Your unusual dark cloud is wreaking havoc on your aura; just ask Luna."

Hermione crossed her arms defiantly over her chest, casting a look of betrayal toward her quirky blonde friend. Luna nudged Hermione gently, her voice soft and persuasive. "How about you start with some fries and then share what happened Friday night?"

Sighing, Hermione plucked a French fry from the basket, popping it into her mouth only to wince as it burned her tongue with its heat. Nodding her head, she power-chewed through until she painfully swallowed the fried potato. Fanning her mouth, she gasped, "God, I forgot how fresh these are!"

Ginny tried to suppress her laughter in the quiet aftermath of her culinary struggle, failing miserably as a snort escaped her. The comical interruption sent the trio into a fit of giggles. 

Lavender returned with a handful of napkins, tossing them on the table while she settled into her seat, their edges crinkled from being hastily grabbed. She immediately began to dab the excess grease on her pizza slice. 

"So," she began, pausing to bring her fingers to her lips, licking off the residue with a satisfied smirk that earned an exaggerated eye roll from Ginny. "Draco seriously went on a date with Pansy?" Her eyebrows arched incredulously as she prompted Hermione for more details.

Reaching across the table, Hermione grabbed a napkin from the pile, wiping her hands free of lingering crumbs while giving a slight nod. "Yeah, and believe it or not, Abraxas came to the house to pick me up. We had plans for a movie night with his brother, Tom, and Edmund."

"Really? And how did that go, exactly?" A wicked grin stretched across Ginny's face, mischief dancing in her eyes as she leaned back in her chair. "Are you swapping one Malfoy for the other now?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, crumpling the napkin and tossing it at Ginny, who skillfully dodged it. "Oh my God, Ginny, just shut up for a second and be serious. He didn't come right out and say it, but it was clear that Abraxas felt sorry for me after Draco ditched me or something," she huffed.

Lavender suppressed her own smirk as she mumbled, “Or something," her tone hinting at skepticism.

Ginny raised her slushie towards Lavender, tipping it slightly in agreement. "You got that right," she laughed.

Luna folded her hands beneath her chin and added, "Probably feels sorry for himself too, being related to that imbecile," she remarked lightly.

Hermione gasped dramatically, her jaw dropping as she playfully smacked Luna's upper arm. "Luna! Draco's not an imbecile," she exclaimed, her eyes wide. "He's also your boyfriend's best friend, not to mention my best friend!" Her tone held a note of protectiveness despite her conflicting feelings.

"Oh! Speaking of which, Ginny, remember the night of your birthday?" Lavender said, pointing her thumb back at Hermione with a sly grin, "This one nearly spilled her guts to me about how she was starting to feel something more for Draco."

Hermione's jaw dropped, and she slammed her hands on the table, shooting up slightly from her seat. "I thought you were too drunk to remember anything! You haven't said a word since then!"

"Oh, I knew it, Hermione, we all knew it!" Ginny leaned back in her seat, a French fry halfway to her mouth, her expression reveling in the moment. "I told you, you looked jealous when you saw Pansy and Draco were talking! There's no denying it any longer. 'Best friend' my ass!" She emphasized the last part with finger quotes.

Twisting in the booth to face Hermione directly, Luna tucked her leg beneath her as she gazed thoughtfully at her friend. "Truthfully, Hermione, you two have been dancing around each other for years, blissfully unaware of the thin line between friends and lovers. So, it’s unsurprising that the moment you introduce intimacy into your relationship, you uncover the depth of your true feelings lurking beneath the surface." 

Across the table, Lavender gasped, her mouth dropping open in astonishment. "Damn it, Luna! You're always delivering these little nuggets of wisdom out of nowhere." She leaned back against her seat, shaking her head in disbelief as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"What she said! Hermione, it's high time you two start addressing what's really going on between you!" Ginny responded, gesturing animatedly with her hands. "Except, neither of you seem to be doing what you should!"

Slumping back into her seat, Hermione averted her gaze from her friends, her voice low as she grumbled into her shoulder, "Well, it's not my fault he went out with Pansy."

However, Lavender was quick to interject, "Sulking in the food court and not telling him how it made you feel? That's entirely your fault."

"And it will be your fault if you don't express these growing feelings to him," Ginny added, her expression turning earnest as she leaned forward to meet Hermione's gaze.

Snapping her head back to her friends across the table, Hermione crossed her arms defiantly, her brow furrowing slightly. "You know, I like ya’ll better when you're not pouring out advice like this."

"Don't be upset that we're shining a light on the truth you're trying to ignore," Luna gently nudged Hermione from the left, her voice soothing yet insistent.

Exasperated, Hermione let out a long sigh. "Well, what am I supposed to do? We've been friends forever!" She dropped her hands to her thighs, rubbing her palms up and down in an attempt to soothe her nerves.

"This just... sort of happened. And to me, it feels natural, like it was always meant to be this way. I thought it might be the same for him. But if it's not, I won't say anything-especially if he doesn't see me that way."

Resigned, Hermione dropped her head back against the booth and stared at the ceiling, the fluorescent lights creating spots in her eyes. Her voice was small: "I won't be that girl who ruins a friendship over something so silly."

Ginny rapped her knuckles against the tabletop, garnering Hermione's attention as she lifted her head momentarily. "Let's get one thing straight—your feelings are never silly." She leaned in closer, as if divulging a secret to her friends, Ginny’s eyes moving from Hermione to Luna and back to Lavender. "And another, guys are stupid. If you don’t tell them something, even if you think it’s flat out obvious, they will never know."

Groaning, Hermione cradled her head in her hands, shaking it back and forth in disbelief. "I don't remember when I crossed the line."

"Hermione, it won't do you any good to sit here wallowing in your feelings, letting them fester."

"I know that, Lav," Hermione retorted, rubbing her hands down her face, a frown etched deeply on her features. She braced herself to share the worst part of her night. "Ugh, did I mention I stayed over Friday night, and we fell asleep together in his bed?"

Luna dropped her fork full of fries in surprise. "Wait, after the date?"

Ginny clicked her tongue against her teeth. "Like I said, Hermione, guys are stupid.”

Lavender hummed in agreement, “Unfortunately, we can be stupid too.”

Chapter Text

October 2006

Hermione was hiding in the kitchen, or more precisely, she was avoiding seeing and being seen by a certain blonde someone in there. She knew it was pointless, as the pendant lights above her almost acted like a spotlight, but at least they cast a soft glow around her instead of harsh, sterile lighting.

Her presence at Theo’s house party as an unwilling participant was hardly her fault. Hermione had intended to spend a quiet night in, but with a maniacal laugh and a firm grip, her best friends—sans Lavender—dragged her out of her house, shouting to the Grangers, “Not to worry!” and assuring them that their daughter would be safe and return home tomorrow. 

So, Hermione was manhandled and dragged to the Weasleys. Luna and Ginny promptly stripped her out of her gray sweatpants and oversized Camp Diagon t-shirt, and dressed her in what Ginny considered "House party appropriate” clothing. Luna provided the footwear for her, a sparkly pair of platform sneakers with black ribbon laces.

“Quit your moping and get rid of your pouty face,” Ginny announced, pushing a red plastic cup into her chest. “Try to have fun, we didn't dress you up to stow away in the kitchen.”

Hermione scoffed, grabbing the cup. “If you stay here with me, we can just as easily hang out.” She peered over the rim of the mysterious drink, wrinkling her nose, as she took a whiff and swirled the dark contents. “What the hell is this anyway?”

“It’ll make you feel better, just knock it back.”

After three drinks, Hermione felt blissfully relaxed, enjoying the company of her girlfriends and everyone around her. The warm buzz from the alcohol pulsed through her veins, causing a gentle pink to settle on her cheeks. 

Looking down at her black velvet platform sneakers, Hermione had to admit she looked good. Luna's shoes made her legs look longer, boosting her confidence. As she peeked over her shoulder, she couldn't resist wiggling her butt. The red mini-skirt Hermione wore, which Ginny threatened her life with, hugged her curves perfectly. 

“Yeah, Hermione!” Harry wolf-whistled at her and started singing “Shake dat ting miss” in a poor imitation of Sean Paul. Hermione looked up to see him grinning against the door frame.

“Is that your Jamaican accent?” Ginny barked out laughing. “That’s so bad.” 

Hermione hid her smirk behind her cup as she watched Ron drag Harry back to the living room and into the vibrant party atmosphere. She was having so much fun here. Why did she ever put up a fight about coming?

