Title: Invitations
Author: S. E. Spotwood
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Word count: 18,589
Summary: It’s been nine years since Hermione was a student at Hogwarts. She has a good life; a loving husband and a beautiful little girl. When an invitation arrives by owl, Hermione reminisces about the spring of her seventh year and the invitations that changed her life forever.
Rating: NC-17 for explicit sex
Beta: sapphyre_twins. Thanks girl, you’re a love! Not Brit picked...please forgive me.
Disclaimer: Not trying to steal them, just want to play with them for a while. ;)
Warning: Not your typical snarky Draco.
Feedback: I thrive on it! I would soo appreciate a comment after you read.
Special thanks to anyone reading this who commented on my Same Time Next Week DM/HG fic.
You all made me glow!
feel free to email me anytime at feawen@gmail.com with ?\'s/suggestions/comments
Edit: stupid me...it was pointed out that Luna, as a Ravenclaw could not be on the Quid team...so, she\'s been replaced by Dennis Creevey...Quid material in canon or not.
Also, a comment was made regarding condoms being for Muggles....these were \"magical\" condoms...er yeah, magical condoms, that\'s it. lol.
Thanks for the concrit.

Invitations

S. E. Spotwood

The delightful sound of birds chirping filled Hermione’s ears. A warm, spring breeze tickled her nose as she sipped her tea and watched her almost three year old daughter, Magnolia, chasing a butterfly. Her husband was enjoying one of his favorite pastimes; pulling out the weeds from amongst the bright spring flowers bursting pleasurably in their garden. Every now and then he would wipe his brow, pushing his fringe out of his eyes and Hermione would shiver down to her toes.

They were happy together, very happy. Although she had known him for more than half her life and been his wife and best friend for almost six years now, her heart still flipped when he smiled at her that certain way. They had a very passionate, very loving relationship. He knew the exact word to whisper in her ear to drench her panties.

He had always been an attractive boy, but he had grown into a breathtakingly gorgeous man. ‘Film star gorgeous’, Hermione would often tell him. Playing professional Quidditch for six years after school had gifted him with the body of a Greek god. Even though he had worked for the Ministry of Magic as the Head of the Department for Magical Games and Sports for the past three years, he still worked out often to maintain his athletic physique. Whenever they went into town, witches young and old would shamelessly ogle him. He would nod or smile politely and wrap his arm tightly around his wife. Hermione loved that.

The wizarding world had been at peace for over ten years. In February, 1997 Harry, accompanied by Albus Dumbledore and several aurors and members of the Order of the Phoenix, defeated Voldemort once and for all. The battle was fierce. There were casualties on both sides. On their side, Kingsley Shaklebolt, Emmaline Vance, and an Auror by the name of Terrence Bard were fatally wounded. Death Eaters among the fatalities that triumphant day were Goyle Sr., Rodolphus Lestrange, his wife Bellatrix and Lucius Malfoy, second in command to Voldemort himself.

The reaction of the surviving Death Eaters was so reminiscent of Wizard of Oz,at it was almost laughable. With rare exception, they were so grateful to be free from the clutches of their Dark Lord, Hermione half anticipated them to bow to Harry and offer him Voldemort’s broomstick as a reward. She had bowed to him herself and joked, “Hail! Hail to Dorothy! The Wicked Witch is dead!” Then they danced around together as they both sang a chorus of, “Ding Dong! The Witch is dead.”

“Shouldn’t that be wizard? And who the bloody hell is Dorothy?” Ron had asked, not getting the joke, of course. Harry and Hermione had shared in the humor, however and guffawed. Ron called them a pair of nutters.

Hermione bit into a lemon biscuit and the sharp tang jerked her back from the past. She sighed happily. Life was good.

“Mommy, an owl’s coming,” yelled Maggie from across the yard.

“So I see, love.” Hermione smiled at her daughter. “That’ll be the invitation,” she added cheerfully.

“I still can’t believe Jamie Potter is going to be five years old,” Hermione said to Draco as he approached the table, Maggie at his heels.

“Daaaaddy, I gotta go,” Magnolia whined, dancing on the spot.

Hermione chuckled. “You better take her, daddy.”

He patted Maggie on the behind. “Go on sweat pea, Daddy’s right behind you,” he assured her, then leaned down to nibble his wife’s ear. The small girl ran across the lawn, bright blonde curls bouncing merrily behind her.

“Now, you know she can’t get the bathroom door opened by herself, love,” Hermione reminded her husband. “She’ll have an accident.”

“I’m going. I’m going,” he drawled, “but we’ll continue this when I return.”

“I love you,” she shouted across the yard.

“Not half as much as I love you,” Draco sang in reply.

Hermione watched him until he was out of sight. She truly loved him more everyday. She glanced down at the invitation to Harry and Ginny Potter’s son’s fifth birthday party and was reminded of the invitations that had changed her life forever.

******

When seventh year began, most people were still riding the post-war high, times were good at last. She, naturally, was named Head Girl and to Harry and Ron’s sheer horror, Draco Malfoy was named Head Boy. Hermione wasn’t surprised. Draco always made excellent grades, almost as high as Hermione’s...almost.

Hermione was actually happy for Draco, although, she wouldn’t admit it to the boys. He had gone through a hard time after his father’s funeral. He stopped eating, stopped sleeping and wound up spending a week in the infirmary, suffering from sheer exhaustion. For the remainder of their sixth year, he was very quiet and withdrawn.

A few days before the end of term in sixth year, Hermione ran into Draco in Remus’ office. She had been invited for tea. She was surprised to find Draco there, but even more surprised by the fact that he was sobbing. He was horrified to be discovered by her and bolted from the room wordlessly.

When Hermione questioned why Draco had come to Remus and not gone to Professor Snape; Remus said he had approached Draco. He gave her a line about wanting to help him because he was technically part of Sirius’ family.

“Sirius would have helped him...if he was alive,” Remus had said. Hermione could still hear the pain in Remus’ voice whenever he spoke of Sirius. He missed his mate desperately.

