The Unofficial Diary of an Omega

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/15236466.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Character: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood,
Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley
Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bond,
Possessive Behavior, Porn With Plot, Wizarding Tinder, Knotting
Language: English
Collections: Dramione A/B/O Fics, TDH Harry Potter EU, Dramione's , A/O/B , fuel
for dramione obsession, Need_to_read_dramione, top tier dramione
Stats: Published: 2018-07-10 Completed: 2018-10-08 Words: 28,128
Chapters: 9/9

The Unofficial Diary of an Omega

by mrsren

Summary

Hermione is certain this heat cycle will be the same as always. Except Luna Lovegood,
close friend and fellow Omega takes it upon herself to create a service that matches Omegas
with compatible Alphas. What Luna fails to mention to anyone at all, is the aspect of the
soulmate charm. [Wizarding AU where Voldemort died in the first war.] [WIZARDING
TINDER.]

Notes

This is not supposed to exist, like at all. But last night I couldn’t sleep and this was born
after word sprints. There’s a lot of it written already, and if it seems to update slowly, I
know. But I’m letting you know at the very beggining that updates might be slow. It’s
Alpha/Beta/Omega without creatures, so that being said, all of the things that come with it:
mating cycles, knotting, etc. they’re all here. Not yet obviously, but soon.

Canon divergence - Voldemort died in the first Wizarding World. That’s all you need to
know really. No triggers. Leave me what you think for when I wake up! As per normal with
my smut stories, the cover is on my tumblr at mrsren96 because they would definitely ban
my account.
 Chapter 1

PART ONE

She hated it, every last sodding bit of it.

Here she was, dubbed the Brightest Witch of Her Age after graduating from Hogwarts: School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry with top honors. If it weren’t cruel enough to be singled out for her blood
status, she found herself at the bottom of yet another totem pole. A fucking omega as her awful
luck would have it. It wasn’t impossible to hide her designation.

No, they had suppressants for that, handy medications called blockers to block your heats. Yet
when she had presented at sixteen in Hogwarts, there had been no way for her to know why it felt
like she was catching fire from the inside out. There was no magical register for someone to have
sat her down and explained to her that this wasn’t changeable.

There were three tiers in this hierarchy, one that she had a million objections to. Who were the
Fates to decide that should be a perfect woman to bare the children of an Alpha? No, fuck that.
Hermione wanted to scream as Madam Pomfrey had sat her down, giving her the proper
medications.

The designations of her classmates once they presented, were common knowledge. Unsurprisingly,
Harry was an Alpha, and Ron, a Beta. It was another thing that had caused a rift between them.
Hermione could pass as a Beta, albeit a small one, but no one inside of Hogwarts had realized what
was right under their noses for months.

Until again, Madam Pomfrey stuck her nose where it didn’t belong. The school’s healer claimed
that Hermione dosage was much too high. There wasn’t an Omega in recent history that would
have been provided the level she had, and so Hermione had trusted the woman.

It was a fucking mistake. Her heat hit her within two weeks, and every hot blooded Alpha inside
the castle knew. Harry’s invisibility cloak hadn’t given her enough cover as she crept back to
Gryffindor Tower one night. The wispy fabric was ripped right over her head, and she feared the
worst as heat pooled in her knickers. Coming face to face with a blinking Neville Longbottom - her
friend, the remnants of her self control snapped.
Neville was her friend; he would undoubtedly keep her safe, and as she latched onto him, sending
them tumbling into the wall of the corridor, he hadn’t complained. His arms were strong around
her and she hadn’t even minded the mindless thoughts, and later words spilling from her lips of
“Alpha, Alpha,”

Looking back, she was still a bit mortified, but nonetheless, he’d gotten her through the heat that
threatened to burn her alive. Headmaster Dumbledore had concocted a lie on the spot, revealing to
the students that there was an extremely dangerous plant in the Herbology classroom, and that the
pair of them had been rushed to St. Mungos for treatment. When the truth of it all was that he
fucked her for three days straight in the Room of Requirement.

By the time she had revealed her designation to Ron, and Harry, she was quickly approaching the
beginning of her relationship with Ron. Graduating Hogwarts together, it had seemed like her
world was looking up. Until the next heat, which followed in eight months. It was painful to think
about: how Ron had tried to please her, but now that she knew what it was like with an Alpha,
there was no comparison.

It was the day he’d blasted the kitchen of the Burrow nearly to bits, the day he’d learned that her
virginity had been taken by their friend, and it was also the day they broke it off. Hermione hadn’t
wanted the Weasley family to know her designation, but it was hard to avoid when they stood in
the sitting room while a war raged between their youngest son and herself.

It had been a year since then, and for better or worse, her friendship with Ronald Weasley was
strained. At most functions he could barely stand to look at her, and he still wouldn’t speak to
Neville. Another thing she’d taken upon herself to apologize profusely for. It didn’t matter to Ron
that Neville was married, and mated to Luna Lovegood, who was also an Omega.

Ginny couldn't understand the woes of her designation like Luna could, but Hermione loathed
being around the blonde too much. She always offered her husband up on a silver platter and
Hermione shooed her out of her flat before her primal instincts could consider it.

Her heat would be soon, likely within two weeks, and after giving her boss a discreet notice
Hermione flooed home from the Ministry. “Ginny?” She asked, stepping out of the green flames.
Her hand had flown to the spot over her heart. “Merlin, you scared me.”

The redhead grinned while sitting comfortably on the edge of her sofa. “Sorry about that,” she
replied, scratching the back of her head. “I just got done with the Harpies, and I wanted to talk to
you before I went home. I haven’t been here long.”
Hermione tugged her scarf from her neck, draping it over the chair across from Ginny. “A floo call
would have sufficed. You didn’t have to come so far out of your way.” Hermione kicked her heels
off, sinking into the plush chair. “Well, what did you want to talk about?”

“Well,” Ginny broke off, looking away. “I don’t want you to get mad at me because I just want to
help.” Hermione nodded. “You mentioned that you would be taking a leave in two weeks. I assume
that it’s because of, ah,” a red tinge rose to her cheeks.

Hermione pitied her. “Yes, my heat is coming up. I’m going to lock myself inside my flat, and fuck
myself until the miserable time ends.” She didn’t even bat an eyelash during that sentence.

“Okay,” she rose her hands in mock defense, which was comical because he quidditch gear would
deflect most spells. “I know what you’re going to tell me.”

“Oh? You do? Then help me understand why you’re trying to discuss my heat with me, Ginny. It’s
not exactly at the top of my list to talk about with anyone. It’s my business.” Hermione finished
hotly, crossing her arms.

“Have you heard about what Luna is doing?” Ginny blurted, letting her arms down. “She’s started
a matchmaking business, and from the looks of things, it’s going rather well. The charms she’s set
in place are-”

“Are you trying to tell me you’d like to visit a matchmaker?” Hermione scoffed. “Absolutely not.
Ginny, I know that you want to help, but I-”

“It’s not just a matchmaking service, Hermione.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “There’s another
face to the operation, but it requires more discretion. Luna is an Omega as well, so she knows how
difficult it can be. The other service it strictly for Omegas to find a compatible match in an Alpha,
so they can get through their heat.”

“I’m sure she’ll have a very lucrative business, Omega designation or not.” Hermione bit out. “I
don’t want to just hook up with some arsehole Alpha so I can get fucked, Ginny. I hate being like
this, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. The least I can have it the peace of mind knowing
I’m not going to beg someone to mark me as their own.”

“Hermione, it’s nothing set in stone. You don’t even meet your match right away. Luna has owls
that are used to deliver letters between the two of you, strictly for this so they can’t know who you
are. Just..just give it a try. Luna can come here to perform the spell, and it’s already been tested,”

“I would hope so!” Hermione cut her off.

“So, you wouldn’t have to worry.” Ginny finished.

And that’s the story of how she was coerced into what was basically an Alpha/Omega dating
service. Which if she wanted to be truthful, and she so rarely was, it was the beginning of
everything.

The first letter she sent was extremely simple, and to the point.

Hello,

If you are receiving this I assume I don’t need to explain myself. A dear friend of mine convinced
me to do this when I didn’t want to, but my heat is in roughly a week. If you are the stereotypical
Alpha, need not reply to this. In fact, burn the letter and I can pretend this isn’t happening at all.

The x seemed like too much, but given the harshness of her letter, and that she wouldn’t leave her
name, it remained and she sent it with a snowy owl. She watched it flap away from her window
sill. Settling into bed, she didn’t expect for a reply at all, but half an hour later, the same owl
pecked at her window.

She padded across the floor of her bedroom, opening the window, and letting Tink inside.
Hermione opened the letter carefully, sitting at the foot of her bed while crossing her legs.

Well, hello to you then.

If by stereotypical Alpha, you mean I’m possessive, then yes. I suppose that comes with the
territory - no pun intended. I’m well in control of my faculties however. You said your heat cycle is
nearly on you, so I can’t help but wonder why you’re so abrasive? I would think one would be
looking for a solution.

That fucking letter warmed her, and she could smell cologne on his letter. He smelled of a
fireplace, and of musk. Hermione imagined a man, faceless of course, sitting in front of a roaring
fire. In her imagination that already sprinted away from her, she envisioned someone dressed in
nice trousers, and a white button up shirt while his sleeves were rolled up to expose his forearms.

Whoever this Alpha was, he was intelligent, and the careful wording of his letter was more than
she had expected at all. Hermione plucked a quill from her bedside table, laying on her stomach
while writing on the table.

I didn’t expect a reply.

So if my ‘abrasive’ attitude hasn’t put you off yet, maybe you’re worth talking to afterall. I know
that the service will stick closer to my age, perhaps a year off, or two. It’s safe to say that you’ve
graduated Hogwarts. So forgive me, sir, because I was afraid that this sham of a service would
pair me with Cormac McLaggen.

It’s clear that you aren’t him. Why would I not beg you to take me on every single surface in my
flat? Because I never wanted this, to be an Omega, to be a the perfect baby conceiving machine. Is
that so hard to believe? My solutions thus far has been my own fingers, and that’s how I plan to get
through this heat. Just like all of the others.

Satisfied, Hermione slipped the letter beneath the owl’s fluffy wing, and sat at the edge of her bed
once more. She had the inkling that Tink would be back shortly, and the first warning sign should
have been that she was willing to stay awake.
Yes, I would be rather appalled if Cormac McLaggen had been your match. You seem too
intelligent to be a match for him. He’d need someone he could see as beneath him, and that
wouldn’t be you.

It’s not hard to believe. I’m not surprised that you loathe it so. Your fingers though? They can’t
possibly reach deep enough inside of your swollen cunt to give you the release you crave. Only I
could do that, love. How many heats have you gone through like that?

Have you ever had an Alpha fuck you? Have you ever felt his knot?

Forgive me, I suppose I’m abrasive as well.

She should have trashed the letter, but she set it inside of her bedside table. Hermione should have
been horrified, but no. That hadn’t been her reaction at all. This man, whoever he was, had caused
her to ruin a perfectly good pair of knickers from a measly paragraph. Hermione should not have
replied, but she stayed awake under the lit candle and wrote a reply.

I presented at sixteen, and I’m twenty two now. I’ve only had one heat with an Alpha, and it was
my first. It was uncontrollable at the time. I typically have two heats per year, so that would be
nine heat cycles I’ve spent alone?

There’s never been anyone. I had a boyfriend, but after having an Alpha, it was harder to be with
him during my heat. He dumped me after he learned who I’d slept with, and it’s been like this ever
since.

Yes, I felt his knot, and when I did, I begged him to mark me.

And that’s why I hate being an Omega; I can’t control what I say. If it were you, this stranger I’ve
barely met, would you have done me the same courtesy? Or would you have claimed me as your
own Omega?

x
Rest assured, that I will never mark an Omega unless we’ve discussed it. It’s as binding as
marriage, and far too serious of a choice to make when I’m quite literally fucking you into the
mattress while you try to muffle your screams.

So, no, even if you did beg me while sweet whimpers fell from your lips, I’d never lay a hand on
you in such a way. I’d fill you with my cock and my come.

And if an Alpha has ever tried to claim you without your express permission, please direct him to
me and I will handle the rest.

I would rather hex him into oblivion myself, actually. I might not be handy in a physical
altercation, but I assure you that my wand work is probably better than the poor soul’s who
decided to mark me.

Tell me, do you talk to each Omega you meet like that?

Not that you can see me, but I’m laughing. The only time I have spent only conversing with an
Omega is right now, with you. I’ve been with only one, and it was out of necessity. A close friend of
mine couldn’t make it through on her own, and her parents chose her partner. It was awkward for
both of us.

You intrigue me, and I can’t help but wonder how my words affect you. Are you wet? Are you
rubbing your thighs together? You’re completely in your right state of mind at the moment, aren’t
you?

Do I make you uncomfortable?

x

Hermione’s chest rose and fell with each shallow breath. This wasn’t her heat; no, this was
something else entirely. Tugging her shirt over her head, she lied across her bed with her nipples
rubbing against her cool sheets. She hadn’t put another pair of knickers on, and hesitantly, she slid
her fingers through her folds, rubbing her clit just barely. Her cunt was soaked for him, from a few
letters and she wanted to scrawl her address. It was terrifying.

No, but you should.

Of course I’ve been attracted to others, just to be clear, but you..you pull reactions from me that
are more than just because of our designations. That worries me, but uncomfortable? Not in the
sense that I want you to stop.

More like I’m uncomfortable waiting for this fucking owl to bring me letters because I feel like I
might die of anticipation. And that, that has never happened to me.

I suppose Lovegood, or Longbottom, whatever she chooses to go by now, did promise a perfect
result. Perhaps that’s it, because all I know is that the smell of you is all over this letter. And it
drives me fucking crazy.

You smell of vanilla and sweat, and the sweet scent of you makes me yearn to know what you would
taste like if I spread your legs, if I lowered my mouth to your pussy. I’d love to have you trembling
around me while you’re begging me to take you. I just want to bury myself inside of you.

So I supposed we’re both out of our comfort zones, because I never felt this strongly about my
friend. During yes, there’s nearly no controlling that, but after? I couldn’t get away from her fast
enough.

x
The body wash I use is vanilla. I’m sweating because it’s almost as if the cooling charms in my flat
are broken. I can’t stop sweating, and I’ve had to shuck my clothes. It might be your fault, because
I’m dripping.

Slide your fingers into your cunt, sweetheart and rub your fingers across the letter. I want to taste
you.

With trembling hands, Hermione rested with her back against the headboard, and slid her hand
down her stomach, dipping her fingers between her folds. She nearly backed out, her cheeks
flaming at what she was doing, but she did as he had told her.

It wasn’t because he was an Alpha though, she told herself desperately. It wasn’t that at all.

I don’t know how I taste, but what I do know is that I’m completely fucked. I’ve never needed to
come so badly in my life. What the fuck have you done to me? Did you bewitch me as soon as I
opened your first letter?

If I knew who you were, I would fuck you until you forgot your own name, love. You taste fucking
sublime. All I can think of is your legs over my shoulders while I eat your cunt.

Make yourself come for me. Take your fingers, and rub your clit. They’re too small to be mine, but
imagine yourself with your back to my chest while I stroke your sensitive nub, my other arm locked
over your chest while you writhe against me. I want you to come over your pretty fingers, and I
want you to scream.
No matter who can hear you. And while you do that, I’ll stroke my cock while I wonder how tight
you would feel while my cock split you open. Gods, I hope you want to feel your pussy stretch
around me.

Don’t reply until you’ve come for me, and let me taste you once you have.

It didn’t take much, only a few swipes of her fingers as Hermione imagined a man, caging her with
his own body, his rough fingers sliding inside of her while she begged for more. It was the fantasy
of straddling him, of impaling herself on his cock that made pushed her over the edge. She
shrieked, her hand staying firmly on her breast even though she wanted to cover her mouth.

Sliding her fingers across the paper, she sat anxiously for what would return.

You’re perfect.

I know you must have been going to bed when you owled me, so I want you to go to sleep. When
you wake up, there will be a letter from me. As I seemingly can’t wait to talk to you again.

When you dream, dream of me thrusting into you. With you pinned to the wall, from behind while I
grip your hips.

If there’s a chance for me to earn the chance to take care of you through your heat, I will do
everything in my power to make all of these words your reality.

Hermione fell asleep, dreaming of a man that she couldn’t see, but could feel every inch of as she
rocked against him.
And she wondered if somewhere in England, this man went to sleep thinking of her, and the taste
of her on his lips. It was her hope that there would be a letter waiting for her tomorrow morning.
 Chapter Two
Chapter Notes

Did I tell myself “No, Kelsey, you can wait at least a week to update. That way you’ll
be prepared and not so overwhelmed.”? I sure did. It was then followed by “Well,
tomorrow is my birthday so I do what I want, and who am I to deny people?”