The unmistakable intro to her favorite song filled the air from the kitchen's surround-sound speakers. Hermione rose onto the balls of her feet, eagerly leaning over the counter, and biting her lower lip to keep herself from breaking out in lyrics too early.

Just then, Blaise burst into the kitchen from the left. Catching Ginny's gaze, he shot her a roguish wink before brandishing his Budweiser like a makeshift microphone. With boisterous confidence, he belted, "If you're listening, whoa oh, oh, oh, oh!" His voice boomed, filling the room with his electric energy.

Ginny glanced back at Hermione and Luna, her face a total look of surprise, a spark in her eyes that mingled with amusement. Her brow raised at the absurdity unfolding before them, the corners of her mouth twitching to stifle a laugh. The plastic cup wobbled within her grip, the liquor threatening to splash over the rim as her shoulders vibrated with laughter. 

In an effort to steal the spotlight, Theo made his entrance from the right, sliding on his knees like a performer at a rock show, stopping just in front of Luna. She shrieked with laughter from her perch atop the island, clapping her hands in encouragement as he sang into his beer bottle with exaggerated flair, "Sing it back, whoa oh, oh, oh, oh!"  

Luna's cheeks flushed a rosy pink as she joined in, her melodic voice ringing, "String from your tether unwinds, whoa oh, whoa oh!" She leaped off the counter, turning towards Ginny with her arms wide open, her bright eyes sparkling and her eyebrows dancing playfully, inviting her to sing along.

Seizing the moment, Ginny grasped Luna's hands, shaking her head vigorously, her fiery red hair whipping around her like a wild flame. With a cheeky grin, she shouted the next line, "Up and outward to bind, whoa oh, whoa oh!"

Suddenly, Hermione felt the unmistakable heat of a body pressing closely behind her. She turned her head slightly to discover Draco, and her heart started to flutter rapidly beneath her chest. His presence was both commanding and intimate as he positioned himself closer, hands splayed firmly on the counter, caging her in. 

Leaning down, he whispered into her ear, the timbre sending shivers down her spine as he sang, "I was spinning free, whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh." A shy smile crept onto Hermione's face as she tilted her face up, their lips mere inches apart. 

Dropping his hands to her waist, Draco’s piercing grey eyes fixated on Hermione’s lips, and in a velvety whisper that felt laced with magic, he sang, "With a little sweet and simple numbing me." 

He tugged her closer, and all bets were off as Hermione moved the extra inch, their lips crashing together in a collision of warmth and passion. When his mouth claimed hers, a jolt of electricity spread through her as their tongues entwined in a sweet exploration, the lingering taste of the Jolly Rancher shots Blaise had concocted earlier still fresh on his lips.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers curling into the soft strands at the nape, unashamedly pulling him closer. The raucous cheers from their friends, punctuated by wolf whistles from Theo and Ginny, faded into the background as she lost herself in the moment.

Their deep, frantic kissing turned soft and delicate as Hermione felt the ghost of a smile from Draco’s lips. His hands clasped around her wrists, untangling them from behind his neck, bringing them down to their sides, as he urged one more hasty kiss to her lips before pulling away completely.

Breathless, Hermione watched Draco for direction. Her usual clarity blurred between her last drink and the faint whisper of Draco singing in her ear. Smirking at her stunned expression, he lowered one hand, intertwined their fingers, and pulled her closer. "C'mon, Hermione," he beckoned. “Come follow me.”

Linking her arms around Draco’s waist, Hermione rested her head against his chest, breathing in his cedar and juniper cologne, feeling content and floating in her buzz. 

Draco opened the fridge, grabbed two Smirnoff Ice, and led Hermione out of the kitchen and down the hallway. They stumbled over their feet, laughing at themselves as the bottles clinked together. 

Hermione grabbed Draco's shirt, pulling him as she backed up and leaned against the door of a closed room. He pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes slowly wandering over her face, and she felt her cheeks flare under his intense gaze. Draco pressed his lips to her jaw, and in between the kisses he peppered upon her skin, he declared, “I've missed you.” He slowly moved down her neck, "I've barely seen you this week, between our classes and being neighbors, it almost feels like you've been ignoring me."

Hermione laughed, tugging harder on his shirt. "Draco, don't be silly. You know how busy we both can get with practice." 

The lie tasted bitter in her mouth, yet she clung to it—anything to avoid revealing the truth: that she was avoiding him, flooded with jealousy and anger, or worse, secretly developing feelings for him.

Without waiting for a response, Hermione reached behind her, gripping the door handle, and yanked them both into the room, leaving behind the advice of her friends, her turbulent feelings, and the warning signs lingering in the hallway.

Adjusting to the darkness, Hermione followed the moonlight streaming through the window, which revealed the room as one of Theo's multiple bathrooms. The walls were covered with sleek white subway tiles, complemented by an oversized gold-framed standing mirror in the corner, and Hermione’s favorite feature—a deep-set bathtub. 

Draco relaxed against the surface of the vanity, twisting off the tops of their drinks with practiced ease. He extended the drink toward Hermione, who looked up and accepted it with a faint, appreciative smile, mumbling a quiet thank you. She settled herself on the edge of the bathtub, feeling the coolness of the tiles beneath her, the hemline of her miniskirt riding up on her thighs. 

Draco's eyes flicked to the movement, and she saw his pupils dilate into two pools of darkness—dangerous depths she could easily drown in. He licked his kiss-swollen lips, and Hermione visibly swallowed. She felt a sudden wave of dryness as she sucked her drink down, her nerves operating in high gear. Draco frowned slightly, pushing off the counter. 

With a swift, controlled motion, he wrapped his hand around her bottle, gently but firmly removing it from her grasp. "No need to drink so fast," he said calmly, tinged with something unreadable. "We're not in a rush." He placed the bottle beside her, their fingers brushing briefly. The air between them grew thick with unspoken tension, each movement charged with underlying desire and restraint.

"No?" Hermione hiccupped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She dropped her hands into her lap, fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt as her mind raced. Draco moved closer to her, positioning himself so his legs flanked her on both sides. He brushed his fingers down her bare arms, lifting her hands in his, and held them.

Draco’s features flashed expressively as he moved, lifting one leg into the empty porcelain tub. “I have an idea,” he announced. With her hands still clutching his, he carefully guided them in, one leg after another, as he lowered himself into the tub. He sat down on the smooth tub floor, relaxing against the textured backrest. Dropping her hands from his, he patted his thigh with a firm, expectant look, his lips curling into a mischievous smirk

Hermione raised an eyebrow from her vantage point above him, but couldn’t resist conceding as she settled her knees outside his lap. She sat down with a deliberate thump, only to have his hands grip her hips and pull her closer, causing her breath to hitch.

Linking her arms behind his neck, Hermione began playing with the hair on his nape, and Draco tilted his head back, closing his eyes as he sighed contentedly. In the dim light, Hermione examined his face, noting his high cheekbones and the soft shadow of blonde hair growing under his chin.

Draco hummed softly, "You're pretty, Hermione,” he whispered.

Hermione laughed, stalling her movements. “You can't even see me, Draco,” she teased.

He lifted his head, both eyes open now, staring at what felt like into her soul. “I do see you, Hermione, I always see you.” He brushed his knuckles against her cheek, his hand trailing down her neck until it rested over her necklace. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt his fingers wrap briefly around their stones. She felt his body shift before she tasted him, his lips pressed softly to hers in a gentle kiss, quickly turning urgent as his tongue met hers. 

Draco moved his hands down her back, lifting her skirt to hang limply at her waist, exposing her ass as he palmed her bare skin. He spoke against her lips, “God, I sometimes dream about this, about you.” He groaned against her mouth as she felt him grow hard between her legs. Draco dug bruising fingers into her, shifting her core closer to grind against him. “You, on top of me, naked and sweating,” he whispered, “You’re so beautiful, Hermione. I can’t wait to see you like this.” 

Hermione gasped, “Draco,” but he cut her off with a searing kiss, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth. “I can’t wait for you to see me, too. I want you so bad; I never wanted somebody this bad before,” he panted into her mouth.

With his hand now around her waist, Hermione felt incredibly close with Draco.“I couldn’t imagine anyone else I’d rather do this with.”

Hermione woke with the sun shining in her eyes, blinking the sleep from her vision. As she took in her surroundings, she realized they had fallen asleep in the tub, and she still sat in his lap, lying on his chest. She pulled her lip between her teeth, a giddy burst of emotion warming her from the inside out. She settled her head back into the crook of Draco's shoulder and felt his arm tighten briefly around her.

