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Chapter One

Her silk robe was soft against her skin as she sat at the edge of her bed, flicking through her unread messages. Another text from Oliver Wood, who was never going to grasp the fact that it was a solid no and one from her best friend, roommate and co-worker Daphne from earlier on in the night too.

Hermione understood why her friend had been worried - it wasn't every day that your ex boyfriend stormed into your place of work to slander you, throw drinks at you, and whoops, the tumbler had accidentally slammed against her jaw as well. Working as a dancer though, she wasn't surprised. Ronald Weasley was a man she meant to keep in the past, moving on from that nasty part of her life. And she didn't hide the satisfaction from her face when Malfoy tossed him out of the club.

The Shrieking Shack was a gentleman's club, though it shouldn't be called that since Hermione danced for women as well. And sometimes, she smirked to herself, women tipped better than men. Previously in university before she'd been unable to keep up with the cost of living, she'd been working in a restaurant where the tips were shite, and old men smacked her arse as she passed their booths. Daphne had told her their former classmate, and resident playboy, they admitted in giggles, had taken over his father's business.

Hermione had her moral objections to the job, but making upwards of what her rent cost her a night had changed her mind quickly. She'd taken the job as an exotic dancer after ending her relationship with Ron, but as her bad luck would have it, he also visited the Shrieking Shack, and he liked to oogle the nearly naked women on Fridays after work.

She was on the center stage each Friday. There was a rush of power dancing in front of him as his jaw went slack, as she placed her hand daintily against the silver pole and she spun around it.

Her phone rang, shrill in her hand. "Hello?" Hermione's voice was hoarse. "What do you want, Daph?"

The music grew softer as her friend must have been scurrying away from the stages, and the creaking of a door told her that she'd made her way into the dressing room. "You aren't going to believe what happened after you left."

Hermione held the phone up with her shoulder as she made her way into their kitchen, opening the freezer and tugging a bottle of wine free. "Did Ron storm back in? If so, I hope Draco punched that little shit like he was threatening to do." Hermione set the bottle down, grabbing a corkscrew from a drawer and snatching a stemless wine glass from an overhead cupboard. "Hang on, I'm going to put the phone on speaker so I can open this fucking bottle of wine."

Daphne's laugh was shrill as she set her cell phone down on the ivory kitchen island, and she pressed the speaker button. "As much as I'd like to see that - can you imagine him rolling up his sleeves? God, he's,"

"Don't get your knickers wet, Greengrass. He might overhear you." Hermione giggled, and she fought with the damned bottle to get the cork out of it. "I'm aware of how bloody attractive our boss is."

Getting off topic, her friend launched into a completely different topic. "Come off it, Granger. Don't brush off the subject like that, as if you've never seen him without his clothes on."

"Daph," she warned. "We swore we weren't going to talk about that."

"No, we said we wouldn't talk about it in front of other dancers. And would you look at that," Hermione could imagine her friend spinning around the empty dressing room, definitely only wearing a scrap of cloth for knickers. "There's no one fucking here. So don't you pretend that you don't know what it's like to have his cock in your - what the fuck do you want?"

Hermione sighed, hanging up on her friend who didn't know how to keep her mouth shut. It was bad enough that the majority of the other dancers had harbored a not so secret jealousy towards Hermione. Okay, so maybe Malfoy had shown a bit of favoritism, and he might have made some jokes about one time in university. It was nothing more than a party where they had both been ridiculously pissed, and it was a revenge fuck more than anything else.

It had only been because Ron was dry humping Lavender Brown against the wall. And because Astoria Greengrass, Daphne's little sister, had tried to make her almost boyfriend jealous. Hermione sipped her wine, remembering that Draco Malfoy didn't handle jealousy at all. No, he'd gotten even, and left the blonde weeping in a stairwell.

Her friendship with the older Greengrass had come later, and it started as most things do, as nothing. Pansy Parkinson was a raging bitch, and Hermione had been the one to stumble upon Daphne in a weak moment. She just considered it history after that.

She'd been living with Daphne when she was still in university, but gradually things had begun to fall apart. First the funding had been cut in half, the same funding that paid for her scholarship. It wasn't as if she weren't at the top of her class, a spot that she'd fought for. It was that there were several students who had their way paid for them. Whether it was because their parents were on the board, or for whatever fucking reason -

It made her angry just to remember sitting down in Headmaster Dippet's office where she had been told she had lost her scholarship. Fighting it would have taken money she didn't have, and she'd gone on a weekend drinking binge with Daph, and in the process she learned more about the Shrieking Shack. Really, it had started as a way to work towards putting herself through undergrad, and then, it wasn't anymore.

It wasn't how she envisioned her life at twenty-two. It was hard to regret anything that bought her the nicer things in life like the new car that sat in the parking garage of their complex, or the lovely clothes that hung in her closet, or any of the things she found she needed, or wanted. School had gradually slipped away from her, until it was a speck in the proverbial rear view mirror.

Hermione had little doubt she wouldn't continue her education. It was the thought that mildly concerned her. She attended two night classes a week, both of which were on her nights off -Tuesday and Wednesday. It was slow moving, but she hadn't bothered to think that far ahead. Satisfied with where she currently was in life, it was a blip on her radar.

Working as a dancer, a stripper, honestly she couldn't bring herself to care about the title, had shown her some of the things she didn't know she enjoyed.

Those being money, attention, and sex.

Wednesday night Daphne had to miss her shift, and she'd begged Hermione to cover for her after her night class. Sighing, and telling her friend to let her know if Astoria was okay, she'd thrown her bag into the passenger side of her car and made the drive across town. There was a text waiting on her phone from Draco, thanking her and telling her that he would double her pay for the night.

It wasn't a big deal, she reminded him. Wednesday nights were slow, and Katie would be the one on the center stage with all eyes on her. It'd give Hermione enough time to sit at the bar, twirling her pen in between chewing on it, while she poured over her textbook.

In fact, there wasn't much of a reason for her to be here at all, she thought as she parked in the back of the parking lot. She reached over, pressing the button to lock her car out of habit. Taking a look around, she realized it was still a bit silly, but Ron's stunt earlier that week made her wary. The digital clock on her dash told her she had ten minutes before she needed to make her way inside.

Sighing, she threw the car door open. It was freezing. The middle of winter had not been so kind to her, and her trainers broke the layer of ice covering a puddle. Normally, she would have soaked up the time she had left while listening to the radio, but the heat in her car had gone out earlier that day. She'd take it to a shop tomorrow - likely Sirius's, but by the time she'd gotten out from class it was ten o'clock.

Nott waved to her from the entrance, where he opened the side door for employees. "You're working tonight?" He looked down at her, his hair tousled, and there was a dark mark under his jaw. "Granger, what are you - ow, fuck!"

She stepped forward, dropping her backpack, and tilted his head up, lightly cupping his jaw. "This wasn't here Monday night. What happened to you?" A bruise was forming beneath where her thumb rested. "Theo, tell me who fucking punched you in the face."

"You're lucky there aren't any guests, doll. I can't have you making me look like a delicate flower." He laughed, catching her hand, and pushing it away. "Your damned weasel -"

"He's not my damned anything." She protested, her nose crinkling in disgust. "Ron punched you? Ron?"

"He's a fucking hothead, Granger. What did you expect?"

She shook her head, grinning ear to ear while she adjusted her jumper. "No, I expected him to hit you. I also expected for you to be better than to get hit."

He glared at her. "If you thought this was bad, you're going to flip your shit when you see Draco."

Her eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

He gave a shrug, watching a regular go by before telling her a word. "Weasley was angry about that time in university, and then he found out about that time with Daphne and Draco-"

"If you're the reason the rest of out co workers find out, I'm going to murder you." Hermione hissed. She leaned against the wall, one leg crossed over the other.

He waved her off. "Malfoy was egging him on; he wanted a reason to beat the shite out of Weasley. So he brought it up - no one was around, stop giving me that look -, and it was pretty bloody by the time I got there. Crabbe is terrible security, and I'm fairly certain Malfoy was handling it on his own from the start. How's the jaw?" His thumb grazed where she'd covered the purple bruise. "That was a pretty nasty hit with that tumbler."

"I'm fine," she replied. "It's a bit sore, but I'm going to talk to Malfoy now."

"You never told me where Daph was." Theo said.

"Oh," she mumbled, taking her backpack from him as he handed it to her. "Astoria collapsed at work. She was almost to the hospital when their mum called Daph. I'm not sure what's going on." She waited for his nod before pulling the steel door open.

The Shrieking Shack was always loud on this side - and she craved it. The flashing lights, though they made her nauseous if she'd had too much to drink, the loud, thumping music that she liked to dance to, and the familiar feeling it gave her. She wasn't so silly to think it was the establishment that felt like home, but the people. Or the majority of them anyway. As she passed Goyle, she remembered that there were still some employees she couldn't bring herself to like.

Crabbe was typically at Goyle's side, and she didn't stop to ask, already forming her own conclusion. Holding her five inch heels in her left hand, she stormed across the club, and snuck into the back corridor. Draco's office was at the end of it, behind another security door that she punched the code in for. If he wanted privacy, he shouldn't have it set as his sodding birthday.

"Granger?" He looked up from his desk, dropping his pen, and leaning back in his chair. He wore a tailored suit, and her eyes raked over him hungrily. As much as she did prefer to keep certain things in the past, it didn't mean she didn't like to look at him. "Shouldn't you be in the dressing room."

Hermione rolled her eyes, dropping her backpack into the chair across from him. His eyes widened as she made her way around the desk, rearranging it so she could hop onto it. "Theo says Ron attacked you, or rather that you made him attack you."

"That's true."

She sighed. "What exactly did you say to him then?"

His grin was wicked, his soft lips - she knew they were, alright? - curving into a smile. "I told him how he couldn't satisfy you when you were with him, and he told me how I didn't know a fucking thing about your relationship. I gently reminded him that I knew quite a bit about fucking you. And then I told him how it was pathetic he couldn't satisfy you when I had fucked you and Daphne."

Her chest rose as fell, her heart beating erratically at the way he looked at her. "You're going to make every other dancer despise me, Malfoy." She accused. "We've been over this before, you know."

He shrugged. "So we have, but even if they don't like it, they can leave. I gave you a job because we're friends -"

She scoffed. "We weren't friends; we'd fucked one, solitary time at a party in university. We're friends now, but don't use that as an excuse."

He drummed his fingers against his desk. "Alright, you've caught me. I hired you because I wanted to see your delectable arse every night of my week, and then I'd fuck you over my desk until men who like to watch you knew exactly who you belong to."

"It's impolite to tease." Hermione snorted. "Was anyone around when you told him that?"

Draco shook his head. "Just Daphne, and later Theo. I'm fine, Granger."

"I can see that. Theo made it sound like you were fucked up, but all I can see is this little cut right here." Hermione leaned forward, tilting his head up as she'd done to Theo. "How on earth did you manage to get your lip cut?" Hermione pulled the drawer beside her legs open, snatching the first aid kit from it.

"You don't have to baby me; what you should be doing is getting dressed." Malfoy didn't make a move away from her though.

"There's four guests watching Katie, and Tracey is taking a fifteen minute break behind the counter. So, I think it will be fine if I take an extra five minutes." Pulling a tube from the small white box, she uncapped it and squirted a bit of it on her finger. "Stop fighting me; come here, Malfoy."

"You're not my mum," he laughed, and when she grabbed the arm of his leather chair to roll him closer to her, Draco pulled her right off of his desk and into his lap. "Stop wiggling your arse, Granger. I know that's what I pay you to do, but,"

She groaned, holding him still by his chin, and dabbing the cream onto his lip. "You're ridiculous." Hermione muttered. "Was this what you wanted? Me in your lap?"

He grumbled, "I'd prefer you bent over my lap."

"It's impolite to tease." She reminded him, again, and she froze as she heard four beeps coming from the security door. She scrambled away from him, landing on her feet, and taking three steps away from him. And then whatever code they had entered failed. "Are you bloody serious? The code is your birthday, and they can't even get that right?"

He chuckled, throwing the first aid kit back into his desk. "I'm flattered that you know my birthday."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Typically four digit pins are an important date, and considering you're a narcissist, it was obviously going to be your birthday."

"Perhaps I'll change it to your birthday."

Rolling her eyes again, which she admit she did an awful lot when he was around, she told him "That just wouldn't make sense. I'm going - also, where is Crabbe?"

The playful smile slipped from his face. "I fired him."


Chapter Text



Chapter Two


She learned that Astoria was fine when she got home that night, her teeth chattering and clacking together as she rushed into their flat. Daphne had been sitting on the sofa, sprawled out in a lingerie set. Hermione faltered, looking around slowly. “Is someone else here?” She whispered.


Daphne laughed, “No, why do you look like a ninja?”


Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m hunched over because it’s fucking cold outside, you bint. I’m trying to keep myself warm.”


“You look ridiculous.”


“You’re one to talk! Just who were you waiting for at three a.m.?” Hermione ripped her scarf over her head, throwing into over the back of their recliner. She kicked her heels off, wishing she’d slipped her trainers back on before rushing out of the club.


Daphne flicked through the channels on the television lazily. “Just you, love.” Her best friend grinned as she parted her legs, flashing Hermione her bare pussy.


“For fucks sake, fuck off.” Hermione groaned. “I’m taking a bath; don’t bother me.” Her voice echoed as she made her way down the hallway. She opened a cupboard, grabbing two towels, and a robe from inside of it - a robe that was not hers. “Did you use my robe?” Silence. “You bitch, that’s my favorite.”


“It looks better on me!” Daphne argued flippantly. “Or off of me really. Also, mind if I join you in the tub.”


Hermione groaned, poking her head around the corner. “You’re insufferable. You’re just bringing that up because of one time, and that doesn’t even count. It was a threesome!”


Her friend scoffed. “My arse it doesn’t count. I seem to recall a time that we fucked in your bed -”


“It was your birthday, and we’d had far too much to drink, Daph. I love you, I do, but I don’t love fucking you. And also -,” she snapped, remembering the events of that Monday. “You didn’t bloody tell me that Malfoy punched Ron!”


She waved her off. “You hung up on me.”


Hermione snapped a towel at her, the end of popping against the blonde’s arse cheek as she snuck up behind her. “You were trying to detail having Draco’s cock in my mouth, and someone walked into the dressing room. Of course I hung up on you.”


She shrugged, a subtle roll of her shoulders. “Shall I remind you of it again? No, okay then.” Daphne cut off when Hermione twisted her towel again. “Cormac rang earlier. He called me because you weren’t answering.”


“I’ll text him while I’m in the bath.”


“Don’t send him a picture of your tits, Granger.”


She did anyway. Stripping after flipping the lock into place behind her, she held her phone out, lifting her chin so it wasn’t in the photo. As much as she enjoyed acting on this side of her, she’d rather photos of herself naked body not be plastered everywhere when she did finally settle down into a real career when her prime for dancing was over.


The no photography rule inside of the club was non-negotiable. As was the rule where they couldn’t discuss the patrons there, whether it be like her case with Ron and Daphne - her own best friend couldn’t tell her that he was watching these women strip -, or that you knew one of the guests was definitely cheating on their spouse. It wasn’t their business.


Setting her phone on the shelf beside the tub, Hermione sank into the hot water, gasping as it rocked against her. Cormac replied nearly immediately, with a series of emoticons that made her snort.


Why the fuck do you have to send me that when I’m already at work?


What can I say? I like to tease. Daph said you called, sorry I was still at the club.


She’d known he was switching to a night shift this week, and it was partly why she rested her ankles on the edge of the tub, taking another tantalizing photograph as the bubbles covered the one place he’d want to see. Hermione sent it. The only thing that would have made her night better was a bottle, not a glass, of wine. But she knew that while Daph would bring it to her, she was likely to throw herself in the tub just to embarrass Hermione.


So she settled for the compliments given to her, and when the phone rang, she answered breathlessly. “Hello?”


“What are you doing?” Cormac laughed on the other side of the line.


Hermione’s fingertips grazed her nipple. “I’m sitting in the tub, but you already know that. What are you doing?” She pinched the hard nub, rolling in between her fingers with a light gasp.


“Sitting in my car on a break, but it sounds like you’re having more fun than me. Tell me, Hermione, what did you do to make yourself make that noise?”


Her laugh was bubbly, and in the end, she came over her fingers twice, and Cormac was left to wank as quickly as possible before he had to return to work. “Next time - in person.”


She nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “I’ll call you.”


Hermione had told herself on several occasions that if she didn’t have bad luck, she wouldn’t have any luck at all. Fridays were good nights for her. Systematically it was hard for them get fucked up from the moment her fingers wrapped around the pole on the center stage. From the opposite pole, Daphne winked at her, swinging around it. Working alongside her best friend, it made for an enjoyable night, every night.


Slowly walking around the pole, hooking her ankle around the stainless steel before she flipped herself upside down, Hermione thought it was going to be another fantastic Friday, but slowly it went downhill. The routine was great; there was something freeing about rotating her hips, and getting out of her head for several hours.


And then again - her ex boyfriend fucked it all up.


Hermione was upside down when the double doors to the club slammed open, and Theo was hot on his heels. Daphne’s eyes connected with her own, and Hermione shook her head, mouthing, “Keep going.” It was a bloody Friday, Hermione repeated to herself. The second Friday of the month, which was when Draco let the two girls share the center stage, and fuck, the money was so much better when there was two of them.


It wasn’t like they were shagging center stage, but Hermione didn’t mind giving the illusion that they would. Hermione dropped off of the stage, smirking at a brunette man who leaned back in his seat as she straddled him. “Hello,” he breathed.


Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Hermione smiled innocently as she laid her arms over his shoulders. “Hi.” She said, and okay, maybe she was laying it on a little thick because Ron was turning red in the face. The “no touching” rule wasn’t so strictly enforced, but seeing Draco cross his arms across the room made her tilt er head to the side.


“Fuck,” the man beneath her groaned as she rotated her hips. He didn’t touch her save for when his fingers grazed her hips as he slipped bills into the side of the scrap that she barely called knickers. “Do you believe in love at first sight?” He looked as if he wanted to reach out for her as she stepped away.


She laughed lightly, spinning and bending over in front of him, pressing her arms together to showcase her tits. “No, not really. I believe in lust at first sight.” Hermione left him with that, taking a few steps backwards as she set on the edge of the stage, before tucking her legs beneath her and standing.


Hermione eyed Ron warily as he took a seat. Looking over his unruly red hair, she bit her lip as she looked at Draco, nodding towards her ex.


Draco shook his head.


It was nothing - working in front of him. If she were honest, it was a power trip to show him what he’d let go. Though she realized, just not right now, that she would have never had this chance if she’d stayed with him.


It was a topless club, one of the facts that made this establishment stand out over any of the others in London. Now at first, she hated it, but confidence was a powerful thing, and it was just as addicting as any drug. So whenever Hermione did reach behind her back to tug on the string of her bra, it was on her terms.


Daphne followed her lead every last time, and the other dancers were too busy thinking they were prudes. Hermione acknowledged that she had that reputation, that Hermione Granger couldn’t be a stripper because she was too busy guarding the lock on her chastity belt. It made her laugh because she was bloody certain that she’d done things that would make anyone else blush.


No, she was fucking smart. Waiting was the smartest choice. Hermione tugged on the flimsy string, letting her hair fall over her shoulder. Each man that eyed her hungrily, wishing they were getting to run their hands over her skin, wishing they could pin her on her back - or maybe they’d rather have her on her knees - was painfully hard.


They weren’t paying attention to their money anymore; not that they cared as she spun on a pole in front of them, locking her legs around it, and flipping herself upside down. The small bills turned into larger bills, and the ‘oh, just one drink - my wife will kill me if I come home pissed again’ mentality vanished.


She winked toward Draco, and he gave her a stubborn smirk.


Truth was, she was probably the best goddamn thing that ever happened to this club. And with Daphne recognizing her strategy, and working as two parts no matter where they were, Fridays were always their most busy days.


Somehow Hermione doubted Malfoy was upset either, considering he made more than any other day of the month when it came done to every Friday.


It was after that, that her day had gone downhill.


Ron didn’t so much as breathe a word in her direction, but it bothered her that he was here at all. All sorts of things ran through her head. She carried mace in her handbag, but she seriously doubted he would follow her outside anyway.


After hopping off of the stage for a break, and rolling her ankle because she wasn’t watching where she was going, she went to find her boss. Hermione hadn’t bothered with her top - like it mattered anyway. Plus she might have misplaced it, but she wasn’t going to admit it.


Malfoy was leaned against the bar, clutching a tumbler in his hand in which amber liquid sloshed around. “I’ll make him leave if he makes you uncomfortable.” Was what he opened with, and Hermione sat in the stool beside him.


