The Plan

Chapter 4: The Agreement

When Hermione woke up, Malfoy’s arm was draped across her stomach and his hand was cupping her breast. Aside from the lovely ache between her legs, she felt very confused. She remembered the night before very clearly. Both times, actually. And after casting a birth control spell right away, the two had dozed off. Only hours later they had awoken and without a word to each other, their bodies came together in delicious, lazy passion.

What Hermione was really confused about was, what it all meant. What happened next? She’d had sex with her husband but it was more problematic than it sounded. They weren’t truly married and there had always been that firm line of mutual dislike between them. Not having that boundary in place anymore made things… complicated. How was she supposed to act?

She’d just had the best sex of her life and it was for all the wrong reasons. How did she mess it all up so badly?

“Granger?” Draco mumbled sleepily as he snuggled closer to her side. She turned her head and looked at him. “I can tell something is wrong. You’re all tense. What is it?”

Sometimes she hated that he could read her so well.

“We slept together.”

“Yes. Trust me, I remember.” He blinked up at her for a moment before closing his eyes again and pressing his lips to her bare shoulder. His teeth gently skimmed over the milky flesh and she shivered in response.

“Yes but, now what?”

“What do you mean?” Hermione sighed and turned to face him, their bodies briefly making contact.

“I mean, what are we going to do? We just go on with our lives, our fake marriage, and pretend it didn’t happen? I don’t know about you but I’m not sure I can just ignore it like that.”

She felt strange confessing to him. When the words were out of her mouth, it sounded like she wanted something from him. But she didn’t, not at all. She just knew, without a doubt, that them having been intimate would completely change their relationship. Not necessarily for the better and not necessarily for the worse, but it would change. She needed him to be aware of that. And she needed him to lie and tell her she was wrong. She didn’t want it to change.

“You think too much.” He said. Annoyed, Hermione tried to wiggle out of his grasp but he held tight, letting out a heavy sighed. She obviously wasn‘t in the mood this morning. “I never expected you to ignore it. I can’t either.”

They were quiet then, the only sounds in the room their light breathing. Hermione could see the rays of sun peaking through the thick curtains draped over the pane glass window. She wondered what time it was. She wondered what Malfoy was thinking. She wondered what her friends would do if they found out and she wondered if she could even hide it from them.

She just wondered.

“I haven’t had sex since we got married.” His voice surprised her and their eyes met again.

“What?” His statement threw her completely off guard. She’d just assumed from the beginning that he slept around. Hell, it was only weeks ago she’d walked in on him and the waitress girl in the hallway.

“I haven’t. I tried, the night that you… saw me. But when that turned out to be a bust I just decided not to do it anymore. I don’t know why.”

She wasn’t sure what to say to that. She herself had been faithful as well, it went without saying. But hearing that he hadn’t been with another woman in months made her feel oddly fluttery. It didn’t make any sense.

“I have another proposition,” He declared. “I suggest we keep doing this.” Hermione furrowed her brows at him. He smiled slightly and ran his hand over her collarbone, between her breasts, and down to her stomach as he spoke.

“We continue on with an intimate relationship while we are married. It benefits us both and we can still carry out the plan. What do you say?”

His hand, that had since traveled to caress her thighs, was highly distracting and made her want to shout ‘yes, yes, YES’ on the rooftops, but her mind refused to give in that quickly. A sexual relationship with Malfoy? Would that be wise? Then again, she’d already married him so what harm could it do? A lot, but, she didn’t really want to think of that now.

“Granger, stop thinking and start doing.” And then his lips were on hers, his hand in between her legs.

“Okay.” She whispered. He grinned and rewarded her by stroking his thumb over her clit.

The next two hours were spent fulfilling the terms of their new deal.

---

Naturally, things felt awkward at first; random blushes, clearings of the throat, forced smiles. But it didn’t take long before they started to relax around one another. Their intimate relationship was exactly what Draco had said it would be: beneficial. They released stress, felt more calm and even started to get along better.

Well, not that much better. They still fought, of course. That was inevitable between them. But it was somehow different from before. Less personal, more routine. And their arguments had become advantageous as well. It was Draco’s new favorite tactic to get Hermione riled up and then fuck her against some random hard surface.

Not that she minded.