So, here we are, and we can all thank weestarmeggie17 for uber quick beta skills
because I love her.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

PART TWO

She stirred into consciousness as sunlight cut across her frame. With a light sheet wrapped around
her, Hermione rolled onto her side, and her eyes shot open. Perched on her window sill was a
familiar snowy owl, its head tilting as she nearly fell on her face. Hermione scrambled out of bed,
wrenching the window open and removing the letter from it’s leg.

Tink stepped into her flat, ruffling her feathers while Hermione sat at her desk. Still fully nude, the
chair was cold against her skin. Though it had nothing to do with the way her hair stood up on her
arms and at the base of her neck.

How did you sleep?

I dreamt of you, and can I just detail how irritating it is to imagine someone beneath me when I
have no idea what they look like? That’s not so as to pressure you. I barely slept for thinking of
you, of your legs wrapped around me, and how fantastic you would feel to sink into.

I don’t know where you work, but I hope your day is enjoyable. I’m not even sure I will be able to
make it through this day considering every time you cross my mind, my cock gets hard. It’s a bit
hard to conduct business meetings when it’s clear what you would rather be doing, isn’t it?

X
Muffling her girlish giggle with the back of her hand, she let the letter drift to the top of her desk.
Who was this man? How could he have attended Hogwarts with her? No boy in her year, or one
over, or one below was this eloquent with words were they? He’d managed to rile her up, and she
realized there might be more to this ‘matchmaking’ than she’d been led to believe.

Should she ask Luna? Hermione nibbled at her bottom lip, her eyes drifting back to the letter. It
sounded silly to say that this felt magical. She had lived her entire life with magic, in a world set
apart from another, and passionate love letters were what she considered magical? It was
preposterous, and yet, that’s exactly what it was.

A quill poised in her hand, she watched the swooping lines of ink as she wrote a reply.

I don’t think I have slept so soundly if I can be honest with you. Can you imagine my surprise when
I woke up naked in my bed? I thought last night had been a dream, fueled by my own desires. When
I saw the owl at my window..I nearly fell trying to get out of bed.

I dreamt of you in so many different ways. I’ve always considered myself to be good with words,
but I’m at a loss. As I fell asleep, I’d hoped you were thinking of me. Against my better judgement,
I’ll tell you where I work, but without details. I work at the Ministry, as several Witches and
Wizards do.

It’s impossible to make it through a meeting, you say? It’s nice to know I have that kind of power
over you, but I fear I might be in the same dilemma. Not that I’ve put on a pair of knickers yet, but
it’s a well educated guess that I’ll ruin them. It must be something about this matchmaking service.

Hermione tied the letter to the owl’s leg, rubbing her head with her index finger, and giving her a
treat before opening the window once more. She opened her closet, pulling a pencil skirt from the
rack. Zipping it up in the back, she smoothed the black fabric down. Paired with a dark green
blouse, she combed her fingers through her hair carefully as she made her way into her bathroom.

Her cheeks were flushed, and perhaps it was just the well sated look in her eyes, but she left the top
two buttons of her blouse undone. Just the right amount of skin to make herself feel comfortable in
her skin, but not so much that it would cause an uproar. The corners of her lips quirked into a smile
at the thought: The Head of the Magical Creatures Division Has Breasts.
That awful Skeeter would write any amount of rubbish, and she doubled the ridiculousness of it if
Hermione Granger was involved. It would seem it was not so simple for one to just get over being
held captive in a jar for a year.

With her hair as tame as she could manage it, she slipped her feet into her pumps by her kitchen
island. Donning her black pea coat, Hermione grabbed the cup of already brewed tea from the
counter. It was a simple spell for her tea to be ready when she left for work each day.

She told herself it would have been immature for her to wait just a bit longer that morning in her
flat, just to see if he was as quick to reply as he had been the night before. Shaking her head at the
silly thoughts, Hermione’s heels clicked against the tiles of the atrium as her fingers gripped her
cup tight.

The first of several things that gave away her cheerful mood was when she passed Ron Weasley
with a polite hello, and a wave before making her way to the seventh floor. She smirked the whole
ride up at the memory of his baffled expression when he had turned to Harry, who had simply
shrugged.

The second had been when she’d greeted Draco Malfoy as he passed her, and he’d been taken by
surprise. “What’s got you in such a good mood, Granger?” He called after her, and she continued
without looking back.

“I just feel like it’s going to be a good day. Don’t you?” She rounded the corner, coming to the door
of her office. Setting her ornate mug down on its coaster, she shrugged her coat off and draped it
over the back of her chair.

Hermione melted into it, crossing one leg over the other and leaned back while she opened the first
parcel on her desk. It was a thin envelope, but the familiar writing across the front of it made her
drop it as if it had burned the tips of her fingers. She rose to her feet, nearly tripping again , and
poked her head out to take a peek at her secretary.

“Katie, do you know how this got here?” She held the now empty parcel out, having left what was
sure to be another raunchy letter at her desk. “There’s no return address,” she lied.
Katie looked up from sorting paperwork. “It was a Ministry owl, so I’d assume it was someone in
the building. I could locate the sender for you if you’d like?”

Not being able to think of anything worse than her secretary doing a diagnostic spell on that letter,
Hermione shook her head. “That won’t be necessary, but thank you.”

Closing her office door quietly, she quickly made her way back to her chair, her legs shaking. It
would be best to pocket the parchment, to ignore the hole it burned in the tiny pockets she had all
day. Of course that wasn’t what she did at all, pushing away the rationalization as soon as it had
come.

Perhaps you should just not wear your knickers, love. I like the thought of you dripping, and
holding your legs together so no one can notice. If you’re letters are anything to go by, I’d hazard
a guess that you’re in a position of authority. Do you wear regulation skirts?

You’re demanding, that much I can sense about you, but there’s something scratching below the
surface, isn’t there? You’re dying to break out your shell. I’m at the Ministry as well - flooed in this
morning, yet here I am, sneaking off so I can reply to your letter because fuck if I can wait. All I
want to do is find you, and sit you on your desk and fuck you senseless.

It was a mistake, an incredibly foolish mistake to vanish her knickers, but it was a mistake she took
pleasure in.

Hermione swallowed, fanning herself with the parchment, and she nearly jumped out of her skin
when her door was thrown open.

Harry arched an eyebrow when she opened the middle drawer of her desk and slid the letter inside,
locking it wordlessly. “What is that?”

“It’s nothing,” she squeaked, and since when did her voice sound that high? “How can I help you,
Harry?”

“It doesn’t sound like nothing.” He grinned, sitting across from her, fidgeting with his wand. “I just
wanted to come by; we haven’t talked in a while.”
She sighed, rubbing her temples and resting her elbows on her desk. “This is because I was too
nice to Ron this morning, isn’t it? You know, just because he’s content to be a raging arsehole to
me all of the time doesn’t mean I have to be.”

Harry shook his head. “He’s my best mate, Hermione, but even I can see when something is wrong.
Actually what happened is that Ginny let it slip how you agreed to try Luna’s newest-”

“You’re bloody kidding me,” she snarled, her palm slapping down against the calendar on her desk.
“What business is it of Ron’s if I’ve decided to try dating? Approximately none,” she spat when he
opened his mouth to answer her rhetorical question. “Did he send you to try and drag information
out of me?”

Harry put his hands up, just like his wife had when she’d come to Hermione’s flat. “Hey, I don’t
agree with what he thinks, Hermione. We didn’t even know Ron was there when Ginny told me, so
I don’t want you to be angry with her for that either.”

She shook her head. “That’s the least of what I’m angry about. He dumped me, Harry, not the other
way around. I’m going straight to him; I’m not going to bother with this back and forth anymore.
This isn’t Hogwarts anymore. Are you ever going to stop being his messenger? What is that little
twat?”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Hermione, I really don’t think it would be such a good idea to-”

“I didn’t ask you what you thought was a good idea, Harry Potter. I’m going to tell Ron Weasley to
stay out of my business, and I will draw him a bloody map if I have to! Where is he?” She asked
once more, tapping her foot.

Harry sighed. “He’s in with the newest trainees, but I don’t think you should confront him
immediately. You know how he is, and he’s so likely to let slip your..secret, and then where would
you be?”

Hermione froze, but then she wrenched her door open anyway. “Quite frankly, I don’t give a
damn.” It should have been a clue that something was undeniably wrong when she lost her temper
in the middle of her office.

Considering that it was Ron, she hadn’t thought much of it then. Nothing beyond storming into a
room full of Aurors in training where she was going to show them the best practical duel they’d
ever seen. Nevermind that it would be one sided. Harry was hot on her heels as she stormed down
the corridor, making her way down the three floors.

The room in which Aurors trained was charmed within the building as if it were a room as large as
the floor itself. It could be modified to adjust to any scenery, and when she stepped inside, they
were running a practice for the mountains.

Hermione glanced up the rocks, her eyes landing on a familiar red head as she stepped carefully
over rocks that had been blasted from the mountains. “Stop!” He shouted, throwing his hand out
and the spells that had been flying came to a halt. “Hermione, you can’t just barge in here.” He told
her. “Malfoy, step back.” He grumbled.

Her eyes fell over him. His white blond hair was disheveled, his suit askew. “Granger, is that day
still going so well?”

She glared at him. “Unfortunately, no.” Hermione faced Ron, placing her hands on her hips. “Who
do you think you are to send Harry to gather information on my private life?” Her voice rose with
each word, and his face grew hotter. “If I choose to use Luna’s bloody dating service, then that is
my business, and mine alone. You are not my handler, Ronald.”

“You need to leave, Hermione, or I’ll force you out.” He told her sternly, his eyebrows knitting
together. “What’s gotten into you?”

She opened her mouth, poised her wand, and then the thought hit her with the force of the
Hogwarts Express. The mess between her legs, her temper, and the rising temperature of her body.
She’d brushed it off as nothing more than her anger towards an ex flame, but it was her heat.

It wasn’t supposed to be possible.

It was at the same moment Ron drew his wand that there was a animalistic growl from behind her.
Fingers latched onto the back of her blouse near the top, fingers brushing against her mating gland,
and she was yanked backwards, tucked behind Malfoy’s broad back. It was a heady revelation, the
smell of his cologne.

Her cheeks burned as his thumb rubbed absent circles against her back, not noticeable to anyone
else. Of all the Alphas in the Wizard World, it had been Draco Malfoy who she’d dreamed of, who
she’d written letters that she’d have never sent if she’d known who he was. Though she couldn’t
think of it at the moment, that was probably the point of the anonymous letters to begin with.

“Malfoy,” Ron spluttered as he looked down at the wand digging into the flesh of his chin. “What
the fuck are you doing?”

Exhaling, and not growling like he just had, Malfoy’s shoulders visibly relaxed. All Hermione
wanted to do was slip her hands over his muscular back, slide the jacket off, and rub herself against
him. However, that was definitely her heat talking, and they were in public. Even as he relaxed, he
didn’t calm down.

“Go, Granger,” he told her, clenching his jaw. Pressing a hand to the small of her back, he urged
her down the mountain face. “Weasley, I don’t have time to explain this shit to you, but I’m sure
Potter can draw a diagram for you. You can discuss the fucking funding with me later.” His touch
was hot against her, even though her clothes.

As the stepped into the hallway, the training room door slamming shut behind them, she couldn’t
bear to look up at him. Fortunately - no, Hermione, you didn’t enjoy one bit of this - Malfoy lifted
her head with his knuckle resting beneath her chin. “If you’d like to pretend this never happened, I
suggest you obliviate me right now,” he told her huskily.

Too slowly for his preference, judging by the snarl that left him, Hermione shook her head. “I’m
surprised, of course. You’re the last person I would have thought would be a match for me.”

“Imagine my surprise, thinking you were a beta all of this time. Merlin, you’ve really despised your
designation, haven’t you?” His voice was low, and he leaned against the wall of the corridor,
crossing one ankle over the other.

“Well, I was called a Mudblood so many times, I hardly wanted to add being an Omega to that.”
She told him softly, not missing the guilt that flashed briefly across his face and made him clench
his fists. “I wanted to hide it, but I’m not so sure that will be a possibility anymore. Harry tried to
tell me,” a soft grumble at the mention of her friend. “I was too angry, but I didn’t realize I was
going into heat.”

Draco nodded, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his well tailored suit. “You told me it
wouldn’t be for a week; do you know what changed?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t missed a dosage, so no, but if you asked me to guess, it’s probably
because of the charms involved in Luna’s practices. Whatever she’s done, well, it’s made me crazy
for..you.” Hermione murmured.

He inhaled sharply, and then he gripped her waist, pulling her forward. Whispering low next to her
ear, his tongue darting out to trace the shell of it he said “You’re dripping for me, love. Did you
receive my last letter?”

A shaky nod. “I vanished my knickers in my office. I feel like I’m going to combust, and I’ve never
felt this hot before.” She whimpered, resting her forehead against his chest. “I don’t know what I
need.”

“Yes, you do, Hermione.” The sound of her first name rolling off his tongue made her shiver, or it
might have been the way his fingers trailed along her spine in the drafty corridor of the Ministry.
“What you need is for me to fuck you, isn’t that it?”

She nodded shakily. “Why did you react the way you did in front of everyone? Ron,” he nipped her
neck at the mention of her ex boyfriend. “Wouldn’t have hurt me. You acted as if -”

“It’s because you smell divine, and if you’d stayed in there any longer, one or more of the Alphas
would have gone into rut. As much as I’d love to fight off several of them for you,” heat pooled
between her legs, her slickness dripping down her legs.

This Alpha could protect her. He was stronger than the rest.

She’d completely missed whatever he was saying. “Are you?” Hermione blurted.

“Am I what?” He nuzzled her neck, glancing over her shoulder to watch if anyone was coming
their way.

“Are you in rut?” She gasped when his fingers dug into her waist, and he pulled back to look at her.
His eyes were blown open, dark, and fathomless to her beyond the fact that she was sure he was
going to pin her to the wall and fuck her well into satiation.

And she would let him.

 And then--

He nodded.

Chapter End Notes

I’m not even sorry. -shrugs and rubs hands together-

THANK YOU SOOOOO FUCKING MUCH FOR ALL OF THE LOVE. I screeched
when I saw my email the morning after publishing. My boyfriend thought someone
broke into the house.
 Chapter Three
Chapter Notes

Fully beta’d for your reading pleasure by weestarmeggie17. Any mistakes are my
own. Coming from the US at 1 A.M. Final warning: there’s knotting in this fic.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

PART THREE

The sharp sound of apparition had no doubt given them away, but she found that it was the least of
her worries. What she concerned herself with, while she still could, was that this was Draco
Malfoy, the very same Malfoy who had bullied her for a time, and now she was going to practically
beg him to take care of her. It wasn’t that she was afraid to disappoint him-

Okay, so maybe she was , but that was her designation talking. Alright, maybe she was also
worried considering that she’d seen the lovely Witches on his arm in the editions of Witch Weekly.

Witch, Witch, Witch, she repeated in her head, looking up at him. He had apparated with her into a
well furnished flat, decorated in dark themes. But decorations were the last thing she fucking cared
about right now.

“The Witch you helped when she went into heat,” Hermione gasped when his fingers threaded
through her hair, kissing her roughly while he pinned her to the wall in the entryway. “It was
Astoria Greengrass, wasn’t it?” A nod. “I thought, ah,” she whimpered when he touched her
breasts through her blouse. “That the two of you were engaged.”

“Fuck no, I’d like to enjoy the rest of my life, thank you.” Draco bit out. “Fuck, you look so sexy in
these heels.”

“You were never..?”

“Her father wanted it, and I refused.” He muttered into the column of her neck. “Once I turned of
age, the Head of family was passed to me. I did whatever the fuck I wanted, and I did not want to
marry that frigid bitch.”

“ Merlin, ” her nails bit into his shoulders as she clung to him, all while he kissed down her neck. It
was only the onset of her heat; once it truly started, she wouldn’t want any of this foreplay. No,
she’d want him inside of her. At the thought of his knot, her head fell back against the wall. “Frigid
bitch?”

He chuckled darkly, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. “You have no fucking idea. She was
dreadfully boring as well.”

Hearing that he had been with another Omega, even when knowing how horrible it was to go
through one alone, caused her to grip him a little tighter. “ Good,” she whimpered as his hands
gripped her waist, one sneaking behind her to pull the zipper down. “Oh,” Hermione nearly
collapsed as Draco reached under her skirt, the pads of his fingers rubbing against her clit.

If it weren’t for him catching her, pinning her to the wall off his flat with his own body she would
have sunk to the floor. “Does it please you to know I want nothing to do with her?” He whispered
in her ear, wrapping her legs around his waist and sliding two fingers into her slick folds. “Why is
that I wonder?”

Her back arched off the wall when his fingers curled inside of her, and she managed to gasp “I
don’t want anyone else touching you.” Despite his rough grip on her waist, his fingers moved
slowly. With shaking fingers she undid his tie, pulling it from around his neck and tossing it to the
floor.

