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Stuffed under his mammoth desk, Hermione stared at her Potion’s Master with despair painted all over her soft features. She had long ago accepted her failure, and yet she still managed a sheepish smile, hoping it would soften him. 

All she got was a mocking grin and a raised eyebrow. His usual cockiness was nearly palpable when he looked at her like that. With a loud screech, he pulled his chair closer to her—so close she could rest her head between his widespread legs if she only wanted to. 

If he let her. 

Her eyes burnt with unshed tears as Professor Malfoy nudged her chin with the tip of his cock, dragging it up to part her lips. 

“Professor, please—” she moaned, the pressure between her legs blinding her senses. He’d been playing with her for hours.

For a lack of a better word. 

Because, as fun as it had been at the beginning, she wouldn’t consider it as such now. Not anymore, after Merlin knew how much time passed. Her Potions Professor definitely knew how to keep everything simmering under the surface, his deft fingers expertly moving across her body, squeezing and pinching, running through her soaking folds as if he was checking whether his potion was ready yet. 

It was. But he was clearly planning to boil it to its limits.

Perhaps she should find it cringe, when he leaned over her spread legs earlier, murmuring that she smelled better than any love potion he had ever brewed, that a drop of her juices is enough to make him go feral for her. Perhaps she should push him away when the tip of his tongue traced lazy circles on her inner thighs, glistening with the evidence of her arousal, instead of begging him for an orgasm. 

Perhaps. 

But she liked it. She liked when he had her sprawled on his mahogany desk, not even bothering to empty the wooden surface before he told her to lie down on her back on it. The feral glow in his eyes as he approached her was enough to make her pussy throb. He spread her legs, so wide he could fit between her thighs, and with no warning, began feasting on her, his tongue lapping and mouth sucking, until her legs shook and tears rolled down her cheeks. 

He stopped then, waiting for her to come down from her high. 

And then started again. 

And again. 

Each time, it took him shorter and shorter to bring her over the edge. She wondered when his tongue would stiffen, but she didn’t dare to ask.

Then, Professor Malfoy had her warm his cock for what seemed like an eternity when he was grading some papers from the 3rd Years, refusing her the pleasure he once promised. His right hand held her tightly, his grip on her hips relentless as she tried to move, to get any friction for the throbbing ache between her legs. 

He was stronger, of course. And when she started clenching around his cock, her eyes pleading with him, he told her to get on her knees under his desk. 

It’s a punishment, he had said when she whimpered under his touch, begging for a release, like the pathetic whore she was, seconds before he forced her to stand up. He let out a low whistle when she didn’t want to let go of his cock. 

“Now, now. Don’t be so desperate.” He clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Do you know why you are being punished?”

Hermione nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She clenched her jaw so hard it hurt, teeth gritting, but she wouldn’t whimper again. Not even when his hand squeezed her shoulders, pushing her down. 

It was a punishment for not wearing a proper uniform in his class again. And after the class, too. Ever since she noticed he couldn’t look away when she altered her uniform, the white shirt clinging tightly to her chest, exposing her breasts and nipples, she would always do it for his classes. 

And for over three weeks, he didn’t seem to act on it. Which caused her to alter her skirt too, shorten it to the point the hem hardly covered her bum as she walked. Definitely not when she bent over in the library, looking for scrolls on Ancient Potions exactly at the same time her Professor did. She regretted teasing him, testing his patience. She thought it would run out so much sooner.

She trembled with anticipation at the click of his belt and zip of the flyer of his dark trousers, and she watched with anticipation clear in her eyes as he slowly rolled them down his toned thighs, along with his briefs. 

Biting down on her lower lip, she swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on his cock.

“Relax your jaw, Miss Granger,” he cooed, stroking himself languidly as she kneeled under his desk. With his legs spread and trousers rolled down to his ankles, he looked no older than twenty. “You will thank me soon.” 

What a view. She could probably come at the mere sight of this—her Professor fisting his cock. He ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, usually slicked back with no stray curl out of place, dishevelling it so his curls fell down all over his forehead. 

She had no idea his hair was curly. 

She had no idea it would make her mouth water the way it did. 

Doing as he ordered, she smiled sheepishly at him, batting her eyelashes. With her mouth open, it took him less than a second to slide in, his shaft resting on her tongue. “I think I will let you do the work this time. I know you’re an overachiever, darling.” 

She totally was.

She relaxed her palate, taking him in deeper and deeper, until the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat. He pulled the chair closer to her, giving her better access. Their eyes met, silver and gold fighting for dominance, and she took the opportunity to surprise him. With a teasing wink, she grabbed his balls, kneading until his eyes rolled to the back of his head. 

Hermione 1:0 Professor Malfoy.

Eyes still closed, he moaned softly when she hollowed her cheeks, sucking him. One of her hands trailed down her body, resting between her legs, when he grabbed her cheeks and pulled out.

“Ah, ah,” he clicked his tongue again, his eyes snapping open. As though he was aware of her every movement. “None of this.”

A loud whine slipped past her lips. “Pl—” her words cut short with Professor Malfoy pushing his cock back into her mouth, the wicked smirk she knew so well spreading on his lips.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Miss Granger,” he reprimanded her, tilting her head further backwards and fucking her throat properly. “It’s impolite.”

He set a relentless pace, thrusting hard and fast, until she gagged a few times. Drool dripped from the corners of her mouth, and Draco’s hand that held her jaw only a moment ago moved down to her throat, squeezing when he was buried in her mouth to the hilt.

Her inner walls clenched, and she tried to roll her hips to hit the seam of her lace thong, but Professor Malfoy kicked his shoes off and placed his left foot on her thigh, pinning her to the floor. 

She dared a glance at him, his usually stark features softening in the blissful frenzy of her mouth warming his cock. “You ‘kay there?”

