Iniquity

Part XII

December 6th, 2000

Draco smirks as he watches her help a customer, the soft skin of her neck hidden by the high collar top she opted for. With the Christmas season slowly approaching, the weather was changing, the air dropping in temperature, but he knew that was not why she was wearing a turtleneck.

"Mr. Malfoy, can you ring these two up? I'm going to set up some scheduling with Mayjoy," she says, gesturing to the two witches behind her as she places their chosen books on to the counter top.

"Of course," he replies, giving her a slight wink. "Lovely top you've got there, Granger. A bit high on the neckline, wouldn't you say?"

Hermione's cheeks grow a pale shade of pink as she rolls her eyes, turning away before she takes the stairs to Mayjoys office two at a time. When she comes back down, her hair is loser, curls falling from their rightful place atop her head down her back and shoulders, and her arms are full of binders.

"Right well, here's the scheduling for the next few months," she huffs, placing the binders down. "A week before Christmas, Xenophilius Lovegood is going to do a storybook hour, reading 'The Nutcracker.'" Draco gives her a blank expression, and she shakes her head. "It's a Muggle story. I'm sure the children of Wizarding folk will love it, too."

He begins to remove money from the register and count as Granger rattles on, listing dates and times for events the shop would host.

"Maybe we can do a little something for Valentine's Day? Like pink bookmarks or something," she suggests, leaning over one of the binders.

With no wizards or witches in sight, Draco reaches from his side of the counter to grasp her neck, pulling her face forward and dragging her lips to meet him in the middle. With a surprised gasp, she pushes forward, dipping her tongue into his mouth and colliding it with his own.

"You make me wish I had said no to plans with Ginny," Granger sighs when he pulls away, and he raises a brow at her mischievously.

He stacks the money neatly on the counter, making sure they're all in the correct order, and drags his lower lip in between his teeth. "I suppose I can share you," he replies, and they grin at one another.

With the counting done, Hermione flips the sign to close, and they clean the shop as Mayjoy exits his office, padding roughly down the stairs with a large cardboard box in his arms.

"Malfoy, be a dear and put this in the back?" Mayjoy asks, and Draco takes the box from him. The older man swears, snapping his fingers in frustration. "Forgot my wand. I'll be down in a moment."

Draco takes the box to the back of the shop, placing it against the wall of the restroom with a light push. He can sense her before he feels her, her nimble hands encircling his waist as she pulls herself flush against him.

"He'll be up there for a good fifteen minutes before he can find his wand again," she whispers into his back, and Draco spins around so that they are chest to chest.

"Shall we make some use of that time, then?" he muses, catching her jaw with his right hand, and she nods feverishly.

Grabbing his tie, she pulls his head down, their mouths colliding as Draco back peddles, steering them in the bathroom all the while not breaking their kiss. Grasping her hips, he lifts her atop the sink, kneading his hands on her skin as he steps between her thighs. She palms him through his work trousers, her touch hot and scorching as he licks down her neck, pulling up her shirt to reveal her breasts. Greedily, he presses open mouthed kisses to her skin and she lets out a low moan. Draco snaps his hand against her mouth, dragging his face from the wonderful softness that is her skin so he can look at her face.

"Shhh," he mummers, feeling her panting against his hand. "We must not alert any unwanted attention, right?" He grinds himself into her, and she tightens her legs around his waist. "Before I remove my hand, can you swear you'll be nice and quiet?" She nods wildly, her curls sticking to her damp forehead. He removes his hand. "Say it."

"I'll be quiet," she promises.

He narrows his eyes. "Is that what I said, Granger?" he replies, dipping his hand to stroke her above her panties.

"I'll be nice and quiet," she corrects herself, and he pulls her panties aside, pressing his finger to her precious bundle of nerves. She bucks, and he rubs a slow, torturous pattern. "Draco, he'll be down soon," she pants.

He nods, dragging his trousers down. Stepping back, he aligns himself, and grabs the bottom of her jaw in his hand, the other hand placed against her back. "I won't be gentle."

"I never asked you to be."

-

When Draco opens the door to his flat the next morning before work, the last thing he expects to find is a silver container, slightly warm to the touch. Lifting the lid, he sniffs, the smell of warm coffee filling his face. A tag hangs from the neck, and he flips it over, grinning as he reads

Meet me at Hogs Head tonight, seven o-clock. Don't you dare be late.
- H

With a chuckle, he takes a sip, surprised at the slightly bitter taste, then secures the lid. Swishing the container around as he walks, Draco slows to a stop, pulling at his neck collar. When did it suddenly become so hot out? He can feel the nape of his neck pooling with sweat, and he reaches up to pull at his collar again. His fingers miss as he tries once more, swaying slightly. Yanking the top button of his dress shirt loose, he sniffles, suddenly yearning for some more to drink. Unscrewing the cap, he downs the rest of its contents, practically scalding his tongue. Blinking rapidly, Draco shakes his head in an attempt to clear it, looking at his surroundings in confusion. He was just going somewhere, wasn't he? Work. Yes, he was going to work and then he was to have dinner with...someone.

Draco shakes his head, pressing his palm to his eyes.

Hermione. Yes, he was supposed to have dinner with Hermione. Yet for some reason, as he pushes open the door to his employment, a sleek bob keeps appearing in his mind's eye.