“Bedroom,” she managed to choke out, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. “Will you take care
of me, Alpha?” She purred, too far gone to even care how needy she sounded. Pleased with the
growl she dragged from him, and the way his nostrils flared, Hermione rotated her hips against his
erection. “Need you.”

“I know what you need,” he bit her ear, storming through his flat. Heavy footfalls sounded against
the wooden flooring, and her arms slid around his neck, lacing her fingers together. “I’ll take care
of you,” he promised darkly, kicking his bedroom door open with the toe of his shoe. “I’ll help you
through this one, and I’ll show you why is should be me everytime.”

She whimpered as he set her on his bed, pausing to unbutton his shirt. “Just vanish them,” she
pleaded, watching hungrily as he bared inch by inch of his chest. “Draco, please!”
He smirked, his white oxford slipping down his arms, and he threw it to the floor. “Undress for
me, sweetheart.”

Heat gushed between her legs at the endearment. If she burned any hotter, which she knew she
would, she would consider herself lucky if fate let her out of this alive. Nodding, she reached down
to remove her heels, and then her blouse. The wispy fabric floated to the floor; Hermione reached
behind her to unclasp her bra, and felt her pride swell when his eyes darkened at the sight of her
breasts. His tongue darted out to slide along his lower lip.

You’ve pleased your Alpha, her mind cooed.

Draco took her by the hand, tugging her to her feet, and he pushed her skirt over her hips for it to
collect on the floor. “So,” a soft brush of his knuckles against her jawline. “Fucking,” his finger
slid down the soft skin of her throat, over her collarbone, and down her breast. “Beautiful.”

The remainder of her self control snapped, and that was if there had been a shred of it left at all.
With her dignity already discarded -- Hermione pulled him down to her, kissing him roughly, and
pulling at strands of his hair while jumping up to wrap her legs around him. It was an Alpha thing,
she realized through her pleasure induced haze, but she kept thinking of how large he was
compared to her.

Taller than her, but she fit in the curve of his body. “I’m going to burn alive,” she muttered, locking
her legs at her ankles and clinging to him tightly as the mattress dipped below the weight of his
knee.

“You won’t,” he reassured her calmly.

“You’ll just have to spend the next few days with your knot buried inside of me.” Hermione
squealed when his eyes flashed, and he slammed her into the soft bed. He nipped her lips, kissing
down her neck to her breasts.

He murmured between breaths of how stunning she was, of how perfect she was, and Hermione
lapped up the attention with her hair fanned across the pillows. Digging her fingers into the finely
threaded sheets, her head rolled to the side as he lifted one leg over his shoulder.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his palm settling against the mound of her pussy, and he gently rubbed her
clit. He whispered to her in the silence of how swollen she was, of how ready she must be for his
cock. He grinned wickedly, and using one of his hands, he held her down by her stomach as his
tongue slid between her folds.

“Draco,” she shrieked, her stomach clenching. Anticipation had been nothing compared to the feel
of him eating her cunt with slow, deliberate strokes. “Gods, I can’t,” her spluttering was incoherent
as her back arched sharply off of the bed. She was right, of course. It wasn’t possible for her to
hang on, and it wasn’t possible to break eye contact with him as he flicked the sensitive nub.

She thought she screamed, but to be honest she felt so out of control that she didn’t have the
slightest clue. “Please,” it was a sob. “I need you so fucking badly.”

Draco’s arms slipped under her, and around her waist. Pulling her up, with her legs resting over his
forearms, he slammed her down his cock, her folds slick and ready for him.

Her nails cut into his shoulders, drawing blood. “Draco!” She screamed, her cunt squeezing him as
he gripped her arse and fucked her. Her words weren’t coherent at all, but she whimpered, and
pleaded for him to please, please stay forever, and take care of her. Fill my with your come.
Behind wave after wave of pleasure, it was all she could do to remain upright against him.

“Draco, please,” Hermione moaned.

He would withdraw from her fully before thrusting back inside of her, his cock stretching her.
“You’re so tight for me,” he groaned. “I think you were made for me, sweet little Omega.” He was
smirking, like he knew she’d wallop him for that comment later.

“Maybe I was,” Hermione gasped as he dropped her, her back hot against the cool sheets. His
fingers found her clit, rubbing at the same speed as he fucked her. If he slowed down one more
time, she was going to destroy his flat. “At the same time though, it’s been so long since-”

His thumb traced her bottom lip. “Look at how pretty you are laid out for me with your legs
spread, love.” He murmured, bending to run his tongue against her nipple. “If you could see how
good your swollen cunt looks stretched around my cock.” Draco grasped both of her wrists in one
hand, pinning them above her head.

“I feel so full,” she moaned, tugging at his hair.

“If you feel full,” his words emphasized by another rough stroke where he bottomed out, and she
shrieked. “Can you imagine how good I’ll make you feel when I knot? Is that what you want,
sweetheart? My knot filling you up?”

She was burning, the flames licking her skin. “I want it so badly.” Hermione gasped, and all the
emotions were nearly too much. She swore she wasn’t usually an emotional person and knew it
was her heat affecting her at that moment.. Cynical, stubborn, independent, but she wanted to sob
in desperation for him. “Draco, please, I need to feel -”

“Can you take my knot?” His breath was hot against her ear. “If my cock swells inside of your tight
pussy, could you bear it, Hermione?”

“Yes!” Her sob was broken, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, wiggling them free from
his grasp. He’d let her go, of course.

She was sure to have bruises from where his hands had gripped her hips, from where he’d held her
hands over her head, and she wanted them there. If she didn’t have the imprint of his teeth over her
mating gland, then so be it, but everyone would know. His scent would be all over her, and she
wanted more, wanted him.

It was abundantly clear that she would be begging for him to claim her before this was over. She
was a mess, scratching down his back as he fucked her into the mattress. This coupling was
stronger than what she had experienced in Hogwarts. The sole incident was the only thing she
could compare it to, but this was raw.

Even for an Alpha in rut, he was somehow more animalistic. He was so fucking loud, his groans
sounded more like growls and she melted beneath him.

Good, you’ve pleased him, and now everyone anywhere near this flat will know. The jealousy
wasn’t so much an Omega trait, but pride bloomed in her chest. He was hers . “Mine,” she
murmured, cupping his face and biting his bottom lip. “Only mine.”

His smirk grew, each word in time with a snap of his hips. “You’re mine, Granger. I remember
when you went into heat; did you know that? I’d never smelled anything so sweet, but I could
never find you.”

She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut as his thumb moved against her clit and she came over his
cock again. “Should have,” it was a breathless gasp. “Found me sooner. If I had experienced this
instead of, instead of another,” she corrected at the darkening of his eyes. “I don’t think, Merlin, ”
Draco picked her up, rotating them where his back was to the headboard, and he impaled her on his
cock.

His eyebrow arched. “You don’t think what exactly?” He drawled, helping her ride him. “Would
you like to know what I think would have happened six years ago?”

Hermione whimpered, and nodded weakly.

“ Tell me,” he commanded, and her orgasm slammed into her while she trembled at the power in
his voice.

At this point her thoughts were nothing but a repeat of Alpha, Alpha, of how strong he was, of how
lucky she was, of how she needed to buy Luna the biggest bouquet of flowers ever. “I want you to
tell me what you think would have happened.” With her hands on his shoulders, she moved against
him.

His fingers ran down her spine slowly. “I would have worked to win you over, Granger. I would
have fucked you until you would have been ruined for anyone but me.” He held her chin, leveling
his gaze with hers. “Make no mistake when I say you are mine.”

She nodded, breathless, swiveling her hips and pressed herself closer. “Don’t stop, I need more.
Gods, Draco, even the first time, I wasn’t so -”

“Shh,” he murmured, dragging her down for a hard kiss. “I promise to take such good care of you,
sweet girl.”

It was then, as she clenched around him again, that she felt the beginning of his knot swell.
“Alpha,” she dragged out, her head falling back. “Will you put me on my back? I’m not strong
enough to fuck myself as hard as I want.”

He licked between her breasts, capturing her wrists once more, and pinning them over her head.
“Put your legs over my shoulders, Hermione.” She moaned, lifting her legs with the backs of her
knees resting against his broad shoulders. “Are you on the potion? I assume you are.”
She whimpered when the head of his cock brushed against her lips and pulled away. “What are you
doing?”

“Contraceptive potion, are you on it?” A nod. “Thank fuck,” he grumbled, and the position wasn’t
like anything she’d ever felt before, as he leaned forward, her legs were pushed closer to her.

“Oh, my God.” Hermione’s nails scratched his chest, drawing blood. “ Harder, Malfoy,” she
hissed.

His fingers latched into her hair roughly, and it took a series a small thrusts for her to take his knot.
He whispered low in her ear, “Look how pretty you are filled with my cock.” He bit her throat,
leaving love bites over the side of her neck.

“I’m going to-”

“Now, sweetheart.”

Hermione screamed to the praises that fell from him. He told her how back arched so beautifully
for him, that she was stunning when she trembled orgasm after orgasm. She was wholly
unprepared for when he made good on his promise to fill her full of his come.

He growled, his hair falling in his face while he peered down at her.

Breathless, and unable to move, she mewled happily when he gathered her into his arms. Draco
laid on his back while she straddled his waist, collapsing against his chest. “I like when you call
me sweetheart,” she mumbled.

He laughed, brushing hair from her face and kept an arm wrapped around her waist tightly. “I
gathered that.” She nodded, and a small yawn shattered the post coital moment. “Sleep,” he told
her.

“I will, but when I wake up I want you to fuck me all over again.” She poked him in the sternum.
“Don’t leave.”
 “There’s not one thing that could make me leave you,” he snorted.

“Voldemort could be resurrected.” She chimed.

His laugh was dark as he pressed a kiss into her hair. “Clearly you’ve come down from your high.”

“Unfortunately,” she mumbled.

Chapter End Notes

You. Are. All. Incredible. Over 350 + followers between here and AO3, or here and
FFN depending on which you’re reading on. The reviews for last chapter were the
most I’ve ever received on a single chapter. So..if you wanna break that record, I’ll be
back to the living in eight hours or so. I hope you enjoyed!
 Chapter Four
Chapter Notes

AGAIN holy shit fuck. You’re all amazing. I can wait to hear what you think of this
one!

PART FOUR

Hermione stirred a few hours later, nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck. He smelled of
cologne, and sweat. As she moved her hips against him experimentally, he gripped her waist
tightly. “You’re awake,” his voice was low, and he kissed her temple, sending chills shooting
down her spine. “How do you feel?”

“Hot,” she murmured, running her finger along his Sectumsempra scar, from tip to tip. “Harry
shouldn’t have done this to you.” Her palm flattened against his chest, right above his beating
heart. “I tried to tell him to stop, you know.” Hermione pressed her lips to the edge of the scar, her
tongue darting out and sliding against his marred flesh.

His cock stiffened against her. She wasn’t altogether sure when he’d pulled out of her, but from her
position of straddling his hips, she couldn’t see any reason why she shouldn’t impale herself on his
thick erection once more. “Sweetheart,” he began, but she pressed her lips to his feverishly, her
tongue tracing his bottom lip. He didn’t need any further provoking - Draco’s fingers dug into her
side. “I want you on your hands and knees, can you do that for me?”

She nodded happily, wordlessly, and slid off of him. Hermione made a move to bundle her hair so
it would be out of the way, but he took hold of it, and whispered in her eyes to get on her hands and
knees before he made her.

At the moment, angering her Alpha was close to the absolute worst thing she could imagine. The
sheets were disheveled below her, wrinkling as her hands fisted in them. “Draco,” she whimpered
quietly as the head of his cock rubbed against her folds. “Please fuck me.” Her voice broke at the
quick thrust, and the pleasure as he pulled her hair. “Yes,” she dragged the word out, leaning lower
while her arse lifted higher for him to fuck her.

He was well in control of himself, or gave the impression, since he wasn’t breathless like she was.
His hips moved forward without pause, slamming into her dripping cunt. “You’re such a good
Omega for your Alpha,” Draco told her, dragging his nails down her bare back. “Merlin, your
pussy looks so good stretched around my cock.”

She moaned at his praises, moving against him quickly. It was as if he’d never satisfied her earlier
when she began to beg. A haze of yes, please, Alpha. I’ll do anything if you make me come again.

“Greedy girl,” he teased her, slapping her arse, and then his fingers kneaded the soft globe. “Are
you?”

“What?” Hermione snapped, the fine sheets ripping under her nails. “Holy fuck, ” she shrieked as
her legs were spread farther, and he pressed his chest to her back. “That’s..so much deeper,” she
gasped.

Nevermind that he was fucking her without even holding himself up at this point - though she was
likely to ponder his core strength after he fucked her neediness right out of her - Draco reached up,
grabbing her wrists carefully. Lacing his fingers through her own, he pinned them against the soft
mattress. “Are you greedy for my cock, sweetheart?”

Her answer was a broken moan when two strokes came faster as she pushed herself against him,
desperate for more. “No,” she cried when his movement slowed.

“I asked you a question,” he told her gently. “”It would seem I was too rough for you to answer.”
He chuckled when she glared at him.

Hermione nodded, “Yes,”

“Say it, Hermione. I want to hear you tell me.”

She shuddered, her cunt squeezing his cock. “I’m greedy for your cock,” she repeated. “I want you
to fuck me so hard that I can’t walk tomorrow morning. For Merlin’s sake, if you don’t fuck me,
I’ll find-”

He pulled her hair, much to her delight, slamming into her with enough force to push her flat
against the bed. “It doesn’t do to make me jealous, sweetheart. I’ll have to punish you, and I don’t
think you would enjoy that very much.”
While disappointing him certainly sounded awful, it was clear he would enjoy punishing her, and
perhaps it was foolish.

But Hermione asked him to show her what a punishment was like when her heat was finally over.

Naked amongst the sheets of his four poster bed, Hermione woke up alone in the bedroom. She
rubbed her eyes, looking down at herself, at the love bites across her breasts, and the marks of
where his fingers had been. His come had dripped from her cunt, and down her thighs, coating the
insides of her legs.

Her head falling to the side, she threw the sheets off of her legs, and crawled out of the bed. While
he was nowhere to be seen, he was definitely in his flat somewhere. Still in heat, but slightly
satiated, she thought to wear at least something. Even though it was his shirt, only buttoned
halfway. And she wasn’t wearing knickers.

And really what was the point when her goal here was to make him bend her over and fuck her all
over again.

Hermione crept into the kitchen, peeking around the corner to see him standing in front of the
island. Her eyes lit up. “What are you doing?”

“Come here,” there was a lazy, and small, but still there smile on his face. Draco picked her up by
her hips and set her on the countertop. “How did you sleep?” His fingers slid up the insides of her
thighs, and her legs parted.

“Probably better when you were there,” she laughed quietly.

He arched an eyebrow. “You were hardly sleeping when I was there.” Draco reminded her, his
finger slipping inside of her. “I ordered takeaway. You need to eat, and I am a dreadful cook.” He
told her, sinking to his knees in front of her. “And while I have the chance, I want to taste you.”

She nodded, watching him pull her to the edge of the counter and spread her legs. His tongue was
hot against her pussy, the tip of it swiping over her clit, and she dug the backs of her heels into the
cupboard. Already beginning to burn, she unbuttoned his shirt in a frenzy, throwing it to the floor,
and kneading her breasts herself. “Fuck.”

Naturally they were interrupted, and of course it had to be just as her back arched off of the black
marble, and a shriek tumbled from her lips, that the food he’d ordered arrived. Draco didn’t pull
away; instead one finger became two, and with one - two more flicks of his skilled tongue against
her clit, she came with a scream that was his name. “Draco, fucking Merlin, that was-” she broke
off.

He kissed the inside of her thigh, his tongue rolling against her once more before standing. “Wait
here while I answer the door, and don’t get dressed.”

As if she could have gotten dressed. It was all she could do to lay there in post orgasmic bliss as he
opened the door. She ought to have been worried about whether someone would see her, laid across
his kitchen island like some wanton whore, but didn’t much care. She was wanton, and all she
wanted was for him to put her on her knees, and tell her to suck him off.

Draco sat the bag beside her, pulling the dishes from inside of it. “I didn’t know what you liked, so
I-”

“I like you,” she grinned. “I’d much rather have you than food.”

He rolled his eyes. “You have to eat,” he told her, pushing a styrofoam bowl towards her. “Because
it won’t be long till you’re so greedy you’re begging for my cock.”

She rolled onto her stomach, crossing her legs and kicking them up. “What if I beg for you now?
What if I tell you how I would like for you to bend me over this counter and fuck me until
everyone near your flat knew you had an Omega of your own?” At the darkening of his eyes, she
continued. “What if I told you that we should really test out that section of the wall, and see if you
can fuck me so hard, you break the sodding thing. Or what if I told you how when you ate my
dripping cunt, all I could think of was how badly I wanted to suck your cock. Can you imagine
fucking my mouth?”

