Dramione oneshots

Ministry Christmas Party

"You know... this is... probably... some sort... of breach... of professional ethics," Hermione said, her breath hitching between the words, and rising significantly on the final syllable.

Draco looked up at her from his vantage point between her thighs. His thumbs traced lazy circles on the sensitive flesh of her inner legs. "Do you want me to stop?"

Hermione didn't even consider the possibility. "Absolutely not. Just making a note, for future reference, that I was aware."

Her hand threaded through Draco's silvery hair, which was already considerably mussed, and urged him back to his task. With a grin, Draco bent to his ministrations once more, his tongue darting forward to tease at her again, licking and suckling at Hermione until her head tipped back and she let out a sharp cry of release.

"Thank goodness for silencing charms, eh?" he murmured, as he rose up to claim her mouth. Hermione's mouth fell open under his, eagerly tasting her own musk on his lips.

Hermione hadn't expected Draco to be quite so sexy, if she was being honest. In front of the Wizengamot, Draco was buttoned up and the picture of all things proper. As was she. But this side of him, greased along by the open bar at the Ministry holiday party, was a most pleasant surprise.

It was possible the eggnog was getting to her, as well. Or possibly it was just several years of tension building as they faced off, again and again, on cases, taking turns winning and losing. Maybe a bit more winning on her part... In any event. Something had cracked wide between them tonight, which was why she'd found herself away from the party, sitting on her desk in the Public Prosecutions office, her knickers a solid two feet across the room, draped inelegantly over a potted plant. As it turned out, Draco was an excellent kisser, and even better at getting her off with his mouth. Hermione's insatiable curiosity had her impatient to discover what else he was good at.

Her hands fumbled at his belt, clumsily unfastening his trousers and unzipping his fly. It was only difficult because his fingers were slipping inside of her, and she was already so aroused and so turned on that she was already teetering on the precipice of orgasm once more. She managed to free Draco from his boxer briefs, pleased to discover that his cock was rock hard and weighty in her hand; she wrapped her hand around him, her thumb gliding over the silky skin.

Draco groaned and pulled his fingers from her, knocking her hand out of the way so he could drive forward, thrusting into her all at once. Hermione hissed as she felt him, skin to skin, seated deep within her.

"Yes, yes, please," she said. It was all she could manage.

Two Months Later

Hermione's head was pounding. She'd woken up feeling less than spectacular, but there was no way she could beg off work today. Not with trial two days away. She'd downed some headache relief potion, and was hoping- nay, praying- it would kick in.

A knock at the door echoed inside of her skull. She suppressed a snarl, and called out, "Come in."

"Discovery for you," said a voice, posh and clipped. Hermione looked up from the file she was poring over.

Draco Malfoy. She tilted her head to look at him, surprised. "You could have messengered that over. It's not pressing. Gerhardt Bulstrode's hearing isn't for another..." She looked back down, running her finger along her desk calendar. "Three and a half weeks. I've actually got a non-Dark-Arts-related case coming up first."

She offered a wry smile. They were always on opposite sides of these cases. The Ministry was still being very hard on anyone caught with Dark artifacts, and it was slow going through the rolls of the so-called Sacred Twenty Eight and their very extended families. It kept Hermione busy, though. She prosecuted them. Draco defended them. They were comfortable with one another in the way that prosecutors and barristers for the defense who often found themselves in the same courtroom tended to be.