Hermione hummed, the soft vibrations from her throat causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head. He groaned, tightening his grip on her hair. And then— 

the Floo in his office came to life, the flames whooshing and hissing as green light illuminated the room. She heard someone step out of the fireplace, loud footsteps nearing the desk. Fuck. Professor Malfoy smiled wickedly, his eyes locking with the unexpected guest. 

He slid his hand from the back of her head to her cheek, caressing it softly. “Keep going, pet. I didn’t tell you to stop.” 

There was mischief on his face and that feral lust in his eyes. She swallowed around him, her fingers wrapping around the base of his cock. Surely he wouldn’t do anything to compromise her, right? And—she was kind of ashamed to admit it, but the mysterious visitor’s presence sent a shiver down her spine. More heat spread between her legs at the thought of not only being caught, but being… watched.

Especially after what they’ve discussed with Draco a few weeks ago. What he had prepared her for when she agreed with no hesitation.  

“Theo,” Professor Malfoy greeted his guest. "You’re just in time."

Theo? 

As in—her eyes widened, and she gagged when Draco’s cock hit the back of her throat again. Her Professor’s attention was focused solely on his guest, and Hermione could have sworn there was something akin to affection that danced across his features as his glazed with arousal eyes fixed on him. 

The other man walked to the front of the desk and—Circe help her—if he wasn’t the most handsome person she’d ever seen.

Snowflakes adorned his chocolate curls like a crown, some of them already damp and plastered to his forehead. His piercing sapphire eyes fixed on her; assessing. Calculating. The red Durmstrang cloak was draped haphazardly over his broad shoulders, his muscles flexing as he shoved his hands into his pockets. And then he smiled, two dimples appearing on each side of his face. He couldn’t be more different from Professor Malfoy, even if he tried to. 

Draco patted her shoulder, his gaze flickering to the dark-haired man. “Why don’t you show our guest some of the famous Hogwarts’ hospitality, Miss Granger? Surely this is included in your responsibilities… you are the Head Girl, after all.” 

He smirked and she could have sworn he got even harder when she nodded, mouth still full with his throbbing cock. 

“Granger?” Theodore Nott asked in a deep, low voice. “As in—” 

“The Golden Girl? Yeah,” he smirked, pulling his cock out of her mouth with a loud pop. “She is a woman of many, many talents, apparently. Saving the word. Sucking my cock. And all that.”

The Durmstrang Headmaster’s gaze flickered between Draco and her, and when he said nothing for a long while, Professor Malfoy pointed to his cock, huffing with disapproval. “You missed something, darling.”

Her eyes followed his finger, noticing the beads of white precome gathered on the head. Flushing a deep shade of red, she braced herself on his thighs and, without breaking eye contact, twirled her tongue around his cock, licking him clean.

“Wow,” the brunette rasped, adjusting his trousers as she closed her mouth around Draco’s cock again, her entire body shaking with anticipation and overstimulation. “Fuck, she’s hot.”

“ Wow ?” Draco echoed his words, arching an eyebrow at his friend. “That’s all you’ve got to say?” 

“Forgive me for being a little… speechless when I get to watch a pretty girl choke on your cock, mate.”

Hermione couldn’t help but smile. Professor Nott thought she was pretty.

Draco chuckled and tapped her cheek, pulling out once more. “Enough for now,” she made a face but obeyed, too afraid he would continue the punishment for the entire night if she ignored him again. Her Potions Master turned his attention to the other man. “You usually need more than that to shut your mouth, Nott. For instance, my cock.”

Hermione choked on the breath she was currently taking, attracting the attention of both men in an instant. Her cheeks blushed a deep shade of red and she groaned, burying her face in her hands. 

“Sorry,” she muttered, ashamed of her reaction. 

Theo—Professor Nott cocked his head to the side and grabbed her chin, drool and spit dripping down the corners of her mouth. A wicked grin, so similar to Draco’s, spread across his face as his eyes roamed her body. Her chest was heaving, the swell of her breasts and hard nipples peeking through the thin fabric of her white, half-unbuttoned shirt. The longer he looked at her, the more heat spread between her thighs. They were slick with her arousal long before he arrived, but it appeared she had a bloody waterfall between her legs.

“Do you want to play, Golden Girl?” She nodded, his fingers digging into her flesh as she tried to suck in a deep breath. She hated that nickname—usually—but the way he said it, with that deep timbre of his voice vibrating with each syllable, she suddenly didn’t want to be called anything else. “I am not as gentle as my friend, you know.”

She shook her head. In no world would she call Professor Malfoy gentle, but the thought of Theodore Nott being even rougher than him was so… alluring. “I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, his attention returning to Professor Malfoy. “She’s eager to please, I see.” 

Draco chuckled, stroking himself. “An overachiever, that one.”

“Is this why she reeks of arousal?” He asked as if they were talking about the weather, nostrils flaring. “I can practically smell her over here.”

“She’s being punished.”

It was Professor’s Nott time to laugh. “You call that a punishment? She looks like she’s enjoying every second.”

“Just because you were invited to join doesn’t mean you can decide on my student’s punishments, Nott.”

“Of course not.”

Her cunt clenched around nothing when they continued to talk about her like that—as if she wasn’t even there, tucked under her Professor’s desk, with his precome on her chin. Draco’s hand slid to her neck, squeezing. Her knees ached. Her throat burnt with soreness. And yet she wanted more; anything they offered—she wanted it. 

Professor Malfoy came to her with a rather indecent proposal, as he called it, asking her if she would be willing to be shared. If she would be willing to share him. After he promised to take care of everything, which included preparing her body for it, she agreed. 

But she didn’t know the man he wanted to share her with was Theodore fucking Nott. 

She’d never seen him before, but she heard stories about the Durmstrang Professor. He was, apparently, the only wizard in the entire world capable of constructing a Time Turner from scratch, all by himself. A fully functioning one, that is. And Gods, if it wasn’t hot.

“I forgot to mention,” Professor Malfoy joked, as if reading her thoughts. “Miss Granger was very interested in your academic career. She has a special interest in Time Turners.”