She shrugged, her breasts shaking with the movement. “It’s not so much that I’m uncomfortable. Why is he here? What reason does he have beyond bothering me? Honestly, I’m surprised you would let him be here at all after last week. Not only did he injure one of your employees, he hit you, Draco.”


He slammed his glass on the bar harder than he should have, and she jumped, her shoulders stiffening. “Would you like to tell me how to run my club, or would you like to do your job, which is dancing on that stage, Granger, not giving lap dances.”


She arched an eyebrow. “You’ve certainly never complained what I did before, Malfoy. ” She stressed his name in anger. “What I came over here to tell you was that I don’t particularly like Ron being here, but not only because he’s my ex boyfriend, but because he was abusive, and I am scared of him.” Hermione slapped her hand against the counter, glaring at him. “No matter how much I convince you that I’m not afraid of him, you’d do well to remember that I am. “


“Shite, Hermione, wait,” he grabbed her wrist, his fingertips warm against her pulse point. “Just go back to the dressing room, yeah? I’ll come get you when Weasley is gone. I was going to let him follow the three strike policy, but if you-”


“I don’t need you to protect me,” She grumbled.


His hand rested on her shoulder. “Go to the back, and let me get rid of him. I should have made him leave immediately, but,”


“He’s a paying guest, or whatever,” she offered.


“It’s not that.” Draco insisted. “I was being a prick. Just go on.”


Hermione could see that something was wrong when she made her way out to her car, and her car was tilted. Because someone - Ron, obviously - had slashed her tires. Groaning to herself, she looked around the parking lot. Daph had already left ahead of her, taking a ride home from Theo. There was only one more car in the lot, and it was Draco’s.


She shoved her hands into the pockets of her oversized jogger, making her way back inside of the Shrieking Shack to wait in the warmth. “Malfoy?” Hermione called, slipping into his office.


He didn’t glance up at her. “What are you still doing here? I would have thought you’d be out of here already - are you crying?” There was a shuffling as he moved papers around. “What the fuck made you cry?”


She laughed, choking on the lump in her throat. “I’m not infallible, you know. I still have feelings.” Hermione threw her handbag in one of the chairs, and slumped into the other one. “It was probably Ron, but my tires are slashed.”


His eyes widened, and there was a thud against the underside of his desk. She assumed his fist had slammed into it. “Fucking Weasley, I’ll call,”


“Don’t bother,” she mumbled, looking down at her phone. “I don’t want to fuck with it, Draco. I needed to take my car to the shop this week anyway. The heat’s gone out, so it’s just another thing.”


“That’s ridiculous, but we can revisit that. Do you want me to take you home? I can log all of this in the morning.”


Hermione took one look at the massive load of receipts from the registers. “When are you going to upgrade to electronic logging? This is a ton of unnecessary work.”


He stared at her. “Would you like to take over booking?”


Shaking her head, she told him “Not that I’m conceited, but I’m fairly certain you would lose money if you took me off the floor.”


“That’s an exchange I’d be willing to make.” He grumbled under his breath. “Do you want me to take you home?” Draco repeated.


Do you mind picking me up from the club? I know it’s your night off. She tapped send, not bothering to unload the rest of her problems on Cormac. “Maybe, depends on what reply I get.” She set her cell phone on the desk. “Are you doing anything I can help you with?”


He thrust a file in her face. “Would you mind alphabetizing it while you’re waiting?” Hermione ignored how he snapped at her, and leaned back in her chair, flipping through papers while organizing them by last name. “Cormac replied to you.”


She gaped at him. “Don’t read my text messages.”


“Don’t leave your phone where I can read them then.” He laughed, throwing a file against his desk. “Really? Cormac? His idea of a pick up line is what will you do to make it worth my while.


Hermione’s nose crinkled. “I’m not calling him for his pickup lines, Malfoy.” She muttered, handing a file back to him and taking the next. “What do you care about who I’m fucking in my personal time? It’s not like he’s a guest here.”


“He has been in the past.”


She shrugged. “So what? He could still be going to a topless club, and I couldn’t care less.”


Draco leveled a look at her. “I thought the two of you were dating.”


She choked on her laugh. “ Fuck no. ” Hermione gasped for air. “Where did you hear that? Probably Daph, but no. Cormac and I would never work. We’re compatible for one thing, and it’s not literature, or art, or education, or anything else.”


“Oh? And what is it you’re compatible for?”


Hermione crossed her arms over the edge of the desk, laying her head down. It might have been because she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him. “We’re compatible for hard fucking, and after the night I’ve had, well.” She shrugged,.  


“Don’t fall asleep on my desk, Granger.” He grumbled, tapping his pen against the top of her head. And since she’d laid her head down, she didn’t notice the sharp way his eyes narrowed.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three


Cormac was fit - it was why she’d been interested in him in the first place. Malfoy wasn’t wrong in the fact that her on again, off again fuck buddy used to visit the Shrieking Shack. To be quite honest, he’d visited a few times after the two of them had shagged for the first time. Which had been in Daphne’s car one  night Hermione had borrowed it.


She hadn’t felt comfortable in following him back to his flat when she’d known him for all of ten minutes even though he used to be one of Ron’s friends-  traveling in the same social circle as her ex, and Harry.


Hermione shouldn’t say they had fucked in the car. He’d bent her over the hood, binding her wrists loosely with a scarf, and flipped her dress up. He’d pulled her knickers to the side and slid inside of her while they only had the cover of darkness in an alley.


She left her boss with a wave, letting the heavy security door fall shut behind her. He’d grumbled a goodbye, and Hermione simply shrugged it off. She knew what was waiting for her in the parking lot - the beginning of a long night that would leave her, hopefully, sated. Her trainers squeaked against the freshly mopped floor of the club. Adjusting her leggings, she pushed the door open, glancing down just to double check that her keys were in her hand.


With any luck Daphne wouldn’t be home because she’d be with Theo, but she had her doubts that her friend would make a move at all.


She found Cormac leaned against the back bumper of his car with his arms folded over his chest. The dark blue jumper he wore was tight around his biceps, and a slow smirk curved her lips. “What happened to your ca-”


She cut him off, tossing her bag onto the hood of his car and sliding her arms around his neck. “Shut up about my car.” Hermione grumbled, standing on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his. “Surely you didn’t think I only wanted a ride home, did you?”


“I’d bloody hoped not.” His hands gripped her arse, lifting her up while she wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him roughly. “Could fuck you over the hood for old time’s sake.”


She snorted, twisting the hair at the nape of his neck around her fingers. “You say that every time we’re near a car, and absolutely not. I’d rather not have my boss have a full show as I get fucked.” Heat bloomed in her lower belly however, at that exact thought. She could imagine it rather clearly: Malfoy walking out to his car and her with her legs spread and -


“It’s not like Malfoy is a prude,” he chuckled low in her ear. “I bet he’d like the show.”


“And I,” her voice cracked, and of course it was only because she hadn’t had a drink, and not for any other reason. “Am sure you just want to show off.” Unhooking her legs from around his waist, and standing upright once more, Hermione grabbed her bag and opened the passenger side door. “Or we could have sex inside of the car this time.”


He was simple to convince. Cormac locked the doors before reaching across the seat, but then he leaned back as Hermione climbed over the center console and straddled his lap. Her hair slipped from her ponytail as she pressed herself against him, whimpering when his fingers ran up her side, grazing her breasts. Lifting her arms as he tugged the shirt over her head, Hermione watched him, nibbling her bottom lip as he reached around her to unclasp her bra.


His tongue slid against her nipple as he cupped her other breast, his thumb sliding across the stiffened nub. Grinding herself against his hard erection, she moaned softly. “Oh,” she didn’t have to look at him to know he was grinning as her head tipped back.


Hermione’s nails scratched the skin exposed by his collar as his large hand slid between them, rubbing her already wet cunt through through the thin fabric. “I can already feel how wet you are,” he groaned.


“Then why don’t you do something about that?” She fired back, rolling her hips, and grinding against his hand. “Pull my pants down, and, fuck ,” her moan was guttural as Cormac tugged the hem of her leggings down, sliding his hand in her knickers to rub her clit.


“You’re so fucking mouthy, you know that?” He muttered, pulling her hair, and pressing his palm to the middle of her back to bring her forward. Rolling her nipple between his teeth carefully, he slid a finger inside of her. “Always acting like a bossy little bitch when what you really want is for someone to tell you what you want.”


Hermione grinned, her fingers grasping his hair roughly, and tugging when he flipped the console open, and pulled a small knife out. “Don’t you dare cut my knickers, Cormac, or I swear-”


“Just your pants, baby.” He reassured her, and even as she told him no, that she’d just slide them off, there was an audible tearing as Cormac cut a rip then tore them the rest of the way open.


She fumbled with his belt buckle, pulling it off, and throwing it into the back before she unbuttoned his trousers. “Fucking arse,” she muttered, and he slid his fingers into her mouth - presumably to shut her up. Hermione’s tongue slid against his finger, and she could taste herself on them as she sucked them clean.


As he held his hard cock in his hand, Hermione adjusted herself over him, and impaled herself on him with a loud moan. “Fuck,” she imagined if anyone was in the parking lot, they would have heard his groan.


Glancing to the side, she saw no one was there, but Draco’s car was still parked close by. She should have stopped them then, should have told Cormac to wait and fuck her into her mattress at home, but she didn’t. It couldn’t have been because the thought of Malfoy seeing her get fucked made her even wetter, caused her cries to grow louder. Absolutely not.


It was just that - “Cormac!” It wasn’t a gasp, but a shriek, and her palm slammed against the window that had fogged up. He thrust up, his cock bottoming out inside of her, and her hand slipped. Hermione’s head fell to the side, strands of her hair sticking to her skin despite the cold night.


And she froze for a moment as she realized she was staring directly at Draco, and he was staring back at her in surprise. His jaw was clenched, and she should have looked away. Instead her fingers slid through soft blond hair that didn’t belong to Draco at all, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t remembering what he felt like inside of her.


Just the fucking thought, combined with Cormac’s thumb rubbing against her clit pushed her over the edge.


And she kept her eyes opened, focused on Draco as if it were impossible to look away. He watched her, not moving from his spot on the ice, and of course the man below her didn’t notice at all.


Hermione supposed that was when everything began to shift, if she looked back on it.

On the drive back to her flat - he’d asked if she wanted to return to his, but she told him no quickly - Hermione had bent over across the center console, and sucked him off. His fingers slipped along the curve of her arse, sliding into her dripping cunt as he drove along the side streets to her complex.


While the traitorous thoughts about her boss, her friend as well she reminded herself, hadn’t left her completely, Hermione was able to push them away.


Daphne was lounging on their sofa again when Hermione let herself in, pulling her key back from the lock and throwing it into the dish on the small table by the door. Waving to her friend, Hermione took Cormac’s hand, and led him down the hallway to her bedroom.


He’d torn her clothes from her - ripping her jumper right over her head and tossing it onto the floor. Her leggings, which were already torn, ended up on the floor while he threw her onto her bed. Dragging her knickers down with his teeth, Cormac ate her out, fingering her until she was moaning so loudly that her neighbors from above banged on their floor.


The night was unfortunately cut short when his cell phone rang, and it was his boss. She’d shrugged, telling him to answer it, but had still sank down on him anyway. It was shitty luck that he had to leave, but Hermione pecked him on the cheek. “I’ll see you some other time,” she told him, grinning as she laid back against the pillows of her bed.


He looked as if he was considering telling his boss - who was still on the phone, she should add - to fuck off before crawling back in between her legs. “I’m free this weekend.”


Hermione gave a shrug, reaching between her legs to rub her clit in slow, teasing circles. “I’m not sure what I’ll be doing, but I’ll call you.”


“What? Sorry, I’ll be there soon.” Cormac tossed his phone onto her dresser. “Are you going to make yourself come, Hermione?”


She nodded, pinching her nipple as she rubbed her sensitive clit with two fingers. “I’m terribly worked up. How much time do you have?”


He swallowed. “I’d say I could stay ten minute before my boss is riding my ass.”


“Well,” she huffed playfully. “That’s not nearly enough time to fuck me how I want, but I’ll let you watch while I play with my pussy.” Hermione drew her legs up, her feet flat against the sheets. “Or would you rather leave?”


He laughed. “Definitely not, baby. Make yourself come for me,” Cormac’s voice was soft, and she shivered under his gaze.


She knew he would stay if she asked, and she considered it. Considered crawling forward on her hands and knees to pull his trousers back down, and wrap her lips around the tip of his cock.


Instead, she touched herself, her fingers sliding against her wet cunt, and circling her clit. He whispered to her how fucking hot she was with her legs spread, how pretty her tits looked, but they would look better if she was bouncing on his cock.


Hermione came hard, moaning his name loudly enough for her neighbors, and definitely Daphne to hear. Crawling forward, she sat on her knees on her bed, and raised her hands to his lips, watching as his tongue darted out to taste her.


“I want you again, and soon.” He growled.


She nodded breathlessly, watched him dress and leave before collapsing against her bed.


Daphne burst into her room not even twenty minutes after Cormac had left, grinning ear to ear, and waving her phone in her hand. She was still on a call, but Hermione couldn’t make out who it was on the line. “Get dressed; we’re going out for breakfast.”


“Daph,” Hermione grumbled, not moving from her spot. “It’s nearly five in the morning. I’m exhausted, and not at all hungry.”


“You’re telling me you haven’t worked up an appetite after all the fucking you just did? Bullshit.” She bent to grab Hermione’s leggings. “ Why are your leggings ripped open in the crotch?”


If Hermione was the type to get embarrassed, she would have blushed a deep red, but all she did was swing her legs over the side of the bed. “He was impatient,” Hermione shrugged. “Who wants to go to breakfast?”


“Draco and Theo rang; that restaurant by Draco’s flat is open twenty four hours, and I would kill for some decent bacon right now.”


Hermione rapidly shook her head, remembering exactly what had happened only a few hours ago outside the club. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes tomorrow at the Shrieking Shack, much less right now. “Daph, no, I’m telling you I can’t.”


Her stubborn friend rolled her eyes. “Get dressed, Hermione. They’re already waiting on us, and I don’t give a damn if you’re tired. I haven’t gotten any sleep because of your loud fucking and you-” Hermione’s face did heat up as Daphne imitated her moan , one that was ridiculously accurate, right beside the speaker of her phone. “Oh, fuck, sorry, Draco. I should have muted it.”


Hermione lunged across the room, hanging up the call while glaring at her friend. “I can’t see Draco right now.”


“Why the fuck not? You saw him a few hours ago, and from the looks of it, the two of you looked chummy at the bar.”


“He was a prick to me actually and then he tried to make it up to me by kicking Ron out. But that’s not why - something happened after the club closed.”


Daphne’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God, did you fuck him? Hermione Granger, did you fuck him? Again? And then you fucked Cormac? You little slut.” She laughed, dodging when Hermione moved to smack her. “Was it as good as it was the first time?”


“For fuck’s sake, I didn’t fuck Draco, alright? I fucked Cormac in the parking lot and well, I don’t know how to explain it but I think I’ve fucked up our weak professional relationship.”


Daph scoffed. “Please, Draco has never stopped being interested in you. On some level you must know his teasing isn’t just teasing, Hermione. That man wants you.”


Hermione swallowed, shifting her weight uncomfortably. “While Cormac was fucking me, my hand slid down the window, wiping away where it had fogged up.”


“Oh, my fucking God,” her friend groaned, smacking her palm against her forehead, seeing where this story was headed. “Okay,” Daph shook her head. “So what if he saw you getting nailed in Cormac’s car? It’s not like he’s never seen you naked, Granger, and he sees you half naked or naked five nights a week. I mean fuck, you carried on a full conversation while topless with him earlier. What does this matter?”


Hermione bent down to grab her knickers, balancing on leg to slide one leg through them. “It’s that-”


“Are you blushing? Oh my fucking God, you’re blushing. ” Daphne pinched her cheeks, grinning ear to ear. “You want him to be jealous, don’t you?”


“No, I don’t!” Hermione snapped, grabbing her bra from the floor and reaching behind her back. “I don’t, Daph. He’s my boss, and a really good friend of mine, and I just don’t want to feel this way. He’s just Draco.”


“Daddy,” Daphne corrected automatically, giggling when Hermione’s face grew red.


Hermione stomped towards her closet, ripping it open with far more force than necessary. “Shut your mouth, Greengrass. I thought we agreed not to talk about that.”


Her friend hopped onto Hermione’s bed, laying on her stomach and kicking her legs up behind her. “I never agreed to that. Tell me how you feel, Hermione. You have to be open with someone.”


Pulling another oversized jumper over her head - she liked how they made her feel small, and how soft they were against her skin -Hermione winced. “I could just ignore this all together. It’s not like it means anything.” At Daphne’s scoff, she continued. “He saw me, obviously, and I saw him, but I - I didn’t look away, Daphne.”


Her friend blinked slowly. “You didn’t..look away?”


Hermione nodded. “The whole time, and when my fingers were in Cormac’s hair, all I could think about was Draco. The same man that was fucking staring at me like he wanted to tear the car door open. Daphne, he was furious.”


“Describe him to me then.”


She plopped down on the bed beside Daphne, crossing her legs, and pulling the hem of her jumper over her knees. “He was like, well, I don’t know. Do you remember how angry he was when Ron came into the Shack on Monday?” A nod. “His jaw was clenched like that, and his hands curled into fists before he shoved them into his pockets. His eyes,” Hermione said louder, flushing as she remembered. “They were-”


“Intense?” Daphne supplied, rolling onto her side. “Did he leave? I somehow doubt Malfoy would have stayed. I don’t peg him as a voyeur.”


Hermione shook her head. “The whole time, he kept looking at me, and it was like I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to, and then I came, and I screamed. It’s a bloody miracle I didn’t scream the wrong name, Daph.”


“This is a rather large development.” She agreed. And then, “It doesn’t change the fact that they are waiting on us. You need to go, or he’s going to have even more questions.”


“He’ll just think I’m fucking -”


“No, Hermione, you cannot hide because you’re scared to see him. It’s nothing. I doubt he’ll even mention it. Especially in front of Theo. It’s when the two of you are alone that I’d worry.”


Draco didn’t mention her sex life, but Daphne did. And not just one time. No, no, no, the bitch kept bringing it up, and Hermione was seconds away from making use of the knife laying across Draco’s plate.


It had started out small.


Hermione slid into the booth, finding herself sitting beside the object of both her fantasies, and frustrations. Daphne sat across from them, scooting herself closer to Theo. And it was when he opened his mouth, that Hermione was positive her friend had texted him with some of the details.


“So, Granger. Why is your hair so fucked?” Theo asked, taking his menu from the waiter that stood at their table.


Draco stiffened beside her. “Water, please.” She told the waiter, plucking the menu from his hand and flipping it open in front of her. “I’m sorry, did you say something to me?” She asked Theo when he coughed into his hand. “I was too busy ignoring you.”


“Why’s your hair fucked, Granger? What were you doing in the parking lot after work?” He repeated, a grin crossing his face. There was a thud beneath the table as Draco, she assumed, kicked Theo’s shin.


“Why are you asking? Since when are you so interested in my sex life?” Hermione fired back, her fingers tightening on the laminated pages of her menu.


Theo rested his chin on his fist as he leaned on the table, the old wood creaking. “Well, you and Draco were there pretty late from what I heard, and -”


“She was fucking McLaggen in the parking lot.” Draco rumbled at her side. “Not me, but if it had been me, at least we would have been inside where there was heat.” It couldn't have been an accident when his fingers brushed against her thigh.


“Cars have heat, Malfoy.” Theo argued.


“True, but he didn’t bother to turn it on.”


“So, a shag in a car did that to your hair then? Offense intended, but it looks like a bird nest that fell out of the tree, and then hit every branch on the way down.” She was going to strangle Theo with the chain that hung between the front counters.


“Oh, no,” Daphne remarked, twirling her straw in her drink. “It went on for at least another hour once she got home. Sadly for our dear Hermione, Cormac was called into work, and she was left all alone.”


“Would you shut up?” Hermione finally hissed, her eyes narrowing as she threw her wallet on the table. “I’ll be back; I need to use the loo.” It was a lie, and judging by the way Daphne clammed up, her friend knew it. Hermione slipped out of the booth, making her way to the back of the restaurant, and pushed the women’s door open.


Not bothering to turn the lock, she just leaned against the sink, and put her face in her hands. It wasn’t like her to care at all, at least about trivial things such as relationships. No, Ronald had ruined that rather spectacularly for her. Two years of her life wasted - yes, it was a waste when she thought of all the things she ought to have been doing - and what did she have to show for it?


She looked up as the door was pushed open, expecting to see Daph coming to give her a sheepish apology, but it was so much worse.


“This is a women’s restroom.” She told him, resting her palms against the edge of the sink, and gripping it tightly.