All in all, it had really helped them. And it was their little secret. After her lunch with Harry, Hermione was very reluctant to tell anyone the truth. She felt like a hypocrite. She’d spent hours thinking about how she didn’t want her friends to think bad of her because she’d kissed Malfoy and then right after that, she slept with him.

In the end, they both decided that keeping it under wraps was the best idea. Not even Narcissa knew, though, Hermione was certain the woman would have to be deaf not to hear them at night.

They still stuck with the plan and their sexual connection didn’t do anything to change that. But as time went by, no new information emerged. They’d finally searched the Ministry, as thoroughly as they could, but they didn’t find anything. They’d followed a few Ministry officials and had a few leads and again, they came up empty handed.

“Did you see the Profit?” Draco asked, coming into Hermione’s small office. It had been cleaned up nicely since her breakdown. In fact, it was as immaculate as ever, something Draco loved to tease her about.

“Yes.”

He came and sat in the chair beside hers, angling it to face her way. Their closeness had become familiar, comforting, and generally warm.

“What do you think?”

The top stories were always the same. The Ministry donating money to this, the Ministry rebuilding that, the Ministry supporting children and hospitals and schools and…

“I think… we have to face some facts.” Draco leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his eyes locked on hers. “The new Ministry isn’t as bad as we wanted to believe they were.” She said.

And it was the truth. The new Ministry was not the old one. In the end, they were good people trying to do good things with more than good intentions. There wasn’t much corruption and, for the most part, they were completely honest with the people. Hermione, though she loathed to admit it, was impressed and awed at their work thus far.

“I think you’re right.”

They didn’t say anything more as they sat together getting lost in their thoughts. Draco absently drew circles on Hermione’s thigh and her foot brushed against his calf as she bobbed it, a nervous habit of hers, he‘d noticed.

Without another word they both got up and headed out of the office, off to lunch. Spending their lunch break together had become a common occurrence but sometimes, when they walked down the busy halls, they still got the curious looks from bystanders. It had been months since the two had been married and most people had finally accepted them together, fully believing they were in love with each other. But there were still those few who couldn’t seem to wrap their heads around it; couldn’t quite trust it.

Hermione and Draco ignored the stares as they made their way out of the building. In the back of their minds, the curious, skeptical attention was a good thing because it reminded them that it wasn‘t real. And sometimes, they did have to be reminded.

---

Stagnancy seemed to be the theme of the next couple of months. No matter how long and how hard they worked at it, trying to blackmail the Ministry was becoming a losing battle. If there was any sort of damning information in existence, Hermione and Draco sure couldn’t find it. So they were stuck.

And in more than one way.

With a new aspect of their relationship came new realizations within themselves. New, strange feelings had definitely developed and they weren‘t quite certain how to deal with it.

It wasn’t love. Not even close, not for either of them. But they could, generally, stand to be around each other and they had phenomenal sex.

That wasn’t the best basis for anything really but it was where they were at. They kissed, argued, fucked, laughed, cried, teased, yelled, smiled, and so much more.

Were they happy?

The jury was still out on that one.

While Hermione and Draco struggled through their feelings, society prospered around them. Considering most people had chosen to abide by the marriage legislation, many new couples emerged, and with weddings and marriage, babies followed soon after.

What was most noticeable, more than anything else, was that people seemed to be… content. Joyful, even. Everything was getting better all around them. It was shocking and confusing but it was also the truth, plain as day.

Most of the marriages were working out fairly well and the Wizarding Word was healing. St. Mungos returned to full capacity, Hogwarts re-opened, people had jobs and homes.

Good things were happening to their community. And yet, Draco couldn’t help but feel resentful.

He’d wanted them to fail. He’d wanted the Ministry to come crashing down because of their audacious reforms. And instead, they’d succeeded beyond expectation.

Then there was his Granger problem. He wasn’t supposed to actually start liking the bint. She started out as a means to an end. Now? She was amusing, beautiful, lively, passionate, fiery, and she definitely kept him on his toes. If he’d been in any other situation with any other woman he would have said those were the perfect qualities for a Malfoy wife.

But he wasn’t with anyone else. He was with Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Mudblood, and he was… pleased.

That was what probably pissed him off more than anything.

“Draco?” Her voice drifted from the front room. They’d grown used to calling each other by their first names since it was appropriate to do in public. Without them even realizing it, it had just carried over.