Sapphire eyes shimmered as he glanced down at her again. “I will tell you all you want to know, pet. If you behave tonight,” he added as a sort of warning. “I already know I will jump back in time to watch your pretty eyes fill with tears when we fuck you.”

She panted, her mouth open to argue the legality of such action, but he only shook his head, as though he knew exactly what she was thinking about. 

“Please—” she begged again, her voice rough. “I’ll do anything.” 

They both chuckled, exchanging a knowing glance as Theo tossed his cloak to the floor. “You know, Draco, I’ve been to Beauxbatons recently.” 

Draco smiled, brow arched as if he knew something. “Have you now?”

“Yeah,” he winked, unbuttoning his uniform, calloused fingers fumbling with the zipper of his jacket. His eyes returned to Hermione as he asked, “Tell me, Golden Girl, have you ever seen the Eiffel Tower?” 

Oh Gods. She was in trouble.

She wasn’t stupid enough to think he meant the actual Eiffel Tower. Blush spread across her neck and chest when the brunette threw her a challenging glance. She heard other girls in the 8th year talking about it once, and the mechanics of it surprised her to this day.

“I—” Words caught in her throat and she wasn’t sure how to speak anymore. “I have.”

Theo hummed with approval. “Let’s not waste more time on small talk then.” 

Hermione’s eyes widened at the bluntness and directness, and though she would hardly call their conversation a small talk, she nodded fervently. 

“Sit on your Professor’s lap.”

“You don’t give orders here, Nott,” Draco snarled, but Hermione wasted no time in rising to her feet and straddling his lap with a wide smile playing on her lips.

A wicked grin found its way onto the brunette’s lips—a promise of sorts. “I always give orders.”

Draco rolled his eyes but didn’t protest. It was odd—to see her Professor giving away control so easily, to see his body relaxing as he ran his eyes down his friend’s body. She wondered if it felt the same for him as it did for her. Liberating. Thrilling, but in the best way possible.

“Do you remember your safe word?” he asked when her thoughts drifted away from their current settings. As usual, his stern yet gentle voice brought her back to reality. “Pet?”

Her cheeks flushed with yet another shade of dark red at the nickname and the chuckle that left Professor’s Nott mouth, but she only glanced up at Draco, smiling sheepishly.

“Ginger,” she replied. 

“That’s my girl.”

She rolled her hips in response, a different kind of warmth filling her as Draco stroked her hair with gentleness and care. Maybe it was stupid and naïve of her, but she trusted him completely; trusted he would do nothing to hurt her. Most of her classmates would consider her relationship with the young professor unacceptable. Circe, she would have probably considered it as such if it hadn’t been her involved in it.

But after years of war and fighting; after years of sacrificing every piece of her soul and heart for her friends and the so-called greater good, she was done caring about others’ opinions. She was an adult and she could do whatever she wanted to do—no matter how debauched some of Draco’s ideas seemed.

Consequences be damned.

As Draco grabbed her face, pulling her down so their lips could meet in another passionate, bruising kiss, she heard a clunk of a metal belt buckle, followed by a rustle of harsh fabric. Though she didn’t know it was possible, she felt Draco’s cock harden against her stomach, pressing into her skin as his hands possessively roamed her back and kneaded her arse.

Breaking the kiss, Draco angled her head and purred in her ear. “You’re fucking perfect.”

“Hate to break your sweet moments, lovebirds,” Theodore said in a voice that only a man of power bore. “But you are both ridiculously overdressed.”

“Undress me, then,” Professor Malfoy whispered in a low, sensual voice. “Don’t I deserve a birthday present?”

Hermione nearly choked, her brows knitting together as she brought his face to meet his stare. “It’s your birthday today?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, his hand closing around her wrist. “Why do you think we have a guest tonight? And not just any guest?”

Behind her, Theodore chuckled, muttering something under his nose. But she couldn’t make any words properly as she focused on the striking face in front of her—of the man who wouldn’t even tell her it was his birthday. She vaguely remembered him mentioning he was born in June once, but she never inquired about the specific date—didn’t think she was entitled to know such a personal detail. 

“I thought it was an accident—”

“My office is warded better than the Ministry of Magic, darling. Do not think I would let anyone walk in on us—and see you the way only I am allowed to see.”

She felt so stupid, and all she wanted to do was to bury her face in the crook of his neck, but he shook his head, nudging her nose with the tip of his index finger. “I didn’t know you’re inclined to voyeurism, but I will definitely consider this in the future.”

“Is your room ready, Draco?” the Durmstrang Professor inquired, sauntering across the room until his front pressed against her chest. Even with his shirt still on, she could feel the heat radiating off his skin, the warmth of his hard cock pressing between her shoulder blades. 

She leaned back instinctively, and with a snap of his fingers, all her clothes—save for the ruined lacy knickers, vanished. A surprised gasp slipped past her lips, but it was quickly replaced by a louder, more desperate moan, as Theo’s hands found her breasts.

He weighed them with the palms of his hands, cupping and kneading, and a hum of appreciation reverberated off his chest, sending bolts of arousal straight to her core. With her head resting against his abdomen, she let him play with her pierced nipples, the silver wings sticking out from each side and causing her to shiver as he traced them cautiously with his fingers. 

“Is this a Muggle thing?” he asked, curiosity dripping from his tone, and rolled her hard nipples between his thumb and index finger. She nodded, eyes half-closed as he pinched each of her buds. “Do you have any others?”

“Not yet,” Professor Malfoy answered for her, his voice rough with arousal. “But we’ve discussed other placements.”

Another hum of approval. “I believe a tongue one would be beneficial.”

“That’s exactly what I told her.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out, throwing a challenging glance at Draco as she did so. “And I told Professor Malfoy there is something I would find equally beneficial. If he only agreed…”

“Yeah?” Theo murmured, pushing his steel-hard cock between her shoulder blades. “Do tell, Miss Granger. Maybe together we have a chance to convince him.”