Chapter Text

October 2006

Hermione rapped her knuckles twice on the open door of Draco's bedroom before casually walking in. “Hey, Abraxas said you're still getting ready and—" She trailed off as she flopped onto his mattress, leaning back on her palms. With a slight tilt of her head, she scrutinized Draco through narrowed eyes.

"Oh, hey, Hermione!” He glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening in surprise. "What are you doing here?" he asked, returning to face her reflection in the mirror. Draco continued to work the pomade between his hands, running his fingers through his hair with concentration, desperately attempting to style it. Whenever a strand of hair stubbornly fell flat, he scowled and muttered curses under his breath.

“Me?” Hermione stifled her laughter behind her palm, “I'm waiting for you. What's with this" she waved her fingers, sweeping up and down at his back, "Whole effort and doing your hair?”

He glanced at his reflection, taking in his dark blue jeans and the white button-down he had worn beneath a navy and gray striped pullover sweater, with his collar tucked out. Draco thumbed the lapel of his charcoal blazer, which he believed made him look cool, but now he was second-guessing himself, internally cringing at the thought. He sighed and met Hermione’s eyes in her reflection. “Do you think it’s too much?”

“Yeah, I think it's too much!” Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You know how hot it gets at the bowling alley.” She waved a hand down at her own outfit: skinny jeans paired with a short-sleeved top and a lace sweetheart neckline. “You don't see me so dressed up.”

"Oh shit!” Draco whispered, his face paling. Hermione watched as he hung his head back, dropping his arms limply at his side. With a deep sigh, he turned around, moving towards the bed and sank down on one knee. He looked up at Hermione guardedly as he took her hands into her lap.

“Hermione, I completely forgot,” he winced, removing one hand to rub the back of his neck. Avoiding her gaze, Draco continued, “We were talking about Halloween and scary things to do—someone mentioned the Field of Screams, so we figured it'd be fun to go tonight, especially since it’s Friday the 13th.”

She abruptly withdrew her hands from his hold, leaving them suspended in the air. She furrowed her brow, creating a shadow of concern across her face. "Who's 'we'?" Hermione questioned, her voice laced with curiosity and a hint of urgency.

Draco's expression twisted into a grimace as he hastily murmured, “Pansy, Adrian, and Daphne.” In that fleeting moment, a shadow of guilt flickered across his features.

“But—" she paused, standing up from the bed, as her hand reached her necklace, fingering the raw stones. "It's laser night at Lucky Strikes." Hermione looked down at Draco. "Are you—are you ditching me again?" she stuttered, her voice rising at the end, revealing the hurt she was trying to suppress.

Hermione quickly cleared her throat, keeping a poker face as she looked at Draco, who had moved from the floor to the bed. He gazed up at her, an apologetic look on his face, and parted his lips to respond.

“That's fine," she said, waving her hand to dismiss him as she quickly turned toward the door. In a steady voice, she asserted, "I’ll just see what the girls are up to!" With her hand on the doorknob, Hermione called over her shoulder, "Have fun tonight!" and shut the door before he could respond.

Hermione walked a few paces down the hallway and stopped, resting her forehead against the closed bathroom door. She let out a humorless laugh, rolling her head over the surface of the door. She wouldn’t bother her friends; they knew she and Draco usually went bowling tonight, so they were out with their boyfriends.

And here I am, Hermione thought, standing in the hallway of my best friend's house while he gets ready to go out with someone else. “I'm such a stupid girl,” she mumbled to herself. What am I doing, falling for Draco when he clearly sees us as just friends? She rubbed a fist over her chest, realizing she really needed to stop placing so much significance on his actions and words when there was nothing more between them.

With a deep sigh, Hermione lifted her head, as if it took great effort, and made her way to the entrance. As she neared the open door to Abraxas’s room, she heard him call out, “Where do you think you’re going?” She paused to see him step out from the shadows, shrugging on a flannel shirt. “I’m about to head to the pool hall, and you’re coming with me.”

Hermione followed behind him as they walked through the kitchen. "It’s okay, Abraxas. I don’t want to tag along at the last minute like some charity case,” she said, crossing her arms protectively. Her voice dipped low as she added, “I’m just going to go home and watch a movie or something.”

“Hermione, stop being stubborn,” Abraxas insisted. “You’re going to the pool hall with us, and that’s final.” He arched an eyebrow, challenging her to question him again.

She let her hands fall to her sides, a sigh escaping her lips as she relented. "Alright, fine," Hermione admitted, "But honestly, it feels like I'm your baby sister, and our mom is twisting your arm to bring me along to hang out with your friends.”

“That’s precisely what I’m doing," Abraxas replied with a playful smirk, his fingers quickly swiping the keys off the counter and jingling them lightly. “But you’re not my baby sister,” he added with a teasing glint in his eyes. “However, my baby brother is an asshole for forgetting you guys had plans,” he growled, frustration creeping into his voice.

Hermione scowled, her expression a mix of annoyance and exasperation. “Ouch. You heard that?” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “I never fail to embarrass myself in this house."

Abraxas ruffled her curly hair with a lighthearted chuckle, tousling it into an unruly mess before deftly dodging a playful smack aimed at him. “What’s a little embarrassment between friends?” he quipped, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Now, shut up and let’s go.”

The Green Felt had the atmosphere of a classic dive bar, dimly lit and welcoming in a neighborly way. Inside, eight pool tables stood, their felt tops soft and wood edges polished. The bar had a rustic finish and offered quick pub food, a typical alcoholic selection, and sodas for minors. But what made the pool hall stand out from the local bar was its decor—wooden paneling that reached halfway up the walls, topped with textured damask wallpaper featuring a deep navy color with gold foil accents. The pool tables were traditional, made from rich walnut with thick clawfoot legs and detailed touches like leaflike designs over the grooves.

Hermione settled on one of the sleek black high tops set along the wall beside their table, her honey eyes fixed on Tom as he racked up the balls with ease. He made it look effortless, with smooth movements as he organized the balls. "You know, I've never played pool," she admitted with a hint of curiosity.

Tom paused, tilting his head as her confession caught him. He suddenly straightened, lifting the rack off the table and held it over his heart. His lips curled into a dazzling smile that lit up his entire face, revealing a hint of dimples. "Oh, Hermione, you wound me," he teased. "This is the game of all games—everyone should know how to play.”

As she chewed her bottom lip, Hermione considered herself. She didn't want to be a bystander, letting this Friday night slip away or wallow in self-pity, entertaining sad thoughts about Draco. If he can have fun without considering her feelings, then she should do the same, right?

With a sense of determination, Hermione jumped down from her seat and moved to stand next to Tom. She nudged her shoulder into his, a challenge in her eyes. “Ok, Mr. Pool Boy, show me how to play,” she said with a sly grin.

Tom raised an eyebrow at her and tucked the rack beneath the table, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. "You've got it, princess,” he said, his gaze darting to her hand as he leaned in. He paused, his expression a mix of amusement and uncertainty, as if a second thought had just hit him. Tom quickly shook his head and reached for her hand, leading her to the cue sticks on the wall. From the corner of her eye, Hermione caught a glimpse of a smile creeping onto his face.

Tom trailed his fingers over the selection of sticks before choosing a medium-sized pool cue from the stand. Its light-colored wood and blue handle stood out. "Try this one out. If it's too heavy, I think there are some lighter ones over there."

Hermione eyed the stick warily, then glanced back at the table where Tom's own stick rested against it. "Can't we just use your stick?"

Tom chuckled warmly. "No, we can’t share the same stick. I'm a lot taller than you, so it'll be too long and awkward for you to use."

Hermione pouted, but plucked the cue stick Tom held out for her, sticking her tongue out at him in the process. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her hip against the table. Nodding her chin at Tom, she asked, “Ok, Professor Pool, what next?”

Tom threw his head back, laughing. He gave Hermione a full grin, his cheeks hitting his eyes as they crinkled. “I’ve graduated from Mr. Pool Boy to Professor?”

"I'm trying some names out," Hermione said with a wink. "We'll see which one sticks."

Tom spread his arms across the table. “Ok, so we're playing 8-ball, and basically the goal is to sink all your balls in the pockets.” He pointed a long finger at the triangle of balls in the middle. “You'll either be stripes or solids, and once you're out of balls, you call the pocket you're aiming for when you shoot the 8-ball.” 

Tom leaned over the table, resting his hands on the edge. Smirking at Hermione, he continued, “If you hit the eight ball before clearing all your balls, then that's game, and you lose."

Hermione bit her lip, looking between Tom and the balls on the table. “Um, so how exactly do I hit the balls?” she asked, placing her cue horizontally on the table and holding it limply at the end.

