Second Chances

Disclaimer: Not mine.


Hermione and Draco spent the next few weeks gradually getting to know each other, accompanying each other in some of their standard activities. Draco found himself spending more time with Potter and Weasley than he could have ever expected, and Hermione even spent a tense evening with some of his friends, at least the ones he trusted in her presence. The gradual mingling of their social lives was often slightly awkward, but happily uneventful for the most part. They spent nearly every evening together, cooking together or going out, usually ending with an extended snogging session and both of them winding up in various stages of undress.

For the last few days, however, Hermione had been bombarded with work. She’d had a difficult file passed her way and had been working around the clock to straighten out the client’s situation. Even the goblins, never ones to discourage long hours, had begun to worry that she was becoming overworked. After several days of seeing neither hide nor hair of his girlfriend, Draco decided to take matters into his own hands.

As the Malfoy head swept through her division of Gringotts, he was met with curious looks from her coworkers. The distinctive platinum head came to a stop in front of a desk piled high with papers and files, a brunette head just barely evident over the top of the mess.

“Granger,” came a demanding voice from in front of her desk.

She straightened, surprised, and looked up to see Draco looking down at her, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Looking lovely as ever, I see.” His eyes traveled deliberately across her form, from the dark circles under her eyes and wilder-than-usual curls, to the shapeless, wrinkled shirt stained with ink.

Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Look, Malfoy,\" she began, spitting out his name as though it were poisonous, \"It’s been a hard enough day without you invading my office simply to insult me. Feel free to move along unless you have something useful to contribute.” She spoke crossly, folding her arms defiantly over her chest and glaring at him sharply.

He smiled at that. “I did in fact have a plan in mind, now that you mention it. Let’s go.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not going anywhere. I have work to do. Lots of it. Not all of us live the priveleged life of the sole heir to the Malfoy estate. Unlike you, I have a job to do, and if I don\'t do it well, I lose it. Next thing you know, I\'m unemployed, homeless, and looking a lot more disheveled than I do at the moment.” She looked ruefully at the piles on her desk.

Draco opened his mouth to retaliate just as a squatty but intimidating goblin waddled over. “Miss Granger, I’ll be finishing up this case. You’re to get some rest. Immediately,” the little goblin added, seeing the gleam of protest in Hermione’s eyes. With that the goblin marched away, muttering none too softly. Draco distinctively heard the phrases “lack of common sense” and “collapsing at her desk.” He turned back to Hermione and watched as she blearily shuffled around, collecting her coat and bag.

He followed her out. “Well, that was easier than I thought it would be,” he remarked to her, waiting for the flare of irritation to show in her expression. Instead, she continued trudging out of the building, staring ahead blankly.

“There was no need for you to collect me, nor for me to be sent home like a child,” she finally replied.

“Oh?’ inquired Draco, not bothering to hide his skepticism. “What, may I ask, did that goblin mean by “collapsing at her desk?”

Her face became defensive. “I didn’t collapse, I was just resting my eyes.”

He studied her carefully as they walked. All teasing aside, he was concerned for her. He knew her work ethic, it had been obvious ever since Hogwarts. Taskmaster was an understatement in describing her. She went after projects with wild determination and as soon as she had mentioned an especially difficult case he had known she would be running herself into the ground rapidly.

He reached out for her arm, holding her gently as he apparated them to the Manor. “Lunch is waiting for us,” he spoke as he led her into the dining room, politely ignoring the growls of her stomach at the mention of food. They sat, eating together in silence as Draco waited for her to speak.

“I’m surprised that you can stand looking at me, being that I’m evidently so unattractive at the moment,” she told him hotly, once she had finished eating.

He sighed inwardly. “I never used the word unattractive, though you do look like hell at the moment. I only meant to draw attention to the fact that your appearance is cause for concern. You’ve obviously not been sleeping or spending any time away from the office.” He spoke slowly and carefully, as though to a temperamental child.

She looked as though she were about to argue. “I’m fine,” she began, then trailed off as her eyelids began to droop and she slumped forward.

“Obviously,” he replied to himself, walking over and apparating her to his bedroom, laying her on the bed, removing her shoes and heading to his study, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

* * * * * *


Hermione awoke many hours later, peering around the darkened room, taking in her surroundings. She breathed deeply, catching the clean, warm scent of Draco on the bedclothes and smiling to herself. She stretched in place, enjoying the feel of the luxurious fabrics. She sat up slowly and pushed out of bed, padding over to the door to search for him.

After several minutes of wandering she found him seated in the study, poring over a pile of documents. She watched him silently for several minutes, noting the frown of concentration and deft movements of his hands as he made notes over the papers. Her observations were finally interrupted by his own voice.

“Did you get some rest?” She startled slightly, pushing away from the doorframe and walking over to him.

“I did,” she replied simply, settling into his lap as he turned towards her in his deskchair. “I’m sorry if was a bit difficult earlier.”

He arched an eyebrow at this. “If? That\'s optimistic of you.” He held up a hand to stop her as she opened her mouth to argue. “But I’ve come to expect nothing less from you. I’d have been more concerned if you had given it without a fight,” he finished dryly.

She looked as though she were trying not to smile at this, bending forward to brush her lips against his cheek. “I’m feeling better now,” she informed him quietly.

“Are you now?” He pulled her to him once more, wrapping his arms around her and leaning down for another kiss.

