Draco's Birthday... At Lunch

Draco was roused by the distinctive knock of his Head of House on the door. He didn't move to answer it, but made sure that Hermione was covered from chin to toe by the sheet they were under. As he worked to conceal her body, he heard Professor Snape's boots clicking on the floor as he came towards them. Turning to look at Professor Snape, Draco was shocked to find folding screens surrounding them on all sides. He heaved a sigh of relief: their privacy was protected, at least marginally.

"Mister Malfoy?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Do you happen to know the whereabouts of Miss Granger? Neither of you attended your morning classes."

Draco hated the smug tone as it passed through the screen, the professor's silhouette hiding the crooked smile Draco knew would be present. "Yes, sir. She is here with me."

"Very good. The Headmaster asked that I inform you that you have been excused from your classes for today, but that your presence would be appreciated in the Great Hall for lunch, followed immediately by a meeting with the Headmaster."

"Yes, sir."

"Lunch begins in thirty minutes. Good morning."

Draco listened as the professor retired from the room before turning back toward Hermione. He looked down at her and memorised the way her hair fanned out. He wished the sheet away and smiled. As she was laying on her left side he could see her new mark on her neck. Also, in her sleep, she had pressed closer to him for warmth when the sheet disappeared.

Her body was warm and soft next to his, and he curled up against her. He was in heaven. A strange peace settled over him; he didn't have the nagging anxiety he'd felt for the last year. He remembered last year's birthday, being secreted away from school, completely unaware of what was about to occur. Then the change, followed by his return to school, confused and disoriented. He'd done passably well on the O.W.L.s, but not as well as he would have liked. He'd have to prove himself next year at the N.E.W.T.s.

Hermione twisted in his arms, turning to embrace him. Her breasts pressed against his chest; her thigh crossed over his, dangerously close to his now very alert prick. Her cheek brushed back and forth near his shoulder before she settled with a contented sigh.

Draco realised how lucky he was. Having Hermione to shag and to study with was his greatest fortune of all. He knew deep in his heart that even if he weren't already one of the richest wizards in Britain, he could quickly and easily build a life with Hermione that would be enviable. He pressed his hand down her back, his mind on the N.E.W.T.s and their future.

Her breathing changed the instant his fingers grazed the mark on her hip. She was awake and trembling under his touch. He could smell her wetness, and it made him hard. She looked up at him, and they stared at each other a moment. Both were clearly shocked by the suddenness of their intense arousal.

Swallowing, Draco tried to play it off. "We don't have to..."

But she was already climbing on top of him, and before he could finish his thought, she was sliding her tight quim over his prick, moaning in delighted pain. Once he was all the way in her, she opened her eyes and looked down at him.

Looking up at her, Draco thought she looked like Aphrodite herself, hair a rumpled mess, eyes flashing with desire, her lips flushed and open. He was unable to keep his hips from rolling up into her, but he gritted his teeth and asked, "You aren't sore?"

She nodded, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Yet, her hips rolled down into his, and she began taking her pleasure from him. She leaned forward a little to brace her hands on his chest, mindless of how it made her tits press together, and used his prick to get off. Each thrust she made down pushed a wave of heat through Draco's body, and all he could think of was getting shagged by her.

He pulled his arms away from their bodies, his elbows bent so he could put his palms flat on the blue satin below him. He didn't want to interfere with this in the least.

"Don't stop. Please, don't stop," he whispered, his eyes wide as he watched her.

She opened her mouth a little wider, as if to respond, but the only thing that came out was a lazy moan, quite the contrast to her increasingly frantic movements. Hermione sat up and palmed her breasts, squeezing them as she bounced on Draco's prick. It was her undoing. She arched back, shaking as her orgasm ripped through her.

Coming down, she looked at him and blushed completely red.

Her head dropped, and she swallowed. That poor lower lip once again being subjected to the wrath of her teeth. Draco didn't want that, as sweet as she was being. Still seeking his own release, he pushed up into her. She moaned for him, and his hands returned to her body. They were firm and fast, working to possess every inch of her, but they never went near her marks.

Draco wanted to shag her, but he wanted it to be just between them, and not the venom. Sliding his hands up her ribs, he pulled her down, feeling her slide up as their lips met. He kissed her, licking and sucking her lips until she demanded more by sucking his tongue into her mouth. He rolled them over and kept at her, bowing his body so he could press into her perfect quim while they kissed.

When he pulled away she was panting, her eyes closed and her hands teasing at his sides. Draco knelt between her legs, pulling her arse up his thighs. She was still so, so tight around him, but she didn't seem to care.