She couldn’t see his face, but she could have sworn he winked at her. His right hand slid up to her throat, fingers closing around it easily. Draco shook his head, watching her through his sultry eyes, as she languidly stroked his cock—slowly and gently, but enough to make his lids flutter. 

“I’m not getting my cock pierced,” there was no place for argument in that stern tone, and yet she felt Theodore Nott chuckle. He tightened his grip on her throat, thumb pressing against her pulse point—hard enough to make her squirm. “Don’t look at me like that, Nott,” Draco said and she could only imagine Theo’s amused expression. “You wouldn’t get one either—”

“Oh, but maybe I would,” he teased. “Want it to be my birthday present for you?”

Draco’s eyes darkened. “You would do that for me?”

“After all we’ve been through, I hardly think a cock piercing is something extreme.”

Though she didn’t want to inquire what exactly did that mean, she suspected their lives weren’t easy—especially after their families had been dragged through dirt during and after the war. Professor Malfoy talked little about his past, and even if she wanted to know, she felt like it wasn’t her place to ask.

With a sudden rush of courage, Hermione circled Draco’s frenulum with her fingers, gathering the sticky beads of precome leaking from his slit. “It would go right here, Professor,” she said, smiling sheepishly at him. “I’ve been told it makes everything more… intense. Not only for the receiver of the pleasure, but for you as well.”

The blonde’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as she rocked her hips back and forth on his lap, squeezing the base of his thick cock. “And where, pray tell, would such a good girl like you heard about it?”

“People talk, Professor,” she said. “Especially drunk Muggles on holidays.”

With a possessiveness she only ever knew from him, Draco grabbed her chin, tilting it up. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Later was already so much better than what he said previously, when she first suggested it—disagreeing straight away, with a hint of distaste in his voice. Even if, as she suspected, he would eventually back out, it was good Draco was ready to consider it.

“See, I knew we’d convince him,” Theo mused.

“Would you really get one too, Headmaster Nott?” she inquired, mischief dancing on her lips. 

He cocked his head to the side before answering. “First, you call me Theo, yeah?” Hermione nodded, though she couldn’t say she wasn’t surprised by his request. “And of course I would. I didn’t know it was a thing—but I’m really curious about it now, and as a scholar, I should test it out myself, don’t you think?”

The deep timbre of his voice and the sensual way he pronounced every word made her inner walls flutter. “You’re making a mess, pet,” Draco clicked his tongue. “All because of what Theo said? Aren’t you a desperate little whore, huh?”

“Sorry,” she murmured, though she wasn’t sorry at all. And she couldn’t help that her body reacted the way it did at the young headmaster’s words. “Those piercings are just really exciting, that’s it.”

“I see what you did there.”

She smiled innocently. “Good.”

Silence lingered between the three of them for a moment, as if everyone was considering what to do next and how to do it. Hermione found herself slightly nervous about two men filling her at the same time, but she trusted Professor Malfoy. 

And if he trusted Theo, then so would she. 

Ultimately, it was the brunette who took control of the situation, just as he promised he would. Casting a non-verbal spell, he vanished Draco’s clothes, not leaving anything on. Her mouth went dry. It didn’t matter she’d seen him naked countless times before. 

This, somehow, felt different. In a good way. 

“Lie back,” he ordered Draco. 

“On a chair?” Professor Malfoy bit back, rolling his eyes. “How do you imagine—” 

With a flick of his wrist, Theodore Nott transfigured the chair into a rather large lounge. Hermione’s eyes shimmered at the impressive display of magic, and she was only a little ashamed that it made her even wetter. Gods, she was embarrassing.  

“Show off.” 

“Now, you, Princess,” ignoring Draco, he returned his focus to her, blue eyes fixed on her parted lips. “With your back facing the birthday boy, I want you to warm his cock. Get him nice and ready with that perfect cunt of yours.” 

She moaned, her face contorting into a grimace. She was going to explode if he told her to stay still for another minute or so. Already overstimulated from the past couple of hours, she just wanted a release—in whatever way they would give her. “P-please…” 

Hermione shifted on Draco’s hips, rocking her hips back and forth, before Theo grabbed her braid and pulled her backwards. He wasn’t gentle by any means, just as he promised, and she found herself grinning at him, darting her tongue out to wet her lips.

“You little brat,” he growled, tugging at her roots. “Turn around and do as I say, or I will make sure you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

She clenched around nothing at his words, her mind already flooded with images of what he could do to her. Hermione bit down on her lip, knowing all too well that whatever he had in mind wouldn’t be entirely for her pleasure. 

Was it wrong, however, that she wanted to be used by him? Was it wrong that she wanted those large, calloused hands to wrap around her neck as he fucked her from behind in the broom closet next to the Great Hall?

He gave her a hard stare, its coldness freezing blood in her veins. Even though he’d been here for at least half an hour now, she could still see the last remnants of snowflakes in his chestnut curls. “I don’t particularly enjoy repeating myself. Go on.” 

The authority in his voice made her obey his command at once, cheeks flustered with a deep, red blush. Draco and Theo exchanged a knowing look as her Potions Professor guided her hips onto his cock, slowly helping her take him, until he was buried in her to the hilt. 

They groaned in unison as their bodies joined once more, and this time she knew Draco was holding back, his fingers sinking so deep into her skin it would surely leave an assortment of purple and yellow bruises the next morning. She felt his every inhale and exhale deep in her core, waves of warmth spreading across her entire body—a living fire burning her in the most pleasant way possible. 

Theo ran an eye over her in a way that made her face burn and breathing intensify. Sapphire eyes gleamed with lust so primal she would’ve shuddered, had it not been for Draco’s hands holding her in place. 

“Undo your hair,” another order from the Durmstrang Headmaster, one she wasn’t even bothering to challenge this time.

Her fingers fumbled in her hair, untying the lousy braid she gathered her curls in this morning. When she was finished, she shook her head slightly, earning a loud hiss from Draco, his hands steady on her hips.