Draco snapped, circling the counter as if she were prey, and he pulled her down to where only her
torso was laid across it. “You want me to fuck you?” He growled in her ear. “I could fuck you over
every surface in this fucking place, and it still wouldn’t be enough.”
Hermione vanished his trousers, and all, pressing her cunt against his stiff cock. “Maybe you
should try.” She murmured. “If this is anything like, oh fuck,” he thrust into her folds easily. “The
last time, I’m not going to remember the last day, and I want to remember this so fucking badly.”

“You might think differently once you leave my flat.” He hissed, reaching around her to pinch her
hard nipples.

“Then it’s your job to make me remember how good we are, how bloody fantastic you feel when
you’re fucking me raw.” Hermione snapped, and it pushed him far enough to fuck her hard right
over the counter.

Forget the food, in a burst of accidental magic, she’d mistakenly vanished it.

The morning of the third day, Hermione laid curled up in the curve of his body, his arm wrapped
around her. She traced lazy circles over the hard cut of his abdomen, her fingers trailing absently
below his waist to grasp his cock. His hips jerked, and he held her chin between his thumb and
index finger to kiss her.

Her breaths fell in short gasps as she slung her leg over him, moving to straddle his hips. “Merlin,
how are you still going?” She moved her hands of his chest, moving to massage his shoulders.

He chuckled, grasping her waist and sliding into her tight cunt. She whimpered, her head falling
forward. “It’s how the world works, sweetheart. You were made for me, remember?”

She nodded, sliding her arms up and around his neck, slumping against his broad chest. “You were
made for me .” Hermione told him, her fingers tangling in his hair, rolling her hips against him.
“And only me, not another omega who needed a fucking favor.”

The corner of his lips quirked into a devilish smile. “Growing possessive of me, are you?” His
fingers knotted in her hair, yanking on the curly strands. Taking in her eyes hooded with desire, he
reached between her legs with his other hand.

Whimpers left her at the contact, and it was all she could do not to beg to be claimed as his.
She would remember later that this was why she was afraid to become involved with an Alpha,
particularly this Alpha. Draco Malfoy appeared as the best sodding thing that had ever walked into
her life, and he’d tormented her as a child. Yet when he stood from the bed, stretching his arms
over his head, and his back muscles contorted, she fought the incredibly strong urge to tug him
back down.

He left her with the promise not to be long, but she had to eat, and she argued that she wasn’t
hungry. Only to be betrayed by her growling stomach. When he kissed her forehead, she had been
sitting at the edge of his bed with her legs tucked under her, and she had been wearing his white
oxford that she’d rather taken a liking to.

“Make yourself comfortable, sweetheart.” His fingers trailed against her naked calf, and the door
shut behind him.

Hermione hadn’t wanted him to leave, not one little bit, but it was made clear - by him - that if she
accompanied him to get takeaway, he would most certainly take her inside one of Diagon Alley’s
restaurants. She failed to see the problem with that, claiming there was no better way to show that
she was his than by spreading her legs and fucking her into the nearest vertical - or horizontal, she
wasn’t picky - surface.

With a tone that made her shiver, and her own need dripping down her legs, Draco had told her
“You have no idea how badly I want to take you into my arms and bite that sweet smelling mating
gland of yours.”

“Would you like to see if it tastes just as sweet?”

Taking a look around his room, at the ornate dresser, and shaking her head, she slid out of the bed.
Her bare feet padded against the carpeted floor as she made her way into the hallway, opening a
cupboard. At the sight of spare blankets and pillows, she smirked.

Hermione wouldn’t have long, but she wanted to surprise her Alpha. What better way to do so than
this? Stripping the bed over the blankets that were haphazardly thrown halfway onto the floor,
Hermione fluffed the pillows that were there, stretching across the bed to grab her wand. She hung
one of the larger sheets from the ceiling, creating a makeshift canopy before crawling inside of the
nest she’d made to make herself comfortable among the blankets.
Shrugging out of his shirt, and throwing it out of her space, Hermione leaned back against the mass
of pillows. Her fingers stroked slowly across her hardening nipples, her back arching against her
touch. Parting her legs, digging her heels into the mattress, Hermione reached between her legs.
She wasn’t disappointed at how slick she was, her lips swollen, and just the thought of how he felt
each time he slid into her seemed even better than the first.

She let her head fall back against the pillows, slowly rubbing her clit. It was absolutely nothing
compared to the touch she craved. Soft moans of his name fell from her parted lips, and her back
arched when she slid two fingers inside of herself.

“And just what are you doing?” Came a playful tone, and her fingers froze. A deep blush dusted
her cheeks as she cracked one eye open to see him pulling his tie from his neck. It didn’t make
sense to her why he’d even bothered dressing in a fine suit, with a silk tie when she was only going
to rip it of when he returned home.

Hermione liked to think that home was her.

“I think it was rather clear that I was touching myself, Alpha,” she smirked, moving onto her hands
and knees, crawling towards him. Sitting back on her feet, she reached up to undo his trousers.
Hermione leaned forward and pulled the zipper down with her teeth.

The breath he sucked in sounded more like a hiss. “And what is all of this?” He murmured, running
his fingers through her hair softly, massaging her scalp. And his tone told her that he knew exactly
what she had been up to.

Wide eyed, she told him coyly “You know what I want.”

“Why don’t you tell me anyway, sweetheart?” Draco’s hand reached down to spread her legs, one
finger sliding against her. It already felt so much better than her own touch.

She gasped, wrapping an arm around his neck and clinging to him. Thrilled when he picked her up,
cradling her closer to his warm body, she whispered in his ear. “I wanted a place for just you and
I,” Hermione nipped the skin below his ear, her tongue darting out. “Somewhere for you to take
care of me.”

And if it hadn’t already been clear to the Alpha holding this trembling Omega against him - it was
now. Hermione dug her heels into the bottom of his back, urging him closer to her, to the point
where she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. And then, she said the one thing that nearly
made him want to snap, and to bury his teeth into the gland his fingers hovered over.

“Somewhere for you to fill me with your knot, for you to mark me as yours.”

Draco shuddered, his fingers digging into her lovely hips made for his grip.

“Somewhere for you to get me pregnant.”

He growled “Granger,” it was a warning that she shoved away.

Hermione sighed, “I don’t want to be on the potion.” She told him, peppering kisses down her neck
as he laid her on the bed, and she was comforted by the nest of sorts she’d made. “I want you.”

“You have me,” he bit out, taking her breast in his mouth, and his fingers sinking into her. “I won’t
mark you, Hermione.”

She shook her head, her hands flinging out to dig into the sheets. “Why..?” It wasn’t something she
could control when her eyes filled with hot tears, but he moved slowly up her body, his hand
cupping her face and kissing her slowly. “Am I not enough?” She asked, her lower lip trembling.

Warnings flashed over his face. “I’m sure it seems so far away now, but I promised you I wouldn’t
claim you, sweetheart. I don’t make promises lightly. Believe me, you would regret it when this
was over.”

The salty tear that rolled down her face indicated she was sure that was a lie. “I can’t imagine not
wanting you. If you don’t want me, then just-”

He moved quickly, capturing her wrists and pinning them over her head. Draco’s lips were less
than an inch from hers, and his eyes were dark. “There is nothing I would like to do more than
mark you as mine. ”

“Then do it,” Hermione pleaded, rubbing herself against him. “Please, Draco, it would be so easy
to just-”

“What I want,” he hissed, rubbing his fingers over her wrists. “Is to make you mine, Hermione. Is
that what you want to hear? That I want you to be here when I come home every fucking day from
work? I want you and not just your cunt.”

“I’ve made you angry.” Hermione stated, and his anger tempered at her tears. “I didn’t mean to
trap you.”

He sighed, hanging his head. “Look at me,” Draco nudged her chin. “I’m going to take such good
care of you in the time we have left. And when you wake up from this - shh, believe me,
sweetheart, you are going to apparate out of here like a bat out of hell - I’ll find you, okay?”

She nodded. “Do you remember what I told you?”

“I’ll do my best to make you see reason,” he snorted. “You’re rather stubborn.”

Hermione moaned, her voice breaking, as he slid inside of her. Draco held her legs up, and even
though she could feel herself approaching a high that only he was able to take her to, there was a
hollowness in her chest.

Draco Malfoy understood that his time with her was going to end rather quickly. It was his
experience, granted it had only been one time, but when Astoria had been begging to be claimed as
his mate, it signaled that the heat was ending.

Granger slept over him, having fallen asleep immediately after the fifth, perhaps sixth, he’d lost
count at this point, coupling of the night. It was well into three a.m. now, and his knot was still
hard inside of her. Merlin help them both if she woke up coherent, and attempted to apparate while
he was still buried inside of her.

Outwardly, he cringed at the thought of it.

If the past three days had told him anything beyond the fact that it would be ridiculously easy to
fall for a swottish, bookish, know it all from Hogwarts, it was that he needed to speak with Neville
Longbottom immediately. He wasn’t so keen to speak with Looney, as half of the things she would
tell him would leave him with more questions than answers.

Hermione would be able to tell the moment she got away from him, and he pretended to not notice
how that thought physically hurt him. When he’d left to buy takeaway the second time, it was an
experiment more than anything. Heat Granger didn’t question it, but he already knew he was right.

Putting distance between them was going to hurt both of them, slowly at first, and then all of the
emotions amplified at once. Truth was that he’d already had the food in hand, but it was when he
felt her nesting that he’d been unable to stay away. She would have to come to the same conclusion
herself, and it was a small hope that it wouldn’t destroy him to wait in the process.

Knowing his time was about to run out was what made him stay awake, and when he was able to,
he lifted her off of his cock and tucked her into the curve of his body. His arm, heavy even still,
was draped across her body. But when five a.m. rolled around, he closed his eyes, pretending to be
asleep.

She rolled over, her curls threatening to smother him. “Oh, my Gods,” she whispered in a panic,
scooting away from him carefully.

It took all he had not to smirk. Not that he enjoyed this, in fact it felt like being gutted by serious
magic at work. Yet her emotions were running too high for her to notice. Granger slid out of the
bed, moving quietly around the room to grab her clothes.

Still, it was a surprise when she murmured “I’m sorry for when you wake up, Draco.” Hermione
ran her fingers along his bicep, and then was gone with a loud crack.

Groaning, and raking his fingers through his hair, Draco rolled onto his back. He told himself it
was a good thing she still called him by his first name.

Fighting the urge to chase after her, he told himself that he gave it three days before she confronted
him.

The idiot was going to accuse him of bewitching her, he fucking knew it already.
 Chapter Five
Chapter Notes

I hadn’t planned to update this soon, but here we are. I love all of you so much, and
can’t wait to hear what you think after you read this. :)

To the person who made it a point to tell me they didn’t want the letters to stop, here
you go. To the person who asked for a oneshot of Neville/Hermione in Hogwarts, I
want you to remember you asked for it when I drop a massive oneshot because I want
to write them too.

Part Five

She couldn’t breathe.

Hermione Granger had found herself in the lobby of St. Mungo’s three days after she’d apparated
from Malfoy’s flat in London. It had been her fear that her suppressants had failed, or perhaps she
was having an adverse reaction to the contraceptive potion - a potion that had been specially
brewed for her while she was still at Hogwarts.

She panicked at the thought of said potion failing, and she feared a healer was moments from
telling her she should prepare for a child. Her heart felt as if she was going to burst, and that was
the moment she’d collapsed against the floor.

Waking under the bright lights of a hospital room, beneath the faces of her closest friends, she
thought she was in more trouble than she was. Yet when a healer finally came into the room, she
learned there was nothing wrong with her at all. Physically at least.

She was in prime health, and they brushed over the basics. When was your last heat? Have you had
any new partners? And then the most shocking - diagnostic spells have found the trace of an old
magic. How familiar are you with the soulmate charm?
Sitting in her flat now, she stared at Luna who explained that there was another aspect of the
matching spell, but it wasn’t one she had used with Hermione, or with Draco Malfoy for that
matter. Neville and Ginny’s eyes had widened as Hermione revealed who she’d spent her heat
with, but slowly, the facts seemed to come together.

Her heat had come earlier, striking her head on nearly immediately after she had passed Malfoy in
the atrium that fateful morning. Luna theorized it was because of the soulmate bond taking place,
and it had pushed them together as quickly as possible. It was a stroke of bad luck - or good
depending on when you asked Hermione for her opinion - that her soulmate had been in the same
room when she had stormed in to confront Ron.

Luna told her that she would have gone to him even if it hadn’t happened. It was like playing with
fire for them to have been in the same building, or even within the same blasted ten mile radius.
Whatever this magic was, it was old, and it was powerful, and it had been used for centuries in the
ceremonial weddings of Purebloods.

“Why wasn’t I told this was being a part of the matching, Luna?” Hermione’s voice was weak. “I
know it wasn’t meant to be used with me, I understand that, I just -”

Ginny chimed in, placing her hand on Hermione’s knee. “It will be okay, Hermione. There must be
a way to reverse the magic, right?”

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, and Hermione shook her head. “I feel like my heart is
being ripped from inside of me when I’m away from him.” She swallowed, pushing her friends
hand from her knee. “Just thinking of undoing this makes me feel like I’m going to suffocate.”
Hermione’s hand flew to her throat as she coughed.

Luna nodded while Neville looked apologetic at her side. “Do you want us to see if it’s possible to
undo the charm?” He asked her, and she shook her head quickly. “Then you need to see him,
Hermione. Or you’re going to make yourself sick.”

She winced. “I ran away from him. How can I just show up like it’s nothing?”

Neville reached out for her, and she reeled back as if his touch would burn her. He sighed,
motioning towards her. “This is why you need to go to him. This,” he waved his hand between
them. “Will happen with every man that tries to touch you, platonic or not. And if Malfoy is
anywhere near you he’s going to maul that man.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m not - I’m not his!” She spluttered. Her cheeks heated up as she
remembered that she had told him exactly the opposite. She felt like she’d been made for him, and
Hermione could vividly recall how she had begged for him to claim her.

“You and I both know that’s not true, Hermione.” Neville told her quietly. The other two girls had
quieted down, staring at him, listening to him as his designation shined through. The soft, but firm
tone that quieted Hermione down.

And it made her want to apparate to the place she needed to be.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered.

“ Don’t lie to me, or yourself, Hermione Granger.” He ordered, his voice like velvet. “Take a
moment, and think back to your last year in Hogwarts. I took care of you, and I was never
possessive of you afterwards. Not with Ron, not when Cormac McLaggen tried to ask you to a
ball.”

“We were friends; it was a chance thing, Neville.” She protested.

He snorted. “Luna and I were friends. After the first time we spent together, and she wasn’t in her
heat yet, Terry Boot groped her arse in the corridor and I sent him to St. Mungo’s. Hermione, love,
you need to listen to us. The point here is that you weren’t attached to me because there was
nothing there for the future.”

“I don’t know that there’s anything for me in the future with Draco.”

He laughed and wrapped an arm around Luna’s shoulders. “Tell me if you would have called him
Draco if you thought that.”

She bristled. “I can be polite. Considering he fucked me sixty ways from Sunday, I think the two of
us are on a first name basis now.”

Ginny gaped at her, giggling to herself while she brought her knees to her chest. “Isn’t the saying
six ways from Sunday?”
Hermione glared at her. “I meant what I said.”

“If you don’t send him some sort of letter, I will.” Neville warned her. “I’ll deliver it even. You
need him just as much as he needs you - and trust me, he’s dying. It seems the Alpha side has it
worse than an Omega.”

Hermione’s hand clenched into a fist. “Is he okay?” Her question was tentative, and she wouldn’t,
couldn’t make eye contact with Neville. “I don’t know how much of this pain is mine, and how
much of it is his.”

Neville ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “He asked me not to share anything with you.
Malfoy doesn’t want you to return to him just because-”

“ Tell me. ” Hermione hissed. Ginny scrambled away from her at the sound. “Neville, I swear I’ll-”

“He’s wrecked.” Neville told her, putting his free hand up in front of him as she nearly came across
the coffee table. “Hermione, he’s fucked. He came to me if that tells you anything. The two of us
aren’t close at all, and he came to me to ask if you were okay. He felt when you collapsed in St
Mungo’s and it took all of his self control to not show up on your doorstep.”

She swallowed, casting a look down towards her feet. “You don’t think he’s angry with me? Why
would you need to deliver it? I have a perfectly good owl.”

He smiled at her as if he were holding in a laugh. “I fear if I’m not there to stop him, you will end
up with Draco Malfoy at your door. If that’s not what you want..”

She nodded. “Okay, just give me a moment.” Hermione stood from the couch, walking all too
quickly to her bedroom and grabbed a quill and scrap of paper. It was a simple note, and after
pressing it into Neville’s waiting hand, she was left wondering what Malfoy would have to say.

If he had anything to say at all.

He jumped when a knock on the door came, and he took a spare moment to make himself not look
like he’d been brooding in silence for nearly a week. Which he had been, and he’d torn his flat
apart several times before fixing it, and wrecking his furniture once more. It was a vicious cycle,
and he was rather certain he was approaching the end of his self control.