“I need to go home to freshen up a bit,” she said, pulling away and wrinkling her nose at her mussed appearance.

He scooped her up, ignoring her protestations and carrying her back into his bedroom suite, past the room she’d been in before and into the large tiled bathroom. Flicking on a few of the taps with his wand, he set her gently on the edge of the tub, which was rapidly filling. “No need to go home. I’ll have the elves lay out clothes for you to choose from when you finish bathing.” He stood, kissing her on the forehead and leaving her to bathe.

She undressed quickly, sinking into the warm, foamy water. As she let the water soothe her aching back and shoulder muscles, she realized how much tension she had been carrying from sitting at a desk nearly 24 hours a day.

“Draco,” she called, hoping he was within earshot. A few moments later, she heard a knock at the door.

“Hermione?” came the muffled voice. “Did you need something?”

“Could you come in here?” she asked sweetly, knowing he was waiting for her permission. Despite the intimacy they had shared, he was still very respectful of her privacy, careful not to take anything for granted, despite the innuendo and teasing between them.

The door opened and he entered slowly, his steely eyes darkening as they moved over her wet, naked form, or at least the parts not covered by the foamy bubbles. She was seated in the massive tub, lying back with one shapely leg propped on the edge.

“Would you rub my back for me?” she asked, looking up at him coyly through her lashes and turning so that he could reach her shoulders.

“With pleasure,” he replied, removing his robe and rolling up his shirtsleeves as he moved to the edge of the tub. He pushed her wet curls aside, watching fascinated and she piled them atop her head and secured them with a clip she’d been wearing earlier. He reached for her shoulders, finding the skin very heated and damp from the bathwater.

Hermione sighed as he began kneading her neck and shoulders. His hands were smooth and strong, and moved surely along her tender muscles and she could feel the tension leaving her body. She moaned lightly and he felt the stirrings of arousal as she relaxed into her touch.

“That’s all I can reach from here,” Draco informed her quietly, an unspoken question in his voice as she turned to face him again.

“Then I guess you’ll have to come closer,” she replied mischeviously.

Draco stripped quickly under her watchful eyes, noting the darkening of her coffee-colored eyes as he exposed his bare form to her. He slid into the bath behind her and once again settled his hands on her back. She leaned back into his arms, apparently unconcerned with the continuation of her back massage.

Her breathy sighs and moans of appreciation had awakened certain portions of his anatomy and he groaned as she leaned back against him. Her skin was silky and warm as it slid against his and it all felt amazing. She turned in his arms and draped herself across him, her breasts sliding against his muscled chest. She leaned in, covering his mouth with her own and deepening the kiss.

He let the sensations wash over him as she slid against him, probing his mouth with her gentle tongue. These were the times he enjoyed most, when she became aggressive and let her inhibitions go, initiating the contact she desired. There was something about seeing the prim witch overcome by passion and desire that got his blood pumping, heating his entire body with longing for her. He loved watching her come apart in his arms and holding her as she came back to earth.

She pulled her knees to either side of his body, her heart racing as she looked into his eyes, now the color of liquid mercury. The intensity of his eyes made her heart race, causing tiny tremors of anticipation to race through her body. She moved smoothly against him, gasping at the feeling of his lean frame laid out, slippery against her. As the ache in her center grew, she pressed her core into him, sighing at the relief and reveling in his quiet moan as she brushed against his throbbing erection.

She pulled his hand down to her folds, pressing his fingers into her and rocking against his hand. He parted her gently, pressing one finger into her hot core while rubbing her clit lightly with another. She threw her head back, small whimpers escaping her lips as she continued rocking against him, arching her back.

He gaped at the erotic sight of the tiny, deliciously curvy witch undulating above him, riding his hand with abandon, feeling his cock twitching in response. As she panted and writhed, her breathing becoming irregular, he leaned and whispered to her in the manner that he had learned she enjoyed.

“Feel good, baby?’ he ground out in a strained tone. “Do you like feeling my fingers pushing into you, stroking your hot, slippery pussy while you ride me shamelessly? You’re so close I can feel it. If we weren’t in the bath you’d still be dripping, hot and wet. I love watching you like this, so turned on you can’t do anything but give in use me the way your body tells you, your gorgeous tits bouncing while I finger your tight, wet pussy.”

She let out a strangled moan at this and he felt her slick canal gripping him, pulsing rhythmically around his fingers. He watched her in amazement and almost came from the sight alone, feeling his arousal build to a dangerous level. She collapsed against him, gasping for breath and burying her face in his neck. He held her there, stroking her back and arms and waiting for shivering to stop.

Suddenly Draco felt a hand work between their bodies, grasping his painfully hard cock, and sucked in a gasp of breath. Her hand curled around him, stroking lightly at first, and then more forcefully as his hips began to rock. He thrust into her hand, already very close from watching her, feeling her against him. She brushed her thumb over the slit of his erection several times and his hips jerked helplessly as he came, shooting his release into the bathwater with a shuddering moan.

He slumped over, willing his heart rate to slow to normal as he breathed heavily. She curled up to him once more, peppering his face with kisses.

“I suspect it may be time to get out of the bath now,” she noted dryly.

He snickered at this and pulled her to her feet along with him. They stepped out of the big tub and he muttered cleaning charms over both of them to remove any of his lingering release. Wrapping her in a fluffy towel and quickly drying himself, they walked into the bedroom to dress for a late dinner.