requirement | dramione

0.08

october 17, 1996

Without a second of hesitation, Draco's soft lips met Hermione's.

Hermione's heart had been beating so fast, she could have sworn she was near hyperventilating the entire time he held her hand, leading her into an empty classroom that she'd never been in and never thought she'd be going into. Not for this reason. Not to be kissing Draco Malfoy. 

It was both exactly what she'd expected from the moment he took her hand– exactly what she'd pictured in her head so many times, and the utmost opposite of what she'd even through they'd be doing. 

His hands were on her hips, then her waist, then one was against her chin, tilting her head up for him. Lush lips met hers again, even though she couldn't seem to catch her breath. His kiss was full and heavy and their lips seemed to sit perfectly in the other's. 

Draco pulled away from her. She made a small sound ask she sucked in a breath, almost a gasp, and stepped so that her body pressed against his. He grasped her shoulders, gently, and guided her backwards until her back met the stone wall behind her. 

Draco took in the sight of her. Her cheeks were pink and curls were falling out of her once tidy updo. Her pupils were dilated and her eyes were wide with curiosity and desire. Their breath mingled together and, already feeling flustered, Draco inhaled deeply.

There was that smell.

Images of mugs filled with chamomile tea, old books, and honeysuckle bubbles filled Draco's senses. There was that same smell. It was Hermione's smell. The scents were soft and tender, just as they had been in the Amortenia. She was sweet and calming, mixed with fresh fruit and fragrant parchment. He had half the urge to uncork his vial of Amortentia right then and drink it as she watched, even though it was too small of a dose to have any lasting effects. 

Then his mouth fastened against hers as if he was claiming her. Draco's right hand slipped away from Hermione's, where he had pinned it against the wall, and cascaded down her arm. His fingertips trickled down her raised forearm and dragged up her neck, finally resting against her throat.

Hermione gushed at the feeling, arching her back. Her desire ached for him and their hips pressed together. His tongue slipped into her mouth and butterflies filled every inch of her stomach. Draco returned her force, but stronger now, and pushed her back to the wall. His wide, strong hips held her there. Long, elegant fingers curled around her throat with so much power, but he held back. She could feel a cool metal ring press into her skin and, without realizing the filth of her thoughts, wanted to feel that ring inside of her.

Hermione's mind wandered to places it had never before as Draco's lips continued their attack on her mouth, neck, and ear. She stood as still as she could manage, but felt like her knees would give out any second now. A broken sound came out of her throat and she could feel Draco's lips turning into a grin against her skin.

"Fuck me..." Draco groaned against her. 

Hermione melted at the sound of his voice, so thick with desire. It was delicious. He tucked his other hand beneath her chin, releasing the arm that he had trapped above her head. "I want to fuck you," He told her, dragging his thumb over her reddening bottom lip. "Tell me you don't want me."

"What?" She faltered, caught off guard by every aspect of their encounter. 

"Tell me you don't want me to fuck you, Gryffindor. Tell me that I've made this desire up in my head and we're being ridiculous." His ice gray eyes were staring into hers, unrelentingly. 

"I've been picturing you fucking me for weeks...." She told him like it was a sin and her voice trailed off as if she was confessing to a crime.

It was. Fuck, it was.