the erised effect

dirty, like me

Hermione twiddled her thumbs and bit her lip. Anything to stop her heartbeat rising – if he could see her awkwardness then she knew he would wonder if she was thinking that this was right thing to do or not. And she couldn't have him thinking that, because it was absolutely the thing she had wanted to do.

She hadn't expected the Owl that arrived at work yesterday morning. The regal looking animal with a letter in its beak. A letter inviting her for a coffee this afternoon... with Draco Malfoy.

He had wanted to see her. He hadn't mentioned that it was a date, but what else would them meeting in a coffee shop without the others and spending time alone together mean? Add that to the way his eyes were currently devouring her from across the table, and –

"Is biting your lip a habit?" he asked quietly as he held his coffee cup to his lips. "Or are you trying to openly seduce me in public?" he took a sip, keeping his eyes on her hungrily. "Because I can assure you, it's working..."

Hermione's eyes went wide and when she did finally look up at him, she saw the look on his face. Primal now, compared to the way he had greeted her half an hour ago when she had first walked into the shop to meet him...

Warm eyes and a smile awaited her as she walked towards the table and he stood to greet her quite awkwardly, unsure as to whether to pull her chair out for her. She smiled shyly at him before moving to her seat, unbuttoning her coat as he called the waitress over to take their orders.

Two flat whites.

How did he know? She had only ever drank alcohol or tea around him. Hermione gave him a curious look which he spotted, and he put his head down a little, but Hermione still managed to

 

spot the pink tinge to his cheeks.

"I remember hearing you tell Potter in school about how you prefer a flat white as it's milder..." he admitted, and the pang in Hermione's chest shoot through her. "Turns out, you were right." He told her with a small smile. "I've drank it myself ever since."

"Impeccable taste, then." She told him with a smile as the waitress came back with their coffees.

"Clearly..." he told her, his eyes raking down her frame for a few seconds. It was long enough for the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. Long enough for her to catch the cheeky little smirk that he threw her way.

"Draco..." she warned, bringing the coffee mug to her lips.

"I'm not even sorry." He told her unapologetically, that smirk still there. "All I've thought about since Friday is getting back between your thighs."

She clenched said thighs together and tried to steady her breathing. The things he said to her and the way he said them ... he never failed to get the right reaction from her body.

"All I've thought about since Fourth year is getting between them at all, to be honest..." Oh... oh, he was good. Sitting there in his grey waistcoat, tie and matching pants with his white oxford shirt. He looked every inch the Devil's advocate. Every inch the type of sin she needed. "...It's been a long time coming for me, Hermione." He told her in a very low voice, his grey eyes boring into her.

Hermione took in a breath and tried to shake off the tension that was clinging to the air around them. "I was hardly anything to write home about in school." She put out casually with a smile and a shake of her head. "All hair and teeth and ink-blots."

Draco raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at her. "Oh you were at the top of a few lists, believe me." He said with a chuckle as she frowned at him in confusion.

"Lists?" she asked him. He shook his head, muttering something about Blaise and telling her another time.

"Are you looking forward to Friday?" he asked her, changing the subject. She knew what he meant by this question.