She didn’t think Remus was being dishonest about his reason for helping Draco. Remus was a very kind, caring man and it wasn’t surprising that he would try to help Draco turn his life around, but she knew there was more to it. Hermione knew something that almost no one knew; it was Remus who had shot the curse which ended Lucius Malfoy’s life. He confessed this to her one Saturday evening. She had come to visit with him in his private quarters and discovered that he had drank almost an entire bottle of scotch. He told her that Albus had wiped the memories of all others present to protect Remus from Death Eater retaliation. Not even Harry or the other Order members knew.

Hermione and Remus had formed a close companionship over the course of her sixth year. They corresponded often that summer. He told her he had been meeting with Draco once a week for lunch and that he was doing much better. Remus even made arrangements through a friend of a friend for Draco to try out for the Montrose Magpies. A week later, Hermione received an owl from an absolutely elated Remus, informing her that the coach of the Magpies was swept away with Draco’s Quidditch abilities and offered him the Seeker position beginning two weeks after graduation. As luck would have it, their current Seeker, Bryce MacDermot, was retiring at the end of this season.

Hermione was pleasantly surprised to see Draco when seventh year began. He was back to his previous weight, but seemed to have developed a man’s body over the summer, due to his Quidditch training she assumed.

During their first Head meeting, after Draco addressed her as Granger, Prof. McGonagall suggested (well, it was more of an order) that it was about time for them to be on a first name basis.

“The Head Girl and Head Boy of Hogwarts must set an ideal example for the other students at all times. Now is the time to set aside your adolescent differences and show the school why the two of you were chosen for these esteemed positions,” Minerva McGonagall tersely informed them.

Hermione didn’t consider Draco a friend, but she had come to respect him. Having to deal with his Father’s death had drastically matured him and with Remus as a mentor/companion, he seemed to be quickly developing a much more pleasant social personality. Harry even admitted to Hermione privately that he saw potential for Draco to almost be a normal person. That was a tremendous compliment coming from Harry.

When spring hit Hogwarts that year, it hit hard. Everyone had spring fever, it seemed. Everywhere Hermione looked, someone was getting some, except for Hermione herself. Dean Thomas and Lavender Brown seemed to have their hands permanently fused together; they went everywhere hand in hand. After school hours and on weekends the courtyard was filled with sixth and seventh years snogging heavily. The same activity could be found in the Quidditch stands, the Astronomy Tower and any empty classroom in the castle.

Hermione only half-jokingly wondered if an aphrodisiac had been slipped into the school’s water supply. She scolded herself now for always drinking bottled water.

Hermione had plenty of urges herself, it wasn’t as though she was a prude, she just had no prospects. Everyone was either taken or didn’t tickle her fancy....well, there was one boy, but no, that would never work.

Harry spent most of his free time trying desperately to ditch Ron so he and Ginny could sneak off for a shag. Ron spent most of his free time desperately trying to catch Harry and Ginny in the act and “hex them both with iron chastity belts.” Hermione spent most of her free time studying for her NEWTS, as usual.

She noticed one day in late April that Ron seemed quite chipper and no longer seemed obsessed or even interested at all in hunting down his best mate and his sister.

On May first, Hermione found out why. She was looking for a book in the Restricted Section of the library when she heard the unmistakable sounds of two people snogging. She slowly crept around the row of books, hoping to surprise the randy couple and put an end to their inappropriate behavior, however, she was the one to receive the surprise.

One of the snoggers was none other than one of her very best friends, Ron Weasley. She sucked in her breath and tried her best to remain as still and quiet as possible. She couldn’t believe her eyes. She and Ron had made an attempt to become more than friends early in sixth year, but the first time they kissed, they both agreed that there was absolutely no sexual spark between them.

Well, Ron most definitely had the sparks flying now. Hermione was enthralled by the amount of passion behind his kisses, the intense desire as he ran his hands all over his partner’s body. There was no mistaking that these two had it bad for one another. When Hermione saw a hand cup the front of Ron’s pants, she snapped out of her daze and tried to make an unobtrusive exit. Of course, as often happens when one is trying to be discreet, she ended up making a huge ruckus by backing into a cart of books which were waiting to be re-shelved. The entire cart fell over with a loud clang which seemed to echo throughout the too quiet library.

“Hermione!” Ron gasped, his face bright red.

“It’s all right, Madam Pince; it’s just me, Hermione. I’m a right klutz today, I’ll clean it up. My apologies, Madam,” she called to the librarian before she made it over to them. Hermione then muttered a spell and the books began to re-shelve themselves. She watched them, trying hard not to look at Ron.

“H-how long have you been th-th-there?” Ron stuttered nervously.

“Long enough,” Hermione replied and immediately wished she had used a different tone. She smiled and shook her head. “Oh God, I’m so sorry! It’s just…the two of you…I couldn’t help but watch.” Her cheeks flushed from the embarrassment.

“You’re not mad?”

“Mad? Of course not.”

“Disgusted, flabbergasted, outraged?”

“Of course, I’m shocked Ron, but I love you. If you are happy, I am happy.” She smiled brightly. “How long has this been going on?”

“Two weeks and two days,” answered Seamus Finnigan, utterly beaming at Ron.

Hermione bit her lip and squealed, then threw her arms around Ron and Seamus.

“Er, ‘Mione...please don’t tell Harry. He’ll go mental, he will.”

“Ronald Weasley, Harry has been your best friend for six and a half years, he will feel the same way I do...well, he may not find it as intriguing as I do,” she giggled, “but he will be happy for you as long as you are happy. Are you happy?” she asked.

Ron smiled at Seamus and blushed. He reached out for his hand and nodded his head firmly to Hermione. “Yes, I am happy, finally.”

“Do you know I’ve fancied him since fifth year?” Seamus confessed. “He thought I was off my nut, but I knew he’d come ‘round, so I never gave up.”