“I’m well aware,” Draco told her, locking the door behind him. “What’s wrong with you?”


“What’s wrong with me?” She echoed. “It’s not as if I enjoy hearing about my sex life second hand. I was there.”


He sucked in a breath. “Yeah, so was I.”


She wished the earth would open up and swallow her whole. Her confidence was higher than it had ever been in her life, coming from a childhood where she’d had buck teeth, and had been flat chested, and the point was that if it had been anyone but him who had seen her - Hermione wouldn’t have cared. She was comfortable with her body, but this wasn’t the same as being in front of him while working. “I should have looked away.”


He shrugged, taking a step toward her. “Yet you didn’t. Is there a reason for that, Hermione?” His chest was an inch from hers as he towered over her. “Tell me, was there a reason you didn’t look away while you came over his cock?”


She swallowed, slowly tapping her fingers against the while porcelain, her nervousness etched into her face. “I was surprised that you looked so angry.” The lie slipped between her lips too easily, and his eyes only grew darker. “It’s not as if it’s the first time someone’s shagged in the parking lot.” Hermione shrugged, casting her gaze away from him.


“That’s not why, and you know it. I don’t know why you lie to yourself.” He breathed, tilting her chin up. “I saw that guilty look cross your face when you screamed. Who did you pity? Was it me because I was forced to watch,” he pinned her against the sink with his body, his hands covering hers. “McLaggen fuck my little girl?”


Hermione shivered as his breath fanned across her neck, shaking her head quickly, but she didn’t move away from him.


“Or was it,” his knee slid between legs, parting them slightly. “Because you weren’t even thinking of him while he was fucking you?”


Hermione made a mistake when she looked up at him. “You’re conceited, and you have no idea what you’re talking about.”


He let go of her instantly, and she ached for him. “I don’t?” Draco laughed. “As much as you like to pretend nothing has changed, you know that everything has.”


There was no need for him to tell her in detail, to remind her of exactly how good they were together. Hermione clenched her thighs together, the motion nearly unnoticeable, beneath her jogger. “We agreed that it wouldn’t change anything, Draco. I can’t work for you, and want you at the same time. It wouldn’t work.”


“You’re the one who’s  not interested in trying.”


She gaped at him, her fingers fisting in his wool jogger as he pulled away. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Hermione hissed. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. It’s-”


“We could start with how you’re lying to yourself.” His fingers tangled in her hair. “Hermione, I don’t fucking care that you’re with other men. I care if you’re with them because you think I’m not an option for you.”


“You’re my boss,” she growled, and really, if that was what she thought, she’d have let go of him.


Or she’d have shoved him away when he turned her and slammed her against the wall, causing the mirror across from them to shake. “Who gives a fuck?” Draco snarled, and then -


He was kissing her hard, lifting her up, and wrapping her legs around his hips. She gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair.


“Draco,” she whimpered, and then came the pounding on the door.


Setting her down, he didn’t let her go. “What?” He called out.


“Our food is at the table. Daphne and I ordered for the two of you. Try not to break anything, yeah?” Theo called back, and she could hear his footsteps as they grew quieter.


Wide-eyed, she stared at him. “That didn’t happen.”


He grinned. “It did.”


Rolling her eyes, she stressed, “This can’t happen.” Her heart didn’t slow down as she left him barely standing against the wall. In fact, she found that it hurt her to think of not dragging him back inside the miniscule room.



Chapter Text



Chapter Four


Daphne had apologized profusely to Hermione.


She didn’t particularly care that Daphne and Theo had tried to team up and push her towards Draco. She was certain it would have happened on it’s own. It was clear from their short encounter in the women’s restroom that his touch still made her feel like flames licked against her skin. And to be called his little girl, it was- she wasn’t sure how to look at him and not slam him against the nearest wall.


But she behaved herself.


The next few days at the Shrieking Shack passed without a word exchanged between them of how he’d told her how she refused to try, or how good they still were together. She found that her gaze strayed toward him more than she’d like to admit. He knew it too; the smug bastard had flirted with a random bitch in the club.


Ignoring each other had gone well until he mistakenly sent her a text that was meant for someone else while she sat in the middle of her Tuesday class. I can’t pay back the loan all at once. The club is finally bringing in what it’s supposed to. Can we arrange payments?


Sliding out from the table, she quietly made her way out of the room and into the brightly lit corridor. Pressing call, and lifting her cell phone to her ear, it only rang three times. “Hello?” He sounded worked up, and there was a clink in the background that she knew was ice sliding against the inside of a tumbler. “Granger, did you pocket dial me?”


“What loan did you take out for the club?” She asked, stuttering over the beginning of her sentence. “Draco, that message-”


“Fuck,” he hissed, and there was a loud crashing sound in the background. “Fuck, I’ll clean it up later; don’t worry about it. It’s nothing you need to worry about.”


“No,” she said. “It didn’t sound good. Tell me the truth. I already know, Malfoy, and unless you want me digging around in your affairs-”


He snorted. “Are you trying to guilt me into telling you? As my employee, it’s really none of your business how I make this club run.”


She drew her lip in between her teeth. “And as your friend? What about then, Draco? I could help you. How much is the loan?”


The four beeps signaled his entrance into his office. “I don’t want you worrying about this. It’s your job to dance, alright? There’s no need for you to be involved in this-”


“It’s fucking bad, isn’t it?” There was a long pause. “Who did you take a loan from, Malfoy. I swear to God  if you don’t tell me-”


“You’ll what?” She could hear the smile in his voice. “What could you possibly threaten me with?”


“I’ll quit.”


Malfoy sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry, you’ll what?”


She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “You said it yourself, that everything has changed. I know that you love seeing me there every night. If you can’t trust me as your friend, then why would I stick around? There’s other clubs I could-”


“That’s low for even you, Hermione.” He said quietly. “I don’t see what difference it makes, but under no circumstances can anyone else find out about this. It would cause a panic about jobs, and I can’t afford it right now. Not Daphne either.”


“I know how to keep a secret, Daddy. ” It was a thrill to say it once more, to hear his labored breathing as she slumped against the white wall. “I’ve kept that secret for eight months, haven’t I?”


“You fucking witch,” he growled.


She considered meeting him at his flat. She knew exactly where it was, and having picked her car up earlier from Sirius, it wasn’t like she had to depend on Daph for her coming and goings. Her deliberation was short lived because she knew if she let herself set foot in his posh flat - that she would end up in his bed with him.


Tangled amongst the sheets with sweat dripping from their bodies while she begged for release. As much as she wanted to do just that, and she did, she really did, Hermione text him to ask if they could meet after hours at the club. All of the employees, and guests would be long gone by two in the morning.


The parking lot was empty when she pulled in, parking beside his black sports car. Tightening her jacket around her, Hermione walked briskly to the set of glass double doors. Her copy of the key to the Shack dangled from her keychain and she unlocked it quickly, casting a look over her shoulder.


Inside, the club was bathed in a soft pink light; Draco hadn’t flipped them off yet, and before she made her way past the bar, she ducked behind it to grab a bottle. Her favorite wine was towards the front, and she hurried towards his office.


And then the normal code didn’t work, and with her eyebrows drawing together, she punched in a guess. Zero - Nine - One - Nine. The green light lit up and she laughed as she pushed the door open. “My birthday? Are you bloody serious?”


He tapped a ballpoint pen against the calendar that covered his desk. “You told me passcodes are typically important dates, Granger.”


“Yes, and since when is September nineteenth and important date for you, Malfoy?”


He snorted. “Are you going to sit down, or what? I’d rather not listen to you scold me all night.”


She dropped her bag into the left chair and sunk into the right. “Hand me that corkscrew that’s in your desk, would you?” Hermione caught it and jammed it into the cork on the bottle. “So, start from the beginning?”


Draco sighed, leaning back in his chair and glaring at the ceiling. “When I inherited the Shrieking Shack from my father, it wasn’t doing well. Lucius hoped that new blood would help, but it didn’t. Before Daphne told me she wanted me to hire you, fuck, before Daphne even worked here - it was taking my personal bank account to fund the club. It wasn’t profitable.”


She took a long drink of wine, setting the glass bottle on his desk. “I see, and you took a loan?” He nodded. “Why is it that I have the awful hunch you didn’t take a loan from a bank?”


He rolled his eyes. “Who else would I take a loan from, Granger?”


“It’s my well educated guess that you’ve taken a loan from someone who would rather break your kneecaps, or worse, than someone who would double your interest. Am I right?”


The man across from her was silent, but with the way his eyes darkened, Hermione’s stomach dropped. “I missed a few payments, and now he wants it all at once, or he could take over the club completely if he wanted to.”


“Meaning you used the club as collateral.” Hermione deadpanned. “Who was it? Anyone I know?”


He snorted, yanking open the bottom drawer of it and pulling a bottle of scotch out by the neck. “I have no doubt you’ve heard his name, but he was an associate of my father. What do you know about Tom Riddle?”


The glass of wine she held in her hand slipped in her shock, and shattered against the floor. The dark red liquid splashed across her trainers and her joggers. “I know you would be lucky if all he did was break your kneecaps, Draco. What were you thinking?”


“I was considering the fact that I hadn’t planned on missing payments at all, and this would have been fine within the year. I’ve been making monthly payments to him for a year, and I’d only missed the last two. Suffice to say, he doesn’t appreciate tardiness.”


She scoffed. “Fucking clearly. I met him all of one time, and - that was why you were in such a dreadful mood that night.” Hermione accused. “You said you needed a distraction; it was because he’d just left your office, wasn’t it?”


“How the fuck do you remember that? It was early March and it’s December now.”


“You’ll find there’s not much I don’t remember about you.” She murmured, kicking her shoes off and peeling her drenched socks off. “Fuck, will you hand me that first aid kit?”


He grabbed it for her while she hobbled around his desk. “Stop walking on your foot if you’ve cut it, you idiot.” Draco grumbled, seizing her by the waist and sitting her atop his calendar. “It’s not bad. So,” he said while he wiped her foot off, cleaning the cut that dripped a tiny bit of blood. “now you know.”


“How much do you owe him?”




“If you were to call him and ask to meet him to pay it off, how much would you need to hand over?” Hermione asked softly, unsure of why her voice was so soft. It wasn’t as if anyone else was in the club. “You’re stalling; tell me.”


“There’s about £50,000 left to pay. Don’t look at me like that. Running a business like this isn’t cheap.”


She nodded, an idea that he would most certainly hate already forming in her head. So she didn’t mention it, choosing to take care of it herself. “I understand. What will you do? I could pay for it.”


Draco shook his head, not noticing at all how she drew her bottom lip in between her teeth. “Absolutely not. I spoke with Tom earlier, and we’ve come to an agreement.”


“Do you get to keep your kneecaps?” She sniggered. “Draco, would you mind grabbing a new wine glass, and the mop? My foot is throbbing.”


It was a lie, but he only rolled his eyes before raising from his chair, his fingertips brushing the insides of her thighs. She shivered beneath his touch, waiting for the black door to close before she sank into the chair, unlocking his phone -also his birthday- and finding Tom Riddle’s number. Hermione texted it to herself, and then deleted it from Draco’s phone.


And then he was back before she could drop his phone. Even with the beeping to warn her when he was coming through his door any moment she froze.


“Are you going through my phone, Granger?” He asked her, tossing her a bottle of Merlot.

Glancing down, she felt a very real irritation when she saw she’d accidentally tapped on a text message thread from Katie Bell, one of the dancers who hadn’t hid her jealousy well. “Why the fuck is Katie sending you topless pictures?”


His eyes widened, and she noticed he’d forgotten the mop. His nostrils flared as he growled at her. “Why the fuck do you care? It’s not as if I wouldn’t find you sending pictures of your tits to McLaggen i I went through your phone.”


Hermione dropped his phone to the top of his desk, leaving the bottle of wine. “I’m fucking jealous. ” She hissed, yanking on the shoulder strap of her purse. “You’re the one who told me I was the one who was unwilling to try, but I’m thrilled I didn’t bother because it’s clear you’re the one who doesn’t care.”


“Hermione,” he caught her by the crook of her elbow. “Katie sent it to me randomly, and I had to discuss with her why she couldn’t do that. You weren’t here tonight to watch her storm out of here in tears because I told the bitch I wasn’t interested.”


Her mouth dried as she looked up at him. “Did she quit?”


“Why? Because you can’t stand to look at her?” Draco smirked, his grip loosening on her arm. “She quit.”


“Good.” Hermione bit out, turning away from him. “I’m going to go home, and I’ll see you Thursday.” If she came out of her meeting with Tom Riddle in one piece.


Her phone was ringing when she unlocked the door to her flat, and she answered without even glancing at the name. “Hello?” She dumped her keys into the dish on the table, shrugging out of her jacket while looking around the room.


Daphne had left a note on the table, telling Hermione to not wait up for her since she’d gone to visit Astoria.


“I had something to ask you.” Draco’s voice was low, raspy in her ear as she heard the familiar sound of ice sliding around in his scotch glass. “I got home, and realized something you told me in my office.”


Hermione made her way into her bedroom, sitting on the edge of her bed. “Oh? What would that be? It must be important if it couldn’t wait until Thursday.”


He laughed, and her insides felt as if they were twisting. “You told me there wasn’t much you didn’t remember about me. I wanted you to explain that.”


Her breath caught sharply in her throat. “I - that’s hardly appropriate.” She said weakly, laying against her pillows. “Why would you want to know about that?”


“If you tell me something, I’ll do the same with you.” He told her quietly, and her fingers strayed to the edge of her pants.


“You’ve been drinking.” Hermione pointed out. “This is a bad idea, Draco. You’re my boss now.”


“I was your boss when I fucked you from behind while you ate Daphne’s wet cunt.” He rasped, and fuck, she whimpered. “Somehow that didn’t stop you from begging for more of me.”


Hermione shuddered, inching her joggers down her legs while holding the phone up with her shoulder. “There’s nothing I have forgotten about you,” she murmured. “I - you’re impossible to forget. That’s all, but it doesn’t mean this is a good idea.”


He laughed, and she was addicted to the rich sound. “Tell me, Hermione.” He coaxed her. “Do you remember how full you feel when I slide inside of your tight cunt?”


“I do,” she gasped, her fingers sliding into her knickers to touch herself. “I remember how you fucked me against a wall in university where anyone could have seen us, how you put my legs over your shoulders, and how you wouldn’t let me come. I miss that, the way you controlled,” her breathing hitched as her finger slid across her clit. “Me. I miss that the most.”


“Would you like to know what I miss, princess?”


She nodded fervently to no one, and mumbled, “Yes.”


“I miss the way your throat feels around my cock when I fuck your pretty little mouth, but you like that too, don’t you? I remember how you wanted me to be rough, how you wanted to be dominated, and you wanted someone to take care of you , didn’t you?”


She whimpered loudly. “I did - I still do, because Ron - he was, well, you know.”


“I’m quite aware.” He rumbled. “Do you know what kind of torture it is to watch you dance every night? It’s exquisite torture, and all I can think about is taking you into my office.”


“I’ve imagined what it would be like to be bent over your desk more times than I want to admit.” She moaned, her finger sliding inside of herself. “Oh, you’re the worst.”


“When you were sitting on my desk earlier, I thought of how easy it would be to tug your leggings down, spread your legs, and eat you out.”


Hermione legs shook as she forced herself to stop before she came. “You could do that if you were here,” she told him weakly. “I’m dripping, and it didn’t take anymore than a few words. Of all the bloody men who could have been my boss, it had to be you.”


Draco ignored her. “Touch yourself for me. Close your eyes, and imagine I’m in your bedroom spreading your legs, and it’s my fingers rubbing your clit.”


“Only if you’ll do the same,” she breathed. “I want to know you’re stroking your cock while you’re listening to me. Draco, fuck, I’m so-”


“I know.” He told her softly, and she knew he was smirking. “Tell me what you’re wearing, princess.”


“I’m,” there was a rustling on her end as she set the phone down, yanking her top over her head so she could unclasp her bra and lay against the pillows. “I’ve just taken my top, and my bra off. Now I’m sliding my knickers down my legs.” Hermione told him, hooking her thumb into the waistband as she held the phone. “What are you doing?”


“I’m sitting in my living room with my trousers undone, and I’m gripping my cock while I listen to you whimper. I’m sure you remember how you can’t come without my permission, don’t you?”


She sucked in a breath. “I don’t think that’s fair; I’m incredibly needy.” Hermione argued, rubbing her clit while listening to his voice. It was low raspiness that fucked her up, and the way he was blunt with her - telling her exactly what he wanted to do to her. “Daddy, please?”


He chuckled, and she felt week. “Absolutely not; you’ve teased me for months, Hermione. I’m not going to take mercy on you now just because you’re begging me.”


“And if I come without permission?” She dared to ask him, and was disappointed by the silence. “Talk to me then,”


“The weather-”


She cut him off with a growl. “I meant tell me what you would do if you were here. Would you tease me? Would you put me on my knees? Would you-”


“I’d ask you to strip for me, only me.” He told her roughly, and her stomach tightened once more. “And then I’d put you on your knees to suck my cock while I fucked your mouth. My real question is what do you want me to do?”


She was quiet for a moment, whimpering as her nail scraped against her sensitive clit, making her tremble. “I’d want you to fuck me,” she whispered, and he was the only one who made her quite this nervous. “while I was on my back with my legs over your shoulders because you feel so much deeper like that. Then I’d drag your hand to my throat..”


But of course he made her say it outloud.


“I want you to choke me, Daddy.” She grinned at his loud groan, knowing he was just as fucked as she was. “I want you to fuck me like a whore, until I’m screaming, until I’m begging to come over your cock.. Can I have that?” Hermione’s two fingers slid inside of her, curling against her walls, and making her cry out his name.


“Fucking - can I see you?”


She panicked.


“Not in person because I know you’ll probably flee your apartment like a fucking idiot, but-”


She had a particularly nasty habit of cutting him off. “Video chat?” Hermione asked him, already swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She padded across the room to yank her chair out from her desk. “I’d rather use my laptop for this; it would be better quality.”


He groaned. “Fine, let me just walk across my flat, that has all glass windows, with my fucking cock in my hand.”


She giggled, and when his name came across the screen, she swallowed before answering. This was still a bad idea even if they weren’t physically together. It was only leading to one thing, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop.


Draco came across her screen with his hair deliciously tousled, the top several buttons of his shirt undone, and his tie draped around his neck. His sleeves were rolled up, and her tongue darted out to dampen her lips. “I’d like for you to tie my hands with your tie.” She told him.


Hermione leaned back in the chair, bracing her feet against the edge of her desk, and fully exposing herself. At the bottom of the screen, she could see his cock in his grip as he slowly stroked it. “Oh, my fucking God.” It was an animalistic sound that made her shudder at the thought of it sounding directly in her ear. “I want nothing more than to drive to your flat.”


“Yours would be better. It’s more private.” She shrugged, reaching to touch her clit once more. “Is this what you wanted to see, Daddy? It would be so much better if it was you instead of my fingers.” Softly moaning as her fingers sunk inside of her. “Your fingers are so much longer than mine, and-”


He was smirking. “Do you remember how I like to punish you?” She nodded. “Tell me, princess. I want to hear you say it.”


She stuttered over her words while her fingers moved faster. “When it was Daphne and I, and I came without your permission, you,” she moaned at the fucking memory. “you spanked me. You made me count them, and then you made me thank you for them because they felt so bloody good.”


“Then you know what will happen if you come now, don’t you?”


She stared at him, her eyes narrowing before a wicked grin spread across her face. “Oh, Daddy,” she said quietly. “I want you to punish me.” With her fantasies being pulled to the forefront of her mind, and the way he looked at her as if he wanted to devour her, she couldn’t help but come over her fingers.


Hermione screamed, but not his name. Her neighbors would undoubtedly know just how kinky she was with the loud cry of “Daddy!” that spilled from her lips.


And then, while watching him stroke his cock, and telling him “Won’t you come for me? I could sink to my knees, or I could straddle your waist, and ride you.” Hermione sucked her fingers clean.


Draco was going to spank her until she couldn’t sit down, and really, that was exactly what she wanted.


Chapter Text

Chapter Five


She waited for Daphne to leave before opening the message from Draco that contained Tom Riddle’s phone number. She had only met the man once inside of the Shrieking Shack, and it had been while she sauntered off the center stage that he complimented her.


Riddle was a tall man, perhaps an inch more so than Malfoy, with dark brown hair that she thought would be soft to run her fingers through. And while he always looked pleasant, and he shamelessly flirted if he thought it would earn him a way in, Hermione could never shake the uneasy feeling of his eyes settling on her. Deep, and fathomless, that was where is attractiveness ended - they were brown, but the only description she could drum up was charcoal.


