Second Chances

Disclaimer: Still not mine.




Draco awoke the next morning to a strange tickling sensation. He reluctantly opened one eye, not wishing to disturb the peaceful bliss that he was currently enjoying with Hermione’s slight figure draped across him. The sight that greeted him as he took in his surroundings was most off-putting to say the least. The large ginger cat had returned and was currently perched on his pillow, swatting playfully at Hermione’s coffee colored curls, flinging them about and causing several unruly strands to cover Draco’s nose and mouth. Gently brushing the strands from his face, he checked to be certain he hadn’t woken the sleeping witch before turning a sterner gaze to the cat.

“Crookshanks, was it?” he spoke quietly. “I suppose your soft-hearted mistress allows this sort of behavior, but if I’m to have any say, sleeping arrangements will definitely be renegotiated, and quickly. You\'ll soon learn to fear the wrath of a Malfoy.”

Crookshanks looked supremely unconcerned and unrepentant, settling his considerable weight upon the pillow next to Draco’s head and purring vibrantly as he turned his attentions to the silky blonde strands covering the area.

Hermione made a breathy little noise as her eyes fluttered open at the sound of purring. She blinked twice as she became aware of her current company and their state of undress and blushed furiously.

“Sleep well?” Draco inquired, a note of teasing smugness in his voice. “I know I did.” He tightened his arm around her waist as she attempted to roll away from him. “Don’t.” he said, more seriously.

“Don’t what?” she asked weakly, her red face buried in her pillow.

“Don’t feel badly about what happened last night.” He drew her closer, turning her face towards him. “It was wonderful and I feel honored that you trusted me enough to share it with me.” His voice was low and his eyes bored into hers, startlingly intense.

She smiled slightly, looking a bit uncomfortable, but also happy. He reached out and brushed a few stray curls from her face, tracing the contours of her face with smooth, aristocratic hands. She leaned in to the touch, snuggling close to him once more and sighing contentedly.

“It’s Saturday,” she said happily.

“Yes,” he replied with a quirk of his lips, amused by her simple statement of the obvious.

“Would you like to hang round a bit? Maybe?” she looked nervous that he would react badly to her invitation and he berated himself internally once more for treating her so poorly for so long.

“I’d love to,” he replied smoothly. “Do you have any plans?”

“We could go into Diagon Alley; maybe do some window shopping, have lunch.”

“Sounds perfect,” he smiled at her, pleased that she wasn’t in a hurry to push him out the door. He honestly couldn’t care less what they did. She still looked a bit ill-at-ease, so he decided to give her some privacy and a little time to sort out her feelings.

“Why don’t I meet you back here in an hour or so?” he offered, kissing her lightly and continuing to gently stroke her face.

She nodded. “That sounds perfect.” She was relieved to have some time alone, just a little bit of time to adjust to the new events. She watched as he rose from the bed, kissing her once more and walking to the door, unconcerned with his nudity. She watched appreciatively as he left the room, rolling over and sighing into her pillow.

She heard the sounds of him dressing and the door closing as he left, waiting for the noises to stop before dragging herself from the bed and heading for the shower. Luxuriating in the spray of the hot water, she let the memories of the previous evening fill her mind. She dragged the sponge filled with a lavender-scented soap over her body.

Her blood began to pound faster as she moved her hands over her body, dropping the sponge and leaning back against the wall for support. She could feel Draco’s hands roaming gently over her body, remembering the intensity of his silvery eyes as his flaxen hair surrounded them when he leaned over her. Her hand dropped lower, parting her folds and finding a slickness that had nothing to do with the water sluicing over her body.

As she began to explore herself, pushing a finger into her slick channel and circling another over her clit, she allowed Draco’s face to fill her mind. Draco’s tongue lapping at her, his kisses raining all over her body, his expression as she took his swollen erection into her mouth. It had turned her on more than she could have ever imagined to lick and suck at his arousal. The helpless jerking of his hips as he came was the image filling her brain as she came with a shuddering gasp in the shower.