“Well, Mr. Finnigan, ten points for your steadfast determination,” Hermione winked.


After seeing Ron and Seamus, Hermione’s mind seemed to be drifting into sexual fantasies at the most random and sometimes inappropriate moments. She was masturbating twice a day...first thing in the morning and last thing at night. She really needed to find herself a boyfriend, soon. She even admitted to Ginny that she was seriously starting to consider taking Neville up on his offer to have a sunset stroll along the lake.

“Bloody hell ‘Mione, you aren’t gagging for it that bad, are you?” Ginny cringed. “Why don’t you try to start things up with Ron again,” she suggested.

Hermione just shrugged and told her they were looking for different things. She had to fight her smile when she realized that in actuality, they were looking for the same thing...a nice stiff cock.


Two days after the incident in the library, Hermione walked into Prof. Snape’s office to pick up the key to his private lab. She decided to do some more practical studying for the bonus portion of the Potions NEWT. Since she was Head Girl, and his best student, he had given her carte blanche earlier that year as far as using his private lab.

“Miss Granger!” Severus Snape bellowed as she walked in the room. He was sitting at his desk and looked very un-Snape-like. His robe was on the floor; his jacket was unbuttoned halfway down his chest and his normally paler than pale cheeks had a rosy pink glow to them.

“My apologies, Professor, I just came to get the key to the lab. I want to work on the Wolfsbane Potion again. I haven’t quite worked it out yet.”

“And you most likely will not. I told you it was too advanced, even for the perfect Hermione Granger,” he snarled. “Go on then, get the key and be on your way. I do not wish to be disturbed.”

Hermione was quite taken back by his abrasive attitude. Sometime in sixth year, she couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment; Professor Snape had started to treat her differently, almost respectfully. He would compliment her work in class and often call on her to take over his younger classes when he had Order business to tend to. It had been quite a while since he had been this snarky with her.

She nodded and crossed the room to retrieve the key from the hook on the far wall, which was hidden behind a portrait of Basilius Valentinus. Snape kept an irreversible locking charm on his private lab and for reasons which Hermione did not know; he preferred to use an old skeleton key to gain entry.

On her way back across the room, Prof. Snape made a sort of grunting sound.

“Are you feeling all right, Professor?” Hermione asked with concern.

“Yes, fine. You’ll forgive me for being rude, you startled me is all. I thought I had locked the door. I think it is very admirable of you to attempt the Wolfsbane Potion. Prof. Lupin is lucky to have such a good friend.”

Hermione smiled. “We are lucky to have him, Professor.”

Snape dropped his hands into his lap and actually grinned. Hermione could swear he muttered, “I am indeed.”

“Excuse me, Professor?”

“I am in need...of a nap,” he said quickly. “Good day, Miss Granger.”

Hermione apologized again and bowed her head. As she did this, she spotted something that she could not believe...the heel of a blood red Doc Marten boot sticking out from under Prof. Snape’s desk. She apologized more sincerely and hurried out of the room.

She knew those boots well, very well. They belonged to Remus, well technically they had belonged to Sirius, but after his death, Remus had taken to wearing Sirius’ clothes. He said it was all he had left of him. He wore those boots all the time, even though Harry and Ron had been telling him, for the past month, that it was far too warm for leather combat boots.

Perhaps the end of the war was not the only thing that had mellowed Snape last year. Hermione shook her head, could Remus and Snape actually be shagging? She imagined Remus on all fours under Prof. Snape’s desk; he must have been... “Oh bloody hell,” Hermione exclaimed, ran into Snape’s lab, locked the door and brought herself to orgasm in a matter of two minutes.

She gave up all hope on being able to concentrate on Potion making and decided to enjoy the beautiful spring weather. She slung her backpack over her shoulder, put the key chain around her neck, tucking Snape’s key inside her shirt and headed out to the courtyard.

“That bloody does it!” she declared to herself as she passed two rabbits going at it like...well...rabbits, “I need to find a guy today!” she declared.

As if the universe had heard her and decided to help her along, an owl flew straight to her, holding a small envelope in its claws.

Hermione Granger, Head Girl was written in very small, very tidy handwriting on the envelope. She slid a nail under the flap to open it and was completely surprised by the Muggle style party invitation.

The cover of the card showed a field of poppies and a heart in the sky, written by a skywriter. In the sky, in white ink, were the words:

YOU’RE INVITED!

She opened the card and read the details.

Date: May third
Time: Noon
Place: Behind greenhouse number three
Reason: Making right a colossal wrong

It was May third. Hermione looked at her watch. It was a quarter to noon. She was very curious and utterly bored. So, perhaps against her better judgment; she turned around and headed across the grounds toward the greenhouses.

When she rounded the corner of greenhouse number three, she saw Draco pacing back and forth. His broom was hovering next to him, practically begging to be ridden. He kept checking his watch every thirty seconds or so. Hermione’s first thought was that he had been invited there as well. She was suspicious that someone wanted to get the Head Boy and Girl out of the way so they could cause some sort of mischief.

Draco spotted her and noticed the invitation in her hand. “I see you received my invite,” he drawled with false bravado.

He was wringing his hands in a very uncharacteristically nervous manner and she noticed small beads of sweat on his forehead.

“You sent this? What’s this about, Draco?” His first name rolled off her tongue with no effort at all by this point. “Are you all right?”

He didn’t say anything, but flashed her a smile that screamed, ‘I solemnly swear I am up to no good.’

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked at the invitation again. “What is this colossal wrong that you plan on righting?”

“Being the most intelligent girl in school,” began Draco in his usual drawl, “I’m sure you’ve noticed the spring fever that’s been going around as of late.”

She rolled her eyes again and nodded.

“Well, I realized that the two most shaggable people in the entire castle are among the very few seventh years who are not currently shagging anyone. I simply cannot be in the same category with the likes of Millicent Bulstrode and Neville Longbottom. It’s utterly wrong.” He shuddered elegantly.