Nearly black, and she almost balked when she remembered the slimy feeling that slid over her skin whenever she thought of meeting him again. It wouldn’t take long, Hermione reminded herself. She was brave enough, and she would be certain to arrange the drop off in a public place. What she was most worried about, was whether he would take the money.


He would benefit from Draco paying it out at the ridiculously high interest he’d demanded, but considering Riddle had first asked for the entire sum back at once, she would hedge her bets that he would take money.


Hermione took a seat on her couch, tucking her bare legs beneath her, and brought the phone to her ear. One ring, two rings, and then on the fifth - just when she thought he would ignore the unknown caller-, a velvety voice sounded in her ear. “Hello?” The low, raspy drawl reminded her immediately of Malfoy, and of the previous night. “Hello?”


“Hi, this is Hermione Granger; I work as a dancer at the Shrieking Shack. We met briefly once, but whether you remember me isn’t all that important.” Her heart thudded in her chest as she heard a quiet chuckle, and in the background she could hear him telling whoever was with him to leave him in private. “If you’re not awfully busy, I’d like to discuss something with you.”


“I remember you.” There was the sound of ice sliding against the edge of what she imagined was a frosted tumbler as he tipped it to his lips. “You’re the dancer that attended university with the younger Malfoy, correct?”


She faltered, her toes curling. “I’m one of them yes. Daphne was the other -”


“Ah,” he said softly. “The eldest Greengrass. I know her family rather well - her father is a prick. No, you’re the one whom he has feelings ,” Tom sneered the word, “for. Did you know that Rabastan made the comment of how he’d like to fuck your tits and Malfoy broke his nose?”


It sounded strangely familiar to what Daph had been telling her of Goyle. “No, I didn’t know that. I didn’t call you to discuss emotions though.” Stay on task, Granger.


“No? I can’t imagine what you would be calling me for.”


She blurted, “I know that Draco owes you fifty thousand pounds.”


Her heart seemed to stop beating as he sucked in a sharp breath. “Yes, well, I’m not sure how beneficial it is for him to tell his strippers he’s in hot water, but I suppose it’s not my decision how he runs his club. Have you called me to plead with me to forget about it? I assure you that will not be happening.”


Hermione shook her head to the empty room. “Not at all. In fact,” she bit her lip. “I’d like to pay you the balance in full, Riddle. Would that be something you’d be interested in?”


“Fifty thousand pounds is an awful lot of money, Miss Granger. Are you sure you’d want to waste that on your boss? Surely that would be better spent to fund your education. How are your night classes?”


“How do you,”


“We’ve only spoken once, but I’ve seen you at the counter half a dozen times studying for exams with your tits out. A pretty picture, indeed.”


“I want to pay off his loan.”


He sighed. “It doesn’t particularly matter to me who pays me my money, Miss Granger. Though I have to ask, does he know you’ve called me?”


“No,” she murmured. “I stole your number from his phone last night, and I’d rather you didn’t tell him at all. I’ll deal with it when the time comes. Could you meet me in the next half hour? I have a class, but I can meet you before. I’ve already withdrawn the money.”


Tom Riddle’s agreement was too easy to earn, and for that she was grateful. It was Malfoy’s defensive reaction she worried about.


Two weeks passed without Draco learning that he was no longer indebted to Riddle, and in those three weeks, he didn’t touch her once. Beyond asking her for a pen, he didn’t steal any moments like she expected him to. Fuck, like she wanted him to.


Hermione had nagged him - his word choice - until he caved, and let her begin to sort through the club’s records, and file them electronically. The massive influx of transactions as they neared Christmas didn’t help as she spent her time scanning receipts into his officer computers until the sun rose. Draco sat across from her, with him on the opposite side of his desk this time, while Hermione crossed her legs in his leather chair, and typed furiously.


“Should have started on this years ago,” she grumbled to herself, picking up the cup of tea he’d just brought her. “What the fuck was your father thinking by storing everything in paper? Draco, this is absurd.”


He snorted, propping his feet up on the edge of the desk. “He hates technology, Granger, utterly loathes it. I never saw the need for it - why are you looking at the screen like that?”


She shook her head slowly, setting her ceramic cup down so quickly it sloshed onto his Italian shoes. Hermione pressed the button again to run the numbers, but it came back with the same exact result, and the staggering number encases in parentheses made her stomach do a summersault. “Draco, at what point did you take that loan from Riddle?”


“What do you mean?”


“In what month did you not have any other option? You mentioned how you were funding the club out of pocket, but,” Hermione looked to him, her eyebrows drawn together in worry.


“It must have been around October last year that I took the loan, and I had been struggling since mid July.” Draco told her. “Why?”


Hermione chewed her bottom lip anxiously, clicking the button one last time. Maybe it was a mistake. Surely this couldn’t have - “Someone is stealing money from the Shrieking Shack.” She told him quietly. “It’s been happening systematically since the beginning of June.”


“What?” He yelled, standing from his chair, and coming to grip the back of hers while he leaned forward. His tie tangled down as he did so, and he glared at the screen. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m looking at; care to explain?”


She nodded, dragging her finger along the computer screen while scrolling over. “It looks as if they started small, taking different amounts, small amounts at different times, and into October, you can see the trend when it starts to cripple your profit. I just don’t understand how you didn’t see this, even without electronic logging.”


“Whoever it is has been falsifying deposits,” Draco growled, his hand settling over hers as he guided the mouse. “This is fucking shitty.”


Hermione sighed, nodding once more. “I’m sure I can figure out who it was. It’s as simple as looking at the nights it happened, and cross referencing with who worked those nights. Draco?” She peered up at him, only to find him staring down at her, his jaw clenching tightly. “It will be okay.”


“I need a drink,” he muttered, and Hermione found herself scrambling out of her seat to follow him down the corridor and out to the bar. “Here,” he told her, passing her a bottle of wine and a corkscrew. He grabbed a bottle of scotch from under the counter and didn’t bother with a glass.


She pulled the cork from her bottle in silence, crossing one leg over the other. “You won’t be able to drive home,”


He shook his head. “Have you looked outside? It’s a goddamn blizzard out there. I doubt we will be leaving here for hours, so we might as well enjoy ourselves.”


It was as good a moment as any to come clean that she’d met the infamous Tom Riddle in a quiet coffee shop around the corner from her house, and handed him an actual briefcase full of money. Sipping her wine though, Hermione didn’t bother. He was already angry enough as it was, and she didn’t care to argue about how she had gotten involved. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” Hermione asked, grasping the neck of her bottle.


Malfoy’s head snapped up, and she couldn’t hold back the shiver as his eyes settled on her. “Seems like a dangerous question to ask me, Hermione. I think you know fully well what I want. Don’t you?”


She looked at him, her tongue sliding against her bottom lip. Like hell he was going to rattle her as he rolled up his crisp sleeves and leaned against the bad. Malfoy’s smirks were one thing, but she was ultimately used to them. When he smiled though, like the feisty grin that spread over her face - Hermione was glad she was sitting down, glad he couldn’t see the way she pressed her fingers against herself through her yoga pants, aching for relief.


Hermione played off her nerves, and pretended she didn’t want to crawl across this counter, and lead him to her by his loose tie. Arching an eyebrow, she murmured from behind her bottle of wine. “I’m not sure, but I’d imagine what you want right now is to know who’s been robbing you blind so you could take of them yourself.”


He snorted. “What a ruthless thing to say. And you were worried about Tom Riddle beating me bloody?”


She didn’t miss a beat. “No,” she exhaled. “I was worried he would murder you, and I would have to put assert myself in the criminal underground to get revenge.” Hermione said dryly, smirking at his bewildered expression.


“You? Worm your way into the criminal activities of London? Not bloody likely.”


“What?” Hermione grumbled. “Like it’s hard?” There was no holding back her smile when he laughed. “Was there something you wanted?” It was a barely there whisper, “Draco,”


He took a long drink, and she knew it must have been burning a path down his throat. A droplet slid over his chin, and down his neck. “Three weeks, Granger, and you haven’t said a word about it.”


Well, it didn’t take a genius to know what he was referencing. She cleared her throat. “To be honest, I’m still shocked that it happened. It hardly felt real when you were so cold to me the next time you saw me. What would you have rather I done? I’m not going to come crawling to you, Malfoy.”


“I suppose it was too much to hope that you’d come to your senses.” He muttered, pouring another glass. “As delightful as the image of your crawling to me is,” her breath caught. “I can make myself clear, Hermione.”


She immediately shook her head. “That’s a terrible idea, really. I’m your employee, and your friend, and -”


“And the woman I’ve hopelessly fallen for, and you don’t spare me a second glance.” Draco sighed. “Hermione, it’s not my intention to make trap you into any sort of relationship with me by guilt, but that’s what I want.”


Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest. “Draco..,” at his crestfallen expression, she hurried to add “I wish the circumstances were different. There’s no point in denying how our relationship had changed. However, I think you only want me because I do tell you no. If I were yours, you would see that this lust filled infatuation would pass.”


Draco dropped - she was certain he’d done it on purpose - his glass, and it splintered against the floor. “You’re such an idiot.”


She bristled, sipping her wine. “We shouldn’t argue; we’re going to be trapped her for hours yet to come, and I’d rather not fight with you about this.”


“You asked me what I wanted.”


“I remember. I was there,” a wry smile caused her lips to quirk up. “What do you want, Malfoy. And so help me God, if you say you want me,”


“I want you on that stage while I sit in front of you.” Draco told her, snatching another glass from under the bar. “Truth be told, I’m sick of watching men discuss exactly what position they would put you in to stretch your tight holes. Did you know one man tonight said he wanted you under him?”


Her eyes were wide. “No,” she replied meekly.


Draco nodded, leaning on his forearms that rested on the counter. “It took a tremendous amount of self control to not bash his head in, or to tell him that you don’t like missionary. No, you enjoy the passion, the bruises left on you the next morning -”


“Draco,” she whispered, heat rushing between her legs. “Have a seat then.”


He moved without being told twice, slightly swaying from the liquor. Hermione turned the music on, and then she turned the dial to the left. With the soft music playing overhead, she kicked her trainers off, and pushed her pants down from where they were bunched around her waist before tugging her shirt over her head.


Her heart beating wildly in her chest, she told herself that she did this every night she worked, but as she wrapped her fingers around the slick, metal pole, Hermione knew that wasn’t completely true. Of course she knew that Draco watched her, eyeing her up and down as she worked, but now it was just him. And there was absolutely nothing stopping her from straddling his waist, and letting him tug on the flimsy string of her top.


The black bra barely covered anything, and spinning around the pole, and then flipping herself upside down, she undid the knot herself. “Look at me, Hermione.” His voice was low, and he was smirking behind his glass.


Her lips parted as she took him in as he watched her dance for him. WIth each sway of her lips, Hermione believed more and more that he was going to pull her right of the stage, bend her over the edge, and fuck her. Hermione padded to the edge of the stage, crouching down, and slipping off of it. His eyes widened as he rested his arms on the back of the chairs on either side of him. Tilting her head to the side with a small grin, Hermione pushed her knickers down her legs, and straddled his waist.


“Draco,” she murmured, running her fingers through her hair, and grinding her hips against his.


His hands came to grip her waist tightly, pressing her against the obvious bulge in his trousers. “Give me one night, Granger.” His tongue slid against her hardened nipple, and a plea nearly fell from her lips. His hand slid between them, one finger sliding against her slick folds.


“It could never be one night,” she muttered, sliding her arms around his neck as his fingers moved against her clit. “I think it’s a massive mistake, but,”


Draco turned his head, capturing her lips with his own, and taking het weak whimpers for himself. “It’s not a bloody mistake,” he growled, lifting her by wrapping one arm around her waist tightly. As two fingers slid inside of her, Hermione clung to him, pressing her lips to the skin of his neck, and biting where his shoulder met his neck. “So fucking rough,”


Her resolve was crumbling, and her reasons, so maybe they were weak, were slipping farther and farther from her her with each thrust of his fingers. ‘One night,” she gasped. Even though she was right. One night would turn into more, but with them being so close, she just didn’t fucking care.


And then he pulled away from her, smirking. “No.”


“No?” Hermione whined softly.


His fingers rested against her lips, and her tongue darted out, taking them into her mouth. “You might have caved, but this wasn’t what you wanted.” He shrugged.


Her mouth fell open. “You’re choosing now to be noble about it?”  


Draco’s fingers trailed down her sides, his fingertips brushing against the sides of her breasts. “I’m deciding that I’m not going to fuck you.” Taking her by surprise, he gripped her hair tightly in his finger, leaning forward, and sliding his tongue against her nipple.


Hermione whimpered, tugging on his hair, and arching her back to press herself closer to him. “Oh, fuck,” she moaned, parting her legs and lifting herself up as he thrust two fingers inside of her. “Oh, my God.” She had no objections to admitting what she liked, sexual, or not, but Draco knew every single thing she liked.


And he bloody well knew that fingering her so roughly was going to have her trembling in his lap in minutes. “Do you want me to fuck you, Hermione?” He rasped, his thumb pressing against her clit as his fingers curled inside of her, dragging a broken moan from her. “Do you want me to put your legs over my shoulders, and hold you up while I fuck your tight cunt?”


“Yes.” She was begging, but so fucking what. “Don’t you want to do just that? You’re torturing both of us -”


He grinned, biting down on her hardened nipple softly. “Make no mistake, I will fuck you, and it may not be tonight, but you’re going to be the one to come to me, little girl.”


Hermione’s eyes fluttered shut as he picked her up, placing her in the chair. As she opened one eye to peer down at him, she found him kneeling in front of her, gripping her ankles in each hand, and draping her legs over either side of the chair. “But I want you now, Daddy.”


There was something in the way his eyes darkened that made her wary to test him when she called him that. “You want me because you’re horny,” she opened her mouth to object, but he raised his hand. “I’m not angry about that, but I’ll fill you with my cock when you’ve made a decision while clear headed, not while you’re begging for me like a dirty slut.”


A whimper slipped between her teeth. “Then what’s the point of this? If I can’t have you, then -”


“No, you can’t have me, but I want to do whatever I want to you .” The sight of him on his knees in front of her, asking if he could have his way with her, made her delirious. Hermione knew that even when he was the dominant one, that really it was her who held the power over him. He wouldn’t do a fucking thing if she didn’t agree.


“You’d have to be more clear on what you want to do to me.” She whispered, her hand sliding down her chest, and her fingers slipping through her folds. “What do you want to do to me, Daddy?”


“I want to make sure you’re a fucking wreck by the time I’m done with you.” He murmured, kissing up the skin of her calf. “I want to taste you while you come, while you’re writhing against my tongue, but first I’ll get you there, and then I’ll stop until you’re begging for me to let you have what you want.”


Hermione nodded, her fingers digging into the arm rests.


He teased her, the tip of his tongue sliding against her clit, and he slowly, God, so fucking slowly, slid two fingers inside of her dripping cunt. Moan after moan fell away from her, and she attempted to move closer to him, and she was already on the edge of begging.


And every other fucking word was Daddy , and she was going to sob if he kept moving his tongue against her so slowly. “Oh, fuck, please.” She muttered, her head falling back. “Let me come. Daddy, fucking please.”


She didn’t have to look at him to know that he was smirking when he said it. “You have ten seconds.” His voice was low, and at first she didn’t understand, but then -


He was rough with her, fingering her harder while her legs trembled, and his tongue rolling against her clit. Hermione screamed, her nails cutting through the fabric covering the arm rests, and she was teetering on the edge of her orgasm when he pulled away from her. His fingers returned to their slow rhythm. “I told you that you only had ten seconds.”


She gasped, taking one look at him, and moving too quickly for him to stop her. Hermione slid off of the seat, lunging towards him, and tackling him on the floor of the club. “Fucking bastard,” she muttered before kissing him roughly. “I want you so badly, to fuck me right here so it’s all I think of when I’m on that stage dancing.”


He cupped her neck, his tongue tracing the seam of her bottom lip as he rolled her onto her back, and he braced his palm flat against the hard floor. “I don’t think you’ll be able to think of anything else but this moment.” He murmured. “Even if you do give men lap dances, which I’m fucking sure you only do to infuriate me, you won’t be able to think of anything but the time you did it for me.”


Hermione moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist as he bit down in the most sensitive spot of her neck, and it was sure to leave a mark. “Make sure that leaves a mark.” She pleaded. “I want to see it there tomorrow - fuck!” She hissed when he grabbed her hair, and pulled her head back to expose her neck fully. “Maybe to make it fair - I mean, if I have to think of this everytime I work, you should have to do the same.”


“You think I won’t be?” He chuckled, pinching her nipple.


“I think you should make me come in your office so I know you will be.” She replied, reaching down to cup his erection through his trousers. “Could sit me on your desk while you eat my cunt. Or,” he cut her off by kissing her, still rolling her nipple between his fingers.


“Or what?” He asked breathlessly when he pulled away from her, already standing to his feet, and offering her his hand.


“Could I suck your cock, Daddy?” Her grin was anything but innocent, and his eyes narrowed.


Draco picked her up, wrapping her legs around him once more, and his fingers gripping her arse. “I won’t be gentle. I’ll fuck your throat for how many times you’ve teased me.”


She batted her eyelashes. “Please?”


“Dirty fucking little girl,” he growled.


He carried her towards the back office, stopping to slam her against the wall. The frames on the wall fell, shattering, and he just kissed her, taking his time, and sneaking his hand between them to finger her until she was nearly sobbing for relief. He told her that he would get there, eventually. Once inside his office, after punching in the code angrily, which was still her bloody birthday, he set Hermione on her feet.


She watched as he slid everything off of his desk, muttering that he’d have Goyle pick it up later that day. Hermione would have sat on his desk herself, but he stopped her. “No,” he told her, unbuttoning his trousers. “I want you to lay on your back, Hermione, with your head hanging over the side.”


Her mouth was dry as she nodded, sitting on the edge and turning to where he wanted her. “Like this?” She said weakly. He nodded, his hands sliding over her breasts.


“You could say no,”


“Fuck that.” She snapped, reaching for the edge of his boxers, tugging them down, and taking his thick cock into her hand. “I want to feel this in my throat , Daddy.”


He moved towards her, and as her lips parted, let her take his cock at her own speed first. Hermione rolled her tongue against his length, and when the tip hit the back of her throat, he groaned. He gripped the edge of his desk, his hips moving forward. Hermione’s hand fell away as he held her head up at the base of her neck.


“I want you to play with yourself.” He growled, beginning to fuck her mouth. “I want to watch you strain to finger your dripping cunt as well as I do, and I want you to come over your fucking fingers while you suck my cock.”


Her moan was muffled as she brought her legs up, placing her feet flat against the surface of his desk, and she rubbed her clit. Her folds were slick beneath her fingers, and her eyes closed as she sucked his cock, her tongue moving against it, and her cheeks hollowing out when she sucked the tip.


His hands moved over her breasts, and then one of them moved to her throat, and he hesitated. Positioned as she was, it was hard to nod, but Hermione managed a barely there nod. She gasped around him as his fingers tightened on her throat, choking her.


Hermione’s fingers moved faster, desperately, against her clit. “Will you come for me? I don’t think you could wait long.” He said above her, his grip loosening enough for her breath for ten seconds before they were against her throat once more. “I can’t.” He admitted to her, and she wanted to ask for him to be rougher.


She hadn’t particuarly liked rough, dominant sex until she’d fucked him university, and until she’d fucked him again with her best friend. But the feeling of him controlling her breathing made her delirious. “I’m going to come in your mouth, Hermione.” He told her quietly, but his voice was unwavering. “But you won’t complain, because you want to be my good little girl. You would love to be my filthy fucking cumslut. Let me see you come for me, little girl.”


It was his words, that had her coming right then, with her legs trembling, and her mouth opened wider in a quiet scream as he fucked her throat. As Draco came in her mouth, and as she continued to rub her clit, still rocking from the pleasure, his fingers tightened around her throat rougher than they had been.


And she wasn’t sure if she’d just had two orgasms, or if it was just the best one of her life, but she wasn’t done. Hermione sat on her knees, still on top of his desk, after he’d pulled away. Opening her mouth, she showed him a glimpse of his come on her tongue before swallowing. “I still don’t regret it.”


“When I fuck you, I’m going to fuck you until you’re begging for me to stop.” He growled.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six


Hermione had tried, and failed to keep her personal life separate from her job at the Shrieking Shack. She didn’t care quite as much anymore, not when Draco had walked her to her car at eight a.m. when the ice finally allowed for her to drive home, and when he crushed her body to his, and kissed her so deeply she just wanted to take him home with her.


He was, in a word, frustrating. She was stubborn, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the two because three days passed before she was willing to bring it up. He wanted her to come to him the next time, and no, she didn’t think it was because he needed to have that control over her, and it gutted her to hea Daphne call her out.