Tom studied her, bringing his thumb and forefinger under his chin while he hummed. "Are you left-handed or right-handed? Ok then, you're gonna hold the cue stick with that hand like so,” demonstrating with his own stick as he lined it up behind the cue ball, his body curling over the table. “Now you try,” he stepped to the side, pointing a finger at the ground next to him.

She strode toward him, standing at attention and mimicking a finger salute. Tom rolled his eyes and stepped behind her, using his foot to kick her legs apart. “You wanna stand with your feet shoulder-width apart to maintain your balance.”

“Alright, now bend over.” Tom's hand trembled slightly as he hesitated, his fingertips pressing against her spine and finally his palm. He cleared his throat. “Um, is this OK?” he murmured from above as he gently nudged her forward, guiding her into position for the shot. Hermione silently nodded, feeling his hand disappear before being replaced by the warmth of his chest as he hovered above her.

Tom shifted her shoulders, his right hand skimming slowly down her forearm, to adjust how she held the cue stick. He took her left hand and laid it flat on the table, watching as he placed his large, warm palm over hers.

His voice was calm and steady as he explained how to guide a shot, making the moment feel intimate. Hermione didn't realize how close Tom's face had gotten until she heard him whispering into her ear. "When you shoot, you wanna visualize the shot, and focus on the point where the cueball will hit,” he instructed. She turned her head slightly, closing the gap between them even more, her heartbeat quickening.

Now just inches apart, Hermione could see the flecks of grey in Tom's glacial eyes. She cleared her throat and caught him glancing briefly at her lips. Wavering slightly, she asked softly, "Now what?" Her voice came out breathy, though she hadn't intended it to sound that way. Hermione silently hoped her face wasn't blushing and that her breath didn't smell.

Lavender stood outside the bathroom as she awaited Edmund's return. In that moment, she spotted Abraxas leaning casually against the wooden bar, his posture relaxed as he tapped his fingers against the surface. She made her way over, resting her elbow on the bar and angling her body towards him as she crossed her ankles.

Her green eyes locked onto his, an intensity radiating from her gaze until Abraxas could no longer ignore it. He turned, meeting her look with amusement.

"Your brother's an asshole," she stated.

Abraxas hummed in agreement, a knowing glimmer in his eyes.

Lavender paused, her pink manicured nails tapping a rapid beat on the counter, the sound punctuating the ambient chatter around them. "He's an idiot too," she added, frustration creeping into her voice.

He hummed in affirmation again, his eyes glancing over his shoulder. Lavender followed his gaze and found Hermione and Tom engaged in a quietly intimate conversation. Abraxas arched an eyebrow, the motion inviting her to speak.

Lavender studied the pair, tilting her head slightly as the pieces aligned in her mind. "Tom likes her, doesn't he?" she breathed.

Abraxas, on the verge of humming again, was interrupted by a whack to his shoulder from Lavender. "Yes, yes, he likes her, Lavender," he replied, wincing as he rubbed his shoulder. "Do you beat Edmund up like this, too?" he teased, his smile widening.

She shot him a pointed glare but felt her expression soften as she turned back to observe Tom and Hermione, who were now quietly sharing words, Hermione's hand gently resting on Tom's arm. "Good," she muttered, a fierceness lacing her words, "He seems a lot better than that blind brother of yours."

Just then, the bartender approached, delivering their drinks with a practiced smile. Lavender gratefully grabbed her glass of water, taking a long sip to steady her rising emotions. "I don't know who the hell he thinks he is,” she ranted, “treating Hermione the way he did. No offence." Her face darkened with frustration as she muttered, “stringing her along with his stupid idea, only to leave her hurt and alone."

"Hah!" Abraxas interjected, "None taken! I'm not here to defend that brat's honor. He's making stupid mistakes, and he'll pay for them in the end." He took a long swig of his soda, nearly emptying the glass before pausing. "Wait, what stupid idea?"

Lavender's eyes widened in surprise. "Uh—I can't say," she stammered, quickly diverting her gaze as their food arrived. "Oh, look, it's our order!" 

Arriving home shortly before midnight, Draco trudged through the entryway and into the kitchen. The recessed lights faintly illuminated the room, casting soft shadows across the countertops. There, perched on a stool at the counter, sat Abraxas, crunching on a bowl of salt and vinegar chips, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet space.

Draco offered a brief nod of acknowledgement to his brother as he ambled past, his steps heavy with fatigue and his mind still lingering in the fragments of the day. His eyes darted toward the pantry, drawn by the allure of a late-night snack. He leaned against the doorframe, considering his options.

Suddenly, the thud of a bowl tossed into the sink jolted him from his thoughts. Draco turned, caught off guard, and found Abraxas beside him. Startled, Draco instinctively dropped his hands from the doorframe. "Shit, you scared me," he exclaimed, his heart racing for a moment as they locked eyes.

With fierce intensity, Abraxas raised both hands and drove them forcefully into Draco's chest. The impact sent Draco stumbling backward into the pantry door, which swung against the wall with a loud bang. Surprised and inflamed with anger, he glared at Abraxas and shouted, "What the hell was that for?"

Determined to retaliate, Draco advanced toward his brother, his hands raised in a challenge to shove him back. But Abraxas was quick, blocking Draco's arms and seizing one of his wrists, pulling him closer with a firm grip.

A dark scowl twisted Abraxas's features as he leaned in, his voice low and charged with frustration. "What the fuck are you even thinking, Draco?" He spat out his brother's name as if it were an insult. 

Twisting sharply in Abraxas's grip, Draco strained against him, shoving with his free hand in an attempt to gain some distance. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

Abraxas's gaze was steely as he glared back, a warning lacing his tone. "I'm going to say this to you only once, Draco. Just wait until she decides she's had enough of being your friend. You'd better hope your brain catches up to your dick before it's too late." He pressed a finger into Draco's chest with a forceful jab. “Even I can admit that Hermione is quite the catch, and trust me, I'm not the only one who's noticed."

Draco swatted Abraxas's hand away, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What exactly does that mean?" he asked, an uneasy feeling creeping into his chest.

Abraxas disregarded him, turning away as he walked toward the hall and his room. Without looking back, he said, “This is something you’ll need to figure out on your own. Or not.”

Chapter Text

October 13, 2006

cheer lav_91 (11:43 PM): guys! guess who tagged along 2night

cherrieb0Mb (11:43 PM): WHO WHAT
cherrieb0Mb (11:44 PM): WHer
cherrieb0Mb (11:45 PM): e

sparklegothhh (11:46 PM): u forget when gin

cherrieb0Mb (11:49 PM): YEH WHEN

cheer lav_91 (11:51 PM): ur annoyin

cherrieb0Mb (11:51 PM): ur mom

cheer lav_91 (11:52 PM): omg

sparklegothhh (11:53 PM): where's hermione?
sparklegothhh (11:53 PM): helloooooooo

cheer lav_91 (11:54 PM): THatS WHO TAGGED ALONG
cheer lav_91 (11:55 PM): !!!!!!!!

sparklegothhh (11:56 PM): i thought she went bowling with drakey drake

cherrieb0Mb (11:56 PM): wasnt she with dracon
cherrieb0Mb (11:57 PM): draco

cheer lav_91 (11:58 PM): N O !!
cheer lav_91 (11:58 PM): that little
cheer lav_91 (11:59 PM): blonde motherfucker
cheer lav_91 (11:59 PM): fucking
cheer lav_91 (11:59 PM): DITCHED

October 14, 2006

cheer lav_91 (12:00 AM): HER
cheer lav_91 (12:00 AM): AGAIN

cherrieb0Mb (12:01 AM): *currentky strangling draco and watching his eyes popout of his head*
cherrieb0Mb (12:02 AM): LIVID

sparklegothhh (12:03 AM): o no hermione
sparklegothhh (12:03 AM): :(

cherrieb0Mb (12:04 AM): HERMIONE WAS IT PANSY AGAIN
cherrieb0Mb (12:08 AM): ill go after her next
cherrieb0Mb (12:08 AM): that lil slut

grangerrr19 (12:09 AM): is she?

sparklegothhh (12:10 AM): oh hello there!
sparklegothhh (12:10 AM): im sure shes not

cherrieb0Mb (12:11 AM): lav lav u heard anything about pansy the possible slut ?
cherrieb0Mb (12:12 AM): LAV LAV
cherrieb0Mb (12:12 AM): L
cherrieb0Mb (12:12 AM): A
cherrieb0Mb (12:13 AM): L

cheer lav_91 (12:13 AM): omg ginny im trying to sleep go away

cherrieb0Mb (12:13 AM): L
cherrieb0Mb (12:14 AM): A
cherrieb0Mb (12:14 AM): oh oops :p sleep tight snuggle bug
cherrieb0Mb (12:20 AM): …. did u all pass out on me?