Hermione chuckled, but then it hit her. “Are you saying that you want to...”

“Touch you, hold you, kiss you, lick you, taste you, shag the bloody hell out of you,” he interjected as he prowled slowly toward her.

Hermione’s face heated up. “Draco, that’s totally inappropriate.” She tried her best to sound outraged.

“Is it? Why?”

“You and I...”

“Are not attached to anyone,” he jumped in again.

“No, I was going to say that you and I....”

“Would be bloody brilliant together.”

“No...I mean...maybe...oh good Lord, NO!”

He was getting closer to her; a hungry look burning in his eye.

“This is absurd, Draco. We have never gotten on well, to say the least.”

He pouted playfully. “Oh, now I thought we had developed a mutual respect for each other.”

“Respect? Perhaps, but respect is not attraction.”

“So, you’re not attracted to me?” he asked, arching his brow and licking his top lip in a very seductive manner.

Hermione couldn’t take her eyes off his tongue. She swallowed the saliva that had pooled in her mouth and shook her head. “No. No, I’m not,” she lied.

Truth be told, she had thought about him in that way once. Twice. Ok, maybe more than that. Of course, she realized how utterly ridiculous the idea was, but still from time to time she found her mind drifting to thoughts of him.

One day in the Head meeting, for some reason, she became fixated on his hands. She had never noticed how elegant they were; long, slender fingers, perfectly manicured nails, most likely a product from his upbringing, she assumed. She imagined those hands exploring her body. She had startled the others in the meeting by gasping loudly when she realized what she was thinking about.

One Sunday in February when she, Harry and Ron were having tea with Remus, Draco had stopped by Remus’ room to speak with him. Hermione’s stomach had fluttered at the site of him. She brushed it off to the fact that she had missed breakfast.

The incident that startled her the most occurred after he took a Bludger to the arm in a match against Ravenclaw, just last month. Hermione stopped by the infirmary to check on him, out of consideration. She thought the Head Girl, should be aware of the state of her Head Boy...the Head Boy, she had hastily corrected herself that day.

When she walked into the room, Draco was sitting up in the bed, his bare chest exposed. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat and she felt a warm rush of wetness between her legs and a burning desire to run her tongue over his pert nipples. She was so horrified that she turned and ran from the hospital wing. She was grateful that he never questioned her about it.

“Not attracted to me at all, huh?” Draco drawled, backing Hermione up against the back of the greenhouse. “Then why are you sweating? Why are you breathing so heavily? Why is your heart beating so fast?” He had the nerve to reach out and place his hand over her heart. His pinky brushed her nipple as his beautiful fingers splayed over her left breast.

She gasped, but didn’t push him away.

“I know you want me Hermione. I know why you ran out of the hospital last month; you realized how much you wanted me and it scared the hell out of you. Am I right?”

“No…maybe…yes. Yes,” she admitted in a barely audible voice.

He released a quivering sigh that shot straight through her. “It freaked me out at first too, you know. I couldn’t believe that I wanted to shag a...Mu...Muggle born witch,” he stopped himself from saying Mudblood; Hermione noted that and was utterly impressed and quite flattered by his effort.

“You came running into Remus’ office in that wet t-shirt after Peeves had dropped water bombs on you, Harry and Ron. Holy Merlin, I got so hard when I saw the way your shirt clung to your perky tits. Shit, I wanked off three times that day just imagining what it would be like to touch those nipples with my fingers, my tongue, oh Merlin,” he groaned and closed his eyes.

“That was back in October!” Hermione exclaimed in disbelief.

His eyes snapped open and he gazed at her openly. “Yes it was. I suppose you think I’m bloody pathetic now; pining after you for months, too embarrassed and nervous to approach you. Hardly the Draco Malfoy you’ve known all these years, huh?”

“Hardly indeed,” Hermione whispered. Then to Draco’s surprise, as well as her own, she grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled his mouth to hers.

She was amazed at how good this felt...he was a fantastic kisser. His hands roamed restlessly across her back and trailed down to caress her ass. He pressed his hips forward, rubbing his erection against her.

“Draco, slow down,” she panted, pulling out of the kiss.

He trailed kisses down her neck, then back up to her ear. “God, Hermione, this feels so good. You’re a brilliant kisser,” he whispered, “and you taste so good.”

“Draco, we can’t do this.”

“Yes we can. We obviously both want this. Tell me, are you wet?”

She was, but didn’t want to admit it. “Oh God, Draco...what if people found out?! What would they say?”

“Who bloody cares?” Draco snapped slightly.

Hermione took a deep breath and firmly pushed him back. “I care, Draco.”

“Oh, right, how would it look if the perfect Hermione Granger stooped so low as to be with the fatherless, ex-future Death Eater, is that it?”

“Don’t be an arse. That’s not what I meant,” she huffed and straightened her blouse. “I’m not this sort of girl,” she added, blushing.

“What do you mean?” He shrugged.

“I don’t even know you, Draco.”

“Hermione, you’ve known me for over six years.”

She rolled her eyes. “Draco, you are no longer the boy I knew, and I barely knew you at all. I only knew that you were a stuck up, obnoxious prat who was counting the days until he received his Dark Mark.”

Draco sighed and looked at Hermione with a hurt expression. “I was counting the days...because I was terrified, Hermione. I didn’t want to become a Death Eater...I was born to become one. I had no choice. If I fought it, he would have made my life a living hell.”

“Like he did for countless others,” she said before she could stop herself.

“Maybe you’re right. I was bloody stupid to think this would work.” Draco exhaled loudly, mounted his broom and took off at top speed.

Hermione sighed. She felt like a complete loser. Draco wasn’t that boy anymore and he wasn’t the next Lucius Malfoy. In her heart, she knew that. She could tell that he was sincere; he didn’t want that life.

She needed to apologize, but first, she needed to take a cold shower; she could still feel Draco’s hands on her body and the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to feel them on her again.