Hermione sat in her car outside of the club, with Daph beside her in her passenger seat, a cigarette poised between her fingers. “Just how long are you going to make him wait, Hermione? If you tell me this is about your fucking morals again, I swear -”


Hermione snorted, pushing her seat back, and crossing her legs as she sat against her leather seat. The heat was turned to the highest setting, and a thin layer of frost coated the parking lot, and her windows. “I think my morals went out the window the moment I let him nearly fuck me on the floor of the club.” Her friend gasped, leaning towards her.


“You did? Why the fuck am I just now hearing about it?” She demanded, turning her head as she pressed the button to let the window down, and blow smoke into the cold night air.


Hermione pulled her jumper closer around her body when the chilly draft slid over her skin. “Could you close the window now?”She muttered. “Two nights ago, when I stayed late to help him switch to electronic logging, there thing led to another, and I haven’t been completely honest with you, I suppose.”


Daphne was wide eyed as she put her cigarette out in the ashtray, leaning across the console with her elbows propped against it. “What is that supposed to mean?”


She smiled sheepishly. “We had phone sex three weeks ago, and then I ignored him.” She flinched when Daphne swatted at her, the back of her head cracking against where her seatbelt met the interior of her car. “And then it just came to a head, and we were arguing, and I stripped for him.”


“Just him,” she clarified, grinning ear to ear.


Rolling her eyes, Hermione nodded. “Obviously. It’s not as if there was anyone else in the club at three in the morning. The snow and ice was awful that night. We couldn’t drive home.”


“Tell me everything, Granger. I want to know all of the dirty details.” Daphne gushed.


A playful grin twisted Hermione’s lips. “He put me in the chair that’s directly in front of the center stage, and went down on me.” She muttered, hoping her friend wouldn’t hear because -


Daphne squealed, and Hermione’s hands flew up to cover her ears. “Oh my god .” She shrieked, bouncing in her seat. Giggling herself, Hermione was certain that her best friend was more excited for Draco to have made a move toward her than she was. “So the two of you are together now? Keep going, tell me everything.”


Hermione glanced at the time on her dash, and they still had twenty minutes before having to be inside. She shouldn’t have insisted they leave so early on the off chance that the roads had iced over again. “I told him I wanted to be in his office so he would always be thinking of me.” Hermione said quietly. “And then he shoved everything off his desk, had me lay on my back, and then fucked my throat.”


Her friend, who had been carding her fingers through her blonde curls, froze in place. “I’m sorry, what? Can you explain the logistics behind that? Because I sure as fuck hope the mental image I have in my head is not what happened.”


“Like the desk is here,” she held her palm out flat, while making a crude representation that was her body - she used her index finger to describe where her body was. “and I’m lying here on my back, right? With my head hanging over the edge, and yeah.”


“He’s standing?” Daphne asked, and she shrieked at Hermione’s nod. “It should be illegal to be so fucking hot. That man just oozes sex appeal. You didn’t answer my question when I asked if it was official now.”


Hermione winced. “I - well - no?”


“No?” Daphne questioned, her eyes narrowing. “Hermione Jean, I will fucking wreck you if you tell me it’s because he’s your boss.”


Hermione muttered under her breath, “Not exactly. He wants me to come to him, and I don’t want to.” She clasped her hands in her lap, lacing her fingers and pulling them apart uneasily. “Daphne, you don’t understand.”


The blonde sucked in a deep breath, holding up her hand. “I get that it’s your pride, but is your pride worth losing him when he’s head over heels for you?”


Hermione’s mouth dried. “I hadn’t really thought of it like,”


“Hermione, love, I love you.” Daphne brushed her hair over her shoulder. “So that’s why I’d rather tell you something that hurts you now than watching you do something that hurts you later. You haven’t thought about this at all . Why do you think he wants to you come to him?”


“He wants me to admit it, of course. I’ve been so stubborn and -”


“Ding dong, you are wrong.” She chimed. “He wants you to come to him because he’s fucking sick of having his heart crushed every time you turn him down. He has wanted you since university, and you are treating this as if it’s a simple game when it’s hurting him. Now tell me -”


Hermione snatched her keys from the ignition, mumbling for Daphne to lock her doors whenever she came inside. She twisted away from her friend, hurrying out of the car, and rushing across the parking lot, Her heart ached, a hollow feeling that she knew was due to the guilt that she hadn’t thought beyond her own stubbornness at all.


Theo told hello, or she was pretty sure he did, but she ignored him and Goyle as she wrenched the door open. The club was in full swing, and she noticed Angelina hovering around the bar, talking to a man she hadn’t seen before. Taking a quick once over, she saw that Draco wasn’t on the floor at all.


Hermione weaved through the small crowd by the bar, making her way down the short hallway to his office. Smirking when the security code was still her birthday, and telling herself she was a fucking idiot, Hermione stepped inside. He glanced up at her as she shut the door behind her, her back pressed against the cold metal, with her fingers slipping from the handle.


“What is it?” His palm was flat against his tie as he stood, looking at her curiously while he stepped around his desk. “You’re absurdly early; is something wrong?”


She shook her head, the realization that she hadn’t really thought this far ahead. Hermione hadn’t considered what she would say, or what she would - “I’ve been a real bitch to you.” She blurted, tossing her purse into the seat across from his desk, though it tipped over and its contents spilled out. “And I’m sorry.”


There was a flicker of something in his eyes, and Hermione took two steps toward him. Sliding her palms against his broad chest, her fingers fumbling with his silk tie that she’d like nothing more than to see tied around her wrists, she pressed her lips to his.


His hands gripped the tops of her arms, steering her towards the wall, where he pushed her up against it, and kissed her roughly. His teeth nipping at her bottom lip, and lifting her into his arms while she wrapped her legs around his waist. Gasping quietly, Hermione knotted her fingers in his hair, digging her heels into his back, pressing him closer to her. “Draco,” she murmured, her nails scraping against his scalp.


“You are so goddamn stubborn.” He growled, his hips pressing against hers, and she whimpered at the feeling of his erection grinding against her.


“I only have fifteen minutes,” she laughed when his fingers pressed against her clit through her joggers. “Oh, fuck.” She moaned, and his hand clamped over her mouth.


“Do you want to everyone in the club to know what you’re doing?” He smirked, and again, he carried her to his desk, and knocked papers from it.


“Goyle is going to hate you,” she bit out as he set her a top it.


He chuckled, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her pants, tugging them down. “Like he doesn’t already?”


Hermione braced her hands against the wood of his desk, leaning backward while he cupped her through her knickers. “I’m going to make you come over my fingers.” He rasped, his lips trailing against the shell of her ear. “Right here before you go change.”


Hermione nodded, breathless.


“And while you dance, if anyone catches a glimpse of your dripping cunt, they’ll know you belong to someone.” His fingers sunk into her, and he covered her mouth once more when she nearly whined. “Who do you belong to, Hermione?” His words were accompanied by the sensation of his fingers curling inside her.


“You.” She gasped, but she knew it wasn’t the answer he was looking for when his ministrations stopped. “Daddy,” she clutched his shoulders, wanting to drag his jacket from his shoulders. “I belong to Daddy.”


He smirked, his thumb moving against her clit while his fingers thrust into her. “Sweet girl,” he said quietly, and she was fucked. So fucked. She wasn’t sure how she could stand to walk out of this room. His fingers moved quickly, and he dropped his head to her neck, and even though it was going to be next to impossible to cover up the new marks he left on her pale flesh, she didn’t care.


No, she gripped the strands of his hair between her fingers, pulling him closer to her while she whimpered quietly. The booming music outside the door was loud enough to mask her soft sounds, the small moans, and whimpers that he dragged from her. “I’m going to come.” Hermione said weakly.


And then his fingers were moving faster, her cunt clenching around them while she writhed on his desk. “Come for me, little girl.” He growled, kissing her hard, silencing her shriek - but it was only muffled. Draco pulled away from her, smirking while she babbled incoherently as she rode out her orgasm, panting.


“Daddy, Daddy,” she whimpered, dragging him back to her by his tie, wrapping it around her fist. “I want to stay here.” She admitted.


In true Draco fashion, he melted from being utterly dominant over her, and kissed her temple softly. “You say that, but you know you’re not quite ready to face this being public knowledge.”


Hermione looked up at him, knowing she was probably already late in getting to the dressing room to be ready for her shift. Before speaking, she took him by the wrist, lifting his hand to her mouth to slide her tongue against the pads of his fingers, knowing just how it would affect him for the rest of the night. “Do you have plans after work?” She asked quietly.


He shook his head. “Have something in mind?” Draco smiled.


“Maybe an early breakfast at that restaurant by your flat?” Hermione grinned. “If you’re not too busy that is.”


“If I didn’t know better, I would think you’re asking me on a date, Hermione.”


She snorted. “Would you just say yes?”


He nuzzled her neck. “Happily. I’ll pick you up from your flat after you leave.”


She grabbed a pair of tight jeans from her closet, and the first top she could grab that wasn’t a ratty old jogger. Which was still a jogger nonetheless, but it was for her university. With H O G W A R T S stretched across her breasts, she debated changing into a dress, but he had asked her to dress casually. And it was just a twenty four hour diner they were going to, not an upscale restaurant.


And even though this was Draco,  and she had already mentally reminded herself for the upteenth time that she did not want to fuck this up, she felt comfortable enough to wear the clothes she preferred to lounge in. Daphne wasn’t home again, and even though Hermione knew for a fact that she was with Theo, probably at his flat for fuck’s sake, she also knew neither of them had made a move. A bit hypocritical if you asked her but nevermind that.


Hermione grabbed her lip balm from the bowl near the front door, along with her keys, and handbag. Combing her fingers through her curls once more the best she could, which didn’t do much, she still jumped when a knock at the door came. Adjusting the strap of her purse over her shoulder, Hermione looked through the peephole to see Draco before letting the door swing open.


“Hi,” she beamed, drinking the sight of him in.


He wore dark jeans, and dark blue button up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. His hair was touseled, not slicked back, and that was something he’d done started doing since she told him while drunk she liked his hair more that way. “Hey.” He murmured, cupping the side of her cheek, and kissing her softly. “You taste like cherries.” He laughed.


Hermione grinned, pulling her lip balm from her pocket, and putting it in front of his face. “I came prepared.”


“You’re ridiculous,” he chuckled, taking her hand, and sliding his fingers through her own while he led her down the stairs. He’d left his car running in the closest parking spot with the lights on, and the heat going.


Hermione smiled to herself when he led her around the car, and opened the door for her. It was the first time she considered that he might be just as nervous as her in all of this. She pulled the seatbelt across her chest, and there was a soft click as it slid into the buckle. Setting her purse in the floorboard beside her feet, Hermione set her phone in the cup holder.


And it made her far too happy when he reached across the center console to take her hand again, driving with one hand. Though she and Daphne had gossiped near constantly after the one night they had spent together with Draco, and of how bloody attractive he was, it still surprised her. It was hardly fair for one man to look so hot while he was going the most mundane tasks - like driving for instance.


Draco drove through the streets of London, the light from the overhead street lamps bleeding into his car with one hand holding her, and the other holding the wheel. Like she had already noticed, his sleeves were rolled up, exposing muscular forearms that felt better when they were locked around her waist while he slammed into her.


It wasn’t a bad train of thought, but she didn’t need to be squirming in her seat before he took her to a wholesome, family owned restaurant.


Hermione unbuckled her seatbelt, moving closer to him while she released his hand, shifting to lean across the console. “Granger, what are you doing?”


“Keep driving,” she muttered, her hand sliding over his collarbone before she kissed down his neck, nipping at the sensitive spot she’d found years earlier when he fucked her in a stranger’s bed at a university party. Draco slid his free arm around her waist, holding her in place tightly. “I can’t seem to keep my hands off of you.” She admitted, and there was a very clear image in her head of what would happen if he pulled over on a dark street and she climbed into his lap.


He laughed, his left hand unclenching from the wheel, and he turned into the parking lot of the restaurant. “I’ll have you know it was torture not being able to touch you.” He murmured, tipping her chin up and pressing his lips to her briefly.


Hermione was content to stay right there, preferably ending up in his laps with his hands roaming over her body, but her stomach growled. His laugh was loud, his head tipping back as she blushed. “Let’s return to that thought.” Hermione told him, rolling her eyes, grabbing her purse from the floorboard and climbing out of the car.


Draco wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they walked across the parking lot, and she moved for the door just to test if he would move faster to grab it for her. He did, nearly slipping and busting his arse on a patch of ice he couldn’t see. She giggled, covering her mouth in an attempt to hide her sniggering. “I’m sorry, it’s just you don’t have to rush for the door, and then you almost fell.”


He rolled his eyes, holding the door open for her, and for the elderly couple that trailed in after them. Hermione waited just inside the door with a smile plastered over her face while she grabbed the second door for the couple.


Waiting beside Draco at the till, the hostess came to seat them, and they sat in a booth in the back corner of the restaurant. She was a bit taken when he slid into the seat next to her, rather than the seat across from her. His hand was warm against her thigh, squeezing it before moving his hand up higher. She squeaked.


“What can I get the two of you to drink tonight?” Their waitress asked without looking, flipping her notepad open.


“I’d like coffee, please.” Hermione told her, and as her pen scratched across the paper, she lifted her hand to Draco’s thigh, stroking his dick through his jeans.


“And for you, sir?” She asked without looking up. She was either to most oblivious woman Hermione had ever met, or she did not give a single, solitary fuck that these two adults were acting like randy teenagers.


“Earl Grey,” it wasn’t fair how unaffected he sounded in his drawl, and all while his hand parted her legs slightly beneath the table, and his fingers pressed against her clit. “Two can play at that game.” He told her after their waitress left their table, and she glared at him.


“You started it.” Hermione accused, moving her hand to merely lay against his thigh while she leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m exhausted.” She yawned.


Draco stroked the inside of her left absently, kneading the skin there softly. “You look a bit tired.” He agreed. “University?” He guessed.


She yawned again, nodding. “I have two finals next week that I’m as prepared as possible for, but I’ll worry about them until I get my marks back.”


“I’m sure you’ll do brilliantly.” He murmured, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.


Though he couldn’t see her grin, Hermione’s smile was ear to ear. “I’m mostly excited to have the two weeks off, not that I attend many classes, but I’ll have two real days off from the club.” She sighed. All she truly planned to do was to take several hot bubble baths, drink far too much wine, and not leave her flat if she could help it. Meanwhile shopping online.


Though with the money she had paid back to Riddle, her bank account was severely low. And she froze, nearly biting her tongue, and the fact that Draco still had no idea she had met with Riddle. Before he could noticed how her back had stiffened, the waitress returned with their drinks, and Hermione resigned that she would tell him.


Just not tonight.


Hermione pushed her cup of coffee out in front of her, waiting for it to cool before to took a drink, and scalded her tongue. She rambled off her order with a smile, and it was the same thing she always had - a breakfast plate with eggs, and bacon. It was plain, and Daphne was always on her for never trying anything new.


“Has Theo mentioned anything to you about Daphne?” Hermione asked him, watching carefully when he nearly choked on his tea. “So, that’s a yes.” She deadpanned.


“He tells me they’re content with being friends -”


Hermione rolled her eyes, having spent more than one night listening to Daph tell her how they would be so good together, and explaining in explicit detail why that was. “That’s,”


“-which is bullshit, I know?” He finished with a wry smile. “Did Daphne put you up to something?”


She scoffed. “Hardly; I just think she is a hypocrite for giving me so much hell over not making any sort of move towards you when she’s doing exactly the same thing.”


“It’s a bit different between me and Theo, Hermione. I made it clear I wanted you, and you shot me down. Theo has been too fucking awkward to make anything clear.”


“What would you think if I asked you to help me make it happen then?”


“Make one choice, and decide you’re the perfect matchmaker?” He arched an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”


She averted her eyes, looking around to see if anyone was close by. “I have a silly idea, but you’re sure to hate it.”


He snorted, nearly inhaling his tea through his nose as the cup clattered against the saucer. “With a delivery like that, you’re probably right. Go on through. I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”


“The only reason Daphne would stop being so shy about this - which she is not shy, but Theo is, I don’t know -is if she were jealous.”


“Your idea is to be the one that causes that jealousy?” He asked, clenching his jaw, but for only a moment. “I’m following. Have you thought this out anymore?”


She shrugged. “I wanted to discuss it with you. It’s not something I would ever do if it made you uncomfortable, but I had the thought that if we were all together - say we were drinking, I could snog Theo. Believe me, it doesn’t take much for her to become green with envy.”


He swallowed. “Sure, love.” Draco replied.


Hermione stirred her coffee with the small straw the waitress had left on the table for her. “Maybe next week after my exams then?” She asked him, peering up at him. “Would you mind if we were at your flat?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.


“Not at all, but if you’re too pissed to drive, you may just have to stay the night.” He smirked, laying his arm across the back of the booth.


“And if I wanted to stay the night regardless? What about then?” Hermione asked coyly, sipping her coffee.


They must have sat in the booth for two hours, talking and laughing together long after they had eaten, and Draco had paid for the check.


And Hermione had definitely climbed into his lap as he sat in the driver’s seat when he parked in the parking lot of her apartment complex.

Chapter Text



Chapter Seven

The following week she stayed late at the club nearly every night to do upkeep on the electronic logging. Changing everything over was an overhaul, and she wasn't getting much work done when Draco was pinning her to every surface in the club.

By Thursday she'd sucked his cock while he sat in his office chair, downing a glass of scotch - and she was certain he'd drank an entire bottle as well. When she was logging inventory from behind the bar, the painstaking task of pulling each bottle out to get a count of what their true inventory was - excluding the bottles of wine she'd drank while he drank scotch, but it was worth mentioning that Hermione tried to pay for it, and in the end Draco wrote it off. While she was bent down doing that, Draco had grabbed her by the hips, bent her over the bar, and brought her off with his fingers.

While on the stage - she was checking for damages, because if they were really checking everything inside of the club, she might as well see if a work order was needed for upkeep - he'd stripped her, laying her across the stage while he made her come twice, and she had told him that the position sixty nine sounded like a marvelous idea.

Yet he hadn't fucked her. Hermione wasn't quite thinking he wanted it to be a special occasion, but she was certain he didn't want to fuck her inside the club. At least not the first time he had her as hers. Nevermind that, she was sure he was going to be buried inside of her by the end of the night when she and Daphne visited his flat. Or she hoped he would be, because it had been weeks since she'd had sex, and while obviously there were others she could call, she wasn't interested.

So if she wasn't in the same room with Draco Malfoy and a bed by the end of the week, she would make it happen.

Draco had always watched her while she danced. She'd have been a fool to not notice that much, but somehow it was different now. A bit more alluring, probably because it was a taboo thing, taking your boss's cock down your throat, and giving him private shows. Thankfully with Daphne giving her the push she needed, Hermione could not give less of a fuck.

And yeah, she realized she wouldn't be able to go on forever working for him. It would prove to be too much for one of them eventually, and she would probably end her job here long before that. At this point she did have enough saved to return to university full time, and with how much she'd done before losing her scholarship, she was confident she could wrap her schooling up within a year. Hermione suspected it would become too much for him first.

While watching her right now was thrilling with the way she 'accidentally' flipped her skirt up to flash him, and the filthy pictures she texted him when she locked the dressing room door behind her. But men did try to grab at her, to grope her tits when she passed the bar, and while she was capable of throwing a drink over someone, Draco would fuck them up.

And that would be bad for business.

The night before her exams, she'd grabbed a bottle of wine - this one paid for, she'd gone to a shop before work - and ran a bath. Daphne was out with Theo; the two of them had gone to see a movie, and Hermione had given her hell before she left.

All she wanted to do was relax in their oversized bathtub, drink wine, and possibly call Draco. Having no idea what he was up to outside of work, she hadn't made up her mind quite yet. But then her phone rang, and his name popped up over the screen. "Hello?" She answered, her voice echoing in the bathroom. Hermione looked at herself in the mirror as she answered, dressed in a silk robe tied loosely around her body, and she held a stemless wine glass in her hand. "Draco?"

There was a sound of a car beeping, and then the door shutting. "Hey, are you busy?" He asked her, and she looked longingly back at the tub, which was nearly filled with hot water.

"Depends on your idea of busy. I'm too busy to go anywhere with you, but I'm not doing anything." She was lifting the glass to her lips, and taking a sip when the doorbell rang. "Fuck, hang on. Someone is at the door."

"Oh? Were you expecting someone?"

"No," she grumbled, making sure the silk belt was tied tightly enough so her tits wouldn't pop out. "Daphne probably forgot her bloody purse, and she always forgets her keys too." Hermione didn't bother to check the ornate dish on the table to see that Daphne's keys were in fact gone. Throwing the door open, her eyes widened. "Did you buy me a flower shop?" She snorted, opening the door wider for him to step inside.