“Place your hands on the settee and lean slightly back,” with each word he said, his voice grew harsher and harsher, more like a growl. “Tilt your head back until those beautiful curls touch your professor’s chest.”

She did as he asked, frowning because she wasn’t sure what was the purpose of Nott’s orders. 

In the meantime, he conjured a camera with such ease she felt a pang of jealousy at his exceptional skills. The same smirk she’d seen so many times on Draco’s face crept up onto his lips too. Bright, nearly white light of the camera flash nearly blinded her as he tested the machine, tossing the picture that came out on the desk behind him.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered, taking two steps backwards. “And you, Draco, move one of your hands to her stomach—yeah, just like that.” 

“Thought you’ve forgotten about me, mate,” the blonde complained, but his right hand slid from her hip to the middle of her belly. His thumb rested above her navel, pressing tightly. “You feel it, pet? This is how deep you’re taking me.”

With eyes still closed, she hummed with appreciation, knowing how the small vibrations of her vocal cords will affect him. Unsurprisingly, he cursed under his breath, bucking his hips ever-so-slightly. If Theo noticed anything, he didn’t say a word, but she heard another two clicks of the camera’s shutter release. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the brunette placed the camera on the desk and clicked his tongue, his quiet footsteps indicating he was getting closer. “Spread your legs wider for me. Draco will help you.” 

He did. And she felt every single flex of his muscle, every smallest movement and caress of his skin against hers. Draco’s hands moved to her inner thighs, spreading her legs as she instinctively clenched around his cock. She felt so full, so stretched—and yet it wasn’t enough, not with the promise of what was going to come later. 

Her eyes snapped open when she felt another set of hands on her legs, calloused and yet somewhat gentle as Theo’s thumbs rubbed circles on her skin. Eyes glazed with lust and anticipation, she glanced down at him just in time to see him sink to his knees between her and Draco.

With that wicked grin never leaving his handsome face, he murmured, “I’m going to taste you, but you may not come until I say so. Understood?” 

“Yes,” she breathed. But she wasn’t sure she could keep her word this time. 

Her mind was already clouded with lust, vision blurring with every breath she and Draco simultaneously took, and now—Gods help her—with Theo’s featherlight touch against her clit.

Fuck.

She was going to explode, and he would surely punish her for that later.

“And you?” Theo asked, and it took her a second to realise he was talking to Draco, his hand cupping the other man’s balls. Her Professor groaned, squeezing her hips. 

“Fuck, mate—” 

“One would think you would have more restraint by now, Draco,” the brunette tsked, releasing his grip on Draco’s sack. “Perhaps we ought to teach you some discipline later. Miss Granger is excellent at following orders. You, on the other hand, not so much.”

She didn’t know what made her more aroused—Professor Malfoy's cock twitching in her pussy at every word Theodore Nott uttered in his direction. The other man’s thumb pressed to her clit, or the way he spoke to Draco; scolding him as if he—not her—was just a schoolboy. 

All the above, probably. 

In the blissful haze she was currently in, she didn’t even notice when Theo lowered his head between her thighs. A cold, delicate breeze brushed past her slit, and all it took was one swipe of his tongue against her clit, one lazy circle around the bundle of nerves for the most desperate cry to erupt from her throat.

Both Theo and Draco’s hands squeezed her thighs harder, two sets of fingers sinking into her slick with sweat skin. Professor Nott ducked lower, dragging his tongue down, down, down—to the point her and Draco’s bodies met. 

She shuddered, clenching so hard around Draco he growled like a wounded animal. Theo only laughed, puffs of air caressing her sensitive flesh. “You’re both so fucking desperate,” he taunted, his right hand sliding down to Draco’s balls again. He teased and played, licked and squeezed—and they were both at his mercy, even if Theo was the one kneeling for them. 

“Do you want to come, little one?” he asked, pinching her clit and drawing yet another cry out of her. He chuckled at her reaction and repeated his previous action until her head fell backwards. “I thought so.”

“Please…” she moaned, any thoughts other than this pathetic need to come evaporating from her head. 

“Help her,” Theo ordered, pulling away from her heated core. His chin glistened with her arousal, mixed with Draco’s, and he winked at her, licking his lips in a tantalising manner. “I love when you beg so nicely, Princess.”

“I can beg all night,” she teased.

“Oh, you certainly will.”

Professor Malfoy definitely didn’t have to be told twice, because before she thought of a response, she felt him shift underneath her and tilt his hips, pushing his cock further—though she didn’t think it was even possible. 

She grabbed the edges of the settee; her knuckles quickly turning white. It was a tad embarrassing how quickly she would come, but after an entire afternoon of stimulation and edging, she was surprised she lasted even those few seconds. 

When she felt another set of hands on her waist, she opened her eyes and met Theodore Nott, grinning at her. He helped her move up, until only the tip of Draco’s cock was inside her, and then slammed her hips back down, impaling her on the blonde’s cock.

“Fuck!” she screamed, and he repeated the same move two more times, revelling in Hermione and Draco’s screams of pleasure and agony. “I’m so—bloody hell—”

“Such foul language, Miss Granger. I think we need to take care of that.” Professor Nott scolded her, releasing the grip on her waist. She didn’t trust herself to bounce on Draco’s cock the same way she did with Theo’s help, so she let her professor do the rest of the work. 

She was so close she was almost crying. His cock stretched her out like it never had before, filling every inch of her, caressing every part of her spongy walls. 

“Open your mouth,” the brunette ordered, and without waiting for an invitation, he thrust into her mouth. 

His hands held her head in place as he let her adjust for less than a heartbeat. As promised, he was not gentle at all, fucking her throat until she gagged on his cock and tears streamed down her cheeks, mascara smudges painted all over her face. He was slightly thicker than Draco, and, as she tried to hollow her cheeks around him, for the first time she wondered how the hell would both of them fit?

It took everything in her not to bite Theo as the first orgasm of the day washed over her like a tidal wave, destroying every trace of sanity in its way. She moaned loudly, but with her mouth full, the sound was muffled. 