grangerrr19 (12:25 AM): no i’m still here

sparklegothhh (12:27 AM): *waves*

cherrieb0Mb (12:30 AM): so….granger
cherrieb0Mb (12:30 AM): wut happened

sparklegothhh (12:31 AM): please tell

grangerrr19 (12:33 AM): um i went to dracos and he was getting ready
grangerrr19 (12:33 AM): i thought he was getting ready for me cuz it was laser night

cherrieb0Mb (12:34 AM): ya we know u guys are bowling nerds

grangerrr19 (12:35 AM): are not
grangerrr19 (12:35 AM): anyway he was dressed…nicer than i expected
grangerrr19 (12:36 AM): it’s hot as balls there and he was wearing a cute sweater over a button up

cherrieb0Mb (12:36 AM): don’t compliment the gremlin

sparklegothhh (12:36 AM): ^^what she said

grangerrr19 (12:39 AM): anyways he was getting ready for field of screams with pansy daphne and adrian
grangerrr19 (12:39 AM): he just forgot
grangerrr19 (12:40 AM): ill get over it ya know
grangerrr19 (12:41 AM): i’m just being kinda dumb having a crush on him
grangerrr19 (12:41 AM): its just kissing and stuff

sparklegothhh (12:42 AM): and stuff?

cherrieb0Mb (12:42 AM): UR NOT DUMB

grangerrr19 (12:44 AM): ya but me overthinking every little interaction with draco is dumb
grangerrr19 (12:44 AM): if it meant anything more, he’d say it

sparklegothhh (12:46 AM): are you so sure about that?

cherrieb0Mb (12:50 AM): fuck it hermione he’s just a dick
cherrieb0Mb (12:51 AM): that’s the goal anyway right?
cherrieb0Mb (12:55 AM): fuck it’s late

grangerrr19 (12:59 AM): yeah i’m best friends with a dick now. nothing more :)

sparklegothhh (01:02 AM): *sigh* i don’t like the sounds of all of this

grangerrr19 (01:03 AM): go to bed luna, you’ll feel better about it tm morning

cherrieb0Mb (01:04 AM): yeah i’m going to bed too

sparklegothhh (01:08 AM): *internally screaming*

private message from
cheer lav_91 (12:30 AM): hmmm i see how ur leaving a certain TALL DARK AND HANDSOME JUNIOR OUT OF THIS
cheer lav_91 (12:34 AM): i saw the way you two were flirting
cheer lav_91 (12:42 AM): *sings* YOU CANT IGNORE ME

grangerrr19 (12:45 AM): i was not flirting !

cheer lav_91 (12:47 AM): I SAW WHAT I SAW
cheer lav_91 (12:47 AM): maybe you weren’t but HE was

grangerrr19 (01:10 AM): …… was he?

October 14, 2006

sparklegothhh (10:10 AM): theos having a halloween party saturday
sparklegothhh (10:10 AM): group costumes again?

cherrieb0Mb (11:48 AM): nah me n blaise are gonna do poison ivy n batman

cheer lav_91 (11:53 AM): is blaise gonna be poison ivy?

cherrieb0Mb (11:55 AM): har har ur a hoot
cherrieb0Mb (11:55 AM): he doesnt have the ass 2 pull it off

sparklegothhh (12:00 PM): maybe i can convince theo to be the mad hatter and ill be alice

grangerrr19 (12:05 PM): i can throw a sheet on myself and pretend im a ghost
grangerrr19 (12:20 PM): actually ill see what i can find at the mall

private message from
Riddle tm (11:56 AM): hey

grangerrr19 (11:58 AM): hey!

Riddle tm (11:59 AM): it’s tom if it wasn’t obvious :p
Riddle tm (12:00 PM): srry lav gave me ur screen name

grangerrr19 (12:03 PM): lol i figured
grangerrr19 (12:04 PM): so what’s up?

Riddle tm (12:05 PM): nothing
Riddle tm (12:07 PM): it was fun hanging out last night

grangerrr19 (12:09 PM): yea! you and edmund are hilarious
grangerrr19 (12:10 PM): i can see why lav likes him so much

Riddle tm (12:11 PM): ;D funny guys get the girl
Riddle tm (12:12 PM): so we should do it again

grangerrr19 (12:14 PM): go to the green felt with the guys and lav?

Riddle tm (12:14 PM): yeah we could do that
Riddle tm (12:14 PM): or
Riddle tm (12:15 PM): if you’re not doing anything later me and you could do something
Riddle tm (12:17 PM): no pressure we can go to the mall
Riddle tm (12:17 PM): and look at halloween costumes?

grangerrr19 (12:18 PM): i think i’d like that
grangerrr19 (12:19 PM): pick me up in an hour ?

Riddle tm (12:20 PM): you got it princess :)

Chapter Text

October 2006

Draco lounged on Theo's bed, his brown boots planted on the floor as he casually tossed a stuffed monkey into the air. With a slight turn of his head, he raised an eyebrow at Theo, who was in a state of utter chaos.

His fingers fumbled clumsily with his Mad Hatter costume, wrestling his lanky torso through the lime green jacket. It was inconveniently stitched to the turquoise satin vest, and his struggle was intensified by the haze of the two blunts he smoked with Draco to gear up for tonight.

Draco's mind drifted back to Theo's party a few weeks ago, where he indulged in one too many drinks with his friends, getting blissfully drunk and singing to Hermione. The sound of her surprised laughter still echoed in his ears.

Worse, the memory of her presence lingered, the way he looked at her from below, the warmth of her body so comforting, adding fuel to his frequently tantalizing dreams of her. Draco could admit that he loved exploring the feel of her skin beneath his hands and the exhilarating rush she evoked in him during those moments.

He cursed his blunder when he nearly confessed his shift in feelings to her, almost revealing a sort of longing for her—something Draco didn’t allow himself to dwell on. They were close enough already if the intense thrum of his heart during their deep kisses was anything to go by.

Lately, Draco has found it frustrating that their schedule has become so busy with school and sports, but he figured things would get better once the JV lacrosse season wrapped up with their last game on Tuesday. He certainly missed the stolen moments they had shared so frequently in the summer.

His thoughts soon wandered to Pansy. He relished the fact that someone wanted him and spent her time vying for his attention. Draco smirked to himself at the thrill of being pursued; it was a great confidence booster. 

The experiences he shared with Hermione, along with his time out with Pansy, made him feel less like an untouched nerd. In the whirlwind of the school's social dynamics, he felt like he was finally starting to fit in, his newfound charm and appeal placing him on the same level as his friends and teammates with the opposite sex.

Draco shook his head, clearing the mental fog. He turned to Theo and suggested, "Just cut the vest off," lazily waving his hand in Theo's direction. "Wear your long coat thingy." Draco resumed tossing the toy monkey into the air, each throw higher than the last.

After a brief struggle, Theo finally managed to get his head through the neck of the costume with a triumphant huff. His arms awkwardly poked out from the polyester sleeves as he adjusted the outfit around him. Theo drew his shoulders back, inspecting his reflection in his dresser mirror. He leaned forward, his torso pressing against the ledge as he adjusted his hair, making sure each curl lay perfectly before he placed his top hat on.  

Theo softly muttered, “Just cut the vest off, he said.” Theo scoffed, looking at Draco through the mirror, his red-rimmed eyes wide as saucers. The manic energy radiated off him, enhancing his Mad Hatter costume; the glossy sheen of his eyes made Draco admit that Theo really did look like he stepped out of Wonderland just then. 

Draco grinned widely, his smile revealing almost all his teeth as he squinted his eyes in amusement. Propping himself up on one elbow, he absentmindedly brushed his lips with his hand as he tried to suppress a laugh. It quickly bubbled up into a snort as he teased, "You get dressed like you're a fucking toddler, Theo."

In response, Theo arched a brow in the mirror, locking eyes with Draco briefly, a silent challenge shimmering between them. Then, with a swift movement, Theo spun around and lunged for the stuffed monkey resting on the bed. Draco let out a startled yelp as he rolled off the bed and onto the floor, and soon both boys were howling with laughter.

The bedroom door creaked open slowly, revealing Blaise standing in the doorway. He was dressed in the classic Batman costume—grey and black spandex with the signature mask covering half his face. His sharp eyes narrowed through the slits of the mask as he surveyed Draco and Theo, who couldn't help but burst into laughter. "What the hell is wrong with you two?" Blaise asked. 