Draco couldn't see over the large bouquet, and Hermione took the vase from his hands, setting it on the table. "What do owe the surprise visit for? Not that I'm complaining, they're gorgeous." Hermione stroked one of the petals before locking the door.

He looked her over once, and then twice. "I was passing a shop, and saw them. So I turned around, but if I'm interrupting something.." He trailed off.

"Oh, no. I was running a bath." She laughed. "Do you have anywhere else to be?" Hermione asked then, and when he shook his head, she smiled widely. "Would you like to join me then? It's a rather large tub." Squealing when he picked her up, Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist while resting her arms on his shoulders. "To the left - no, your other left." She sniggered, clawing at his jacket, pulling it back, and kissing down his neck.

Draco carried her into the bathroom, setting her down, and moving to rip the belt right off of her. Until she swatted his hands away. He growled under his breath, letting her slip the jacket from his shoulders, and he tugged his shirt off himself. Hermione fumbled with the button on his jeans, and while he slid them off, and kicked off his shoes, she took another drink of the wine she'd left on the counter. And this time she let him pull on the end of the belt, unraveling it, and her robe fell open, exposing her bare skin.

Her pert tits were barely exposed, the robe still covering her partially, but her nipples stiffened against the thin fabric. "Fuck," he snarled, pinning her to the counter, and slipping his hand between her legs. "You look so fucking innocent, but I know you're not." He murmured in her ear, and her knees were weak as he rubbed her clit.

Hermione let her robe pool on the floor while she led him to the tub, stepping inside, and setting her glass on the rack. He chuckled behind her, sitting behind her, the water sloshing forward, and over the sides a bit. She hadn't remembered to turn the water off before she answered the door. "Is that specially made for your wine glasses?" Draco asked her, nuzzling her neck, his arms snaking around her waist.

"I enjoy my wine." She defended, laying her head against his shoulder. "It was my plan to take a relaxing bath to unwind before my exams tomorrow, but I doubt I'll be relaxing with you here."

He laughed. "I won't fuck you yet." He whispered in her ear. "Why don't you let me help you relax, Hermione?" His hands moved to her shoulder, massaging them, and her head fell forward.

Hermione gathered her hair, tying it up in a loose bun on top of her head while he gave her a massage. "Right there," she whimpered.

"There's a knot here, Hermione." He told her, applying more pressure until she moaned.

She felt boneless with her back settled against his chest while he worked her with his hands, and though it broke his concentration, she leaned back to kiss him, cupping his cheek in her hand. And his hand dropped to her breasts, kneading the soft globes, and rolling her nipples between his fingers while gasped. "More," she begged quietly, parting her legs below the water.

His left hand came to her chin, gripping it, and tilting it to the side while he bit the spot on her neck she liked the most. Reaching below the water, Draco's fingers moved over her clit, massaging the sensitive nub while she rocked against him, moaning, and whimpering that it all felt too good. But when two fingers slid inside of her, Hermione collapsed against his chest. "Oh,Daddy," she moaned, and then she shrieked when he added a third finger. "Oh, my fucking God. Draco!"

His fingers thrust in and out of her harder with each movement, until she's shaking against him, and he's positive she's moment away from falling apart under his touch. "You're such a good girl," he murmured in her ear, his forearm settling across her throat. "Do you like it rough, Hermione?"

She nodded, grinding back against his hand as he fucked her with his fingers. "I like it rougher." She managed to get out.

"And would you like for Daddy to fuck you now?" He snarled in her ear, slamming his fingers inside of her. "Would you like for me to fill you with my cock like you've been begging me for?"

"God, yes, please."

"Out of the tub then, love."

She didn't need to be told twice. Despite wanting to rush to her bedroom, Hermione carefully stepped out of the tub because she knew she would absolutely fall if she didn't. Her bedroom was just across the hall, and he shut the door behind her. "Draco, I,"

He silenced her by kissing her, gripping her small waist in his hands, and she could feel his thick cock against her belly. "I know, Hermione." He murmured before turning her around. "I want you to bend over on the bed for me, and I want you to tell me if you're okay with this, do you understand?"

She nodded. "Safe word, I assume?" She asked without looking over her shoulder. "I remember when you had Daphne and I use them that night."

"I think you remember an awful lot about that night, little girl. Why is that?" Draco asked her, and she was positive that he already remembered that she'd lamely picked a safeword of watermelon because she saw it written across a bottle in the club. "I asked a question." He whispered in her ear.

"I remember because it was one of the, if not the most, hottest things I've ever done." She admitted. "I never told you, because why would I, but Daphne and I experimented one time after that night."

"Did you enjoy it?" He asked her, smirking when she nodded. "You've always been a filthy thing though, haven't you? Going down on your best friend while I take your tight cunt from behind?" He knew it made her drip to hear about that night. It was a bit unlike her, and Daphne was the only other female she'd been with, but there was just something about him saying it.

"Yes." She answered. "Did you like how her cunt felt wrapped around you when you let me ride your tongue?" Hermione shot back, gasping when he spanked her.

Draco didn't tell her what to do. Instead he picked her up and put her on her bed, on her knees with his hand on her back to push her forward. "I enjoyed having two little girls so eager to please me like the little sluts they act like, yes." He growled, and she was fucked. Utterly fucked. "Since you remember so much, you should know what to do."

And then he spanked her arse hard, and she cried out, "One!" Of course she didn't have to look to know he was smirking. Each time Draco spanked her, he would massage her arse cheek after, so careful as to not hurt her permanently.

He gave her twenty swats, and she was soaked. "So pretty for me," he told her, tangling his fingers in her hair, and pulling her back to her knees. "I'll let you choose how I fuck you."

She pouted. "I want to suck your cock first."

He shook his head. "I think I've waited far too fucking long, love."

Not saying a word, Hermione leaned forward to rest on her arm, pushing her arse in the air. While it might be one of the ways he liked to take her in most, it happened to be her favorite. His cock slid so much deeper when he took her from behind - she remembered and -

Draco didn't tease her; instead, sliding into her tight pussy, and bottoming out, and she screamed at how full she felt. Gasping, her fingers clenched at the bed sheets while he withdrew until only the tip was left inside of her, and then slammed into her roughly again.

And she'd asked for it rough, and he pulled her hair, and whispered how good she was, how hot she was wrapped around him. He was the only man she'd ever been able to finish with, with only penetration, and every time his cock slid into her, she felt as if she were teetering on the edge of her orgasm. Hermione reached for her clit, rubbing in quick circles as she moaned under him.

He murmured how she was perfect, and she wasn't sure if she was meant to hear it with how quiet his voice was. "Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," he panted, tugging on her curls - they had long since slipped from her hair tie - and dragging his nails down the soft skin of her back.

Hermione screamed. She didn't care about her bloody neighbors, who immediately banged on the floor from overhead. "I'm coming." She shrieked, and he pulled her up, his fingers wrapping tightly around her throat.

"Are you going to come on my cock, you filthy, fucking girl?" He growled, still slamming into her as he swatted her hand away from her sensitive clit. "This is mine." He told her, rubbing quick circles much better than she'd been able to. "You're fucking mine."

"Yes," she sobbed, clinging to his arm, her nails digging into his forearms as she screamed in pleasure. She might have came twice, one after another. She wasn't completely sure if that was the case, or if he had merely given her the most mind blowing orgasm of her life - and yeah, that was saying something considering all of her partners she'd had in life -, but Hermione was certain she was going to pass out.

Draco had stayed the night, and she didn't have to deal with Daphne hovering outside her door all night. At some point she'd sent Hermione a text about visiting Astoria, but she'd been too busy fucking Draco to notice.

The other times, he'd muffled her cries with his palm the her neighbors wouldn't call the police, which he was certain they were on the verge of.

And after four more times, Hermione crawled out of bed to find her phone and order takeaway. Having stolen his shirt, she much preferred him shirtless, Hermione lounged on the couch in the living room while laying on his chest. Their food would be delivered any minute, and she would just cover up with a blanket when he answered the door.

He told her to not put her knickers on, and she was eager to listen, knowing it would lead to him slipping inside of her again when she climbed into his lap. When the doorbell did ring, her phone vibrated in her lap as he was carrying their food back to the coffee table. "Who is it?"

She bit her lip. "Cormac. I've been so busy with you that I never bothered to tell him I was in a relationship, or, fuck, I don't know what we're calling this. But I've been too happy to waste time by telling him I'm not interested." She tossed her phone onto the table, grabbing her box of noodles.

He snorted. "So he was wanting to hook up then?"

She nodded, her mouth already full of food, and he rolled his eyes. "Can I ask you if Katie ever texted you again?"

Draco just handed her his phone. "Password is your birthday." He muttered, grabbing his own box.

Hermione blinked. "Really?" She asked, but then she tested it for herself, and it went through. "Draco, that's," she broke off, her eyes stinging. "That's actually so fucking cute."

"Granger," he started, red dusting his cheek bones, but he was cut off when she tackled him right off of the couch.

And he forgot about their food when she moved against him.

Chapter Text



Chapter Eight

Draco had moved her flowers into her bedroom before he left the next morning, shortly before she had to leave. He'd asked for her keys, tossing her the remote to unlock her car - for when she made it out of bed - and told her he would start her car for her. It was freezing, and there would be enough time for it to heat up while she got dressed.

She was still crawling out of bed when he'd left, and he dropped a kiss to her forehead, and she told him she would call him later. She was sure she absolutely didn't deserve him, and she felt the searing guilt as she remembered each little thing over the last year that had given away how he felt.

First and foremost, he'd always watched her. For a bit, Hermione was able to brush it off as he was just looking after her. He was her boss, and semi friend - it had taken at least another month after having a threesome with him in the middle for her to look him in the eye - and he was probably just concerned with how a shy bookworm was going to affect his business. Daphne had been the one to coax her into getting out more, to being more open to well, anything, and everything. So when she'd caught the sight of him looking so furious when Regulus Black picked her up one night, she had just thought he was surprised, and that maybe he was angry she was seeing a guest. Not that Regulus ever caused a scene.

She felt every bit of a fool now that she had merely thought he was being her friend when they went to dinner with Daphne, and eventually Theo. For the most part, Hermione was able to avoid him outside of working hours, and she knew it had been the way it needed to stay. He tested her self control, clearly.

Hermione pulled a pair of jeans from her closet, and a dark blue blouse. Her hair was fucked, too fucked to waste time brushing the knots out when she needed to leave immediately to arrive on time. She'd spent the entire morning curled up to him, tracing a scar on his chest that held her attention. And when she pressed her lips against every inch of the scar that stretched across his chest, he'd lifted her into his lap.

Draco was insatiable. There was no doubt about that, and he murmured the excuse of how he had a lot of time to make up for when she mentioned it.

"Oh, fuck," she groaned, her brush dropping with a loud clatter to her vanity as she held her hair up, fingers stretched as she was about to tie it up. Until she saw the fucking huge mark he'd left on her neck. There was no amount of makeup that could cover that up.

There was a missed call from Tom Riddle on her phone when she slid back into her car, and her stomach dropped. Calling him back through her car's bluetooth, she locked her doors out of habit, and leaned back in the seat.

"Riddle," he answered, and he sounded as pretentious as ever. "I was hoping you would return my call, Miss Granger."

She tapped her fingers against the steering column. "I apologize for missing the call in the first place. I was in the middle of an exam."

There was a sound in the background that sounded like rustling papers, as if he were sifting through mountains of paperwork. Doubtful, she was sure a man like Tom Riddle had someone organize his shit for him. "Draco called me yesterday. I thought it would be best to contact you on one of your days off. Less likely that he would be with you."

"Hmm," she replied. "I already paid you back for that loan, and I have a receipt -"

He laughed, the sound rolling off his tongue sounded dark, and she shivered. "Yes, I'm quite aware that you were insistent that I write out a receipt for you."

"I barely know you; I couldn't be too sure that you wouldn't say it never happened." Hermione said quickly. "Why are you calling me?"

"Like a I previously mentioned," he retort was barbed, and she could so clearly imagine that he was rolling his eyes, clicking his tongue at her. "Draco called me earlier yesterday. The only reason this concerns you at all was because he was explaining how he had discovered why the Shrieking Shack was losing profit by such a large margin. He was insistent that the problem would be resolved rather quickly, and he was sure he would be able to pay me back in larger sums."

Hermione's eyes widened, and she gripped her steering wheel tightly. "I see." She muttered.

Tom chuckled. "You haven't told him then. Why is that, Miss Granger? I very highly doubt he would be upset you had gone and meddled in his business; from what he's told me before, you're adept at meddling."

"Yes, too bad I can't put that in my skills section on a resume. No, I haven't told him. And I fail to see how that is any of your business." She snapped.

"It would be best for him to learn the truth from you, Miss Granger."

Hermione pressed the end call button several times, much too aggressively, before hanging her head. Eaten by guilt, she already knew that it would be worse because they had had already spent so much time together. The late nights at the club, going to early breakfasts nearly every night when she got home from work, and the previous night he'd stayed at her house. And to tell him now, of course it would be worse, but to wait even longer?

She didn't want to think of the ramifications.

It was a horrible idea to put it out of her head, but she did. The last thing she genuinely wanted was to ruin a night before it began, and while she didn't think Draco should be upset about it, she knew he would be.

So she didn't tell Daphne - he would have known because of her big mouth before the night was over - either. And when Hermione pulled into the parking garage of Draco's flat, her friend reached over to squeeze her shoulder reassuringly, with the words that she didn't have a reason to worry really, and she reminded Hermione that Draco was crazy about her. And it just made her feel worse.

Though in the company of Theo and Draco, she would let those worries slip away, because it was too easy to be sucked into having a good night with friends. And that's what she stuck with, that Malfoy had been her friend before he became...well, whatever this was now. It wasn't as if she'd taken the time to ask him. The talking they did during intimate moments were heated, never serious, and she wasn't sure how she could look him in the eye when she felt like she was lying to him.

It turned out to be incredibly easy because the moment he opened the door, he yanked her forward by the front of her blouse, and pressed his lips to hers feverishly as if he hadn't just left her twelve hours earlier. There was yelling, and obnoxious clapping from Theo, who yelled almost directly into her ear.

"I thought Malfoy was fucking joking." He exclaimed, tipping a tumbler to his lips. "Fuck, how did you finally win her over, mate?" Hitting Draco on the back with an open palm, with enough force to send Draco stumbling into her - his fingers gripping her waist possessively - Theo was grinning ear to ear.

"Yeah, the bitch didn't even tell me at first either." Daphne said. "However, now that we have that out of the way, what were the two of you thinking when you decided to start without us?"Daphne waved toward the already open bottles of booze.

It was refreshing to see her best friend making a fool out of herself. Daphne Greengrass was never awkward, but Hermione had to muffle her laugh against Draco's shoulder. Daphne nudged Theo in the ribs, stretching up to grab the glass from his hand. And he stepped backwards from her, raising it with a smirk as she tried to reach up to get it.

Hermione recognized it was an opportunity for Theo to peek down her shirt, and to get the blonde pressed against him. It worked marvelously until he slipped on the rug, and dumped the whiskey over both Daphne, and Hermione. While it soaked Daphne, and her shirt clung to her curves, only a few droplets landed in Hermione's hair.

Daphne didn't miss a beat. "Well, if I have to lose my shirt, everyone else should suffer the same." She said, gripping the hem of her shirt, and tugging it over her head.

"That's my bra." Hermione pointed out, glaring at her as she posed in the sapphire blue lingerie, her tits nearly spilling from the cups. "And I'm not taking off my shirt just because," Draco's thumbs slid between the hem of her shirt, and her jeans as if he were seconds from tearing it over her head. "you're clumsy at flirting."

Daphne glared at her. "Well, I propose we should make a game out of it. For every thing that someone says they haven't done, that you have done, you take a drink, and you take off an item of clothing. And no wimpy shite like a sock here and there. If my tits are out, yours will be too."

Hermione turned to look at Draco. "How dreadful, they're going to learn how flat chested you are."

He snorted. "Sure, Greengrass, I'll play along." He tugged Hermione into the kitchen, out of sight of their friends as he picked her up, and set her on the counter. "Do you have a plan for getting them together, or have you thought that far ahead?" He murmured, moving his lips along her jaw. His grip on her hips was rough, and she could just imagine how easy it would be for him to take her right her on the counter.

She shook her head slowly. "I was sure I'd be able to think of something. I didn't want it to be too obvious what I was doing."

He nodded, sliding his hands under her top. "I doubt Daphne will notice what you're doing no matter how obvious it is. I know how jealous she gets; I've grown up with her."

Hermione's grip tightened in his hair when he pulled her bra down, his fingers moving against heated flesh. "You're sure that you're okay with this? I might have to snog him, or I - fuck!" She hissed when he pinched her nipple.

"Just don't fuck him," he paused. "unless I'm fucking you too. Even if you snog him, Granger, it's my bed you're staying in tonight."

She nodded breathlessly. "If I ever do want to have a threesome with another man, I assure you it will not be Theo." Hermione shuddered at the thought of it. "He's like an older brother. I don't even want to think of his cock anywhere near me."

Draco snorted. "Yes, well, I can be rather creative with toys while I'm buried inside your tight cunt." He hinted, his hand sliding down the front part of her jeans.

Her breathing hitched at the thought -

"Oi, what's taking so long with - Malfoy, get your hand out of Hermione's knickers!" Theo shouted, and the back of her head connected with the overhead cupboards.

"They weren't in her knickers yet." Draco deadpanned, reaching around her to pull four shot glasses from the cupboard. "Alright," he muttered, holding them in one hand, and lacing his fingers through Hermione's as he led her back into the living room.

Hermione sat on the couch, kicking her heels off, and tucking her legs underneath her. Holding out her hand for the shot Draco handed to her, she waited for him to sit behind her before leaning bac. "Daph can start since she's already lost an article of clothing." Hermione suggested.

Grinning, her friend nodded, holding her glass up before saying "Never have I ever had my arse fucked."

Hermione swallowed the bitter liquid before tugging her top off, but she didn't blush at all. Until Draco whispered in her ear. "Who was that?" He asked softly, kissing soft skin on her neck. "I'm genuinely curious."

She shook her head. "I wouldn't want to make you jealous."

He nibbled her ear lobe. "Quite the opposite. You like to get fucked, and I'm not upset to hear about it. And Theo has her distracted, so come on, Granger."

She swallowed. "Sirius, and Regulus Black." She whispered, and his fingers pinched her nipple through her bra. "In Sirius's shop. Regulus and I had a fling - it was short - and Sirius walked in on us once. They fucked me on the floor, over the hood of a car."

"What are you two whispering about?" Daphne asked, and she clammed up, pulled out of a memory where the Black brothers had stretched her holes, and fucked her while the shop was still open, and anyone could have walked in to see her clinging to them both.

"Nothing," Hermione chimed, ignoring the shaking of Draco's chest as he laughed behind her. "Never have I ever sent my mum a video of me playing with myself by mistake." She dissolved into giggles when Daphne rolled her eyes, drinking, and then leaning back to shimmy out of her jeans after she'd kicked her shoes off. "It's still funny."

"She tried to take me to a nunnery." Daphne scowled. "A nunnery!"

Draco spoke from behind her, voicing that it was his turn. "Never have I ever been sucked off while driving."

Theo took the shot, "Not that it was anything great. I thought Lavender was going to bite my prick off." He shrugged, choosing to take of his trousers first. "That bird had some sharp teeth."

"Well, that's why you don't go around putting your prick in anything that had tits." Daphne scolded him, and Hermione would have recognized the jealousy anywhere. And also because she'd had to listen to her friends complaints when Theo had taken Lavender Brown to dinner.

"Never have I ever been fucked in the loo at the Shrieking Shack." Theo said.

Hermione shared a sheepish look with Daphne before they both drank. Hermione pushed her jeans off, and Daphne unclasped her bra. With her tits out, her nipples stiffening against the cool air of the room, Hermione considered the fact that she might not have to do anything at all. "We didn't fuck eachother." Daphne blurted.

"Then who did you fuck?" Draco asked, and if he was irritated she'd been fucked by someone else inside of his club, he didn't show it.

"Well, we," Daphne was so clearly struggling with it, and so maybe they had agreed not to say anything, but -

"Charlie Weasley." Hermione said simply, followed by, "His younger brother might be the biggest bastard I've ever met in my life, but," she shrugged.

"You are such a dirty girl," Draco whispered in her ear, his fingers trailing along her spine. "Before you think I am, I'm not upset. I fucked someone inside of the club too." He chuckled when she huffed, not liking the sound of that at all.