“In the kitchen.”

“Wow, it smells delicious.” She stepped through the swinging door and they shared a smile before Draco went back to stirring his pasta sauce. It had surprised Hermione that he knew how to cook but, with his appreciation for food came his love for the art of making it. She wasn’t complaining, she was a horrible cook.

No conversation followed. They didn’t need to constantly talk to each other to feel comfortable. Really, just being in the presence of one another seemed to help them feel quite at ease. Draco attributed it to the fact that they’d lived together for months, sharing the house, sharing their bed. That would have made any two people become closer.

His reasoning was more of a rationalization than anything else and he knew he was lying to himself.

He felt Hermione behind him, her body heat warming his back just as the stove warmed his front. She pressed herself against him ever so slightly and sniffed over his shoulder. Her sigh of pleasure sent a jolt straight to his groin.

“If you don’t get out of my way, I’ll fling the sauce at you.” He teased.

Hermione laughed in his ear and her breath teased the sensitive skin on the nape of his neck. He loved the feel of her breathing on him; it made his body quiver and his balls tighten. But that was most things she did.

“As long as you lick it off.”

That was all he needed. Setting the wooden spoon aside, he turned and captured her in his arms, molding his lips to her soft, luscious ones. She tasted like coffee and heaven and he pulled her closer. The kiss was slow but deep and it wasn’t long before they were forced to part for air. He placed his forehead against hers, a sly smile creeping onto his face.

“What are you doing?” She asked as he slid his hands down to her waistband. He didn’t answer her, only lowered himself to his knees and pulled down her pants. His nose trailed across her skin all the way down to her neatly trimmed pubic hair. He submerged himself into it, inhaling deeply. Her scent drove him wild, more than any woman he’d ever been with.

“Draco! Not in the k-kitchen.” Her voice caught when he gently nipped at her mound. He eased her pants down just a bit farther, enough so he could see her glistening lips. The sight made him groan. His body wanted him to stand up, take off his own trousers, and pound into her madly against the counter. But his mind, it had other ideas.

Torture was oh, so sweet.

His tongue swiped at her leisurely and she bucked against him, forcing him backward. Grabbing her hips, he steadied her movements and tasted her deeper. Her juices smeared on his face and he stopped to lick his lips, not wanting to miss a drop of her sweetness. Her fingers found their way to his hair and every time she yanked, he rewarded her with a pinch.

One hand dragged down to her thigh and he spread her wider. He feasted on his treasure like he was a starving man and, when it came to her, he felt like he always was. His want never died, his fired never burnt out. Not for her. In the mornings, he’d wake her up, take her slowly, and then leave for his day. Within an hour, he was zoning out imagining having her on every surface of his office. His need was constant.

So was hers.

She jerked against his mouth, her moans filling the empty kitchen. The sounds she made were almost as satisfying as the feel of her body under his.

He was pushed back against the stove from the force of her thrusts. He didn’t mind. Circling his tongue over her clit, he drove her to the edge over and over again.

“Draco… Draco… please.” She whimpered. He knew that the fact that she didn’t have anything filling her was pure torment and he grinned at her suffering. The best part was, he knew she’d pay him back. And he couldn’t wait.

“Draco faster! Drac-what is that smell?”

He wasn’t sure he heard her right. Not until she screamed anyway. And it wasn’t a scream of pleasure, either.

“You’re on fire!”

He jumped up, immediately feeling the burning on the back of his head. Frantically, they patted out his singed blond locks, cringing at the putrid smell of burnt hair.

It wasn’t much, just a few strands. She’d been so enthusiastic, she’d pushed him back into the stove, which happened to be on.

Draco looked at her furiously for a moment and she couldn’t help herself; she burst out laughing. He wasn’t as amused and he kept rubbing the back of his head, making sure his hair was still there.

“It’s fine, you woman.” She said, running her hands through it. It still felt silky smooth and she told him so. That seemed to help because he smiled slightly.

“You wench. I was being so good by trying to pleasure you and look what happened? I knew you’d make me start to lose my hair.” She laughed again and reached behind him to turn off the stove.

“I’m sorry. Looks like I’ll just have to make it up to you.”

And she did, twice before they actually ate dinner.