He stepped inside Theo’s room, closing the door behind him. Slowly pulling his mask up, Blaise settled it securely over his head. His dark gaze swept across Draco, who was dressed in a bright yellow shirt and matching pants, his wide-brimmed yellow hat lying next to him on the floor. Blaise tilted his chin in his direction, "Draco, did you dress up as a fucking banana?"

Draco smirked, his eyes gleaming as he proclaimed, "I'm the man in the yellow hat!” He grinned at his own joke, then knelt beside the bed, grabbing the stuffed monkey. With a theatrical flourish, he raised it high above his head, mimicking a scene from a children's movie. Theo burst into laughter, wheezing and flinging his head back, his top hat tumbling off.

Blaise rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed by his friends' antics. He crossed his arms and shot Draco a sharp look. "Alright, Curious George," he snapped, drawing his attention. “Wanna tell me why my lovely girlfriend has been cursing your existence?”

Draco's laughter abruptly stopped, a look of utter surprise flickering across his face. Sitting back on his heels, he patted his chest in innocence. "Me? What did I do?" he asked, tilting his head and sweeping his blonde hair back with a casual flick of his fingers.

Theo groaned softly, adjusting his top hat as he sat up in bed. He cast a wary glance toward Draco, trying to read his face. "You know what, Luna’s been kinda shrugging you off whenever I talk about you," he muttered, scratching his chest while his eyes drifted to the ceiling, distracted by something more interesting.

Blaise leaned languidly against the dresser, arms crossed, a skeptical look on his face. "Yeah, what's up with that? Gin won’t even answer me when I ask why.”

"Fuck if I know what they're bitching about, but if this is what having a girlfriend is like," Draco said, laughing half-heartedly, "then thank god I don't have one." 

"Oh, shut up." Blaise shot back, nudging Draco’s thigh with his foot. "Up until late, you and Hermione were practically glued at the hip. She's the closest thing to having a girlfriend as you can get." 

Draco rubbed his temples, trying to relieve the tension he felt whenever this was brought up. “Dude, we've been over this—we're not dating,” he said, voice strained with annoyance.

Theo scoffed, "Yeah, we've heard it before, blah blah we're just best friends blah blah—something about being kissing buddies only," and shared a look with Blaise, prompting Draco to roll his eyes. 

“I honestly couldn't tell you why Ginny or Luna are saying shit. Hermione hasn't said anything to me.” Draco groaned, mumbling, "It's not like we've hung out lately or anything." He trailed off, not wanting to discuss Hermione or their girlfriends any longer.

“Fuckkk,” Draco exclaimed briefly, dropping his head back. He rubbed his hands down his face as a memory came back. "I did forget we had plans for bowling last week. That's probably why they're both pissed—girls in solidarity or whatever.”

Blaise suddenly laughed as he absentmindedly rummaged through various items atop Theo's dresser. He caught Draco’s reflection in the mirror and wiggled his eyebrows. Turning to Draco with a mischievous grin. "So, what did you end up doing instead?" he asked.

Draco quickly averted his eyes. "I went out on a date with Pansy and her friends to some scary Halloween shit," he mumbled, already regretting his words.

Theo, who was still lying in bed on his side, twisted to get a better look at Draco. He leaned in with a sly smile. "You have a thing going on with her now?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

Nervously laughing, Draco dragged his hands through his hair once more. “Dude, what are you talking about? I don't have a thing going on with anybody—now or before." 

"I don't know, Draco. You've gone out with Pansy a few times. Do you actually like her or what?" Blaise asked, a teasing grin on his face."Maybe you should consider actually dating her."

Draco hesitated, then smirked. "You think? Honestly, she's pretty cute." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if I did start dating her." Suddenly, Theo's phone buzzed with a new message, snapping Draco out of his thoughts.

Theo held up his beat-up phone, casually flicking it from side to side. "The girls are on their way. Let's hit a bowl a few times before the party gets started," he said, a menacing grin on his face.

Rubbing his hands together eagerly, Draco tipped his chin at Blaise. "You in this time?" he asked.

Blaise pushed off the cluttered dresser, reaching down to snatch the stuffed monkey lying on the carpet. "Fuck it, I'm in. Let's go," he declared, chucking the monkey at Draco as he got up from the floor.

“Ow, you fucking dick!”

"Mettez-vous en binôme et travaillez sur l'exercice pendant le reste de la classe," instructed Monsieur Martin, a stern-looking middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair and sharp hazel eyes. The students, fatigued and groggy on this Monday morning, reluctantly shuffled their feet as the sound of chatter and the rustling of papers gradually filled the once-quiet classroom. 

Draco leaned over his desk into the narrow aisle between rows, nudging his elbow into Pansy's side to catch her attention. "Wanna be my partner?" he asked softly.

Pansy's eyes sparkled as she fluttered her eyelashes, flirtatiously resting her hand on his forearm. With a coy smile, she purred, "Oh, Draco, you don't even have to ask." She shot him a simpering look.

Draco smirked confidently as he rose to push his desk closer to hers, and Pansy responded by scooting her chair closer, their legs nearly brushing. The outside of her bare thigh pressed against Draco's, and he couldn't help but glance down, noticing the slight rise of her skirt. His grin grew mischievous as he seized the moment, draping his arm around the back of her chair. Curling into her, he reached between them to close her textbook, then casually placed his own on top, sharing the space even more.

While working through their French classwork,  Draco casually played with Pansy's hair, distracting himself by twirling the strands around his fingers. He nodded when prompted, answered questions easily, and even offered alternative translations when Pansy was close to solving a question.

As they worked quietly, his mind drifted back to his conversation with Blaise and Theo on Saturday—should he ask Pansy out? Was that the next step, is that what she expected?

Draco thought his experiences with Hermione had prepared him enough to be confident in dating, yet they did discuss losing their virginities together, and they hadn't reached that stage yet. He was unsure how to sort through his feelings—he wondered if he started dating Pansy, would Hermione look elsewhere for someone? The thought of losing her, of her seeking someone else if he began dating Pansy, nagged at him.

He shook his head sharply, scolding himself.

No, Hermione wouldn't do that; she hadn't before, so she wouldn't now. They'd promised to do this together.

Draco was pretty vocal about his feelings, constantly reaffirming how much he wanted to lose his virginity to Hermione. She was clearly the only girl he cared about. They'd been best friends for so long, after all, right? 

Still, if he dated Pansy, he told himself it wouldn't be serious. Nothing long-term. It wouldn't change anything.

A strange, tight sensation blossomed in his chest. He pressed a hand to his sternum, rubbing the spot absentmindedly, trying to figure out if he was experiencing heartburn from breakfast or something.

His attention was briefly drawn to Pansy as she turned her head slightly, offering a shy smile that Draco mirrored, a flicker of anticipation stirring inside him.

"Hey Pansy," he whispered, gently tucking a strand of her hair, "Do you maybe, uh, wanna be my girlfriend?"

Pansy gasped, dropping her hand to clutch his thigh, dangerously close to his groin, which caused a stir in his briefs. "Draco! I thought you'd never ask!"

Chapter Text

October 2006

Hermione heard the rumors. 

She wasn’t deaf.

Hermione also heard the pings from her computer, her friends clearly ignoring her away status this morning.

grangerrr19 (Auto reply): “don’t call my name out your window, i’m leaving”

cherrieb0Mb (06:26 AM): r u gonna confront the little shit?

sparklegothhh (06:26 AM): which one?
sparklegothhh (06:27 AM): draco or pansy?

cheer lav_91 (06:29 AM): they’re both fucking shits in my book
cheer lav_91 (06:30 AM): you better still wear ur costume to school
cheer lav_91 (06:31 AM): it’s a *blessing* that’s prinicpaldumbledore even lets us out of uniform

cherrieb0Mb (06:31 AM): fuck yeah
cherrieb0Mb (06:31 AM): MAKE HIM REGRET THR DAY HE WAS BORN HERMIONE

sparklegothhh (06:33 AM): if that doesn’t make him feel guilty then i’ll send theodore after him

cheer lav_91 (06:34 AM): you got theo trained?

cherrieb0Mb (06:34 AM): *luna cracks her whip*

cheer lav_91 (06:35 AM): LOL

sparklegothhh (06:40 AM): he’s my good lil lap dog :D

grangerrr19 (06:40 AM): ugh i’m putting it on as we speak.

cherrieb0Mb (06:41 AM): good
cherrieb0Mb (06:41 AM): want me to bring love spell? bathe yourself with the mist of the heavens and let him lament about his poor decisions

sparklegothhh (06:42AM): l o l wut??

grangerrr19 (06:42 AM): lament? that’s a big word for you

cheer lav_91 (06:43 AM): damn gin read a dictionary when we weren’t looking

cherrieb0Mb (06:44 AM): shut up
cherrieb0Mb (06:44 AM): blame english lit and the shakespeare were reading
cherrieb0Mb (06:44 AM): ok by bus here

Hermione tugged off her messenger bag and jammed it into her locker. She usually didn’t use it for school, preferring her JanSport, but her costume required her to keep her back free. She slammed her locker shut, revealing Ginny hiding behind it. Ginny wore cut-off jeans, cowboy boots, and a red flannel shirt tied at the waist.