The entire flat smelled like her, like the vanilla body wash she used, like the sweat that had
languidly rolled down her body as he fucked her over and over and over again. He craved her.

So when there was a knock at the door, even though he knew it wasn’t her, he hoped it was.
Instead he let the door swing open to show Neville Longbottom, who thrust a piece of parchment in
his face. “You’re welcome, Malfoy, but I’m here to make sure you don’t storm off to her flat.”

Draco blinked, taking the paper from his outstretched hand eagerly. “I don’t even know where she
lives.” At the incredulous look he received, he grumbled. “So maybe I do; it’s only for..reasons.”

Neville scoffed. “It took some convincing, but she’s a logical person, so I used her experience in
the past to make her see reason.”

Draco nodded, clenching the note in his hand impatiently. “Right, there was some bloke she was
with during her first heat is what she told me. Out of curiosity, do you know who he was?”

The man opposite Draco froze. “She didn’t..tell you?” Draco shook his head. “Well, this is
awkward.”

“Who was it? I know it wasn’t Weasley since he’s a beta. Was it Potter?”

Neville chuckled. “No, actually, it was me.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “You?”

“It was, but if you try to attack me for something that happened years ago, I’ll knock the shite out
of you.” Neville warned. “Thanks to auror training that you paid for.”

“Fuck off, Longbottom. How exactly did you use logic to convince her then? If you brought up
fucking her, I want to know about it.”

Neville turned towards the door, his fingers wrapping around the door knob. “It was nothing. She’s
attached to you, and she’s a mess, Malfoy. I’ve never seen someone in so much pain besides you.
Regardless, I reminded her that we weren’t attached to the other after that.”

“She’s in pain?” Draco looked towards the floo. “Would she see-”

“Not yet, Malfoy. Don’t even try it. Just read her letter, and reply to her. Start small before you
fuck it all up.” The door closed behind him and the lock clicked into place.

He sat on the sofa, another place that smelled just like her, and flashes of him lifting her to straddle
his waist went through his mind. The letter was a simple one, and his heart clenched, and he
gnashed his teeth together as he tugged it open.

Draco, I can’t begin to understand what’s happened. Luna tells me it’s old magic, some sort of
soulmate charm that Purebloods used in marriage ceremonies. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it
has.

And Gods, I just miss you so much. It physically hurts.

Hermione was curled up on her sofa with a worn out copy of a Muggle novel when there was a
peck at her window. Glancing up she saw an unfamiliar owl, and realised it must have been
Malfoy’s personal owl. Scalding tea sloshed against her hand as she set her cup down rather
harshly. She left her book open, facedown on the table, and the fact she’d left the spine to bend
showed just how distracted she was.

Wrenching the window open, the black owl hopped in and perched on the bookshelf below the
window. Taking the letter from his leg, she opened it, and leaned against the shelf. “There are
some treats in the kitchen.” She told the large owl quietly, stroking the top of his head. He flew
across her living room.

Thank Merlin you finally wrote me. I thought I was going to go insane. I’ve torn my flat apart.
Are you alright? Longbottom said you collapsed in St. Mungo’s a few days ago. I wanted to visit
you, but I thought staying away until you wished to speak to me would be better.

She definitely didn’t hold the letter to her chest.

I’m mostly fine now. It was merely a lot to take in after leaving your flat. I couldn’t understand why
I felt so sick after leaving you. At first I thought my contraceptive potion had failed, but as it turns
out, it’s just that you’re my soulmate.

That wasn’t funny, was it? Forgive me, I’m trying to make light of this in order to make myself feel
better.

The only problem I’ve truly had was that Ron realized exactly what happened in the training room
last week, and I’m preparing for when he tries to confront me about my relationships.

Fuck, talking to you has taken this weight off of my shoulders.

Fuck Weasley.

I missed you as well, sweetheart. I wanted to see you, but Longbottom reminded me that it would be
a foolish thing to do.
I just don’t know where you want to go from here.

I want to know you. The thought of searching for a way to reverse this cuts me so deeply. Draco, I
don’t know you all that well. Which is ludicrous because I know every inch of you. Would you be
willing to have dinner with me?

I suppose I should have asked if you wanted to reverse this first. If you do, then I wouldn’t stand in
the way of that.

Being without you has felt like being without air, so no, I don’t want to return to a life where I
don’t know you. It hardly seems like a life I would want at all if I don’t know what it’s like to feel
you beneath me, clinging to me. I want all of you, Granger. Your dreams, your fears, your
pleasure.

Mine.

Possessive.

X
You have no idea. Are you available this Friday for dinner? And perhaps tomorrow morning for
breakfast? I’m visiting France for a few days. While I’ll be back by Friday, I can’t stand the
thought of not seeing you.

Say yes, sweetheart.

Yes, come by my flat tomorrow morning. Neville told me you know where I live. It gave me a laugh.

Goodnight, Draco.

Hermione had fallen asleep on her couch before the last letter returned to her, and the owl dropped
it on her chest before tugging the light blanket over her chest with its beak.
 Chapter Six
Chapter Notes

Hi! :)

When Hermione had told him to come by her flat, she realized there was a very real possibility that
they would end up stumbling into her bedroom while scrambling to rip the others clothes off. It
should have bothered her, but she found herself waking up earlier than normal to carefully select of
pair of knickers. Pulling the black lace flush against her arse, she grabbed the matching bra, and
wore a black dress.

Her robes were loose around her shoulders, and as she sat in her kitchen, she wasn’t sure whose
nerves she felt. It could have been hers, considering she was chewing her nails down to the nub, as
she looked at herself in the mirror for the upteenth time. It might have been his, but she wasn’t sure
who was suffering the most.

For a moment, she feared he wouldn’t come by, and the soulmate bond between them was nothing
but a mistake the universe had made at her expense. But then there were three short knocks on her
front door, and panic clawed its way back to the forefront. Sliding off of the stool, she smoothed
her dress down and took a deep breath before opening the door. “Hi,” she murmured, letting the
door swing open so he could step inside. “I was worried - why are you staring at me like that?”

His eyes roamed over every inch of her, and he set the flowers he’d brought - a cliche move, but it
made her heart pound - on the table beside the entry way. “If I kiss you, will you smack me?”
Draco’s lips were curved into a smirk, and her breath caught.

“I can’t think of anything better actually.” Hermione told him.

His hands came up to cup her face as he walked her back towards the kitchen, the small of her back
bumping against the edge of the island. Malfoy’s lips were soft, and she wondered if they had been
as bruised as hers in the last week. If she had stuck around, would he have seemed as flushed as
her?

Hermione’s fingers tangled in his hair, completely fucking up what he had just styled, and she
pulled him closer, whimpers tumbling from her lips. If staying apart made her want him, it was
nothing compared to the way she wanted to lead him to her bed now. “I don’t want to fuck,” she
muttered, her fingers sliding down along his jaw. “I’d like to get to know you first.”
He laughed, his chest vibrating against hers as he set her on top of the counter. “I’m not going to
fuck you, not yet at least.” He kissed her once more, gripping her waist before pulling away from
her.

“Not yet? You seem rather sure of yourself,” Hermione smiled, staying in her spot on top of the
counter. “Oh, you’ve smudged my lipstick,” she muttered, plucking her wand from the countertop.

“I wouldn’t fix that yet,” Draco told her, lifting the two cups of tea from beside the sink, holding
one out to her. “It would be a waste of time to fix it when I’m going to mess it up before we leave
this flat.” He was smirking, and he leaned against the edge next to her. Before she could reply
sarcastically, he asked her, “Why were you at St. Mungo’s?”

A nervous laugh bubbled up, and she let her hair fall into her face as she clutched her cup. “I
thought my potions had failed, and I was pregnant.”

Malfoy spluttered, spitting his tea out before sniggering loudly, the hot liquid seeping into his
white button up below his suit. “Merlin, Granger, that’s not how -”

She cut him off, her cheeks flaming. “I’m bloody well aware that it was ridiculous. It would have
been an impossibility for me to already know, but you must understand the kind of pain I was in.”

He sobered up, his fingers finding her inner thigh as his thumb pressed against it, rubbing in
soothing circles. “What was it like for you? I thought I was going to die. It felt as if my heart was
going to give out, which I learned was when you collapsed.”

Hermione’s eyes widened at his description. “Well,” she began. “I thought I was pregnant.” She
said dryly. “Neville would not stop laughing at me when I told him, but it felt like my chest kept
getting tighter.”

“Did that happen the day you went?” She nodded. “It was probably the distance; I was in France
that day, and I nearly flooed to St. Mungo’s, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Her nose crinkled. “So, if I’m too far away from you, that’s going to happen every single time? I
think the fuck not.”
He snorted. “Lovegood - Longbottom, whatever she prefers told me it was because of the distance.
If we were mated, that wouldn’t happen.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “Where did you learn that? I’ve bought every last book that could have
told me that, and made one very uncomfortable trip to Knockturn - if you haven’t heard, the entire
Wizarding World knows I’m an Omega now,”

Draco moved just as she blinked, standing in between her thighs with his hands gripping her waist
tightly. “I saw the headlines; I had Skeeter fired. Tell me more about this trip to Knockturn Alley.”
His eyes had grown dark as he peered down at her, brushing her hair to the side as if he were
inspecting her for bruises.

“I stupefied Adrian Pucey, but it was nothing more than a few crass words he said to me.” She
murmured, scourgufying his shirt with wandless, and non-verbal magic. “There is no need to
confront him.” Though the thought of it made her want to wrap her legs around his waist, and tell
him to carry her to the bedroom.

Fucking Omega traits.

“What did he say?” Draco said through gritted teeth.

She shuddered as he cupped her neck, his fingers mistakenly brushing the mating gland there.
Hermione whimpered, her fingers fisting in his shirt. “Unless you plan to mark me, don’t touch
that.” She told him, burying her face in his chest.

“I’m not,” he told her, but with the unevenness of his breathing, Hermione wasn’t so sure he could
control himself. “Sweetheart, I need you tell me what Pucey said to you. I’m not going to allow
someone to harass you, no matter how well you can protect yourself.”

“He told me he’d always wanted a pet Mudblood,” she cringed. “And that I would be a good
Omega whore for him, and Draco, you mustn't do anything to him. If they threw you in Azkaban,
I’m not sure what I would do.”

“I’m sure they would allow conjugal visits when I nearly ripped out a guard’s throat.” He said
darkly.
Hermione looked at him in horror. “Or you could just not go to Azkaban at all? I don’t fancy
fucking you with an audience. I hexed him too, I’m positive he’s still walking funny.” She moved
to kiss him on the cheek, but he turned his head and kissed her hard.

“Bloody good thing we didn’t meet in public,” he muttered. He was right.

It was a miracle she hadn’t been late to work, and it was Draco’s doing that the pair of them
apparated into the atrium with time to spare. Several of the Ministry’s employees looked to them in
mild surprise; yes, it had been outed to the entirety of their world that she was an Omega, which
was seemingly breaking news if you asked Rita Skeeter. The one thing they didn’t know was if she
was with anyone, and the sight of the Malfoy heir beside her - well, she would have been surprised
too.

Of course, this was a place of professionalism, and her colleagues had the decency not to ask her
about it. All of them except for one.

Ron stormed into her office just before lunch, his yelling drawing the attention of the entire floor.
“You’re fucking Malfoy?” He roared, knocking a stack of papers from her desk. “Did you
miraculously forget what a prick he is?”

Hermione swallowed, keeping her mouth closed before she cast a hex she wouldn't be able to take
back. Donning her coat that hung over her chair, she prepared to meet with Draco for lunch. He’d
sent her a letter a hour earlier, from his own owl this time, to ask her to eat with him before he left
the country for a few days.

“My personal life is none of your business.” She told him, pulling the strap of her handbag over her
shoulder.

“None of my business? This is the same bloke that called you a filthy Mudblood,” Ron found
himself with his lips still moving, but no sound came from them.

Draco leaned against the doorframe, his suit jacket gone, and his sleeves rolled up. Hermione
wanted to drag him inside and cast a silencing charm. “I was waiting in the atrium, but I thought I
would come and get you. It’s a good thing I did, isn’t it?”

Ron glared at him, and though his fingers twitched towards his wand, he didn’t grab it.
Hermione sighed. “No dueling in my office.”

“Afraid that’s not how it works, sweetheart.” Draco growled, his arm sneaking around her waist. “I
could kill you, Weasley.” He said lowly, leaning forward at eye level. “I wouldn’t need my wand
at all, just my hands. You’d do well to remember what an Alpha can do when his mate is
threatened.”

“I’m not,” Hermione rolled her eyes, but her belly tightened at the way he spoke of her. “And there
will be no killing either.”

“You’re not, no,” he told her gently, “given the circumstances though, you’ll have to forgive me if
I speak as if you are. It’s that simple for me.” Draco spoke quietly to her, watching from the corner
of his eye as Ron stormed out, his face as red as his hair.

Her mouth dried. She had a suspicious inkling her legs would be weak when she returned to work
in an hour.

She was right. Hermione grabbed his hand, and shook her head, dragging him to the floo in her
office. Grabbing a handful of floo powder, and pressing it into his hand, she told him to meet her in
her flat. She went through first, stepping away from the fireplace as she waited for the mere
seconds to pass.

When Draco came through, his hands were already on her, sneaking into her hair . He kissed her
roughly, nipping her bottom lip, and walking her backwards towards the sofa. “So fucking angry.”
He muttered, ripping her dress open at the zipper with the weak explanation that she could change.

“Then everyone will know I left for,” Hermione moaned when his hands kneaded her breasts
through her bra. “Fuck, okay, I don’t care.”

He grinned as he turned her so her back was flush against his chest, and his arms locked around her
while he bit where her shoulder met her neck. The pleasure made her legs buckle, but he held her
against him. “You’re not in heat this time,” he whispered into her neck, sitting on the couch, and
pulling her into his lap.
Her back was still to him, and he reached down to spread her legs, draping them over the sides of
his legs. Hermione slumped against him, breathing heavily as he vanished her already ruined
knickers with his wand. “I don’t know if that even matters,” Hermione keened as his fingers
brushed her clit. “I feel like I’m on fire regardless.”

It was surely another effect of this bond that had culminated between them, and she was not
prepared for what he told her next. “Don’t come,” he bit her earlobe, his fingers swiping across her
clit. “Not until I tell you.”

At first, she thought it would be easy. She’d had her problems with finishing in the past, but this
wasn’t the same situation. It was him, and with the way he touched her, Hermione was certain it
wasn’t possible. “Why?” She whined instead, her back arching when his finger slid inside of her,
curling.

He nuzzled her neck. “I want to hear you beg.” Draco chuckled at her squeak. “It’ll make it that
much better when you come over my fingers, screaming, and exhausted. I told you I wasn’t going
to fuck you, and I’m not, but you’ll wish I had.” Draco tugged her bra down, exposing her breasts
while he pinched her nipple, dragging a gasp from her.

“Draco,” Hermione wasn’t prepared for the way she trembled beneath him, or the way her legs
shook as his fingers moved faster, and she was nearly, nearly there, and she told him so, and then -
nothing. “No,” she whimpered, attempting to drag his hand back to her dripping cunt. “Oh, please,
Draco.”

His lips brushed the mating gland, laving it gently. “Oh, fuck . Hermione, I wasn’t thinking.”

She didn’t bloody care because the only thing she could think of was what it would feel like if he
sunk his teeth into her right now while she rode his fingers. Certain it would cause her to orgasm
immediately, Hermione imagined what it would be like to be taking his cock while he claimed her.
“I’m not upset,” she gasped. “It feels too good, and I don’t trust myself. You could make it up to
me by making me come.”

Two fingers slid into her hard, and fast before he backed off again. “I think not.” Each time he
brought her right to the edge, and she would hiss, bucking against his fingers, and then he would
slow down. Draco didn’t come near her neck again for fear of losing control, and in quiet tones, he
told her how sweet she had tasted under his tongue.

Hermione watched the clock as the minutes dragged by, and after twenty minutes, she cracked.
“Can I please come?” She whispered, laying her head on his shoulder and looking up at him.
“No?” Her voice cracked. “For Merlin’s sake, please, Draco.”

That fucking smirk still on his face he shook his head. “I want to hear you beg, and no, love, that’s
not begging.”

“Please, Alpha,” his eyes were stormy as she whined. “I can’t come unless you give me
permission,” she shrieked as he rubbed her clit faster, applying pressure while she attempted to
form a sentence. “I just, ah, want to please you.” Whether he chose to take pity on her, or her
begging had worked, Draco shifted.

He left her to sit with her back against the pillows while he sank to his knees in front of her. Parting
her legs and letting them rest on her shoulders, he lowered his mouth to her pussy. His tongue slid
up her slit, flicking her clit while he thrust two fingers into her. It took practically nothing beyond
the “Come for me, I want to taste you,” for Hermione’s back to arch while her legs trembled.