Theo kept fucking her mouth relentlessly as Draco continued to thrust into her cunt, both of them making the world around her go blurry. Her body trembled and burnt, sweat dripping down her temples. “I’m going to paint those pretty tits of yours with my come, yeah, Princess?”

She hummed—or at least tried to as he pulled out, a string of saliva connecting her chin with the red head of his cock. Slightly hazed, he gave himself a few more strokes and slapped her cheeks with his wet and warm cock before she felt ribbons of something hot on her chest. 

Professor Nott came with a loud, throaty groan that made her pussy throb again. When he was done spilling on her tits, he traced circles on her nipples with the head of his cock, gathering some of his come, and smeared it all over her chest—including the golden piercings in her nipples. 

“So pretty,” he said in a low, husky voice, taking a step back as if he were an artist admiring his new favourite piece. His gaze lingered on her pierced nipples for a long, long moment before he returned his attention to her doe eyes. “You are fantastic at sucking cock. Outstanding , isn’t that what your grading system says?”

Hermione only nodded, panting heavily as another orgasm was already building in her core. Professor Malfoy kept fucking her relentlessly, and his hand was now on her clit, the back of his palm pressing hard against her slit. He didn’t even have to move it. The delicious pressure was enough to make her world shatter into a million pieces, only to be put back together a heartbeat later.

He spilled his seed inside her only seconds later, cursing under his breath as his hands slid up to her tits, finding the evidence of Theo’s arousal still warm against her skin. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, helping her to get up and sit next to him on the ridiculously large settee Theo had conjured. He sat down himself, his chest heaving. “Let me see your tits. Now.”

She obeyed, silently turning around and resting her bum on her ankles. Draco let out a low whistle, admiring his friend’s work. Hermione smiled, feeling lightheartedly as ever. “You like that, Professor? To see me like this, covered in another man’s come?”

Hermione wasn’t sure what possessed her to talk like that, but she heard Theo inhale sharply, and suddenly Draco’s mouth was on her chest. He left a wet trail of sloppy kisses between her breasts and moved to her nipples, swirling his tongue around them as if he wanted to lick them clean. She moaned softly when he closed her mouth around her right nipple, teeth sinking into her flesh. 

“Delicious,” he said as he pulled away, his gaze flickering between her and Theo. She groaned at the loss of his mouth on her, relishing in the last remnants of the warmth it left on her skin. “Like icing on a cake.”

“Didn’t know you had a sweet tooth, mate,” Theo mused.

“Just for you,” he replied. “Both of you.”

Hermione giggled, which earned a curious glance from Professor Malfoy, but he said nothing. Instead, he conjured a white shirt that he’d handed her, and another one for himself. 

She put it on, fingers slowly doing the buttons. “Are we—”

“You asked if my room was ready.” Draco jerked his chin at Theodore. A shy smile crept upon her lips at the mere mention of the Professor’s bedroom in the castle, in which she had never been before. They always met either in his office or in her Head Girl’s dormitory if no one was around. “It’s not. Don’t you think it’s time we go home?”

“Home?” she repeated, the word foreign on her tongue. 

Her heart did a backflip in her chest and rose to her throat, suffocating her. Suddenly, she felt like she was going to be sick, all warmth slowly slipping away. Sick with worry, sick with uncertainty, and the promise of what the four-letter word bore. 

Home.

She hadn’t had a home for years, ever since the war forced her to do unforgivable things to her parents and friends. Hermione didn’t dare return to the outskirts of London, where she knew for sure her old house stood empty, abandoned. With her parents safe in Australia, with no memories of their daughter, there was no point in living there. 

It was the reason it took her three years to return to England and finish her education. She never wanted to finish her eighth year with people she knew—or used to know, before war destroyed all their lives and shattered their souls to pieces. 

So she waited. Travelled around the world, got irresponsible and drunk every night, partied heavily and forgot about the old Hermione Granger. Until it was time to come back and face her fears. 

She considered herself lucky that fate put Draco in her way. Even if he didn’t know, his presence in her life was the only thing that kept her going. 

But she had never expected him to take her to his home. What they had was nice and comforting, and it went far beyond the physical aspect of it. However, they never discussed it and she became adept at ignoring those topics with him, always shutting him up or steering the conversation away in a different direction. 

Because she was scared. So pathetically scared of rejection, she would rather live in the little bubble of safety and Draco’s promises and sweet words whispered into her ear as she fell asleep. It was easier to expect the worst from him than ever to be disappointed again. 

With a gentle smile, he pried her hands away from the buttons of his shirt and tilted her chin up so she would look at him. “If this is too much for you, Hermione, we can stay in the castle.”

Too much for what?, she thought. They weren’t a couple—couldn’t be for the next two months. But even then, she didn’t expect him to want her. No one ever wanted her, not in that way. She was not a girlfriend material, that’s what all men in her life had told her. Too swotty, too smart, too prude, too slutty. Always too something.

People wanted to be her friends—or more—after the war. The same people who bullied and mocked her before she became famous. Girls who called her an attention whore for being Harry’s friend, girls who laughed at her behind her back. Boys who only treated her as an achievement, a prize. 

“Hey, baby,” Draco’s soft voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Just say a word and we’ll stop. I thought you wanted—”

“No. I—” her voice broke and the facade of a perfect student she built along with it. There was so much to unpack here, and she didn’t want to do it with Theodore present. Didn’t want to do it when it was Draco’s birthday—when it was supposed to be all about him. “I want to go.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, his voice tinged with worry. 

She sniffed, perhaps a little too loud, but shook her head. “Later. It’s your birthday and I want us to celebrate even if you didn’t tell me before...”

It was yet another thing she didn’t want to admit out loud—felt stupid to think of it, let alone talk about it. Draco didn’t tell her about his birthday, although he planned something rather special for the day. Was he hoping she wouldn’t find out?

“You might not realise that yet, but I know you, Hermione,” he said. “I knew you would stress over getting me a present and I didn’t want to add more to your pile—especially with the exams and end of school year.”