“Holy shit, Gin, you scared the crap out of me!” yelped Hermione, clutching her chest as her heart raced. She narrowed her eyes at Ginny's silent response, watching as her friend folded her arms and leaned against the lockers.

Ginny’s relaxed attitude shifted into a scowl as she tipped her chin. “Check it out,” she said, prompting Hermione to turn around. 

Immediately, she understood what Ginny meant. There, at Draco's locker, Pansy stood as she accepted the home jersey he offered her. Pansy squealed, squeezed his shoulders, and shimmied into the top. Draco grinned down at her, clearly pleased with what he saw. His gaze drifted past Pansy and locked eyes with Hermione for the smallest of seconds before quickly shifting back to Pansy.

“Unbelievable,” Ginny mumbled, stepping behind her and resting her chin on Hermione’s shoulder, minding the back of her costume. “What a slimy roach.”

They both continued to watch as Pansy kissed Draco on the cheek and walked away, only to spin around and blow him a kiss.

“Ugh, that’s gross. Can you believe her?” Ginny muttered, clicking her tongue behind her teeth.

“Can you fucking believe him!” Hermione exclaimed, “What kind of shit is this?” She waved her hand in his direction, thinking about storming off to him, but thought better of it. 

“I’m going to class.”

Hermione's eyes lit up when she saw Tom and Abraxas walk into their shared class. Waving them over, she waited to grab Abraxas's shoulder before gushing over his costume.

"Oh my gosh, Abraxas! I really don't want this to get to your head, but wow, you look great as a king. This red velvet cape is doing wonders for you."

Abraxas burst out laughing. "You hear that, Tom? Wonders." He wiggled his eyebrows at Hermione. "Wait until my brother hears about this."

"Ugh!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "Don't bring him up." Hermione looked at Tom, a bright smile lighting up her face. "Wow, look at you, handsome. You make a perfect knight in shining armor."

Tom blushed deeply, nervously running his fingers through his hair. "Thank you, Hermione. You look stunning."

It was Hermione’s turn to flush at his compliment.

After they all sat down, Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she saw a mousey girl with thick glasses dressed as Velma from Scooby-Doo. She whispered, "Did you and Tom dress up as Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes from Romeo + Juliet? So adorable!"

“Hermione, if all you wanted was to stare at me," Tom said, turning away from his textbook, "You didn't need to wait until the Spanish project was assigned." He smirked, a dimple forming as he side-eyed her. "All you had to do was ask," he gently nudged her thigh under the table, "And I would be powerless to refuse." 

Hermione felt her face flush with embarrassment, caught in the act of staring. She knew she was unable to focus on their project; the stress and anger from the last few days had clogged her brain and consumed her thoughts.

She playfully smacked his upper arm, her hand sliding down his sleeve to rest on his forearm. Hermione sighed and looked away toward the Riddles' living room, where she saw the velvet terracotta couch. "I just can't concentrate right now, you know?" she said, swinging her gaze back to Tom and forcing a smile she knew didn't reach her eyes.

Tom looked at her hand, still on his forearm. Following his line of sight, Hermione gasped and pulled her hand back, but he quickly held her wrist. "Come with me," he said as he slowly stood, brushing his hand over her palm, curling his fingers around hers, and raising a brow, as if to tempt her.

She tilted her head with genuine curiosity, pushing away from the table and clutching his hand as he gave it a reassuring squeeze. With quiet confidence, he led her down the hallway and into a bedroom. Tom stepped inside, releasing her hand to move further, stopping in front of a black metal desk. He crouched down and opened the bottom drawer.

Hermione edged around the doorframe, taking in what she assumed was his space. The walls were painted a pale grey, with crown molding separating them from a violet so pale that the ceiling was pushing white. She watched as Tom rummaged through the drawers, the hem of his black shirt lifting slightly, revealing just a hint of green boxers above the waistline of his jeans.

Smirking to herself, Hermione turned her head toward the right side of his room, where his queen-sized bed was tucked into a corner. She was surprised to see the black and white sheets neatly tucked under the pillows, unlike the usual chaos she often saw in Draco's or even Abraxas's beds.

"Ah, here it is!" Tom suddenly stood up from the floor and shut the drawer with his hip. He twisted on the carpet toward her, shaking a plastic bag filled with joints, and raised his eyebrows.

She folded her hands across her chest and leaned against his doorway. Hermione shook her head slightly and laughed. “And how's that gonna help with Spanish?”

“It's not,” Tom winked, “but it's gonna to help you relax.” He walked over to his bed, pulled off his comforter, and approached Hermione. She stepped aside, and Tom looked down at her. “Follow me.”

Tom threw out the blanket, spreading it across the grass in his backyard. He plopped down, sinking onto his back and curling his right arm behind his head. With a smile, he patted the space next to him on the left, inviting Hermione to join him. She eased onto her back, bending one knee as she adjusted herself comfortably.

The soft click of Tom’s lighter broke the quiet, the tiny orange flame dancing in her peripheral vision. Soon, the aroma of the joint filled the air, a smoky scent that signaled relaxation as they passed it back and forth.

Hermione lifted her gaze, captivated by the night sky unfurling above her.

Its expanse stretched to the horizon, making her feel small and insignificant yet free. The vastness reminded her that there's a world beyond the confines of high school, her adolescence, and her best friend, who was acting stupid. The midnight blue gradually deepened into a rich violet, burning into the faint pink and orange hues of the setting sun still visible on the horizon. Her eyes returned to the endless blue, where stars shimmered like shards of broken glass scattered across the darkness.

"So, how familiar are you with Greek mythology?" Tom asked.

"Honestly, not much," Hermione replied, shrugging slightly as she looked at the darkening sky.

He untucked his arm from behind his head, stretching slightly, and then pointed toward the left at a cluster of stars, each shining brightly but with varying degrees of luminosity. "Look up there. Do you see the four stars that form a rough square?"

"Hmm, vaguely. Is the bottom left star right here?" she asked, raising her hand and pointing toward a spot in the sky that Hermione thought might be the correct position. Her eyes studied the faint glimmer of the stars there.

“Close,” Tom whispered softly, leaning in just a bit more as he gently took Hermione's hand in his. Guiding her with a tender touch, he moved her hand to the perfect spot. “Right there.” He carefully lowered their hands onto the blanket and let go, their palms just inches apart.

Hermione caught the faintest flutter of his pinky brushing against hers as he spoke, her eyes flickering to the side to watch his fingers move in sync with his words

“That's the constellation Pegasus. In Greek mythology, Pegasus is a winged horse that was born when Perseus beheaded Medusa. Apparently, he was born fully grown from her severed neck.” He softly tugged on one of her curls. “Your hair could easily be mistaken for snakes; it’s a good thing he’s not around.”

Hermione chuckled, swatting his hand away. “Oh, gee, thanks.”

He stifled a laugh under his breath, and their hands naturally found their way back to the blanket. “Perseus then went on to save Andromeda, as she was sacrificed by her father, King Cephus, to a sea serpent that was sent to attack their lands.”

“What! why?”

“Poseidon, ruler of the sea, didn’t like that King Cephus’s wife, Cassiopeia, claimed that her daughter Andromeda was more beautiful than the Nereids. The Nereids are sea nymphs and were basically like Poseidon’s little entourage of sea beauties, so he got pissed and had the sea serpent, Cetus, rage on King Cephus’s lands. The only way to stop Poseidon’s wrath was to sacrifice Andromeda, and the King did so by chaining her to a rock near the shoreline for the serpent. Luckily, Perseus was irresistibly drawn to the beautiful woman,” he paused, his eyes flicking to Hermione and back to the sky, “and just as Cetus emerged from the waters to devour Andromeda, Perseus arrived and slaughtered the sea serpent. Then, you know, happily ever after for him and Andromeda.”