Toying with her nipples, and pinching the sensitive buds, she whimpered his name, scooting
forward from the couch, and sliding to the floor. “We still have thirty minutes,” Hermione told
him, pushing him to lay on her carpet while she straddled his waist, undoing his trousers. “And
you wearing a suit does things to me.”

He grinned, and she was disappointed to say that he did keep his promise to not fuck her.
 Chapter Seven
Chapter Notes

I'm here to do my usual thing and update all of my stories at the same time, lol.
Wanderlust will be up in an hour or so. I can't wait to hear what you all think!

“Do you think it’s possible to miss someone before they’ve even left?” Hermione murmured,
tracing the scar that stretched over his chest. “This is absurd.” Her nose crinkled as he laughed,
relaxing against her couch. “Three days seems like an awful long time; I might have to get an
international portkey for you to fuck me.”

Draco choked on his laugh, and he rubbed circles in her back. “You’ll be alright.” His voice was
low in her ear. “Having dinner together probably helped, and I’ll write you.” He tilted her face up
to kiss her.

“Ah, yes, the letters. If anything, I’ll want to rush to Germany even more with your filthy words.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed when he chuckled, and she swatted him in the chest. “Do you have any
idea how this bond formed?”

Draco shrugged. “I have an idea on who could have caused it, yes.” He pulled her into his lap,
moving her to straddle his waist. Despite returning to work, she had invited him over again, and he
had to say, he preferred her in just her knickers, and one of his shirts. “Don’t worry about it,
Granger. I haven’t discussed it with her, but you’ll be the first person I tell once i know for sure.”

She tapped his nose, a comical thing really, given that she would have sooner punched him a
month ago. “Or you could tell me now,” she rolled her hips, arching an eyebrow at his groan. “I
prefer that option.”

“Do you?” He asked, his hands sliding up her sides. “Are you trying to coerce me with your
feminine wiles?”

She snorted, falling forward to muffle her laugh in his shoulder. “Feminine wiles?” She managed
between gasps. “That’s fair, but I don’t see why..” Hermione pressed her lips along his neck,
nipping the skin softly.

“I’d like to actually take you to dinner before fucking you again,” he muttered, gripping her hips to
keep her from grinding against him again. “But you are testing my self control.”

“Clearly not enough.”

“You Witch.”

“How observant,” Hermione moaned when his fingers moved against her clit through her knickers.

His suspicion was right, not that he was surprised, and he realized as much when he found his
mother leaning nonchalantly against his kitchen counter, glass of wine in hand. “I can only imagine
where you’ve been. How is Miss Granger? I haven’t seen her since -”

“Mother,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, but he couldn’t hide the smile from his face either. “I
don’t even know how you managed this.”

She sipped from her glass quietly. “How is she?”

“Bloody perfect, if you’d really like to know. She couldn’t irritate me if she tried, and I threatened
to murder Ronald Weasley today at the Ministry.” He undid his tie, which was askew from
Hermione’s obsession with it - at least when he was wearing it. “How did you make this happen?”

A slow smile tilted her lips up, and she set her nearly empty glass on the counter. “It’s an old spell.
I found it in Lucius’ study. He mentioned it to me after you were first born, and before he was
sentenced to Azkaban. However, I didn’t cause the two of you to bond. That was fate.”

Draco snorted. “Right, because you wouldn’t have wanted me to be with a Muggleborn?”

She turned her nose up at him. “I’ve grown tired of those ideologies. They caused me to become
social pariah, and to lose my husband. All I knew was that you’d signed up for this little service,
and I cast a spell to cause that letter to go your perfect match.” She gave a small shrug. “The spell
is ancient, so it took some modification, but I’d say it worked out, wouldn’t you?”

He rolled his eyes. “She’s going to have a nervous breakdown when I leave for Germany, or that’s
what I’m concerned about.”

“Hermione Granger is a well put together young woman.”

“When the pain from our first separation started, she thought she was pregnant. It’s safe to assume
this is far out of her comfort zone.”

She clasped her hands in front of her, trying to contain her laughter. “Ah, well then. I was only
coming by to check in on you. It was in the Daily Prophet of course, but I wanted to see for myself.
You look happier than I remember.” Narcissa stepped forward to hug her son, squeezing him
tightly. “Be safe in Germany. When you come back, I want you to bring her for dinner at the
manor.”

“I’ll discuss it with her.”

His mother apparated out, and he didn’t hear the pecking on the window at first. A grin crossing
his face, he let her owl in, taking the parcel from it, and opening the jar of treats.

Draco,

This is torture, I want you to know. I’m not a patient woman.

Draco snorted, imagining her laying on the couch with a book open, but with her eyes darting
towards her floo every few seconds. Though if she were to come stumbling through his wards right
then, he couldn’t say he wouldn’t lead her to the bedroom. The hollowness that he’d felt when he
was away from her had dulled into a barely there ache, but it seemed, it was worse for her.

He shrugged out of his suit jacket while he made his way into his bedroom, pulling a quill from its
ink pot and wrote a reply.
Hermione,

I know, isn’t it awful to imagine this time a week ago, I had you under me, and begging for more?

Prick,

You are the worst, the absolute worst. However will you make it up to me?

Sweetheart,

I promise I’ll make it up to you when I’m back from this trip.

A few days was an awfully long time when it was your soulmate you were apart from. Soulmate.
She’d accepted it for what it was, the truth. Even though it wasn’t how she’d imagined her life
going, the pull was undeniable, and well, she had talked herself out of taking an international
portkey to Germany more than once.

She was avoiding Ron, or he was avoiding her. She wasn’t sure, but given the fact that Draco had
threatened to tear him limb from limb, she supposed she had an answer. Each time she left her
office at the Ministry, there was a letter waiting for her on her desk when she returned. Having
passed the awkward beginning, he now used his own owl, and that owl was usually sitting in her
chair whenever she returned.
She really needed to start leaving the treats out for him.

Draco’s latest letter was short.

Hermione,

Never travel out of the country. The separation is worse, and I feel like a sap.

She snorted, crushing the letter to her chest before plucking a quill from the stand on her desk.
Hermione had the inkling he was probably semi working, and while he might not be here, that
didn’t mean she couldn’t tease him.

Draco,

I somehow doubt I could ever travel out of the country without you being with me - whether I liked
it or not. Anyway, I’d like to tell you something. I dreamed of you last night.

His next reply came after she had flooed home, kicked off her heels, and peeled her blouse off. She
preferred her baggy sweatshirt, no matter how ratty it looked. Throwing herself onto the couch, and
propping her feet up on the coffee table, but only after she’d left the window open, and turned the
telly open, Hermione let herself relax against the cushions.

His owl swept into the room, making a mess of the documents she’d left out on the table, and
perched at her feet, looking at her curiously. “Are you sick of seeing me yet?” She laughed,
leaning forward to pet the top of his head while taking the parcel from him.

Hermione,

You simply can’t tell me that, and then not finish your train of thought. It’s hardly fair. What did
you dream of, sweetheart? Did you think of how well my cock stretches you when I slide into you?
Or maybe how my tongue feels against your slick folds?

Would you like to know something? I can’t fucking get you out of my head, nor would I want to, but
it’s all I can think of when I’m alone in my hotel room - having you bent over below me while I
fuck you raw. And my hand is nothing compared to you, and I can’t bloody wait to be home.

Hermione fanned herself with the parchment, peeking over her shoulder to see his owl having
pulled the lid of the jar off, and she winced as she saw it fall to the floor, shattering. He ruffled his
feathers and stuck his face into the jar while he perched on the countertop.

She needed Draco to return to her immediately, because she couldn't stand it. Maybe the soulmate
bond did amplify her emotions, but it couldn’t create something from nothing. It wouldn’t be hard
for her to get an international portkey, and really, she had plenty of vacation time, but it was more
the fact that she was worried she’d seem incredibly needy if she even mentioned it.

Not that it stopped her. Scooting off of the couch, Hermione grabbed the Muggle pen that was
sitting in the middle of the table, and penned a response.

Draco,

It’s with the knowledge that I might embarrass myself if you reject me, that I even mention this. I
miss you terribly. I have always thought of myself as patient, but I would just..I would love to see
you. I know you’re due back tomorrow, and I could stand to wait another sixteen hours.

But maybe you miss me as well? Reading all of the things you want to do to me, which I so badly
want to feel, this time while I’m not in heat - I can’t help but want to grab the first international
port key, and show up on your doorstep.

His owl took off, and Hermione waited. Obviously the response time would be delayed, given the
fact he was in another country, but that did nothing to calm her anxiety. Hermione slid her joggers
off, and lounged on her couch. She’d read over his words more than once, sighing because she
certainly was not the type of girl who gushed over love letters.

Perhaps that was because she’d never had one though. Her lower stomach was throbbing, and she
slid her fingers into her knickers, finding her folds already slick. “Fuck,” she murmured. He held a
certain amount of power over her with just his words, the ability to paint a filthy picture of just how
he wanted her. And Merlin, she couldn’t think of anything better than being exactly where he
wanted her.

Hermione was no fool. Though Omegas were at the bottom of the proverbial food chain, she had
the power over Draco Malfoy, and he would do anything she wanted. Alphas rarely told their mates
no, and for all intensive purposes, she was his mate. In theory at least, but at this point, she
couldn’t say she would be upset if he marked her.

And she wasn’t in heat anymore. It was of her own free will that she fantasized of his bicep flexing
against the top of her chest as he held her to him tightly, and took her as his own. Moving her
fingers against her clit slowly, she whimpered, adjusting herself against the arm of the couch while
she parted her legs.

She was dripping, and she was nearly there when his fucking owl flew into her living room,
dropped a letter directly on her immodestly, and flew across her flat for more treats. Snatching the
envelope off of her face, she glared at the owl. “You won’t be able to fly such long distances if you
keep eating so much!”

She ripped the letter open, a small trinket falling into her lap. It looked like an old ring, one that
you might find for cheap in a shop. Hermione looked at the letter while reaching for the rusted
ring, and the world distorted. Much like Apparition, she felt like she was being sucked through a
tube at first, but then the world spun.

If Draco had transported her into a nice restaurant in the middle of Wizarding Germany while she
was in a jumper, and no fucking knickers, she was going to kill him.

“A little underdressed, aren’t you?” Came his voice as she landed in a room, his hotel room
thankfully. “Gods, are you not even wearing knickers?” He groaned, and then his fingers twined in
her hair, and he kissed her.

Hermione’s back met the wall and she clutched the front of his suit. “You are so lucky I didn’t land
in an upscale restaurant.” She murmured, jumping up to wrap her legs around his waist.
“Yes, it would have been rather awkward if I fucked you over a table, wouldn’t it?” Draco drawled,
carrying her while he sat at the foot of his bed, and draped her over his lap. “I believe I told you
that I wanted to take you on a proper date before -”

Hermione took his hand, sliding it between them, and pressing his fingers to her cunt. “I know
what you said, and I know what I said.” She whispered. “However, I just don’t give a fuck
anymore. I need you Draco.”

Clutching the strands of her curls between his fingers, he nodded, pressing his lips to hers softly,
and gently rubbing the sensitive bud. Taking her cries for his own, his erection hardened in his
trousers. “Take your top off for me, Hermione.”

Reaching down, Hermione pulled the hem of her shirt over her head, tossing it to the carpet before
unclasping her bra. He captured one nipple in his mouth, his tongue swiping across it, and suckled
it. “Draco,” she moaned, rocking against him, and riding his hand. “I need -”

He shifted her, laying her down on the bed while her hair fell across the pillows. “I can’t fucking
believe you’re here.” He said softly, running his fingers over her soft skin, leaning down to drag
his tongue between her breasts. “You’re absolutely sure?”

She nodded desperately. Hermione felt as if she was going to combust, and she crawled to her
knees to undo his tie, and tear his shirt open, the buttons scattering everywhere. Draco pushed his
trousers off, his clothes joining hers on the floor before he hovered over her once more. “Please, no
more foreplay, I just want-”

He nodded, cutting her off by lifting her legs to rest over his shoulders, reaching down to be sure
she was ready for him even though she already knew she was soaked. Draco thrust forward, slowly
sliding inside of her with each thrust.

Her eyes widened, and her elbows dug into the mattress as he stuffed his cock inside of her. “Oh,
my fucking Gods.” She gasped, her hands flying up to dig her fingers into her own hair as her back
arched. Having spent three days completely out of her fucking mind, Hermione honestly thought
she might have imagined how thick he was, and how good he felt when he split her open.

“Fuck,” he growled, sliding all the way into her, and turning his head to kiss her calf, moving
slowly against her.
So slowly that she was breathless, and couldn’t help but whimper for him to please move faster. “I
won’t break,” she whimpered.

He chuckled under his breath. “So impatient.” Draco mused. “Harder?”

Hermione nodded. “Please.” She gasped when he slammed into her, her hand flying out to clutch
the sheets. “Draco!” She screamed, writhing under his touch when he pressed his thumb against
her clit. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.” She whimpered, her head rolling to the side.

He muttered that he wouldn’t last as long if he fucked her this hard, and she retorted that she didn’t
bloody care. He smirked, whispering to her just how pretty she looked when she trembled under
him as she came, her back arching, and her tits shaking.

Draco pulled out of her, his fingertips brushing her clit once more as he laid beside her. “This is a
pleasant surprise.” He murmured, wrapping one of her curls around his finger before letting it go.

Hermione grinned, throwing her leg over his and moving closer to him. “I didn’t want to wait, and
technically tomorrow is an off day for me anyway.” While she normally would have gone into the
Ministry to lessen her workload for the following week, they were renovating her floor, and she
could stay home if she liked.

“I’m not complaining.” He said, his fingers moving along her side. “I had something to tell you,
but I thought I would have to wait until I was home. It was my mother who caused all of this.” He
motioned between them.

“Oh?” She let him pull her closer while he laid on his back, and she laid her head on his naked
chest. “What does she think of us then?”

He shrugged. “If she was shocked, she didn’t show it. She wants you to come to the Manor for
dinner soon.”

Hermione stilled from tracing a scar on his chest, and she lifted her head to look at him. “I’m not
sure she would want me there, Draco. I’d rather not make your mother feel uncomfortable. I know
since I'm an Mug -”

He cut her off by pressing his finger to her lips. “She doesn't care that you’re Muggleborn,
Granger. Even if she did, she would have to accept it because I have no intentions of losing you.”

“That’s a big thing to claim,” she smiled.

“Then I suppose I’ll just have to keep winning you over then. I could spend the rest of my life
wooing you.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, and again, she was taken with how sweet he was
to her.

“You've won me well enough,” she laughed. “I have something I would like to tell you as well.”
Hermione clasped her hands together nervously. “If there is a next time, when I am in heat I mean,
that I tell you to mark me..” Hermione trailed off.

“I won’t just claim you, sweetheart. If that’s what you’re worried about -”

She shook her head, moving to straddle his waist while she tried to get the words out. “What I am
trying, and failing, to say is that I want you to. I want you to mark me because I can’t think of
anything better than being yours. It’s so bizarre because I know it’s only been a few weeks, and
this sounds like every single failed teenage romance I’ve ever heard, but I -” Hermione cleared her
throat. “It’s you. It’s definitely you that I want, and it’s not just some old magic anymore.”

He stared at her, gripping her waist, and she could feel his cock growing hard against her bare
folds. “Tell me that again, when we haven’t just done this, and I know beyond all doubt that it’s
not just pillow talk.”

She rolled her eyes. “Malfoy, if I didn’t know how badly you wanted it, I would think you were
trying to get out of it.”

His eyes darkened, and he moved her by her hips, helping her grind against his cock. “I want you to
tell me again so I know you won’t have regrets.”

Hermione nodded, leaning down to nip the shell of his ear before whispering “When you do, I have
a fantasy of you fucking me from behind when you do it, licking my mating gland before you sink
your teeth into it. Would that be too much to ask for?”

He growled, lifting her up to impale her on his cock. “You are going to feel me for weeks.”
 Chapter Eight
Chapter Notes

Um, so hi. If you weren't aware, I didn't abandon this story. I was on hiatus. I
technically still am. It's been a long month full of self doubt, and struggling to write
just about anything, but I finished this chapter so I'm putting it up. This story has one
more chapter to go, and then a short epilogue. When I started this I never planned for
it to be a serious story. Considering the support it got, I'm considering writing another
A/B/O when I have the inspiration for one. (I'm also rushing to finish this so I can
upload my new dramione. It's a Muggle AU. Hermione is a stripper, Draco is her boss,
and the best part? It's 40k and complete. So I'll hopefully finish this in a week or two!)
Thank you for the support and I can't wait to see what you think if you're still out
there!

Chapter Eight

Being in a solid -- she considered it as such given they were partially bonded, and knew exactly
where they were headed -- relationship was jarring, to say the very least. Hermione had been added
to the apparition wards, and had her floo connected to Draco’s flat. It had been her idea, one
prompted by her asking him if he would like access to hers. Things had just escalated into having a
drawer at the other’s flat.

