“I need you to have sex with me.”
Draco stared at her, sure he had misheard. “Pardon?”
Hermione looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath. “I have it on good— I have heard— oh bloody hell,” she muttered. “I’m bad in bed. I need practice.”
His lungs had entirely stopped working. “Practice,” he repeated dully.
“Yes, practice.”
“At sex.”
“At sex.”
“And you came to me why?”
“Because what else are we going to do here this month?”
Status | Words | Chapters |
Completed | 35,965 + 3,249 + 1826 | 14 + 1 + 1 |
BONUS ONESHOT
Starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights
It must have been the compulsora.
That was the only explanation.
Sure, they had taken precautions. The vial had never been touched. The windows in the pink bedroom stayed open no matter what, and they were careful not to even bump the desk the vials rested on. Chances of contamination were slim to none, but Hermione could think of no other reason for her temporary loss of control.
Okay so maybe she hadn’t even gone into the pink bedroom that day, but still. It was definitely the compulsora.
Because Hermione had never even considered doing something like this before. She was not someone who would knock off work even an hour or two early for happy hour, much less be the one to suggest leaving when it was barely lunch time.
To fuck.
(deleted scene from call it what you want: chapter six. Chronologically falls between chapters five and six, if you're being pedantic.)
BONUS ONESHOT
Loves me like I'm brand new
Hermione stepped closer, hand coming to rest just above his heart, and his chest loosened. Draco slipped his hands around her waist and tugged her against him, brushing their noses together. “Did you want a tour?” she murmured, looking up at him through her eyelashes.
“Pretty sure I can see all of it from right here,” he replied, catching her lips with his. It was a lazy kiss, the urgency of earlier melting away.
“You can’t see the bedroom,” Granger countered, mouth finding that spot just below his ear that made his vision go white.
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