And so round the game went. Hermione lost her bra to a statement by Theo, who said no one had ever gone down on him in a shop, and Hermione begrudgingly admitted technically, Sirius's mechanic shop was a shop. And Regulus had set her on top of the desk, and spread her legs. She was surprised, and grateful mostly, that Draco didn't get angry about it. She'd had her own experiences, and so had he, and it was refreshing to talk about so openly.

She lost her knickers Daphne saying she'd never spanked until she couldn't sit down. That experience belonged to Draco, who during the night she'd spent with both him and Daphne, she'd argued so fucking much that he'd bent her over his lap, spanking her while he told her to count. And to thank him for every single one. She was wet just thinking about it, and she wanted to be in that position once more before the night was over.

All four of them were drunk, so fucking drunk. Her head was spinning. The man behind her had long since lost his trousers, his underwear, and everything else. So had Theo, and Daphne was naked before the rest of them. And considering Draco Malfoy could not give less of a fuck who saw him touch her, no one batted an eye when he rubbed her clit. And yet, they were still playing for absolutely no reason at all except for a good time.

"Never have I ever had my throat fucked," Daphne said.

Hermione grinned, taking a drink. "Last week."

"Laid her across my desk." Draco said simply, and then though no one but her was surprised, he lifted her up and slid inside of her tight cunt. She gasped, settling into his lap, and adjusting to the thickness of him. "She loves to take cock down her throat." He murmured, brushing his thumbs across her nipples.

Theo's gaze didn't linger on her; he'd been too busy drinking in the sight of Daphne all night. "Fucking lucky. I haven't gotten sucked off in so fucking long."

Hermione bit her lip. "I could fix that."

Daphne's head snapped up to look at her. "What?" She snapped. "I think the fuck not." She hissed, moving toward Theo.

Hermione looked back to Draco. "Do you think that will be enough?" She whispered, rolling her hips against him. He nodded, leaning his head toward them. In the seconds she'd liked away, her friend had probably been the one to make the move, but that was enough. "Bedroom now." Hermione gasped. She slid off of him, standing and letting him lead her to his bedroom.

But then he stopped, and faced her, a mischievous smirk on his face, and she knew he was in trouble. "I think I'd like to fuck you here," he murmured, guiding her back toward the couch. "You like to be watched don't you, little girl?"

She nodded.


Chapter Text


Chapter Nine

Neither of their friends had noticed them yet. Theo's head was tilted back as Daphne took him into her mouth, already sliding her lips to the base of his cock. She couldn't help but look at how Theo's fingers slid easily into her best friend's dripping cunt, and how she was moaning loudly as she relaxed beside him.

"I told you." Draco whispered in her ear, sitting on the couch, and bringing her to sit with her back pressed against his chest. He pinched her nipple as he murmured in her ear for her to spread her legs so he could touch her pretty pussy, and she listened to him immediately. His fingers were barely there, barely brushing against her sensitive clit, and she shivered in his lap, wishing he would slam inside of her.

Hermione wiggled her arse, feeling a bit daring, but his fingers slid into her hair tightly, and he pulled her head back. "Don't act out, princess, or I'll spank your ass until you can't sit down."

She gasped, grinding against him again, feeling his cock slide in between her arse. "Daddy," it was a shriek, an incredibly loud shriek that all of his neighbors would hear that tumbled from her lips as two fingers thrust into her cunt, curling against her walls.

"They're watching you," he whispered in her ear. "They know what a dirty little girl you like to be for me." Draco told her, withdrawing his fingers, and chuckling at the low whine that escaped her. "Only good girls get fucked." He let go of her hair, and through the slightly tipsy haze - she was already feeling a bit sober-, her head fell forward.

He hadn't been lying. Both Theo, and Draco were watching her, and she'd be lying if she said it wasn't hot as fuck. "Maybe," she panted, grabbing his hand and putting it back between her legs, "but bad girls get punished."

She would never tire of the way it felt when his fingers latched into her hair, threading through them, and just how wet it made her when he put her on her knees. The carpet was soft against her knees, but she didn't make the mistake of thinking it would stay that way. Draco didn't say a word to her as he motioned with his finger for her to turn around, and then he pushed her to her hands and knees.

Across from her, Daphne's eyes widened.

"Do you remember what you need to do?" Draco asked her, his fingernails scraping along her spine. She gave a shaky nod. "Safe word?" He asked her softly, whispering it into her ear.

Hermione nodded, and it was followed quickly by a sharp slap against her arse. "One," she moaned, her fingers curling into fists as she held herself up. "Two." She counted each swat, whimpering when he massaged her arse cheeks after each one he gave her, though she was begging for more. And when she finally thought he was going to give her the final spanking, he gripped her hips, and pulled her backward, impaling her on his thick cock.

Her moan was guttural as her fingers dug into the carpet as she rocked against him wantonly. "Fuck!" She hissed when pulled her head up by her hair, and began to pound into her mercilessly. "God, Daddy." She drug out the name, not at all fucking caring how her breasts were shaking while their friends watching him rail her.

"Do you think he wants to fuck you?" He whispered in her ear, nodding toward Theo.

Who she had to admit was watching her hungrily. She shook her head. "Not at all, but I think -" she whimpered as he slammed into her again. "That he wants something."

He hummed in her ear, reaching down to rub her clit. "Maybe he wants you to lick her cunt, princess." He felt her shiver against him, her walls clenching around his cock, and he had her. "Such a good slut," he whispered, "would you like that?"

"I don't know." She bit out, letting her head fall back against his shoulder.

"It doesn't upset me," he cooed, pinching her stiffened nipple. "Daddy will share you, just not with him. Only Daddy can fill your little cunt full of come."

She gasped, "Daddy!" Her orgasm slammed into her, and it wasn't one she'd felt coming at all. Just with his fucking words, and the feather light touches of his fingers over her clit had her coming over his cock. "Fuck," she whispered.

He didn't give her anytime to recover as he flipped her onto her back, but she did catch the nod he gave to Theo. It was right after that Theo pushed Daphne onto her back, the blonde laying upside down next to Hermione. As Draco lifted her Hermione's legs onto his shoulders, Daphne whispered, "I can't believe you tried to pretend you'd fuck Theo."

She giggled, "It worked, didn't it? He's going to fuck you silly."

"It's nothing compared to what Draco is going to do to you." Daphne whispered, sliding her fingers through Hermione's when Theo spread her legs and slid into her, his hand flat on her stomach as he thrust into her. "Oh, my God," she squealed, holding on tightly to Hermione's hand.

"Daddy, please," Hermione pleaded, peering up at him through her lashes. The first thrust was unforgiving, and her back arched off the carpet with how hard he slid into her. She would be sore in the morning, and she would crawl into his lap to take him again, no doubt.

It was Daphne who leaned toward her, as they were both getting fucked, and pressed her lips to Hermione's.

Hermione gasped, letting her tongue slid against the seam of her lips, kissing her friend feverishly. Daphne pinched Hermione's nipple, pulling on it roughly just so she could greedily swallow her best friend's moans for herself.

They could hear the groans coming from both men. Draco spoke of her, rather than to her, saying that she was such a sweet little whore that loved to be stretched by his cock.

It was Hermione who whimpered, and keened when Theo gathered Daph in his arms, and pulled her away from her. "Shh," Draco told her. "You'll love this, princess. Will you get on your hands and knees for me again?" He guided her by her hips as she did, pressing kisses along her spine. "He's going to fuck her so well, and you can taste her sweet little cunt."

She nodded, looking to Daphne. She was nibbling on her bottom lip, nodding to Hermione as Theo slid into her, pumping into her as she was in reverse cowgirl, and Hermione crawled toward her.

Draco swatted her arse. The tip of his cock just barely sliding into her as she licked Daphne's clit. Feeling him sheathe himself of her while Daphne's fingers curled in her hair, drawing her closer to her, only made her shake.

It was all so overwhelming. Daphne was shaking as her tongue slid against her clit, and then as she slid two fingers into her tight cunt while Theo was buried in her arse. Daphne moaned, her fingernails scratching against her scalp. Each thrust from Draco made her feel as if she couldn't take much more, but in the best possible way because she was certain she was too tightly wound, and she was going to shatter.

Hermione wasn't sure if it was mainly her tongue that pushed Daphne over the edge, but what she did know was that her best friend was screaming, and she was spasming as Hermione continued to lap at her clit. Spreading her folds, she dragged her tongue through her soaked cunt, sucking lightly on her sensitive nub that no doubt had her coming undone.

As if they had planned it, which she knew fully well they hadn't, Draco pulled out from her cunt. "What are you.." But she already knew that he was going to make sure Daph returned the favor as his fingers slid into her cunt, rubbing her slickness over her arse.

Draco moved slowly, letting her adjust to the size of him. "You're so fucking hot wrapped around me, princess." He told her.

And it was not long before she was coming again - and that events of their night seemed too much to be true.

The next morning, Hermione woke sprawled in Draco's bed. The large four poster bed was fitted with silk sheets, and she'd ripped them from the corner with all of her turning in her sleep. Or it might have been how she'd stirred at four in the morning to sneak below the sheets and wake him as well.

It was early, just past six, when the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains. Yanking the covers over her head, nearly clocking herself in the process, she snuggled closer to him, throwing her leg over his.

There was a low rumble from his throat as he ran his fingers along her spine, rubbing lazy circles over her bared skin. "Good morning," he murmured, his lips brushing against the top of her hair. It was undoubtedly matted, and fucked, and it would take more than a brush to fix it.

Hermione shook her head, sliding her palm over his chest until it rested on his shoulder. "Go back to sleep, Malfoy. It's just too early for this."

"Is it?" He asked her playfully, his arm tightening around her as he lifted her onto his lap. "You must be exhausted."

She didn't play along, instead falling to lay on his chest once more. "I am. So much sex," she muttered.

His chest shook against her as he laughed, trailing his touch up her sides. "I was thinking we should do something for Christmas - if you're willing."

She lifted her head from his chest, hair falling in her face. It would have been nice to think it was a sultry display, but Hermione knew her head resembled a birds' nest that had fallen from a tree, hitting every branch in the way down, when she woke up in the mornings. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

He smirked. "Well first off, do you have any plans to visit your parents over the holiday?"

She winced. It was a sore spot; after they had found out she'd began work at a gentlemen's club there had been a rather large spat. Her father said 'gentlemen's club' was a polite way of saying whore house, and that definitely wasn't how he raised her. "I haven't seen them since I lost my scholarship. Since I started working for you, really."

"Still? I thought your mother.."

She shook her head, laying her chin in her hands so it wouldn't be jabbing into her sternum. Her legs were tangled with his. "She tried to smooth things over, but he's very opinionated, and he told me not to come home."

Draco's lips dropped into a frown. "It's his loss."

Her shoulders fell. "I'm not looking forward to the holidays, but," she sighed. "It's nothing. It doesn't hurt me so much anymore. Tell me what you had in mind?"

"Well, I thought you might like to get away, maybe." He added quickly as her eyebrows raised. "We have a cottage up near Wiltshire, and the club will be closed for five days anyway -" Draco was cut off by her phone ringing, too shrill for the early morning hours they should have been enjoying together.

She groaned. "Just answer it."

Her regret did not come immediately. Draco didn't even bother to look at the name that appeared across the screen, just pressing it to his ear. "Hello, this is Draco Malfoy answering Hermione Granger's phone." He wore a lopsided grin as he looked down at her, and she had to stifle a laugh.

Until - "Well, isn't this awkward?" It was unmistakably Tom Riddle's drawl that she could hear, and her heart dropped.

Draco pulled the phone from his ear in confusion, glancing st the number - she hadn't saved it - before being it back to his ear. "Riddle, why the fuck are you calling Hermione?"

She could hear the rustling in the background before Tom let out a heavy sigh. "I think it's best to let her explain, but I won't be needing you to make anymore payments on your loan. It's been paid in full." The line disconnected, and she was already scrambling off of him.

Hermione grabbed her shirt, not stopping to wonder when he'd brought her clothes into his room. "Before you yell at me," she said, tugging her shirt over her head, and grabbing her knickers. "I only wanted to help, and I met him in a public place."

Draco stood from the bed, running his fingers through his hair harshly. "When?"


"When did you meet with Riddle? I want the entire truth, Hermione." His voice was tight, all too low, and the room seemed to sink inwards.

She swallowed. "I called him when I found out about the loan." Hermione said weakly. "When you left to get the first aid kit that night — I found his phone number in your phone. I met him the next day and I -"

Cutting her off, his eyes narrowed. "And how did you pay him?" He hissed.

She didn't understand, not at first, but when it dawned on her it felt as if he'd physically struck her. "What the fuck do you think I did, Draco? I handed over the amount of the loan in cash. Do you think I just whored myself out to Tom Riddle?"

"How the fuck would I even know since you've been lying to me?" He yelled. "You fucking love sex so much that I wouldn't be surprised! When the fuck did you meet him then, Hermione? For just how long have you conveniently omitted the truth?" He repeated the question she'd already partially answered.

Her voice shook as tears filled her eyes and she looked away from him. "When you came back into your office, and I was on your phone. I got his number from your phone the day you sent me the text about the loan accidentally."

Malfoy clenched his jaw. "That was a month ago." He growled, and when she didn't reply, his voice woke the entire flat, and probably the surrounding ones. "What the fuck were you thinking?" He roared, and she backed against the wall.

"Maybe that I wanted to help, and you never accept help!" She screamed back, snatching her jeans up from the floor. "If you're anything, Draco, it's fucking stubborn!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, not even looking at her. "And if you're anything, it's fucking stupid." He growled, and she froze.

"Fuck you."

His eyes softened, but only barely before he backpedaled. "Hermione, that's not how I meant it — you scolded me because he was a fucking psychopath, but you just went off and met him."

"Yeah, I did for you."

"I didn't want your help, Granger." He hissed, and Hermione stormed past him to grab her phone from the table. "You know who he is, how he is, and you what? Did you sit down and have coffee with him as if he's never been the reason for someone's stint in the hospital?"

She glared at him, not even bothering with her shoes. "If you'd really like to know, I sat across from him and handed him my entire savings for university. And I didn't even do it because I had feelings for you, Draco, despite the fact that I did. I did it because you're my friend, and you didn't deserve to have it hanging over your head."

The truth hit him hard, the heavy weight that it was her future she's used to pay off a debt for him. And she could see it in the way he bit his lip, in how he nearly didn't reply to her, but then he did. "That was the stupidest thing you've ever done." He yelled, and there was a loud thud against the bedroom door.

It sounded as if one of their friends had fallen against it.

Hermione sucked in a breath, and her eyes began to water as she turned to wrench the door open. Theo was sitting in the floor, looking past her at Draco. "You know what, Malfoy? Maybe trying to have a relationship with you was the stupidest thing I've ever done because I know that I lied to you, and I can't fault you for being angry, but I never once thought you would insult me."

She stepped over Theo and Daphne appeared from around the corner, shouldering her purse. "You don't have to leave with me." Hermione murmured.

"Like fuck I'm staying here. Let's go." Daphne looped her arm through Hermione's.

And what hurt the most was probably that he didn't stop her. There was no frantic footsteps as he hurried to stop her.

There was the sound of glass shattering, and she was sure he'd broken a mirror on the wall beside the bedroom door.


Chapter Text


Chapter Ten

She'd gone through with showing up for her shift that Friday, and it had gone even worse than she expected. Given how low her expectations had been, it was probably saying something.

Friday's were supposed to be her best nights, but from the start she felt sick. Making the trek across the parking lot, Theo tried to stop her at the door only to be brushed off. She knew he'd tell her it was okay to take time, but she didn't want time.

What she wanted was her boss, but since she'd crossed the line and ultimately fucked it up, she wanted to make him eat his heart out.

Hermione didn't expect it to hurt, but in hindsight she should have. Walking in as if nothing has changed threatened to make her vomit. And as she made her way to the dressing room, it was abundantly clear that there was nothing here anymore.

The lights, the music, the middle stage that she should have been stepping into in ten minutes — she didn't care at all. How could she have thought it would be easy to dance in front of him. She'd given him a private dance weeks earlier. What had taken months to feel like home was destroyed in a few weeks.

It didn't matter where she looked, he'd had her pressed against it at some point.

Hermione turned around, storming down the hallways to his office, and she banged on the door. The heavy door swung open, and she pushed past him. "There should be enough to learn who's been stealing from the club." She muttered, sitting in his chair. "I just wanted to make sure this was finished before I left."

"Daphne was supposed to tell you I said you should take time off." He murmured, and she refused to listen to the softness of his voice.

"I don't care what you think I should do, Malfoy." She hissed, her fingers clicking against the keyboard, and she moved the mouse cursor across the screen.

"You could have opened the door on your own. You know the code."

"For all I know you've changed the password. It doesn't seem so far fetched since you ignored my texts, or my calls." Hermione retorted.

She had tried to put herself out there to fix it. Daphne had always told her she was too stubborn, and that it held her back from so much, and that Draco didn't mean any of the awful things he said. But he couldn't take them back, and trying to fix things didn't get her anywhere but a voicemail, and being left on read.

Draco groaned. "I knew you would bring that up. I was furious, Hermione. I couldn't have spoken to you without insulting you." At her lack of response, he added, "You're not stupid."

She spun in the chair to look at him. Angry at everything that had built up only to be fucking wrecked, she stood, and jabbed him in the sternum. "I don't need you to bloody tell me that, Malfoy!"

"I regret how I said it—"

The computer beeper behind her, and she knew once she turned that it would have run the software and whoever was stealing, or most likely to be stealing would be revealed. And then she'd have no reason to stay, so she didn't look at that results before she tore into him.

"But not what you said." She deadpanned. "Listen, Malfoy, we tried. It didn't work, and it's fine. I would have always wondered, but now I know. I made a choice, and I would do it all over again."

Hermione sat back down, missing the way he reached for her as she scribbled down two names. And then she grabbed a fresh sheet of copy paper. She didn't look up at him as she wrote it, knowing she'd lose her nerve, and she'd fling herself into his arms, and she was not going to fold. Not this time. "Your thief is Goyle, and probably Crabbe before you chucked him out. I'll leave you to deal with the proper authorities since it's your club."

Draco blocked her path. "I would have never known without you,"

"You would have figured it out. Regardless, I no longer work here, so this doesn't concern me. As my former employer, you should know that my home address is updated, and that's where you should send my final check to." Hermione muttered, pressed the folded resignation letter into the palm of his hand. "It was nice working with you, Malfoy. I should have never crossed the line."

He murmured something; he tried to grab her, but she slipped out of his grip.

And she wasn't sure which was more heartbreaking - that she left him, and her heart was surely in pieces, or that there was no beep as the door opened for him to chase after her.

Hermione had been through a breakup before; she'd been through a couple breakups to be honest. And with each one, she learned something. With Ron, well, wasn't it obvious? She didn't need a boyfriend to keep her happy, and she certainly didn't need one who seemed to depend on her. She realized she was worth more, and slowly, her perception of things changed.

Fucking Draco Malfoy at a university party had come when her split from Ron was still so raw, and it physically hurt her to seem him dry humping Lavender Brown against the wall. It had come as a shock, with fingers tangling into her hair, tumblers being slammed against the counter of a kitchen island that was littered with bottles of booze. With the words of, "who the fuck do they think they are?" sounding low in her ear. The darkness in it made her shiver, and the Hermione Granger that was then was far too innocent to have led him into a room upstairs on her own.

Wincing at the memory, one that she shouldn't dwell on , Hermione leaned forward to fill her wine glass once more. Daphne would be home soon, though she was supposed to be going out with Theo. To see a movie, Daph told her, but with wiggling her fingers at her, she also mentioned they wouldn't be watching the movie.

But her best friend had texted her a half hour earlier to let her know those plans had fallen through - probably a lie -, and that she would be home soon. We can make a girls' night of it, Mione. Pick some movies, and put on your pajamas. It was nice though, sitting on their sofa in pajamas while they watched movies and gossipped like old women.

Except her face was stained with tears, her mascara flaked, and having run over her cheeks, and her eyes were probably still bloodshot. It had been seven days since she walked out of the club, and he hadn't called her. And it didn't matter that she knew he wasn't going to if he hadn't yet, but with each notification on her phone, she would run for in the hopes that he had. It was a bitter cycle, and two cartons of chinese takeaway sat on their coffee table, accompanied by the pint of ice cream in her hands.

Back on the subject of dating -

After her short - not to be mentioned again, she promised herself - night with Draco, there had been Viktor Krum. All around a nice guy, perhaps too nice to her, but he'd been fun. It didn't work out for the reason that the chemistry just wasn't there. And she couldn't completely help that she compared everyone to Malfoy. There hadn't been anymore relationships after that as it was shortly after that when she started dancing at the Shrieking Shack. And really, she'd gotten into enough without a relationship that tied her down.