"You like it when we fuck, Hermione?" Draco asked as he push his hands over her belly to her breasts. He squeezed. She moaned. "Would I make your knickers wet even if you weren't mine?"

Hermione smiled, looking at his perfect skin and his broad shoulders. "Yes!"

"Because I would fuck you, with your thighs, your arse, and your tight quim." Draco moved his hands to grip her thighs and began pounding into her. Every push deep into her sounded with her moans, and Draco was muttering about her tits, and her hair, and her perfect little mouth.

Once again, his orgasm came against his will. What did she do to him that he couldn't control himself? Holding her thighs against his belly, he spilled inside of her. It seemed to last forever, as if his whole existence was rushing into hers. Soon enough though, he could hear his own panting breath and feel the sticky sweat pooling where their bodies met.

Separating them, Draco slid to lay next to her. She was sated and smiling. She moved to curl around him, and he saw that she intended to go back to sleep.

"We must appear at lunch."

Hermione scowled at him. "But we just..."

"And then we must meet with the Headmaster."

She practically huffed.

Apparently she wasn't interested in rejoining the world. Neither was he, but there were arrangements to make. He smiled down at her and silently asked the room for a bathtub full of water. It appeared on the other side of the room, and the smell of bath salts and raspberry-scented oil filled the room. He knelt beside her, smiling. "Bath time." Then he scooped her up and carried her to the tub.

On the way she wrapped her arms around his neck, clearly enjoying the proceedings.

When Draco arrived at the tub, he climbed into it, careful not to lose balance. Once they were in the tub, it expanded, growing wide enough for both of them. Draco dropped Hermione's legs and they sunk into the water.

He watched her body, loose as it already was, melt into the water. She moved to the end of the tub, but was unable to keep against the side. Draco took hold of her feet and propped them on his knees so she could brace herself. Once she was settled, he kept his hands on her feet, his face blank, his eyes possessive.

"How often do you wash your hair?" he asked as a flannel dropped from above them. He took it up and began to press it all over her.

"Once a week, although the venom somehow manages to make me look good without even trying, no matter what I do," Hermione replied, trying to be as placid as he was but having less success. She even closed her eyes, laying her head back and letting him do whatever he wanted.

He was rubbing the flannel between her toes and letting it tickle her. Then he switched sides. He would inch his way up her legs, switching regularly. By the time he'd made it up her thighs, she was so relaxed that she didn't notice when he spelled her still in the tub so that he could move between her legs.

Draco smiled as he pressed the flannel gently over her quim, raising an eyebrow when one of her eyes open. She just closed it back up, though, and he washed her quick but thorough, never letting the flannel rub her harshly.

When he was done, he resumed his place at the other end of the tub, even putting her feet back on his knees. He did, however, spell the water so that her side remained smooth and calm, just as she was, while his side splashed as he moved about. He also silently requested that it smell not of berries but of eucalyptus. He'd never live it down if he sat at lunch smelling like a girl.

Finishing his quick scrub, he paused to look at Hermione as she dozed. Her breasts peeked above the surface of the water; her knees did too. Draco climbed out of the tub, and towelled off. Then, he watch the water drain; where to, he had no idea. By the time Hermione's bum pressed against the bottom of the tub, she'd woken up again. Her body was pink from the water, and he couldn't stop looking her over.

Of her own volition, she stood and stepped into the spread towel. His hands automatically worked in drying her off. He'd forgotten to avoid her marks, lost in his own lack of thought, distracted by his task.

Hermione pulled him to her, kissing his bare chest.

"No, no, no." Draco chuckled, restraining her body with the towel, although her hands were free to roam. He held her at arms length, unable to hide his mirth at her frustration.

"I want you." Hermione looked at him, her chin dropping coyly. When had she turned into this? Not that he was complaining. She was adorable.

"Lunch. Headmaster," he replied, teasing with simple words.

"Sod lunch, you touched my marks." Hermione began caressing her body through the towel.

It was very seductive, although Draco couldn't quite pin down why. Acquiring his wand, he cast Impervius on her neck mark, just on a hunch. Then he touched it. Her reaction was perfectly normal, no flare of lust in her eyes.

She pulled a face. "I don't like that at all." Hermione quickly became distracted by the lack of sensation.

"Well, it's better than you mounting me in the Great Hall." Draco used her distraction to cast the spell on her hip.

"I don't know about that," she muttered, curiously touching her marks.

Her words fuelled the lust that Draco had been denying, but he knew that lunch had already started, and they really couldn't go another round. Draco touched her belly, casting the same spell from earlier.

"What is that?" she whispered, breathing in as her body shivered.

"Contraceptive. Should help with soreness too." Draco couldn't pull his eyes or hand away from her belly. His heirs would come from there one day. It was a heady realisation. He shook his head. "Clothes."