She pushed off the wall slowly and resumed her shower. The physical side of their relationship was definitely not going to be a problem, she mused to herself wryly. She could barely think straight around him, his physical presence totally intoxicating to her. Honestly, she was falling for Draco Malfoy in a way she had never expected.

It wasn’t purely physical either, she realized as she rinsed conditioner from her long hair. He had been very thoughtful ever since she had begun seeing him a few weeks ago, escorting her to Harry’s dinner party last night just one example of many comprises he’d made that she was certain the old Draco Malfoy would never have considered. It had been more than evident that he had little desire to spend the evening with her friends, and she could hardly blame him. There was no love lost between any of them. But the same could be said of Hermione and Draco several weeks ago and they had now more than made peace. Once he had seen how much it meant to her he had caved in, grumbling and muttering under his breath, but she knew he wasn’t actually put out with her.

She was actually quite pleased with the powers of persuasion she had discovered that she held over him. She’d never considered herself especially gifted in the department of feminine wiles so she was enjoying her exploration of them with Draco.

She dressed quickly, pulling on her favorite pair of jeans and a plum-colored top in a thin, soft, stretchy material. She quickly piled her hair up in a loose knot and applied what little makeup she usually wore, heading to the kitchen to eat a quick breakfast.

The knock sounded at the door just as she finished. Dumping the dishes into the sink with a scouring charm, she hurried to meet Draco.

* * * * *


Hermione tried unsuccessfully to control the laughter building within her and it burst from her lungs as Draco looked at her indignantly over the table they were sharing in a tiny bistro.

“It was most certainly not funny. I believe I was fortunate to live through it actually,” he scolded her, even as a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. He had just finished recounting his experiences with muggle electricity during his period of exile. She found his experiences with hair appliances especially amusing, specifically his description of a sparking hairdryer that set fire to his prized hair. She was filled with visions of the unflappable aristocrat shrieking as he worked frantically to quench the flames and soothe the singed strands.

They had been having a wonderful time all day, browsing through each of their favorite shops, idly chatting and exchanging memories that surfaced during the day. They spent an inordinate amount of time in Flourish and Blotts, poring over rows of books together and discussing the relative merits and flaws of various volumes. The banter got heated on a few occasions, as Hermione tended to get a bit fierce in her defense or critique of certain writings and Malfoy was not one to admit defeat easily.

In the end he insisted on purchasing several volumes for her, books that he insisted “any well-read witch or wizard must know.” She had rolled her eyes at his words, but was touched by his thoughtful gift, noting that all of the books did in fact look quite fascinating.

They had been planning on having lunch while out, but the hours had flown by and it was late afternoon before they had made it to the restaurant and sat down to eat. Once they did they discovered they were both ravenous, and had since worked through starters, entrees and were currently enjoying dessert.

Hermione sat back in her chair sighing. “That was wonderful. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

Draco arched a pale eyebrow at this, pointedly looking at the empty dishes surrounding her. “You don’t say. You know for such a tiny little thing…”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence Draco Malfoy,” she interrupted him, swatting at his arm. “Besides, you ate just as much as I did,” she finished in a satisfied tone, pleased that she had made her point.

“Yes, but,” Draco was about to point out that he was roughly a foot taller and weighed a great deal more when the expression on her face stopped him. “You’re right, of course,” he finished meekly.

He signaled to the waiter for the check and paid, leaving a generous tip for their attentive server. They headed back to Hermione’s flat, where she invited him in and they collapsed on the sofa, too exhausted and full of food to consider activity. She pointed her wand at the fireplace, sparking a roaring fire, and they curled up together, enjoying the quiet companionship.

Hermione reflected once more on how much she had come to enjoy Draco’s company, then drifted to sleep in his arms once more, only halfway waking when he carried her into the bedroom once more and tucked her in gently.