“You still could’ve told me,” she replied, her voice quiet. Shy. With her eyes fixed on the floor, she tried to blink away the tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes. 

God, she was so stupid sometimes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would be so important for you.”

Her lips trembled, and she swallowed hard, as a bile formed in her throat. Neither Draco nor Theo said anything, giving her the space to collect the treacherous and self-sabotaging thoughts that invaded her brain like a disease. 

“That’s okay. I think—I think there are things we need to talk about. Tomorrow,” she added when he exchanged a worried glance with Theo. “Tonight we have fun.”

A deep crease formed on his forehead as he petted her head. “Alright. But if something’s wrong, I want you to tell me, okay? And don’t be afraid of Theo,” he added after a second. “He’s only pretending to be so cold and mean—”

“I’m not cold and mean. I am in control,” Theo corrected, accentuating each word. “It’s not my fault you are terrible at obeying the orders I’m giving you.”

“I can see your lips moving, but all I hear is bullshit.”

The brunette rolled his eyes and leant over to brush Hermione’s nose with his. The gesture was so surprisingly soft she blinked once, then twice, earning a soft chuckle from him. “I have a feeling you like giving away control, Princess, but say a word and I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Deal?”

“Okay,” she agreed.

And then Theo’s lips crashed with hers for the first time in a slow and gentle kiss, as if he were proving to her he truly could be whatever she wished. 

“Shall we?” Draco cleared his throat, breaking their kiss. “Before Nott gets all soppy and crying on the couch because of a dead tiger?”

“It was a lion!”

Hermione furrowed. “Have you—you’ve watched The Lion King?”

They nodded in unison, and it was only then when Hermione realised how young they both were. She knew Draco was hardly thirteen years older than her, which wasn’t that much, but from the way their relationship functioned, it always felt as though he was at least twice her age. He never let her see the—she supposed—normal, domestic side of his. The side that apparently enjoyed Muggle movies and cuddling on a couch with Theodore Nott. 

And she really wanted to get to know this side, too. 

“There’s so many things I want to ask.”

“You’ll get a chance in the morning,” Professor Malfoy said. “I really am done talking for now, Miss Granger.” 

There it was. 

The switch in his head snapped back to their usual interactions, and she shuddered with anticipation when he entwined his fingers with hers. Theo grabbed her other hand, murmuring something in her ear before they led her into the massive fireplace in the corner of Draco’s office. 

“Home,” Draco said, his eyes never leaving hers. 

She smiled as the green flames consumed her. 

Home.

Draco Malfoy’s house was unlike anything she expected it to be. While his office was being rather impersonal and empty, she thought his manor to be exactly the same. Especially from the stories she’d heard about the Malfoy family in the past. 

Granted, they used the Floo network connected directly to his bedroom, but her mother used to say that you can judge one’s personality based on that room—the most personal one, itself. 

And Draco’s bedroom was beautiful. Grey tapestry that reminded her of a pine forest somewhere deep, deep in the north hung from the walls, calm and majestic at the same time. One wall was entirely covered with a large bookshelf, with tomes and scrolls filling every inch of it. She dragged her eyes through some titles, marvelling at the books most of the wizarding world thought to be long forgotten. 

“There’s a library in the east wing,” Professor Malfoy said, noticing where her attention was focused. Hermione didn’t look away from the bookshelves, trying to memorise every title and author, trying to get to know this man better. “I’ll show you in the morning, if you want.”

“If she’ll be able to walk, you mean?” Theo joked.

“I will carry her if I have to,” Draco retorted, and she knew he meant it.

Her heart fluttered in her chest, but she kept her emotions at bay. “It’s Sunday—I have school tomorrow.”

Draco gripped her by her waist and spun her around, pulling her close to his chest before he kissed her with such passion her knees nearly buckled. She moaned into his mouth, a moment he used to slide his tongue inside her, dragging the tip across her upper teeth. 

Behind her, she heard Theo humming happy birthday under his breath and discarding his clothes, which at this point were nothing more than a t-shirt and trousers. 

“I’m sure the Headmaster won’t mind if the Golden Girl misses one day of class,” Draco said after she had to shove him away to catch a breath. “Besides, you have only two exams left. I’ll cover for you if I have to.”

“What if someone finds out?”

“No one will know you were with us, Hermione. But if you want, I’ll bring you back to Hogwarts tonight. You don’t have to decide now,” he added when she opened her mouth to voice another concern. 

She nodded instead, happy to have yet another few hours to make up her mind. She wanted to stay—she really did, but the thought of anyone finding out she was sleeping with her teacher filled her stomach with dread. The headlines that Skeeter would come up with already flashed in front of her eyes, each worse than the previous one. 

Hermione knew the longer she hesitated, the more likely she was to change her mind about all of this. For a second, when she saw how Draco and Theo looked at each other, with such adoration and care in their stares, she felt like an intruder. Like she didn’t belong. 

“So,” she cleared her throat as she gathered every ounce of courage she could muster. “The tower…how does it work exactly?”

“Didn’t you say you heard about it?”

“I did, but on second thought, I think we have something different in mind…”

Theo raised his brows, and she briefly explained the idea she had heard from the girls in Spain last summer. Draco nearly choked on air when she got to the point of the high-five, and both men immediately refused to do that. 

“Well,” the brunette started, rubbing his temples. “We thought it was something else, yes.”

“Which is…?”

They then proceeded to explain, a smirk melting on Theo’s lips as her pupils dilated slightly at the mere thought of that. A scorching wave of heat washed over her when Professor Malfoy ripped the shirt he had just helped her with putting on, buttons flying in every direction. 

He pushed her into Theo’s arms until her back was pressed against his hot chest. “You wanna take her arse or cunt?”

The brunette shrugged, his hands cupping her breasts. “It’s your birthday, you get to choose.”