Actually he had cleared out a closet for her, but semantics.

It was a weekend, a Saturday to be exact, when he had her pinned against the sofa in his living
room. And whilst he was kissing her, he wasn’t fucking her. Neither of their clothes were scattered
over the floor, but it was a knee jerk reaction when the floo roared to life, that she shoved him off
of her.

“Mother,” he groaned. Draco lay on the floor, grinning when Hermione peeked over the edge to
look at him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Of course she knew that she would eventually be meeting Narcissa Malfoy, but she’d been
narrowly wiggling her way out of it for little over a month. There was something incredibly
intimidating about the witch. Yet Hermione had only seen Draco’s mother in passing during their
years at Hogwarts, and occasionally in Diagon Alley.
She was well put together, prim and proper with her freshly styled hair, and a dash of lipstain that
brought out the fullness of them. Looking up at Narcissa, who leaned over the couch with as much
of a smile as she ever bothered with, Hermione couldn’t remember why she’d been so nervous.
The woman looked delighted to see her.

“Miss Granger, it’s so nice to meet you formally.” She said. “Draco, there will be house elves
popping in with supper, but would you go pick up my favorite tea from the manor?” She asked her
son, taking a seat on the far end of the couch from Hermione as she sat up straight.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion, looking from his mother to her, and then back to his mother.
“You’ll forgive me if I think you left it there on purpose,” Draco drawled.

“And just why would I do that?” Narcissa smirked, and it was a near carbon copy of the one
Hermione saw on a daily basis. “Go on, Draco.” She shooed her son away. “I’m not going to run
your girlfriend off.”

When his eyes fell to her, Hermione cleared her throat. “Draco, it’s rude to keep your mother
waiting.” A smile curved her lips, which were still red from all the snogging, and she hoped there
were no visible marks on her neck. What an awful way to meet his mother -- caught snogging as if
they were a couple of teenagers.

As the floo activated, with “Malfoy Manor,” being called out, Draco was gone, and Hermione
found herself in an awkward silence.

It didn’t last long. If there was anything Narcissa could do, it was apparently talking enough for
both of them. “I assume my son has told you it’s my doing that the two of you have a soulmate
bond?”

She nodded, picking at her frayed jeans. “I think he told me the day after he found out. He was
going to tell me after he returned from -- what?”

A grin that seemed too wide to even fit on her face properly had spread across Narcissa’s face.
“Oh, nothing, darling. I just heard the most wonderful rumor from a witch in Germany.” There was
an airy lift in her voice as she took in the way Hermione paled. “I heard it from a friend, who
actually heard it from a maid, that there was a sound coming from Draco’s room. I’ve always
worried about him because of his father’s dalliance in the Dark Arts, so it gives me peace of mind
knowing he’s safe. Nevermind that, the maid heard what sounded like a portkey, and laughter.”
“Oh,” Hermione mumbled. It wasn’t like she didn’t know at least some of the details, like the fact
they’d had sex. Given their designations, Hermione didn’t think she ought to be embarrassed.
“How odd.”

“You make him happier than I’ve ever seen him.” Narcissa took her hand in hers, squeezing it. “I
know he won’t tell you what it meant to him, but thank you for not searching for a way to undo the
bond.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Undo it?” She shook her head at the ridiculousness of it. “I could
never”

Draco was already back, stepping out from the floo, and brushing powder from his hair. It was
already tousled from running her fingers through the soft strands. “Litte told me she had already
packed your tea, Mother.” His gaze settled on their hands, which Narcissa hadn’t let go of yet.
“Just what were the two of you talking about?”

“Nothing!” Hermione said quickly, but she giggled to herself.

At the same time Narcissa said confidently, “We were discussing how badly I want to be a
grandmother.”

Hermione snorted, but she didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up at all.

Since supper with his mother had gone so well, Draco offered to meet her parents. It decidedly, did
not go so well. Not for any awful reason like her parents loathed him, or that her father was the
overprotective sort.

As they sat around the table, Hermione squeezed his thigh from beneath the table. But not once
had Draco smiled, and she was beginning to worry. After the sixth sideways glance from her
mother, she tapped on Malfoy’s shoulder, and pulled him from the dining room. Her former room
was right off from the dining room. Yanking him inside, she drew her wand, and silenced the
room.

On the off chance he had something nasty to say about her parents, they didn’t need to hear it.
“What’s wrong with you?” She asked accusingly. “You’ve been scowling all night, and my parents
must think that you hate them!”
He put his hands up. “No, I think your father is hilarious, and your mum is --”

“Then why are you scowling at them as if they’re going to kill you? Malfoy, I swear on all that is
holy if this is about Muggles versus Wizards,”

He vehemently shook his head. “Gods, no.” He gasped. “Potter had just told me not to let them see
my teeth.”

She blinked. “What?”

“He told me all about dentists, and how they pull your teeth out. I’m not one to judge your parents
for their professions, Hermione, but that’s a bit much.”

“They don’t pull your teeth out for the fun of it, Draco!” She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled
up. “They extract teeth when they can no longer be salvaged, and it hurts you to have the tooth in
your mouth. Harry just wanted to make you look like an idiot.”

He blinked. “Of bloody course he did.”

“Why did you ever listen to him anyway?” Hermione giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You
must have known he was going to trick you, but he’s right. They’ll love your mouth.”

“I happen to think that you love it just a bit more,” he murmured, dropping his head to kiss her.
Hermione shoved him off before he could show her how much she loved it between her legs.

He still traveled often, and the distance was still akin to having her heart torn from her chest. The
more time they spent together made it easier, even though she was only going to have complete
relief when he’d claimed her. She knew it was coming, and it was going to come to pass sooner
rather than later.

If she could feel it as if it were something lurking below her skin, Hermione knew it must have
been so much stronger for him. The urge for an Alpha to claim his mate.Draco must have been
barely fighting it off because she knew all she could think about was grabbing him and begging.
It was another day of work, one she’d started with him between her legs. Tearing the covers off,
Hermione moaned as he moved her legs over his shoulders, his tongue sliding against her clit.
“Draco,” she gasped, bunching the sheets between her fingers. Her head rolling to the side in
pleasure, she noticed the time that was projected from him wand in a faint blue light.

Reality crashed over her, and she was out from under him in seconds. “Don’t you dare pout at me,
Malfoy. We’re both going to be late! I still have to shower, and-”

He cut her off with a searing kiss, picking her up easily as he’d crawled out of bed. “You’re too
wound up, Granger. You’re not going to be late. You’re a witch; apparition will take seconds, and
you’ll be clicking across the atrium in those ridiculously high heels of yours.”

“You love my heels.” She pointed out, whimpering when the head of his cock brushed against her
clit. “Still twenty minutes simply isn’t enough time. I have that meeting today, and I have to
persuade for-”

“Rights for werewolves,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And you’re going to win,
sweetheart.”

She relaxed against him. “Alright,” she mumbled, looking right at him. “We’ll shower together -
you desperately need one.”

“Rude,” he snorted.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re still sweaty, and no one wants to smell sex and sweat.” At the rising of
his eyebrows, she added, “Except for you. You have approximately five minutes to fuck me.”

His eyes narrowed on her, and slid into her. “That’s hardly enough time.”

She moaned, her head falling back as he slammed into her, walking toward her bathroom. Draco
bounced her on his cock, and she was a mess. “I have to get ready still,” Hermione whined. “You
know I”d rather stay with you.”

“Maybe I can persuade you to take an extended lunch break with me.” He purred, turning on the
hot water in her shower wandlessly. “You’ve been working an awful lot, and it’s my job to take
care of you, sweetheart.”

“Lunch break,” she nodded. “Yes!” She moaned as his thumb swiped across her clit.

They had a tradition.

Whenever he was due to leave again, they would spend as much time as they could together the
night before. They had only gone on a date in public once, and it had ended with him buried inside
of her against the bar under a Notice-Me-Not, which was still the most exhilarating experience of
her life. And while they hadn’t been caught, she wasn’t keen to do it again in the middle of an
upper class restaurant.

Tonight she was curled up beside him on the couch. He’d bought takeaway before showing up at
her door. The cartons of chinese food were now empty on her coffee table. Nuzzling his shoulder,
Hermione asked, “Can you believe it’s only been a few months since I sent you that letter?”

Draco shook his head. “It feels as if I’ve lo - been with you for years.” He swallowed hard, and the
arm was wrapped around her shoulders twitched.

Her heart pounded in her chest. “What was that, Draco?” She asked playfully, her fingertips
skimming his sides while she tickled him.

His laugh echoed throughout her apartment, scaring Crookshanks out of his spot in front of the
fireplace. “Nothing at all, Granger. It just feels like I’ve been with you for years, rather than the
last three months.”

Hermione crawled into his lap, straddling his waist while she arched an eyebrow. “I think you
know exactly what I was referring to, Mr. Malfoy.” Her hands settled on his shoulders as she tilted
her head to the side. “Shall I ask again?” Hermione smirked, and she was almost certain she had
him when she rolled her hips against him.

“I have no idea what you’re referring to, Miss Granger.” He murmured, his lips slanting against
hers when she leaned down. His fingers tangled into her messy hair, which still had traces of flour
in it after she’d tried to bake something earlier in the night. “You’ll never get this out of your hair.”
“Well if you hadn’t pinned me to the floor in the middle of a pile of flour to snog me, it wouldn’t
have happened.” She replied, rubbing slow circles in his shoulders. “You’re always so tense,
Draco.”

“Am I?”

She nodded, biting her bottom lip. “There’s a chance I might make that worse.” Hermione
whispered, and he pulled back to look at her curiously. “I think you were going to say it first, but
I’m not all that patient.”

HIs grey eyes widened, focusing on her as if it were the first time he’d looked at her all over again,
and if she didn’t just blurt it, she was never going to say it. “I love you,” Hermione whispered, and
he crushed her to him.

A growl tore from his throat as he shifted their weight, laying her against the couch. “I love you.”
He bit out, tugging her shirt over her head, and pressing his lips against her collarbone, nipping the
skin there. “So fucking much, sweetheart.” Draco groaned when she ground her hips against him.
“I could stay,” his voice was muffled, and his thumbs swiped across her nipples.

Her back arching, she shook her head even though she wanted to agree. “No,” she gasped, “you
need to - fuck.” Hermione’s head fell backwards as his hand slid to the apex of her legs, pushing
her soaked knickers to the side. The edge of the lace tickled the inside of her thighs. “You need to
take your trip. You can’t count on,” she shuddered as he slid down her body, pressing his lips
against the soft skin of her stomach.

Already too sensitive to take much teasing, she came within three strokes of his tongue, her legs
squeezing together as she tugged at his hair.

Draco apparated from the inside of her flat before she could tell him that his tie was askew.
Smirking to herself, still clutching the sheets to her naked body, she supposed someone would tell
him before he got to the conference. And really even though her stomach was already sinking the
further he got away from her, it was only two days.

Forty eight hours that were already barely creeping by. Dragging herself out of bed, Hermione took
a long bath, but it only lasted half an hour. She even used the traditional muggle methods of drying
her hair, and styling it so she didn’t look like she’d been fucked in too many positions for her to
count. Yet even then, only a full hour had passed.
She was irritated, glaring at the floo as if she expected for Malfoy to step through just because he
knew she didn’t want to be alone. If it was this bad for her, she could only imagine what it must be
like for her other half.

Grabbing a book from the shelf, she curled up on the couch, the program playing on the telly
making for white noise. It was a romance novel that Ginny had gifted her. It wasn’t the sort she’d
read, with a cover that depicted a woman caught in the embrace of muscular warrior. Rolling her
eyes at the cheesy euphemisms, the first hundred pages flew by in hardly any time at all.

It’s how she spent the evening, with a blanket pulled over her knees, and with a steaming cup of tea
beside her. The shoddy romance novel was entertaining enough, and it made her think of the
interesting sex positions, and Draco Malfoy.

Around eleven o’clock, there was an owl perched on her window sill. Tapping on the glass
impatiently, sharp little sounds at the sound of his beak. Hermione padded across the carpet, his old
quidditch jersey resting against her skin mid thigh. She laughed when his owl gave her barely any
time at all to retrieve the letter before flapping wildly to make it to the kitchen.

After the incident with the jar that had been her grandmother’s she opted for plastic. It was harder
to break even when an owl wrestled it to the ground. Stifling a laugh, and holding the parchment to
her face to hide her grin with the owl stared at her indignantly, she bit down on her bottom lip, and
sat on the couch.

Hermione,

I can feel how tense you are from here, sweetheart. It’s so fucking boring here. You’re all I can
think about - what would it be like if I returned to my room, and you were there? Or if I’d just
brought you as my companion? Merlin knows you would have been more competent than Potter.

Speaking of, he hasn’t quite let me live down the fiasco that was meeting your parents. He’s
mentioned it to four other wizards so far.

Hermione giggled, hurrying to her room to grab a quill.

Draco,

I told you that it was an awful idea to take Harry. I know the options weren’t great, but really, I’m
sure Kingsley would have approved Neville to go with you. It’s just a fundraiser; all you have to do
is dine with other wizards who have a vested interest in our auror department.

You probably should have brought me as your date, but if you had, I’m sure we would be off in a
broom closet like a pair of teenagers. Not that I’m complaining.

Also - I miss you.

Extra also - your owl is going to get too fat to fly soon.

Hermione let the letter go with the owl, who had a treat in his mouth as he flew out the window.
Laughing, she turned to the television set once more. It was only a short while - she knew because
she was still counting down - when her skin grew hot.

It happened gradually, the heat over her skin creeping up on her until it was impossible to ignore.
“Oh, fuck.” Hermione hissed between her teeth.

She shouldn’t have had another heat quite yet - it should have taken another two months at the
least for it to fit in with the bi annual trend. Except there was no denying the tight bundle of nerves
in her lower belly.

Her fireplace crackled to life, bright green embers sparking up as a familiar face appeared among
the flames. His eyebrows were drawn together, his jaw clenched, and she noticed a crowd behind
him. “Hermione?” He called out, and the sound of a party was unmistakable. “Are you alright?”

What awful timing, she thought. Swallowing, and resisting the urge to drag him into her flat a
country away, she shook her head slowly. “I’m -” she stuttered, taking a deep breath and starting
over. “I’m okay. Why do you think something is wrong?”
It wasn’t okay to lie to her alpha.

“I just knew you needed me.” He said hesitantly, eyeing her closely. “Did something happen?”

She laughed, an awkward, forced sound. “It was nothing. I heard strange noises in the hallway was
all. It had me in a panic. Is the party almost over?”

Draco nodded. “Yes, I’ll be back in my hotel room in a half hour. I’ll call you then, alright?”
Hermione agreed, smiling. “If you need anything..” he trailed off, laughing as if it was almost
comical to worry about anything, “there’s an emergency portkey in your dresser. Potter approved
it.”

The connection cut off abruptly as he was in the middle of saying goodbye.

She debated it - she honestly did. Surely she could wait another day before he was home. But then
she thought of just how good he’d been to her the first time, and she grabbed the port key.

Hermione landed in a hallway, in front of a door that must have been Draco’s and it was as she
lifted her hand to knock on the door that it swung open.

“Hi,” she said weakly.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I knew there was something wrong.”

“I’m in heat.” She admitted quietly, rubbing her legs together as he looked over her, his eyes
growing dark before he ripped her out of the hallway.
 Chapter Nine
Chapter Notes

It's been a long road, mostly behind the scenes obviously. This was the last chapter,
but there will be an epilogue that's more of an extra. (Which will probably be mostly
fluff, and smut, and zero drama because these two dorks deserve it.) I hope you liked
this story and I can't wait to read your thoughts. Oh, and also, I finished this in exactly
ninety days. Fun fact!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Her back met the flat surface of the door, her elbow knocking against the door knob. “I thought I
would be able to make it until you were back.” Hermione whispered, looking at her feet. Afraid to
look up and see disappointment in his eyes, she focused on her slippers - a ratty pair that she’d put
on at the last second. I should have grabbed my trainers. They were right there. Shortly followed
by the thought that of course he didn’t bloody care about her shoes.

He sucked in a sharp breath, and tilted her chin up with his index fingers. “Look at me.” While his
voice was soft, it was a demand, and Hermione glanced up as she nibbled her bottom lip. “I would
have come home immediately.” Draco told her.

“It looks like you were on your way anyway.” Hermione said, swallowing, and pointing to the bed
behind him. His clothes were mostly packed away in suitcases. “I didn’t want to interrupt another
trip is all, but it..it hurts already.”

His nostrils flared, and he slipped an arm around her waist. “Did you know before I floo called
you?”

She nodded. “I thought it was just the distance between us, which would have been nothing out of
the ordinary. So I wasn’t worried. When you flooed me, I knew by that time. I was trying to figure
out what I was going to do.”

“The first thing you should have done was tell me the truth.”