Draco was not at dinner that evening. Hermione walked up to the head table to ask Prof. Snape and Remus if either of them had seen him.

“Professor,” she addressed Snape, “I wanted to return your key, sir.” She took the key from around her neck and handed it to him. “Again, I apologize for interrupting you earlier.”

Remus’ cheeks turned bright pink.

“Remus, I wondered if you’ve seen Draco this afternoon?” she asked casually.

Remus smiled brightly. “No, I haven’t. Have you?” he asked with a knowing tone.

She looked at him curiously; she was the one blushing now.

“I saw him earlier, yes. I’m afraid that I upset him and I really want to find him and apologize.”

“Have you checked his private quarters?” Snape asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t know where his private quarters are, Professor,” Hermione replied, turning even redder now.

“Hmm,” Snape hummed and smirked disbelievingly. “Perhaps you should find out, Miss Granger,” Snape suggested quietly. “You know what they say, all work and no play...”

“Severus!” Remus scolded him playfully. “Don’t tease Hermione.”

“He’s right, Remus,” Hermione admitted and then added in a whisper, “you two certainly don’t have a problem there, do you?” She winked and then walked away quickly. She heard Remus coughing as though he was choking on his juice.

Then she heard Snape say, “Get a hold of yourself. She was bound to find out sooner or later.”

*****

Draco was not at breakfast the next morning, but he rarely was. Hermione did see him at lunch and tried to talk to him, but he brushed her off saying he was heading out to the pitch for Quid practice.

It seemed every time she tried to talk to him that week, he made some excuse to get away quickly. He missed the Head meeting on Wednesday evening; Prof. McGonagall explained that he had a meeting with Ian Frazier, the coach of the Magpies.

He spent all day Saturday, at the Magpies stadium.

Hermione had almost given up when she had a brilliant idea. She searched through her desk drawer, looking for the stationery set that she used when writing to her Muggle friends. She chose a blank card with a garden scene on the cover, and wrote:

YOU’RE INVITED!

across the grass. Inside she wrote:

Date: May tenth
Time: Noon
Place: Behind greenhouse number three

She thought for a while about the reason, then finally decided on:

Reason: Begging for forgiveness

That would get his attention for certain.

The next day, she arrived at greenhouse number three a half an hour early. Guilt mixed with anxiety caused the butterflies in her stomach to do somersaults. She paced back and forth as Draco had done while anticipating her arrival. She closed her eyes tightly and hung her head.

“Ahem,” Draco cleared his throat.

Hermione’s head snapped up and her eyes flew open. “You’re early!” she exclaimed in a voice much louder than she intended.

“So are you,” he drawled, arms crossed imperiously in front of his chest.

“I’m sorry, Draco.”

“For being early?”

“For being an arse.”

“All right, apology accepted. I’ll see you.” He turned to leave.

“Wait!” Hermione shouted and grabbed his arm, spinning him around to face her. “I’ve been trying to talk to you all week! Can’t you spare a few minutes? There are some things that I really need to get off my chest.”

He sighed and then nodded.

She took a piece of paper out of her pocket and unfolded it.

“You wrote it down?” He chuckled.

“I didn’t want to forget anything.”

He smiled now and leaned up against the back of the greenhouse, getting comfortable for a long speech.

“All right,” Hermione began, “number one–I haven’t thought of you as a stuck up, obnoxious prat who was counting the days until he received his Dark Mark for over a year now. I know you’re making serious efforts to better yourself and get away from that image and I really respect you for that.”

He smiled proudly and thanked her.

“Number two–I think you are very intelligent, bordering on genius. You are brilliant at Quidditch, for as much as I know about it. I think it was extremely brave of you to give up information on the Death Eaters at their trials.”

“Bloody hell, does Potter tell you everything?” he grumbled.

She ignored the comment and continued. “I think it’s fantastic that you have bonded with Remus. I think it’s very mature of you to accept his friendship.”

“Was that all number two? Because you didn’t say number three,” he teased.

“Number three,” she said loudly, “I’ve always thought you were good looking, but this year I actually noticed just how good looking you really are.”

“Ok, this is getting better.” Draco grinned.

Hermione smiled and took a deep breath. “Number four–I am attracted to you and I have imagined more than once what it would be like to be with you.”

He stalked toward her.

“But,” she held up her hand to halt his progress, “if you just plan to shag me and be on your merry way, I need to know straight off. I’m not saying I’ll say no if you tell me that, but I just want to know what to expect.” She folded the parchment and stuffed it back into her pocket.

“Is it my turn, then?” Draco asked.

Hermione nodded. She was nervous to hear his comebacks.

“Ok, number one,” he grinned, “I haven’t though of you as good-for-nothing Mudblood scum for a long time, since the middle of second year actually.”

She gasped in disbelief.

“I still found you a conceited, annoying know-it-all, but you made me realize that being pure-blood doesn’t necessarily make me superior. On the contrary, I thought the fact that you were born to two ordinary Muggle parents and became this brilliant witch, made you the superior one.”

“Wow, Draco.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame I couldn’t admit this until now, but my father would have...”

“I understand.”

“Thanks. Where was I? Right, number two–I know that you are a genius and I find that extremely attractive. I’d be happy to teach you all there is to know about Quidditch. I was scared shitless to testify against the DE’s, but knew it would be my ticket out of that life. I think Remus is ace and he may be the only person who really understands me. He understands what it’s like to feel you will never be socially accepted simply because of a twist of fate or birth.”

Hermione smiled in agreement, but remained quiet.

Draco continued. “Number four–I first noticed how beautiful you were at the fourth year Yule Ball. Of course, I hated myself for thinking it at the time and convinced myself that it was just due to puberty setting in.”

Hermione giggled.

“Number four, I am very attracted to you and imagine being with you quite often. I have the calluses to prove it.” He winked.

She widened her eyes and blushed.

“I do plan on shagging you silly.”

She clicked her tongue and looked at him disapprovingly.