They dressed, their clothes in separated piles since their play had been fairly stationary. Hermione was tying her tie when Draco finished with his shoes.

"I want to see it...the mark. I hate your tie. I want to rip it from your body. Your shirt, too." Draco stepped away as the words fell from his mouth. Gods, he still had a crazy beast inside of him.

"It's just a few more days, and then school's out," Hermione replied compassionately. "I don't like the Impervius either. It feels horrible knowing you are touching me, and not getting the..." She swallowed.

Draco nodded and then moved to finish her tie for her. He was trying to keep panic out of his voice. "Can I put your hair up? If I could see your neck, know that I can just pull on your collar and I'd have it back?"

Hermione nodded, excited by the suggestion. A brush and hair band appeared, and Draco made quick work of twisting her hair around until it was in a ponytail at the back of her head. He relished every second his hands moved through her hair, drawing her closer when he finished.

"When we are done with the Headmaster, I am going to lick your marks until you scream."

Hermione shivered, her head bobbing softly.

Draco reached down and grabbed her hand, tugging her toward the door. In a rush to get back to more pleasant pursuits, they hurried to the Great Hall.

The smells coming from the Great Hall set their bellies rumbling. Last night's dinner had been more than spent in the last few hours. They looked at each other as they pushed through the crowd.

No one seemed to notice them as they moved, joined at the hands. When they got to the hall, Draco turned toward the Slytherin table, and Hermione to Gryffindor, neither realising the new paths until their hands pulled them back together, Hermione having to step forward because Draco's force was greater.

They stood in the doorway, other students beginning to notice while others just rushed by. Draco looked at the Gryffindor table, and then his own table, and then at her. He had no idea what to do.

Hermione looked at her table, where her friends were already tucking in and smiled. Then she began walking toward the Slytherin table. She stopped when Draco tugged her back to where they were standing.

"We can say hello to your friends first."

His reward was a brilliant smile and the obvious desire to kiss him flashing across her face. He made a note to try to do more thoughtful things in the future.

By now, about half the student body had noticed them, and the usual raucous din was turning to a murmur. Draco let her guide them down the row with their fingers still entwined. The hall seemed to get quieter with every step he took, but she was on a mission.

She stopped next to Potter and the Weaslette; Weasel and Longbottom and the others were sitting on the other side.

He was looking at them as they looked at him, and Draco fought to keep his usual sneer at bay. This became very difficult when her hand let go of his, and he looked to find her giving the Weaslette a tight hug. When it was done, she took his hand back, and he felt safe again.

"So, it's real then?" Potter asked, looking dead at him. Apparently, he'd been hoping that it was all a mistake; Draco could tell by the resigned town of his voice.

"Quite," Hermione looked back at him and nodded. There was a strange expression on her face.

"You'll tell us if there's ever a problem." Potter's tone turned threatening.

Draco smirked. Potter clearly didn't know about Veelas. Once they were bonded, nothing would cause him to hurt his mate. Draco stepped up and put his hand on Hermione's back. He considered cancelling the spells on her marks, but kept them going. Their debut was no place for a scene.

Hermione touched Potter's shoulder and nodded. Draco saw her squeeze it before she turned back to him, the smile growing as she looked at him. "I'm famished."

He fought the reflex to just reach over to the food on the table and present it to her. Instead, he nodded and guided her over to the Slytherin table. Blaise and Vince were making room for them. As they got closer, Draco felt Hermione tense under his hand, her back going straight as a rod and her chin rising. She was dining with her enemies, and he could appreciate her preemptive move.

Somehow in the two dozen feet between the Gryffindor table, she'd also managed to seize his free hand in hers. Draco felt almost as though he were a dancer executing a graceful move.

The hall was dead quiet as he helped Hermione over the bench to sit next to Blaise, who had attempted to stand. As Draco set their bags under the bench, he noticed that Vince also stood. Draco climbed over the bench, and the four of them sank down nearly in unison.

Hermione spread her napkin over her lap and smiled as Draco filled her goblet with water. Blaise passed her a roll as he asked, "Veg, Granger?"

"Please, Zabini." Hermione nodded, reaching for a nearby bowl of potatoes.

Draco was relieved that Hermione picked up on the subtle clue...no one in Slytherin called anyone else by their first name.

She ate efficiently, listening to the subdued conversation but not bothering to contribute. She was a stranger and unwanted by most of the students there. To their right, in fact, Draco could see the seventh-year witches, all primped to perfection, were advancing on them from the other end of the table.