She nodded, her eyes filling with tears even though she didn’t want to cry. “I lied to you.” She
mumbled, running her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
Malfoy rolled his eyes. Pulling his wand from his pocket, he levitated his luggage off of the bed.
“Don’t cry,” he murmured, brushing a stray tear away. “I’m not at all mad.”

He was lying. She knew he was upset that she still felt she was a nuisance, but it wasn’t the time.
Not with the way her blood felt like it was boiling, and she was barely standing on her own two
feet. “Draco,” she gasped as he slid his thumb across her bottom lip. “Bed. Now.” She whimpered,
squeezing his wrist and pulling him onto the mattress.

He watched her with a smirk that curved his lips as she tugged her shirt over her head before she
fumbled with the windsor knot so close to his throat. “Haven’t I told you before that I would
always take care of you? That includes your heats, Hermione.”

Draco squeezed her breast lightly, his thumb stroking across the sensitive nub through the soft
cotton fabric of her bra. She’d been in too much of a hurry to bother with fancy lingerie. “I know.”
She murmured, throwing the black tie into the floor, and pushing his jacket from his shoulders. “I
know that, I do. I just -” he cupped the back of her neck, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“You just what? Did you think I’d rather be living it up with Potter than taking care of you?” He
smirked, laying her back against the pillows, and hooking his fingers into the sides of her joggers.

She scowled at him, wanting to peel his clothes off of him instead. “I’ve gotten myself through
several heats, Malfoy. I know how to,” she swallowed as his eyes grew dark, “get myself through
it. Not as well, of course, but,” she was rambling, trying and failing to think of a way to smooth
that topic over.

Still fully clothed, Malfoy rolled his sleeves up before bending over her. There was a curve to his
lips, but it wasn’t playful, and her heart hammered in her chest. “Just what would you do,
sweetheart? Haven’t I said before that your fingers,” he pushed her knickers to the side, his long
digits brushing against her cunt, “can’t possibly be long enough to pleasure you like I can?”

Hermione’s fingers wound tightly into his hair as she pushed her hips against his hand, begging
silently. “They can’t.” She agreed, and two fingers slid into her. She moaned, the sound could be
heard outside of their four walls no doubt, and she pleaded, “move.”

He kissed her, pressing her into the soft bed, and his fingers pumped into her, but not at all fast
enough for her. “Gods, you smell so fucking sweet.” He groaned, kissing down her jaw, his tongue
sliding slowly down her neck as he bit her throat roughly enough to leave marks.
Hermione panted, hooking her legs around his middle, and let her head fall back into the pillows.
“You’ll leave marks!” She squealed, tugging on his hair roughly. “Please, no teasing this time,
Draco. I need you.”

Her alpha said nothing as he kissed across her collarbone, rubbing her clit with slow, even strokes
while pumping two fingers into her. “Whatever you want.” He murmured then.

She whimpered at the loss of his fingers when he slid his arms under her legs. “Clothes,” she
grumbled, peering up at him, “you’re wearing too many of them.”

He laughed, vanishing them with a flick of his wand, and slamming the piece of wood on the
bedside table so harshly she thought it might crack. “Will this do?” He whispered, pulling her
down and his cock slid against her slick folds.

She nodded breathlessly, her eyes roaming over his body - down the hard lines of his abdomen, and
the definition of his arms that were holding her legs up, the V leading down to his pelvis. Her
tongue darted out to dampen her lips in anticipation, and she tilted her head to the side before
murmuring cheekily, “what are you waiting for, alpha?”

He slid into her hard, and her back arched off of the bed while she grabbed his shoulders. “Fuck!”
Hermione hissed, staring up at him.

Draco was gazing down at her in awe, and it was all she could do to tremble when he told her,
“Look how pretty you are when you take my cock,” followed by another thrust that caused her to
shriek.

Absently, she realized a familiar voice had just yelled that it would be a common courtesy to cast a
silencing charm. Not that Draco Malfoy would do anything of the sort.

She’d came four times in the first hour, the first was with how hard he’d fucked her, and the filthy
words in her ear of how pretty she looked wrapped around him. The second with a gentle stroke of
his thumb across her clit as he rested her legs over his shoulders, fucking her roughly into the
mattress. The third she hadn’t expected, but there was something different about this heat. The
fourth was with him filling her up too. The pleasure so great she’d been unable to stop herself from
coming with him.

Lying in his bed, Hermione tried to catch her breath. He’d draped her across his chest, staring up at
the ceiling. “Draco?” She whispered, pressing kisses to his jaw line, going upward until she was
nibbling the shell of his ear.

He murmured a response as she straddled his waist.

“I want you to mark me.” She told him, not breaking eye contact, and her cheeks filled with heat as
his eyes widened. “And I’d like to remember it. I think we both know what I was like on the last
day.” Hermione smirked.

“As if I could forget,” he murmured. “You’re sure?”

She nodded, a moan slipping out of her as his tongue slid against her neck, his fingers brushing
against the mating gland at the base of it. “Of course.” Hermione gasped, rubbing herself against
him as he grew hard once more. “Just a reminder, for you know, later, or whenever you’re ready. It
doesn’t have to be now -”

He chuckled below her, lifting her by her hips effortlessly and sliding into her. “You’re rambling,
sweetheart.” Draco told her quietly. “Make no mistake, I’ll claim you before this heat is over.”

Her eyes rolled back as his hand dropped to the apex of her thighs, his thumb rubbing against her
clit while he thrust into her. “Why not now?” Hermione whimpered, squeezing her breasts. She
didn’t have to open her eyes to know it drove him crazy. “I don’t see a reason for waiting,”

“Are you so impatient?” He growled, flipping them to where her back was pressed to the bed.

“I’ve waited months.” She whined, gasping for air as he settled her legs over his shoulders. “I
wanted you to mark me the first time, and you had to be so bloody noble -”

Malfoy scoffed, bottoming out inside of her even harder than before. “You didn’t really want me
to.”

“That’s fair, but, Draco,” she started again.

Pinching her nipple and pounding into her as he was, she forgot what she was going to say next. “I
will.” He promised her lowly, sliding out of her just to hear her sweet whimper. “I’ll put you on
your hands and knees like you asked me to, and I’ll mark you as mine when I knot you, Hermione.”

She nodded, “okay.”

Draco slid down her body, his hands roaming over her stomach as he knelt between her legs. His
tongue was hot against her clit as he worked her with slow, broad strokes. “Merlin, you’re-”

Whatever he was going to say next was lost as she shrieked, riding that high as he slid back into
her, harder this time. “Oh, fuck.” She clung to his shoulders, leaving marks where her nails dug
into his skin. “You feel so good.”

He smirked, gathering her up in his arms, and holding her tightly as he slid into her. Pressing his
lips along her jaw, he whispered in her ear. “Can you take my knot again, sweetheart?”

“ Please. ” Unlike the first time, it was easier. Breathy, broken moans fell from her lips while she
threaded her fingers through his hair. “It’s almost too much to take.” She gasped, grinning when he
looked positively feral. “I love you.” She said it without thinking, but it was worth the smile that
spread across his face.

“I love you too.” Draco murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as he was all of the way inside of
her, coming in her tight cunt. “You’re such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”

He ordered room service at three in the morning, offering to pay triple the waiter’s salary if he
would make the trip to find some chinese takeaway for Hermione. Giggling to herself, she bunched
the sheets around her naked body as she crawled out of bed. He was standing at the door, arguing
with the waiter through the barely opened door.

“Is there a problem?” She asked quietly, tapping her boyfriend on the shoulder. His head whipped
around, dark eyes widening as he took her in while she wore hardly nothing at all. “I don’t have to
have Chinese, Draco. Its okay. I’ll eat anything right now.”

The boy standing at the door couldn’t have been any older than seventeen. He stared at Hermione,
his mouth hanging open a bit. “Sir, it’s really against policy for me to,” his words didn’t register
however as he lifted a hand unconsciously towards Hermione.
Realizing in the split second she had that Draco would kill this man in a matter of moments, she
grabbed the door, and slammed it shut. She’d only narrowly missed his hand after shoving it out of
the way. “Any sort of food will do!” She locked the door, her back to Draco, but she could feel
how furious he was. “Leave it at the door.” Hermione called, and waited for the boys footsteps to
fade away.

Draco turned her, grabbing her wrists and pinning them over her head. The finely threaded sheet
pooled at her feet, but she wasn’t paying attention to it as she stared up at him. “You shouldn’t
have jumped in the middle of that, Hermione.” He hissed between his teeth, pressing his hard body
to hers. “If that had been an Alpha, he would have grabbed you.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her chest rising and falling. “I trust you to protect me.”
Hermione whispered. “You would never let someone put their hands on me, and I was able to get
him away quickly enough, wouldn’t you say?”

During the moments they’d spent in her bed at home, or his, Hermione had forgotten how he
looked in rut. His eyes were so dark, they were nearly black. And it was with eyes that reminded
her of obsidian, that he told her, “I wanted to snap his neck.”

“I prefer you to be here with me, and not in Azkaban. How could I ever return to getting myself
through my own heats again?”

He exhaled - it was as close to a laugh as she would get. “I’m going to fuck you against this door
now. So that when he comes back, he knows exactly who you belong to.”

She nodded. “I don’t have any objections.”

Draco pulled her into his arms and thrust into her, tugging at her hair, and he was very deliberate
in the fact that he made her scream when the waiter had come back to leave their food.

She sat in the bed with her back to his chest, the sheets slippery against their skin. Wiggling her
arse against his semi hard cock, she smirked when a low growl rumbled in his chest. “Hermione,”
he warned, “eat your food.”

“I can think of someone - sorry, something, I’d much rather being doing.” She remarked, twisting
her fork in the noodles, and bringing them to her lips. “It’s not as if I’m going to pass out if I miss a
meal.”

“You’ve missed four meals.” He muttered, nuzzling her neck, and nipping at the soft skin there.
“Seductive, little minx that you are.” Draco whispered into her ear, “you’ve caused me to to
temporarily forget to take care of you.”

A breathy laugh left her. “I’d say you were taking care of me just fine.” Hermione held the fork up
to his mouth, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow as she did so. “Draco, come on, if I have to
eat, so do you.”

Staring at her blankly, he opened his mouth as if it were a great chore to do so. He let her feed him
since it made her smile, and really, he was famished. “I’ve only just thought of it, but did you send
word to the Ministry that you would be out of the office?”

She shook her head. “I’m sure Harry has taken care of it.” Hermione shrugged. Her closest friend
had taken off the day after she’d arrived, muttering loudly as he passed their hotel room door that
they were the most inconsiderate couple he’d ever met. With the carton now empty, she tossed it
into the trashcan, and turned to face Draco.

Hermione ran her palms over his chest, glancing up at him. “About that shower..”

“Yes?” He asked her, ripping her close to him, and sliding his hand in between her legs. “What was
that, sweetheart?” Draco asked her again when she whimpered, grinding herself against him.

“I’d rather take a bath.” She gasped, digging her fingernails into his shoulders. “Would you mind?”

Draco carried her, not willing to be separated from their skin to skin contact for long. “You’re
beautiful.” He told her softly, kissing down her neck gently that was already bruising slightly from
love bites. “Stunning, breathtaking -”

“You’ll make me cry.” Hermione scolded him, turning on the hot water first when he set her down
on her feet. “Although I doubt we’ll be doing much washing..” she shrieked as she found herself
sitting on the edge of the tub, her back flat against the wall, and Draco was kneeling in front of her
while flattening his tongue against her cunt.
If she was asked, Hermione didn’t remember the last two days incredibly well. She realized that he
hadn’t knotted her, and he seemed to be holding off, teasing her until she was reduced to a whining
mess. Absently, she considered the fact that he could be waiting to see her nesting once more,
maybe he wanted to hear about -

“Do you wants kids?” She blurted, tracing a scar across his muscular chest. At the strangled sound
in his throat, she smiled. “Are you okay, Malfoy? Did I catch you off guard?”

He peeked down at her, and a shiver rolled down her spine. If how dark his eyes had become were
any indication of his answer, it had her heart pounding in her chest. “Yes.” Draco told her simply,
his fingertips brushing against the sides of her breasts before he cupped one in his hand.

“With me?” She asked before she could lose the nerve. “I mean - I’m still on my blockers, so I’m
not trying to trap you -”

“What in Merlin’s name brought this on?” He asked. “Is this because I haven’t marked you?
Granger, I’m not having second thoughts, you know.” Malfoy teased her, his grin lopsided and
playful. “I do; I want children with you.”

He kissed her roughly, his tongue sliding against the seam of her lips, and Draco moved to hover
over her. Parting her legs with his knee, and smirking when she rubbed herself against him,
desperate for any kind of friction, he tangled his fingers in her hair. “I wanted you to be sure,” he
told her in between kissing her, “I know you hate this, this designation, and you deserved to be in
control of it.”

Hermione nodded, hooking her legs around his hips. “I have never been more sure of anything in
my life, so please -”

Draco lifted her right leg to rest over his shoulder as he slid into her, groaning at the tight feel of
her wrapped around his cock. “You’re incredible.” He told her through gritted teeth. “So fucking
pretty, so fucking good for me.”

Gasping for air, and moaning with every breath she took, Hermione trembled below him. Each
thrust felt better than the last, and he felt it at the same time she did. “That’s magic,” Hermione
whined as he slid into her deeper, and he rubbed her clit in small circles with the pad of his thumb,
“incredibly old magic.”
He groaned, bottoming out inside of her. “It’s the bloody soulmate bond.” He whispered. “I want
you to come for me, Hermione. You’re so tense - just let go.”

“But you haven’t,”

“Let go. ” Draco ordered, his voice thick with lust, and she could already feel his cock swelling
inside of her.

“Oh, my God.” She squeaked as her orgasm crashed over her, her back arching off of the bed as
she shook violently. “Merlin. Draco. Alpha.” She panted in broken whimpers, her legs shaking as
he pulled out of her, and he crooked his finger.

He was smirking, motioning for her to move onto her hands, and knees. “Did you think I forgot
how you want to be taken?” Draco locked his arms around her, nibbling her neck as he squeezed
her breasts. “You are the best part of my life.” He told her quietly, pressing his hand to the small of
her back so she would lean forward.

She told him that they should silence the room, even if it was out of courtesy because she was sure
to scream when he marked her as his mate. The reply that a silencing charm just wouldn’t do - that
he would love for everyone to know what was going on, sent chills through her.

He gripped her hips, pulling her backwards, and groaned as he watched her cunt greedily take each
inch of him. “Gods,” he hissed when her walls clenched around him, “can you take my knot,
sweetheart?”

Hermione nodded, collapsing on her arms while rocking back against him. It wasn’t drawn out -
thank fuck for that - and she moaned as her cunt stretched to take his knot, as she eagerly moved
back against him. “Draco, that feels so good.” She whimpered, fisting the sheets in her hands.

As he slid fully inside her, his knot swollen, he murmured how he couldn’t hold out. Tugging her
up by her shoulders, he swept her hair to the side before gently sliding his tongue along the mating
gland at the nape of her neck. “So sweet,” he muttered, his teeth skimming against the heated flesh.

“Please.” She whimpered, clutching onto his forearm.

Hermione screamed as his teeth broke the surface, shuddering against him as she came harder than
she ever had in her life - heat, or no heat. “Oh, my fucking Gods.” She shrieked, her cunt squeezing
his cock as the magic that seemed to snap into place took effect. “I love you.” She murmured.

Draco’s tongue lapped against the bite mark softly while she still shook in his arms. “And I you,
sweetheart.” He muttered into her neck.

Looking at him from across the bed, Hermione’s hand drifted to the back of her neck where there
was still an imprint from his teeth. It wouldn’t scar, but anyone she ever came across would know
she was claimed, would know that she was his.

He was cute when he slept, with hard features that softened into the likeness of a sleeping child.
His lips were always pouty, his hair tousled, mostly from her fingers, and -

His loud snore sent her into a fit of giggles that she attempted to muffle with the back of her hand.
“What is it?” He slurred, still sleepy as he slung his arm over her hip, and pulled her snug against
him. “Granger?”

“You could have told me that you snore before you claimed me as your mate.” Hermione laughed,
running her fingers along his arm. “I’d never heard it before.”

He snorted. “Snoring would have been a deal breaker for you?”

She smiled shyly. “I suppose not.” Hermione curled up against him. “Does this ever feel like a
long dream to you? As if it’s too good to be true?”

Draco rested his chin on top of her head. “Sometimes.” He agreed. “But if it were, I would never
want to wake up.”

Smiling stupidly to herself, she nodded. “Do you think it would be a problem if we slept in? We
would have to pay for another night.”

He laughed, a low, throaty sound above her. “I don’t think anyone will be coming near this room
for a while, sweetheart.”
 Chapter End Notes

Is this an acceptable time to tell you I'm obsessed with this trope and have a very
strong urge to write another a/b/o, but this time as a marriage law twist?

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