“But!” he added, just as she had, “I have no plans on pulling a shag-and-run. When I said we would be bloody brilliant together, I didn’t simply mean in the sack.”

Hermione bit her lip as he heart flipped over.

“Number five.”

“Hey, I didn’t have a number five.”

“I am the guest at this party, no? I believe certain accommodations should be made for me.”

“Very well, please continue.”

“Thank you...number five–If we were to...do more than shag...I don’t want to have to sneak around and hide. I’m tired of pretending I’m something I’m not. So, if you feel that you can’t tell your friends about me than I need to know straight off, because honestly, I don’t want to have a secret affair with you.”

“Oh Lord, Harry and Ron are going to freak out!”

“Does that matter so much to you?”

“Of course what Harry and Ron think matters to me, Draco. I love them, they’re my best friends.”

“Fine,” Draco huffed and started to walk off.

Hermione ran up to him and grabbed his arm.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Oh just shut it and come with me,” she demanded, pulling him forcefully across the lawn.

“Where are you taking me? Do you normally manhandle your men?” he queried in an oddly hopeful voice.

“You said you don’t want to sneak around, well neither do I. I don’t want this hanging over us.”

“You want me to teach you about Quid?” he asked as they approached the pitch.

“Of course not,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “Gryffindor is practicing.” With two fingers in her mouth, she let out a piercing whistle. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Dennis Creevey, Seamus, Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper soared down from out of the sky.

“What’s up, Hermione?” Harry asked, alarmed.

“Everything all right?” asked Ron.

“Yes, I’m sorry to interrupt your practice. I just need to speak to you three.” She pointed to Harry, Ron and Ginny.

“All right team, we can call it a day.” Ron, as captain, dismissed them. Everyone except Seamus walked off to the changing room.

“Brilliant playing today Seamus,” Ron said in a complimentary but dismissive voice. “I’ll catch you later.” He nodded.

“It’s all right, Ron. Seamus might as well hear this too,” Hermione said with a smile to Seamus.

“What’s going on?” Harry demanded. “The Head Girl and Boy stop our practice, this must be serious.”

“It is serious,” Draco said, straight faced.

“But, we’re not here in an official capacity,” Hermione added.

“Ok, then I give up, why are you here?” Harry shrugged.

“Harry, Ron, you know how much I love you two right? And of course, you too Gin.”

They all nodded.

“Well, I have something to say that you may not like, but I think you have a right to know. We’ve been so close for so long, the three of us…and you and I as well, Ginny. l…I don’t want to keep things from you.” She was speaking very quickly. “I know you’re not going to be happy, but I am and that’s what’s important, right? I guess I’m just a bit nervous. I don’t want you to go mental on me,” she looked at Ron in particular and rolled her eyes, “but I have to tell you this.”

“WHAT?!” Harry, Ron and Ginny shouted impatiently.

“Why don’t you just show them, Hermione,” suggested Draco with a smirk.

Hermione turned to him and bit her lip. The fear of Harry and Ron freaking out made it seem so much more enticing. She was surprised that she felt that way. “Oh what the hell,” she said, then threw her arms around Draco’s neck and kissed him passionately. She opened her mouth immediately welcoming his tongue. He pressed his hands into her back, holding their bodies together. She was completely swept away by his kiss, she didn’t want to stop.

“Bloody hell, Hermione, STOP IT!” Ron shouted.

Hermione jumped back, but took hold of Draco’s hand. Ginny and Harry were gaping at them, Seamus was grinning and Ron practically had steam coming out of his ears.

“What the fuck was that all about? You’re trying to tell us that you’re shagging Malfoy?!”
Ron yelled, leaning over Hermione.

“Back off her, Weasley,” Draco warned, wrapping his arm around Hermione protectively. “We’re not shagging, you twit. We want to and hopefully we will after we’re through here, but...”

“Not helping, Draco,” Hermione groaned, squeezing his hand.

“I really like Hermione and I don’t just want to shag her.”

“And he didn’t want to have to hide and sneak around,” she added, raising her eyebrow at Ron.

“That’s very commendable, Malfoy,” Seamus chimed in.

“Too right!” Ginny agreed, slipping her arm around Harry’s waist. He, in turn, draped his arm across her shoulders.

“Sneaking around is knackering,” Harry sighed.

“Hermione, you are seriously going to date him?” Ron scoffed.

“Yes, Ron. This isn’t Malfoy, the prick who ragged on you and Harry all those years.”

“Don’t forget you were his target, too!”

“He’s changed, Ron. He never wanted to be like his father, but he was forced to as he had no choice.”

“Hermione, you don’t have to defend me to them,” Draco said calmly. “I was a prick and I apologize. I really do care about Hermione a lot. If I didn’t, we wouldn’t be here, we’d be in some secret room shagging and then pretending we don’t have feelings for each other when we’re in public.”

“You make a good point, Draco,” Ginny said, smirking at Ron.

“What? Gin, you know I love you. I just don’t fancy being killed by your brother. If you haven’t noticed, he’s quite a bit larger than I am.” Harry said in a stage whisper.

“Did you just say you love her?” Ron whipped his head toward Harry and Ginny.

Harry smiled at Ginny and nodded firmly.

“Shite, mate, I thought you two were just shagging. This gives it a whole new twist.”

“So, do you still want to kill me?”

“Hell no.”

“And we don’t have to sneak around?” added Ginny. “We can snog in the common room?”

“Hell NO!” Ron said loudly.

Everyone chuckled.

“I don’t want to see it or hear about it, all right?”

“Deal,” Harry and Ginny chimed together.

“Now about the two of you,” Ron turned back to Hermione and Draco, “this is a bit odd, don’t you think? What will people say?”

Hermione’s eyes filled up. “I could have very well said the same thing to you, Ron, and had even more of a point than you do. But I didn’t, did I? I support your choices, Ron.”

“What do you mean, Hermione?” asked a confused Harry.