Quitting her job, and beating herself up over the last few months in which she'd finally crossed the line with her boss was a stark reminder of why she'd sworn off relationships. A casual hook up? Maybe a

friends with benefits relationship like she'd had with Regulus Black? Fine, she could walk away from that unscathed.

She didn't need Daphne to tell her, though she had anyway, that this breakup hurt her because she was in love with him. Hermione had spat out that "Obviously, Greengrass, and I'm pretty fucking sure I've been falling in love with him the whole time I worked for him." But it made everything so much worse.

Cormac had called, seemingly hearing about her breakup which had happened almost before the relationship ever got started. Hermione rejected the call, rolling her eyes when he texted her. It was a simple enough, hey, I heard about what happened. Are you okay? Anything I can do? Which loosely - no, exactly - translated to You should let me fuck you until you forget about your boyfriend. Nevermind that it wasn't possible, but the thought of anyone else touching her made her nauseous, and just, no.

Daphne forced the door open, the lock nearly freezing along with the ice. "It's freezing." She growled, tearing her soaked shirt over her head, and snatching the camisole Hermione had laid over the recliner for her. "Oh, you grabbed my favorite one! Thank you. What do you -" breaking off from the question of what would they watch, Daphne's eyes widened at the sight of her. "Hermione, baby." She said softly, walking around the table, and sitting on the couch beside her, tucking her legs beneath her.

Her friend pulled Hermione by her shoulders, and laid her head against her chest, running her fingers through her hair. "He hasn't even called, or texted me, or anything." She hiccuped, her spoon falling to their white carpet that would stain if she didn't grab it soon.

Daph hummed in her ear. "He's a wreck, babe, but for all the times I've told you to put yourself out there, this isn't one of them. Draco has to come to you this time, alright? He said some hurtful shit, and he knows it."

"And if he doesn't, I don't need him." Hermione said sadly, her eyes watering again as she turned her face away from Daphne. "I'll get mascara on you." She mumbled.

"Doesn't matter. If Malfoy doesn't come crawling back to you by the end of the week, I'm convinced he was always an asshole, and never even deserved to be in the same room as you."

Hermione shook her head slowly. "I did lie to him though, Daphne.."

A shrug of her shoulders. "You did, but I don't think it was a lie that ends a relationship. You could have worked through it, but he just accused you of cheating." She hissed. "Come on, sit up. Lets watch a movie. What did you pull out?" Grabbing the stack from the table, Daphne looked through them. "The Notebook, Titanic, Dirty Dancing - Hermione, these are the worst ones you could have picked!"

"At least someone is happy," she murmured, motioning to them, "except for Rose because Jack dies. But -"

"I am not going to debate whether there was enough room on that door right now, Hermione." She said seriously.

"There was," Hermione snapped.

"For fucks sake, what are you eating?" She grabbed the container from Hermione's hands, her eyebrows nearly shooting into her hairline. "Breakup brownie? What the fuck is this? We're watching horror movies, and eating popcorn. Get to it, Granger."

She hated to admit when she was wrong. It was one of her worst traits she was told, but fuck if it didn't burn her now. Not only was quite literally all of her savings gone - not that she could bring herself to regret it - she'd just dropped the last of the money in her bank account to pay for the next semester of classes. A semester in which she'd be a full time student while working at a rival bar.

She didn't like it one bit, but Tom Riddle apparently worked with several club owners, and had rang her while she was still in bed moping. At the least, she wasn't dancing. She refused to dance even when he asked her, even when the owner offered to pay her double her hourly wages. Hermione wasn't going to dance for someone that wasn't Draco. But she needed to pay for her ridiculous half of bills somehow, and mixing drinks seemed like it would be enough.

Grabbing a low cut shirt from her closet, she tightened the straps of her bra before pressing her tits together. Satisfied with how appealing her cleavage looked in the black v neck, Hermione wore a tight fitting pair of jeans. Underneath at least two layers of foundation, she knew there were dark circles under her eyes still. Grabbing her keys, she let the door slam shut behind her even as Daphne was calling out to her.

Working for Antonin Dolohov made her think she'd rather sell her body on a corner of London than work for him. He was shady, and underhanded, and he'd already taken parts of her tips even though she had no way to prove it.

Daphne insisted that she could just come back to the Shrieking Shack. Draco would rehire her in a heartbeat, and it wouldn't be awkward, she swore. Of course Hermione didn't believe her because how could someone return to working for their ex boyfriend? Like she'd be able to look at any part of that club and not see where he'd kissed her, or fucked her, and fuck she couldn't set foot in his office. Not when it was so clear - the image of him fucking her mouth while she laid on his desk.

"Hermione," Pansy tapped on her shoulder, "there's some guy here to see you. He's waiting by the bathrooms. Dolohov says to take your break." The black haired girl collected the large tip on the bar that was meant for Hermione.

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her jumper from under the bar, and made her way to the back of the club. There was no one waiting though. Glancing around, and knocking on both of the bathroom doors, there was no answer from inside. Hermione turned to head back to the front, grumbling under her breath that she'd just lost a tip to Parkinson from the guy that had been trying to win her over all night. Her knitted jumper was halfway over her head when the emergency exit was ripped open from behind her, and a hand latched onto the thin material. A shriek fell from her lips, but it would be barely heard over the loud music.

Stammering, and threatening whoever had grabbed her, Hermione managed to pull her jumper all the way down just as he spine met the cool concrete of the wall outside. Her heart slammed against the inside of her rib cage at the sight of him. "Malfoy?" She breathed.

He looked worse for wear, which lined up with everything Daphne had told her. His hair was disheveled, and she wasn't at all sure what to expect him to say. "Dolohov?" He asked through gritted teeth. "Greengrass told me Riddle called you?"

She rolled her eyes at the mention of Tom Riddle. She wasn't surprised that his name was the first goddamned thing out of his mouth. Hermione snorted. "Yeah, Tom called me." The name rolled off her tongue, and she was just petty enough to smirk when his eyes narrowed. "Considering that my savings are completely gone, I needed a job, Malfoy. I'm sure I would have applied here even if he hadn't called me." She shrugged, shoving her hands into the back pocket of her jeans. "And if you really cared about who I was working for, you would have called me three weeks ago when I started here."

He pinned her to the wall with his own body. "She told me tonight." He growled. "Do you know what kind of person he is, Granger? More than one of his girls has quit because he -"

"Oh, fuck off." Hermione snapped, shoving him backward, away from her. "I'm not interested to hear how much you care, or - just leave, Malfoy."

He didn't move an inch from where he stood. "I think we should talk about this!" He yelled, motioning to the building behind her. "About us, about -"

Hermione snapped. "About us?" She screamed, storming up to him, and standing on her tiptoes. "There is no us, Draco. There hasn't been from the second you honestly believed I would cheat on you. I called you, I tried, and you were the one who wasn't interested in trying!"

His eyes darkened, and even though she was furious, Hermione couldn't bring herself to rip away from him when he grabbed her. "Don't you dare put those words in my mouth when it's been hell without you." His grip on her wrists loosened as he knelt down. "Hermione -"

She shook her head. "No." Hermione shut down the urge to throw herself into his arms, and to just bloody believe him. "Absolutely not. We tried, and it's been over a month, and you only came to find me when you thought I could be in danger."

Draco interrupted her, his jaw clenched, and all she truly wanted to do was reach out and massaged his tensed shoulders. "Dolohov raped one of his girls."

She'd heard the rumor. "I need the money for university, and rent, Malfoy. The point is that you didn't come here because you feel the same way about me. You came here to play the knight in shining armor, and I don't fucking need saving." She shoved him away from her once more, wrenching the emergency door open once more.

But when the door didn't open, she felt that maybe she'd made the right choice. Or maybe it was the second chance that she was supposed to take advantage of.

What she knew for sure was that it was like walking away for the first time, and she hadn't healed at all.

When Cormac called her again, this time not so much for a booty call, it was Valentine's Day. Daphne was out with Theo, and Hermione was curled up on the couch with a textbook on the finer workings of business. He rang to ask if he could come by for some of the things he'd left months ago. Rolling her eyes so hard they threatened to get stuck in the back of her head, Hermione gathered up his belt, and a few shirts he'd left behind.

She was sure it was a ploy to try and get into her knickers. It was why she'd left his things folded outside her door, and a note taped to the door that read Not fucking interested, Cormac. Have a good night. So when two familiar voices drifted up the iron staircase outside, she slammed her textbook shut, her eyes widening.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" While it was muffled, there was no mistaking the voice as Draco's. She scrambled for her shoes, only finding one shoe out of two pairs, and she groaned. Not that she knew what he was yelling at, but if it was anything near her, it couldn't possibly be good.

She couldn't find a pair of shorts to wear with the thin cami either, but how appropriate she looked didn't matter at all when the next sentence rung out. "Listen, Malfoy, I haven't even seen her. I was just here -" it fell silent, but there was a loud groan.

Hermione threw the door open, looking either way down the level of flats, but there was nothing. Hurrying down the stairs, and gripping the railing lest she might fall, she happened across a scene on the lower story. "Did you punch him?" She gasped, taking in the sight of Malfoy standing over Cormac, and Cormac holding his jaw while lying on the ground. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She blurted.

The belt, and shirts - long forgotten at this point - had fallen over the railing at some point. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" Draco echoed. "What the fuck is wrong with you? I came over here with the intention of apologizing to you, of trying to win you back over, and you're fucking this ponce."

Dragging her hands down her face, she marched over to him. "If you'd like to come up to my flat, you'll see that there is a huge note on the door telling him I'm not interested. He really was picking up his shite, Malfoy."

"On Valentine's Day?" He countered, ignoring the other man as he climbed to his feet, and took off down the stairs. "While you're wearing that?" His eyes raked up and down her body.

"Are you doubting me again?" She said, her voice harsh. "If you came here to win me back over as you say -"

He backed her to the railing, his hands skimming her sides, barely brushing against breasts. "What was I supposed to think when I saw him coming down from your flat carrying his clothes?"

She glared. "I'm not doing this." She threw her hands up, and turned away from him. "You should have realized that I'm fucking crazy about you, and that I haven't been, or wanted, anyone else since you accused me of cheating."

Silence. "I regret it more than anything else." He murmured, capturing her by the waist. "I was an idiot, and I couldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again really."

Hermione snorted. "Even when I tell you to stay away, you can't seem to listen. If you have something to say to me, you can tell me inside of my flat. Where I'm not freezing my arse off in a thong, and," she gasped when he pulled her tight against him. Her nipples, stiffened by the biting chill outside, brushed against his chest as he stared down at her. "Or you can say it now." She swallowed. "Now would be great."

Malfoy reached up, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You know I'm in love with you, don't you?" He whispered, kneeling down again to be eye level with her.

She shook her head slowly. "I don't think you ever got the chance to tell me."

"A foolish mistake on my part." He admitted softly. "I'm going to kiss you now, if you're alright with it." Draco told her.

"Wait!" She said too loudly, and his face fell. "Not because - I just - fuck, I love you too." She breathed, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair and yank him to her.

His tongue swept across her bottom lip as he picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. "You don't have to," he tried to tell her they didn't have to do anything, not right this moment.

She shook her head, digging her ankles into the small of his back. "Now, Draco, my bedroom." SHe murmured, biting down on his bottom lip. "It's fucking Valentine's Day, and you've just told me you love me, so,"

He chuckled, the low tone of it making her shiver. "Alright, Hermione. As much as I like you begging," he murmured while carrying her up the stairs, "you don't have to this time." Whimpering as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her arse, she rubbed herself against him. "Fuck, princess." He growled.

Whining when his fingers brushed against her cloth covered cunt, but he wouldn't push her knickers to the side, she was already on the edge of an orgasm before he had even touched her. "Draco," she pressed her lips to his neck, dragging them to the base of his throat as he threw the door of her flat open. "Bedroom." She pleaded with him, pulling back to look at him while still dazed.

"Missed you," he muttered as he hurried down the hallway and into her bedroom. "Quit your shite job with Dolohov." He hissed , dropping her onto her bed. "You don't have to come back, but don't fucking,"

She was already nodding, crawling forward on the bed, and sliding off of it, sitting on her knees in front of him. "You'll get no complaints from me. Dolohov copped a feel of my arse earlier tonight." A slow growl sounded from his throat as she flicked the button of his trousers open. "Though I doubt I'll come back to dance for you."

Anything Draco could have said was lost when she gripped his cock in her hand and guided his cock into her mouth. Swirling her tongue around his length while stroking him, he gathered her hair so he could watch her on her knees. "Fucking Christ, princess." He snarled, nudging her, and a hiss slipped between his teeth when the tip of him hit the back of her throat. "Look how pretty you are like this." He rumbled, guiding her by the tight grip he had on her hair.

She moaned, reaching down to rub her clit through her knickers, edging herself while taking his cock down her throat, and never breaking eye contact. Hermione gasped when he pulled away from her, whining a little though she'd never admit it. "Draco.."

His chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, he nodded toward her bed. "On the bed for me, little girl."

At the words that made cunt clench, Hermione crawled onto the bed, reaching for the hem of her thin cami and she tossed it away from her. It landed over the railing, the nearly sheer fabric hadn't covered much anyway. He was behind her then, hands reaching up to cup her breasts, and he pinched her stiffened nipples. Pressing her arse against his cock, feeling him slip between the cheeks of her arse, she wasn't all that sure how much teasing she could take.

It was a soft, "daddy," that caused him to finally react, pulling her against him while his hands roamed over her taut body.

"McLaggen was staring at your tits when he ran out." He muttered in her ear, pinching the little nub as he rolled it between his fingers. "You didn't leave much to the imagination, did you?"

"I wasn't expecting to have to run out in the middle of the night, Malfoy." She managed to get out when his fingers slid between her legs, and parted her pussy lips. Slowly, too fucking slowly, he rubbed her clit. "Draco." She whimpered, rubbing her arse against his cock. "Please don't tease."

She knew he was smirking without looking. "It's been hell without you." He breathed, two of his fingers sinking into her. "So fucking tight," he murmured, dropping his head to press kisses along her shoulder. "I haven't been with anyone."

"Good," she said, breathless.

Draco pushed her at the small of her back, putting her on all fours. She'd expected to feel him sliding into her at any moment, but no. Not that she was disappointed when he flipped her onto her back instead, and he tore her knickers off of her with his teeth. No, not at all. He put her legs over his shoulders, leaning down to drag his tongue through her slick folds, and dragging her sweet, little sounds from her.

He licked her clit, using small, but sure strokes to bring her to the edge, but then he would back away before starting all over again. "Please." She gasped, her legs tightening around his head when he slowed down for the third time. "Daddy, make me come."

"All you had to do was ask," Draco smirked. Two fingers slid into her, pumping inside of her cunt roughly as he tasted her, swiping his tongue across her clit before nipping it just barely - just enough to send her over the edge like he knew it would.

She screamed his name while she trembled below him, and in between her back arching, and him crawling up to kiss her again, he told her how stunning she was. Covered in a thin layer of sweat while gasping for air, and kissing him desperately. "How do you want me?" Hermione asked, biting at the base of his throat, and sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

Still sitting on his knees, Draco picked her up, his arms sliding under her legs, and he brought her down on his cock. Hermione squealed as she took him greedily, her nails scratching his shoulders as she adjusted to the size of him. "Oh, fuck." He groaned, lifting her and sinking into her once more.

"Daddy," she whispered in his ear, "did you miss me?" She asked him cheekily with a breathy laugh.

She heard him say how he had, but really all of her attention was focused on how he slammed into her, each thrust harder than the last.

Her neighbors were going to kill her.

"You're still my little slut," he growled in her ear, watching her bounce on his cock as he moved to where his back was against the headboard.

"Treat me like it then," Hermione grinned, shrieking when he smacked her arse hard and told her to get on her hands and knees for him then.

Draco didn't waste any time with spanking her, though she craved the stinging sensations when he made her count the swats, some of them landing against her sensitive cunt. He slammed into her, his fingers grasping strands of her hair, and pulling her up, forcing her up to look at him while he fucked her without mercy.

Moaning at the impossible, but delicious way her back arched, Hermione felt herself clenching around him when he reached around her with his other hand. His fingers moved quickly against her clit.

"Fuck," he blurted, slowing. "Are you still -"

She nodded, moving against him, still desperate for the friction. "I am. Come inside me." Hermione murmured. "You can come inside me - fill me full of come if you want."

Hermione came harder than any other time that she could remember when he slid in for the final time, and told her to come with a whisper right beside her ear. Shivering at the guttural groan that left him, she slid against him two more times before he pulled out of her. "Hermione?"

She turned around, tackling him to the pillows, and kissing him softly, lazily even. "I missed you." She whispered, her lips curving when he rubbed her back.

"I was an idiot to have let you go."

She laughed. "I love you." Hermione tested the words out, looking up at him. "I really do, you know? The last few months were the worst, so.." she bit her lip, "would you mind staying the night so I know this is real when I wake up?"

"You can possibly think I'm done with you." Draco murmured.

Two Years Later

Upon quitting her measly bartending job for Antonin Dolohov, Hermione heard he'd been arrested for assaulting a female employee. It'd been the girl who replaced her. The 'coincidence' still bothered her when she thought about it.

Hermione focused on school full time even though she'd been bartending for Draco. Even now she didn't dance, though she'd still do it for him in one of the backrooms of the club, or on the main stage after hours. The tips for making drinks weren't quite as good as working as a striper, but she liked it enough. She'd lived with Daphne until she graduated, and it was at that time in the spring that their lease came up for the second time, and they finally decided to say goodbye to their flat.

There'd been tears as they left the keys on the counter, a moment that was more for the aesthetic of it all because Daphne Greengrass was a dramatic bitch. But it was true that they had lived there, had grown there, and saying goodbye to the two bedroom flat felt a lot like saying goodbye to a home she wouldn't find again.

She had to admit there was more than one type of home when she moved in with Draco. And she begrudgingly admitted her mum had been right when she told her that you could never know someone until you lived with them. Draco did a million things that could annoy her; he left the toilet seat up in the middle of the night - she'd fallen in, but he was prohibited from ever telling a soul -, his clothes never quite made it into the hamper, and he was awful at doing the dishes - even with a dishwasher.

Yet for each thing that was irritating, and she knew it was sappy, there was another one that just made her love him all the more.

Against what she told him, he'd paid off her student loans in one lump sum from the second the club was pulling in what it was meant to. And then he offered her a job, but it wasn't just to be his bartender. Draco asked her if she'd head the business side of things, crunching numbers, making sure he wasn't being robbed again. She snorted at that.

It was how she ended up here, behind his desk because her own office was still being renovated, and why she was grumbling a computer screen. The security door opened - the code was now zero, two, one, four, - to show exactly when they had gotten back together two years ago. No one could say he wasn't romantic, at least with her.

"What is it, Malfoy?" She called, not looking away from the screen, and a string of numbers that wasn't making sense. How could they be over in the till? "Surely there must be a simple reason," she muttered, "do you know if Angelina took the deposit - why are you looking at me like that?" Her eyes narrowed at the way he was hiding something behind his back.

"She forgot; that's why the money is off. Don't freak out, Malfoy." Draco said, laughing, and peering at the computer screen.

Hermione rolled her eyes, looking away from him for a moment before she spun in the chair, her eyes wide. There was a grin planted on his face. "What did you just say to me?" She stumbled over the words, having to restart her sentence three times.

"Hmm?" He mused, barely suppressing a laugh.

"What did you just call me?"

"I called you by your name."

She knew it was coming, she'd known for at least six weeks from the moment she found the ring in one of their dresser drawers, and nearly every time he'd been about to bring it up, something had happened. Emergency flooding at the club, or Theo needed to be bailed out - yes, literally. It was always something. "I'm sorry, I don't think you did." She murmured, her hands flying to her mouth when he knelt down in front of her.

"I have been trying, and failing," there was a squeal from the doorway, and she looked up to see Daphne grinning at them both. Draco just shook his head. "To ask you this for weeks -"

Hermione nodded, her eyes already watering and he hadn't even opened the box. "Yes."

He snorted, and she realized that this wasn't how he wanted it, but even so she giggled. "Hermione, I only get to this once, so just let me ask the bloody question, would you?" A nod. "Will you marry me?"

She lunged out of the chair, tackling him and kissing him. "Get out!" She yelled, and the heavy door swung shut. "Yes, I'd love to marry you."

Draco flipped the box open, pulling the ring from it, and sliding it onto her finger. "You hadn't even seen the ring yet."

"Like that would have mattered to me, but this is..this is a massive rock." She laughed, nuzzling his neck.

"I had a whole speech planned, you know, but then I looked at you, and," he whispered, though no one could hear them on the other side of the door, "I forget everything else around you. It was all I could think that I wanted to marry you."

Winding her arms around his neck, she rolled to where he was hovering over her. "Love you," she whimpered when he pressed himself against her.