The leader of the witches tapped Hermione rudely on the shoulder with her wand. Draco wanted to rip her limb from limb, but Hermione's nails digging into his thigh stopped him. He put a bite of food into his mouth and chewed very deliberately.

Hermione, meanwhile, ignored the witch. It caused the whole of the student body to inhale, it seemed. It was like waiting for a cauldron to blow.

"Granger," the other witch spoke loudly, her saccharine sweet voice carried through the Great Hall.

Hermione set her knife and fork on her plate, wiped her mouth, and then turned to look at the witch. "Ellsworth."

"The Gryffindor table is over there."

Hermione turned to look. Her friends waved at her, and she smiled. "So it is."

"That's where Gryffindors sit to eat their meals." The tone of the words dripped with disgust.

Hermione nodded. "Typically."

Ellsworth was having trouble containing her temper. "Not just typically; it's a rule."

"No, it's not."

"It's in the rulebook."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out the rulebook. Blaise choked on the drink of pumpkin juice he'd just taken. Draco smiled; of course, she had the rulebook in her bag.

She quickly opened to the correct page and read, "Meals are taken in the Great Hall, where tables are arranged by house."

Ellsworth smiled victoriously.

Hermione smiled as well. "It doesn't say that we are required to eat with our house."

"That is implied." Ellsworth looked murderous.

"There is no prohibition on eating elsewhere," Hermione said simply.

The two witches stared at each other for a long moment before Hermione moved to turn back to her lunch. Ellsworth grabbed her shoulder. Hermione looked at her hand and then up at her face.

"There is, however, a prohibition that says no student may harass another student, especially one who is younger than she is."

Ellsworth immediately pulled her hand off Hermione's shoulder. Conceding defeat, Ellsworth and the others turned and stormed out of the Great Hall.

Hermione turned back to her plate and tried to keep the smug victory off her face. She went back to eating quietly and efficiently, until Draco reached across her, using his body position to whisper into her ear, "Finite Incantantum."

Hermione swallowed. He watched as the sensations coursing through her marks took her breath away. She stole a glance at him, and he was smiling at his plate. On his other side, Vince asked, "Wasn't that informative?"

Draco nodded his head, agreeing. "Very informative. Eat up, Granger." Hermione nodded from behind her goblet, the icy water cooling her off but not nearly enough.

After they left lunch, Draco took the first opportunity to press Hermione into an alcove. It had taken twelve seconds, which was about eleven seconds too long for him. Hermione had, however, worked her tie loose and undone her top button in those brief moments, and Draco found her marks by instinct. His mouth was on her shoulder, and his hand was up her skirt.

"Bloody brilliant!" he praised before taking one deep breath and reattaching his lips to her.

He was sucking and licking her, pressing the tips of his fingers into her hip as he squeezed rhythmically. Draco felt wonderful and out of control, and his pheromones poured out from him.

She was moaning, pleading incoherently for a quick fuck in the corner. It wasn't such a bad idea, but the headmaster was waiting. He nipped at her mark until she came, careless of the noise she was making.

When he pulled away from her, they were surrounded by the white shell of magic their union always brought on. Draco held her trembling body close, breathing in her release.

The seconds ticked by, and eventually they pulled apart. Hermione cast the spells on herself this time, acknowledging that they were needed if she was going to have her wits about her in the headmaster's office. She did it wordlessly, and Draco quirked his eyebrow at her before attending to his erection. It had to be tucked carefully in his waistband.

"It's how I got through after the Yule Ball: full-body Impervius and a strong Notice-Me-Not spell."

He nodded slowly, realisation dawning on him. All those months! She hadn't been losing her appeal with the others, she'd magicked it away. He looked at her as though seeing her for the first time. He'd never be worthy of her, but he was resolved to do his damnedest and try.

Draco pulled her body against his, giving her a searing kiss, pouring all of his passion into it. He held her arms by her sides, wanting her helpless for just this moment so he could give her everything that he was feeling in this one kiss.

When he was done, he set her down and released her. She wobbled a little, and he helped steady her. Hermione moved her fingers to her lips, staring dumbly into space. Draco prowled around her, moving to press his chest against her back. He fisted the bulk of her ponytail and turned her ear toward his lips. He heard her swallow.

"I'm going to learn how to make you come without even looking at my marks, witch. I'm going to worship you, give you everything you need and everything you want, and I am going to start the minute we are finished with this bloody meeting with the headmaster." He nearly devoured her ear, pulling her arse against his hard prick when she lost balance again. She moaned, her body opening to every place he touched. Draco pulled back, helped her to be steady on her feet, and then pushed her to walk ahead of him.

Hermione turned back and took his hand, and together they walked to the stairs behind the gargoyle statue.