“I’m saying those who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”

“Huh?” Harry shrugged.

Hermione stared Ron down.

“Oh bloody hell; this is what she’s talking about Harry.” Just as Hermione had done, Ron turned to Seamus, put his hand on the back of his neck and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, tongue and all.

Draco gasped and looked at Hermione in shock. She shook her head and leaned into his ear. “Please don’t make fun of him.”

“STOP!” Harry shouted, as Ron had done.

Ron’s cheeks were bright red; even his ears were red, when he pulled out of the kiss. Seamus was beaming at him. Ginny was giggling, but didn’t look shocked. Hermione thought she must have known.

“Now that’s why you’re a Gryffindor, Weasley,” Draco said with a chuckle.

“What does that mean?” Hermione snapped.

“Love, I meant it was a brave thing to do.”

“Don’t call her love,” Ron snarled.

“EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!” Harry shouted. Their mouths snapped shut and they all turned to Harry.

“Er, sorry.” Harry shrugged. “This is just blowing my mind. You’re…you’re…HOLY SHIT! You’re gay?” He shook his head in disbelief. “You can’t be gay. You’re really gay?”

Ron nodded, then spoke very quickly and nervously, “Do you hate me now? You think I’m disgusting and you’re freaking out because you’ve been naked in front of me? I never looked at you that way, Harry. You’re like a brother to me, always have been. Hell, I didn’t even know I fancied boys until I kissed Seamus last month just to get him the hell away from me. Well, I guess I sort of knew, but I was trying hard to deny it.”

“How did this happen?” Harry asked, pointing to Seamus and Ron.

“Well, Seamus has been randomly propositioning me since the middle of fifth year and I’d had enough. My plan was to kiss him to prove that there was nothing there, but surprise, surprise, there was definitely something there. I’m sorry, Harry.” Ron hung his head.

Harry just stood there and stared at Ron like he had never seen him before in his life.

“Harry, say something,” Ginny urged in a whisper.

“Did you know about this?” he asked her. She nodded. “And obviously, you knew too, Hermione. You could tell Hermione and Ginny, but not me, your best mate. Do you really think so little of me, Ron?”

“I was scared, Harry. I didn’t want you to think badly of me.”

“Ron, I think you’re an arse most of the time. You’re a downright slob, constantly throwing your dirty socks near my bed. You snore so bloody loudly, I’m surprised the Slytherins can’t hear you down in the dungeons. You’ve been giving me crap about dating Ginny for months, but you’re my best friend...you’re more than a brother to me.

I’m completely gobsmacked by the fact that you’re gay; I would never have thought it. But, I’m not disgusted or freaked out because you’ve seen me naked. I’m not that thick. I know that being gay doesn’t make you instantly attracted to every guy. And I could never, never hate you, Ron.”

Ron sniffed and blinked hard to fight his tears.

“Don’t go crying on me now you bloody girl,” Harry teased, then embraced Ron tightly.

“You’re something else, Harry,” Seamus sighed.

“Ron, like you said, I don’t want to see it or hear about it, ok? I mean, you can talk to me, but spare the details, all right?”

Ron smiled and nodded. “Deal.”

“And Seamus,” Harry looked at him, “You hurt him and I’ll kill you.”

Seamus gulped dramatically. Everyone laughed. Ron slipped his arm around Seamus’ shoulders and pulled him to his side.

“Well, thanks Ron,” drawled Draco.

“For what?”

“Well, you made me and Hermione’s coming out seem like no big deal.”

Ron chuckled.

“Are you guys going to be able to handle Draco and I being a couple?” Hermione asked her two best friends.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, then both turned to Draco. “You hurt her and we’ll kill you,” they both promised, in unison.

“No worries there, mates.”

“Did Malfoy just call us mate?” Ron nudged Harry with his elbow.

“Yeah and did he just have his tongue down ‘Mione’s throat?” Harry whispered loudly.

“Gotta love springtime,” Ginny sang cheerfully.

******

Hermione and Draco ran all the way to her room. When she gave the password, Hogwarts a History, Draco guffawed. She threatened to make him leave if he didn’t stop laughing; he stopped immediately and commented pleasantly on the wonderful tapestry which concealed her door.

As soon as the door was shut, Hermione threw her arms around Draco. They kissed passionately. Hermione didn’t realize how much built up desire for Draco she actually had until she released it. As they kissed, she kicked off her shoes and tugged on the bottom of his shirt. He pulled it over his head quickly and then covered her mouth with his once more. He nibbled her lips, her jaw, her earlobe.

“Thank you, Hermione,” he whispered.

She pulled back a bit to see his face. “For what?” she asked.

“For giving me a chance.”

Hermione’s heart flipped over. She ran her hands up Draco’s muscular chest. She leaned into his ear now, a bit embarrassed to look at him as she asked, “Do you have a condom?”

“Miss Granger! I thought you weren’t that type of girl,” he teased with a smirk.

“I’m not, but...” she dropped her eyes to his chest and bit her bottom lip...\"how is a girl supposed to resist something so spectacular?”

“So, you’re simply using me for my beautiful body?” he teased again.

She giggled. “Yes, so do you have anything on you?” she asked, blushing.

Draco reached in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small square package. “Always be prepared...that was my father’s motto.” Draco shrugged. “Should have been expect the unexpected.”

Hermione titled her head in question.

“I seriously doubt my father expected a half-blood/Werewolf to take him down.”

Hermione gasped. “You know?”

Draco nodded. “Yeah, Remus told me over the summer. He felt so guilty and thought he had to confess to me.” He rolled his eyes. “He told me that you knew.”

“Are you all right about that?”

“He was an evil man, Hermione.” Draco stopped. Hermione thought he was going to say more, but he didn’t. He took her hand and led her over to the bed. “I don’t want to talk about him ever again,” he whispered.

Hermione kissed him gently, then dashed off to the toilet. When she walked back into the room, she squealed. Draco was sitting in the middle of her bed with his hands behind his head...and he was stark naked.