“Ok, that’s pretty messed up. Wait, I think I see it now. Is Pegasus upside down?”

“Yeah, he is. Do you see the three stars on the top left that sort of look like his tail? That’s actually Andromeda.”

“Here’s a fun fact for you: Perseus is actually a demigod. He was the son of a mortal and Zeus, so he was only a half-god. In my opinion, I think Zeus was the worst god ever. You know, he was always trying to fuck and manipulate someone, including his siblings. Zeus ran so fuckboys could walk.”

Hermione let out an undignified snort, followed by giggling from her and Tom.

“I’m not kidding! He’s my absolute least favorite.”

“Then who’s your most favorite, if you had to pick?”

“It might be a typical answer, but I’d have to say Hades. I feel bad for him- he was the firstborn son and his titan ass dad, Chronos, swallowed him and his siblings whole—weird, I know, but this comes from the incestuous mythology, so that’s normal to them—and Zeus was the lastborn, and the only one who didn’t get gobbled up. His mom, Rhea, schmoozed up to his dad and pleaded for his case. I think the only good thing Zeus ever did was make his dad disgorge his siblings, and they all fought in the Titan War. Anyway, poor Hades was born, swallowed, spat back up, and then drew the unlucky straw to be King of the Underworld. It's not his fault he gets a bad rep.”

“Now, this is the only part of Greek mythology that I’m familiar with, but doesn’t Hades abduct Persephone and take her to the Underworld?”

“Ok, fine, so maybe he’s a little bit of a bad guy, but I stand behind my previous statement. Zeus is still a fuckboy and the absolute worst.”

“So if Hades is your favorite, are you gonna capture your own Persephone?”

Tom hummed, “I would like to hope that she would come to me out of her own free will.”

A few moments of silence pass, and Hermione gestures toward the night sky, clearing her throat. “You know, this feels awfully familiar to me. Lying on a blanket, looking at the stars, but sans the food.” She turns her head to him, raising her eyebrow.

“Hmm, I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Oh yeah? This doesn't seem familiar?” Hermione smiled coyly at him. “Tell me, Tom, are you perhaps trying to sweep me off my feet?” she asked playfully.

Hermione watches as he props himself up on his elbow, shifting his body onto his side so that his chest now presses against her arm. With his free hand, Tom runs his fingers through his dark, naturally tousled hair. His tongue slowly slid over his teeth, a subtle movement that accentuated his contemplative expression. His piercing blue eyes drifted down her face with a slow, deliberate gaze, pausing briefly on her lips before returning to meet her eyes.

“Is it working, Hermione?”

Her face flushes as she's stunned into silence, her heart no longer pounding against her chest, but seeming to travel down her stomach only to drop at her feet. She feels breathless at the thought of being wanted, especially by Tom, and a tingling sensation begins at her fingertips. Hermione turns her head and nods, causing a curl to fall over her face.

He leans over her, tucking her hair behind her ear. His fingers graze down her jaw, stopping beneath her chin. She sees his eyes flick down over the curve of her lips again, and suddenly her mouth feels dry, prompting her to dart her tongue out and lick her lips.

Tom laughs softly, “You don't know how badly I've been wanting to kiss you, Hermione.

Finding her voice, she whispers, “So do it.” 

With his fingers still resting under her chin, he cradled her jaw, drawing her closer. His soft lips met hers in a slow kiss, their movements smooth and unhurried. His hand found its way to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he tilted her face for a better angle. After a few small and tender kisses, Hermione went all in, opening her mouth and inviting Tom with a teasing stroke of her tongue. She felt herself melt into him, felt his want that built up until he could no longer take it, and needed to taste her after being hungry for so long. 

Hermione didn't care anymore. She didn't care about Draco. She didn't care that Pansy had what was once hers. She didn't care that she wanted someone she couldn't have, because it didn't matter anymore.

All that did was Tom, and she breathed him in like she needed him, kissed him like she wanted him, and he was there, meeting her every inch of the way.

Chapter Text

dear diary,

i know, i know

i’m sorry i haven’t written to you in a while, i guess i got busy with life, you know? well, i guess you don’t, actually, but whatever.

i just feel….

a little lost or something. maybe confused. 

kind of pissed. actually i’m really pissed.

so much has happened since i last wrote to you- i didn’t mean to keep you out of the loop but i’m here now and i just gotta get my feelings out and down or i just might E X P L O D E !!

these last few months i’ve just been out ~there~ you know? 

living

(i guess, i don’t know. at least i was, anyway)

and now i feel stuck in this goopy mess and i kind of don’t wanna leave my bed so i can just slowly slide off the bed and onto the floor where my goopy feelings and i will meld into one with the carpet.

i don’t even have anybody to talk to. 

ok, i lied, fine, you caught me. 

YEAH i guess i can talk to the girls. 

i can have lavender give me some boy advice or luna give me some profound insight into the boy brain or have gin say something snarky. 

but what i really want, is to talk to my best friend, my…..just my draco. 

but he’s not anymore, cause he’s a stupid boy with a stupid head and its attached to a stupid body and that stupid skull of his has a brain that’s only half!! working!! cause WHY is he going out with pansy??

i mean seriously, can you tell me why? 

how are we gonna go from best friends to….THIS

how are you gonna ask me to lose our virginities to each other, and have us kiss and put your hand in my pants with your stupid fingers in my vagina and you made me feel good and special and you didn’t even know what you were doing at first!!!! 

(ok, i didn’t either)

i even read though a cosmo for you, for fucks sake. i had your stupid penis in my mouth and what do i get for it??? 

I GET FEELINGS THAT I NEVER HAD BEFORE

we were friends and you thought this was a good idea and like i did it and i kept doing it and you kept doing your thing and i just wish your thing was also my thing because this thing made me realize that yeah OK i kindasortaokyes i like you!! 

i fucking like you draco and you’re stupid and supposed to be my best friend. and you fucking started acting like a boy!!!!!!!

a boy who asked PANSY out!!!

it’s like you forgot what you told me at theo’s party. 

like you forgot how beautiful you thought i was,

or how you couldn’t wait to be with me,

all the stupid sweet things you said.

maybe you’re not actually stupid and maybe it’s me. it’s probably me, i mean im the one here crying in my room after school LOL but not actually LOL cause im just *cries an ocean and drowns*

you know what hurts the most?

draco you didn’t even tell me. you looked at me and ignored me. 

like i’m nothing?

is this what happens in high school? i didn’t think it could happen to us. being a teenager is the absolute worst. 

i’d rather be ANYONE else right now. 

*knock knock* GOD ARE YOU THERE? it’s me, Hermione and i hate my feelings and i hate draco. 

take me back to august when we never kissed.

ugh whatever, im going to do my homework now. 

dear diary, (omg two entries in one day)

ok now that im more calm than earlier————

i have something new thing to tell you. 

i don’t even know if this makes anything better or worse but you know whos actually sweet?

tom. 

(yeah THAT tom, the tom that’s abraxas’ best friend and for a long time felt like he was my best friends older brother)

(ok yes i know i don’t have an older brother or any siblings, but i always felt like abraxas was my older brother…with the way he’s always annoying me and teasing me and his protective nature over me)

(so yeah, THAT tom)

i just wanna start by saying he’s so nice to me and sweet and kind. (i’ve always thought he was a total babe but don’t tell anyone) 

we were assigned a spanish project today and we asked each other to be partners- he sits next to me and i know he takes his work seriously so it was a perfect match you know? 

so anyway, we were working on our project at his house and ummmmm, ok so he was being sort of flirty??? (lav did say he was flirting at the pool hall with me- which by the way was a night draco ditched me for pansy)

(CRAP i guess i am dumb cause look what happened, i guess someone with more experience would of seen this from a mile away, omg anyways i dont want to talk about him anymore) 

ANYWAY so like, tom definitely could tell i wasnt paying attention to what we were doing, i mean how could anyone when their best friend slash person you kiss and almost get naked with decided to just blow you off and ask that skank to be your girlfriend?

anyway anyway anyway, you know what tom did?

he noticed, first of all. then he took me to his room to grab some joints and a blanket and we went outside. we smoked (diary, i don’t do this often so don’t yell at me) and we just looked at the stars and talked about the constellations and greek mythology.

and it was nice, and cute, and i won’t lie it sort of felt romantic? it felt like what he did for edmund for lavender and i sort of felt giddy and the way he was looking at me looked like he wanted to kiss me (i was right) 

he said like “you don’t know how badly i’ve wanted to kiss you”

and i told him to do it and it felt nice and it made me warm and wanted and special?

ugh 

i hate boys.