She had never gotten undressed faster in her entire life. She had to touch him, to have him touch her. Their hands explored each other’s bodies as if on a mission. Their tongues danced together playfully. His hands were even more amazing then she imagined they would be. He caressed her breasts, pinching her nipples between his fingers and thumbs. He pushed them together and dipped his tongue into the cleavage, then flicked it across one nipple.

“Oh, Draco,” she moaned.

“Hermione, you’re so beautiful. My God, your tits are perfect,” he panted, then licked her nipple hungrily and sucked it into his mouth. She moaned loudly when he bit it hard and slid his hand down her body, caressing every curve. He lightly scratched his fingers through her dark curly hair and slipped his fingers between her slick folds to toy with her clit.

“Mmmmm, Hermione, you’re so wet.”

She wrapped her hand around his penis which was standing at attention just begging to be touched. Slowly, she stroked up and down.

Two fingers slid inside; she tossed her head back and hummed with pleasure. Draco licked the length of her exposed neck.

“Hermione...can we...”

“Yes,” she cut him off, knowing what he was going to ask. She stood up and gaped at him as he tore open the condom package with his teeth and rolled it down over his length. As soon as it was on, she climbed onto the bed and straddled him. Foreplay could wait until the next time. She wanted him inside of her as badly as he wanted to be there.

He rubbed the tip of his penis against her clit for a minute. “Oh God, Draco,” she moaned, “I want you, please,” she begged.

They both gasped, then held their breath as he entered her. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her tightly. “This is heaven,” he breathed in her ear.

“Mmmhmm,” was all she could manage.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him. He completely filled her, she agreed...it was heavenly. Their mouths locked again, with hot, hard kisses; their teeth clashed together several times.

Hermione rode Draco with determination. “Draco, I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she whispered.

“I’m...so...happy we are,” he panted.

“Me too.”

His fingers threaded through her hair, as he lifted and then lowered his hips.

She wove her fingers into his silky blond hair and was glad that he had stopped slicking it back with all that gel. It was more attractive in this softer, more natural style. She loved the feeling of his hair, it was so soft.

Suddenly, Draco grabbed hold of her hips and thrust deeply into her. “Fuck yeah...uh, uh...oh yeah,” he groaned, then collapsed down onto the pillows.

Hermione laid down on top of him. “Wow, that was fast,” she said, before thinking.

“I’m sorry. It’s been a really long time and you felt so good.”

“It’s fine, Draco, I understand.” She kissed his chest a few times.

“I’m bloody pathetic,” he whined.

“Draco, you’re incredible.” She leaned up and kissed his sumptuously full lips twice. “Plus, you have the most gorgeous, most delicious lips.” She kissed him a few more times, then smiled brightly at him.

“I should have brought more than one condom,” he shrugged. “I can run to my room and get some more; might not look too good if I summoned them here.” He chuckled. “Or I can get you off in other ways,” he wiggled his tongue suggestively.

She bit her lip at the idea of that, but found herself saying, “Or we could cuddle and talk and actually get to know each other,” she suggested as she rolled off of him and snuggled against his side.”

“So, you’re not only using me for my body after all, huh? That’s good, because if you told me to leave now, you’d break my heart. ”

Hermione sat up and gazed at him. “I might actually be able to possibly like you, Draco Malfoy,” she joked.

“Really? Well, stranger things have happened.”

They laid in each others arms and talked for a long time. He told her that his mother was still in St. Mungo’s psych ward. Hermione had wondered if she was still there. She had heard that Narcissa had a nervous breakdown when Lucius was killed. Draco seemed very emotionless when he spoke about her.

He told her that Remus had found him a fantastic flat in Hogsmeade and he would be moving in on July first. When he asked her what her plans were after school and she told him she was going to study in America he sat bolt upright.

“America?!” he gasped. “You can’t go to America! I’ll never be able to get there, not with my heavy practice schedule for the team. Hermione, please tell me you’re kidding,” he pleaded.

“I’m kidding, Draco.”

He furrowed his brow. “Really?”

“Yes, I was only joking. I wanted to see how you would react.”

“What? That was cruel....and very Slytherin of you, I might add.” He nodded appraisingly.

Hermione smirked and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Feel how fast my heart’s beating,” he said, placing her hand on his chest.

His heart was indeed racing. It delighted her, but also scared her somewhat. This was all so new.

She climbed out of bed saying she had to use the toilet. The scene upon her return was the opposite as it was earlier; Draco was fully clothed and standing near the door. Relief and disappointment dueled within her.

“Trying to sneak off, are you?” she asked, eyebrow raised accusatorially.

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” he whispered.

“What? Why? You’ve done nothing wrong. Don’t go, Draco.”

“Hermione,” he sighed, “don’t try to fool me. If you could have seen the look on your face just before. It’s not like I asked you to marry me for Merlin’s sake.”

“Draco, I just don’t want to jump into things so quickly.”

“I see. You’ll jump into bed with me, but I can’t discuss having a life with you after graduation. I thought I made it clear that I wanted you to be my girlfriend, Hermione. If I just wanted a cheap shag, I had plenty of other options. I like you a lot and we’ll be out of school in less than two months. I don’t think it’s so unrealistic to discuss our future. That is, if you want us to have one together.”

“I do, Draco, really, but I just don’t want to move so fast. I’ve never had a boyfriend. I mean, I’ve slept with boys, all right, one boy, but I’ve never been anyone’s girlfriend. How about we take it one week at a time?”

“Are you saying you want to be my girlfriend or not?”

“Yes, I do.” She took hold of his hands, “but, let’s survive the NEWTS before we discuss our future, ok?”

“Ok.”

She hugged him tightly and kissed him softly on the lips.

He ran his hands across the silky fabric of her robe and kissed her forehead. “I should go now.”

“You don’t have to. Stay, we’ll have tea.”

“Next week.” He smiled, kissed her again and then left.

******