Draco’s silver eyes sparkled mischievously as he fixed his gaze on her swollen lips. “What do you say, Hermione?” The sound of her name on his lips was intoxicating. Sinful in the best way possible. She never wanted to be further from God than at this moment, when the syllables rolled off his tongue like a promise. An oath. “Think you can take Theo in that tight arse of yours?”

“If I can take you, then I surely can take him.”

Behind her, Theo let out a choked sound, his fingers immediately founding its way to her throat, squeezing painfully. She arched against him, the hand on her throat blocking any gasp coming out of her chest.  

He leaned down and purred in her ear, his voice deadly calm, “Don’t make me punish you, Princess.”

She wiggled her arse and ground against his hardening cock, earning a rather desperate growl from him and a wink from Draco, who noticed the slight movement of her hips. 

“I’ll fuck you into oblivion,” he said and released the grip on her throat.

Hermione giggled, gasping for air. “Is that a promise?”

His sapphire eyes darkened, the brightness replaced by a dangerous midnight blue as he spun her around. One hand kneading her arse, the other traced a tantalisingly slow pattern on her back. “That’s a threat, darling. And you better take it seriously.”

“I like danger, Headmaster ,” she replied, smiling sheepishly. “I’ve stolen a dragon and rode it, did you know? If I can handle—”

It was Draco this time who silenced her, spanking her buttocks with lethal precision. Heat poured through her as she heard him move, his hand in the air, and then—another smack. And another, his palm flat against her skin.

Theo gripped her waist, bending her over his brawny arm and shoving her forward by pressing at her back. Muscles flexed as she wrapped her fingers around him. “ Harder ,” he ordered with a growl, his free hand fisting her damp with sweat curls. 

He didn’t have to be told twice. The roughness of the next slap made her knees buckle, and if it wasn’t for Theo holding her, she would probably end up on the floor. 

“She’s already drenched,” Professor Malfoy said. He slid his fingers to her slit, kicking her ankles apart as he dipped two fingers inside. “You’re going to ruin my carpet, Hermione.”

“I—”

“Did I tell you to speak?” Theo moved his hand from her hair to her face, pushing three fingers into her mouth and hooking them behind her teeth. She let out a muffled moan.  “Again, Draco.”

Her breathing became ragged, nostrils flaring as Draco landed slap after slap, alternating between both sides of her arse. With the back of her body pressed against Theo’s front, she could feel his cock strained between them. 

“One more,” he said, pulling his hand from her mouth and wiping her saliva on his thigh. Her legs were shaking from the spanking, the roughness from Draco’s fingers teasing her clit from time to time. “If she keeps dripping like that, we won’t need any lube.”

They both chuckled at Theo’s comment, as if they were joking about something trivial. Something mundane. 

Draco spanked her one last time, gentler this time—and let his hands roam her butt for a moment, as though caressing the sensitive flesh. Hermione was sure it would bruise, as would every part of her body they gripped her or kissed or bit. 

And she didn’t mind it one bit. 

“You okay, baby?” Draco asked, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. 

“More than,” she replied truthfully, to which Draco only smiled. And hell, if it wasn’t the most genuine and intimate smile he’d ever given her. 

He summoned his wand and cast a quick lubrication charm. The coldness of the lube mixed with her hot arousal, sending a shiver down her spine. “If you want us—any of us to stop, just say a word. Do you remember it?”

“Ginger.”

“I assume there’s a story behind that safe word, one I would really love to hear,” Theo joked, stroking her nape with shocking gentleness. 

She hummed. “I’ll tell you later.”

With no warning, Theo grabbed her by her waist and lifted her up with such easiness as if she weighed nothing, her feet dangling inches above the ground. Draco ran a hand through his already dishevelled curls, sweeping them away from his forehead and closing the remaining distance between them, grabbing her by the underside of her thighs and lifting her legs.

Her back was firmly pressed to Theo’s chest as he worked one, then two fingers into her arse, the lube making him slide in and out with almost no resistance. She moaned, her head resting on his shoulder, and then he slowly lowered her until she felt the tip of his cock against her puckered hole. 

Draco still held her by her legs, letting both her and Theo adjust to the new position. His breath was hot against her hair, nearly scorching as he stretched her inch by inch. Even with the lube, it hurt at first—a pleasant and exciting type of pain.

“Fuck, Princess,” he purred into her ear, his voice breathless. Hoarse. He tightened his grip on her waist and nodded at Draco. “What are you waiting for?”

“I’m just memorising this moment,” he said, grinding his cock against her slick cunt. “I should’ve taken a picture.”

“We’ll take pictures later. Come on—”

A low, sensual purr. “Who’s desperate now, Theodore?”

If she thought her name sounded sinful on Draco's mouth, then Theo's name must have been coming from the Devil himself.

Hermione could barely keep her eyes open with Theo buried in her arse, but judging by the smug, dazed expression that melted into Draco’s features, she could tell he was desperate too. He released one of her thighs, his hand quickly replaced by Theo’s as he closed his fingers around the base of his cock, giving it a few strokes. When she was ready to beg him to do something—anything, he nudged her clit a few times before he positioned himself at her entrance. 

“Fuck.”

She wasn’t sure if she was the only one who cursed, or the three of them at the same time, when Draco eased himself into her. But she was sure it was she who hissed when he was fully seated inside. 

“You’re so fucking tight,” Draco murmured, his voice and gaze and smile laced with lust. “Is this okay?”

She almost cried in response. “Yes. Just—please, move.”

"Desperate to be filled and fucked, I see."

They exchanged a curt nod and started to slowly lift her up and down their cocks, all three of them adjusting to the intensity of the position. She brought her hands up and grabbed Theo’s shoulders, her red-polished nails sinking into his skin. 

“Wanna leave marks on me too, eh?” Theo taunted, squeezing her waist in response. “You feel so good, Princess. So tight, so fucking wet.”

She knew she was already a mess, slick arousal dripping from her both holes, coating their cocks as they continued to slide her up and down, up and down, up and down. The pace intensified soon enough, each of them thrust harder and deeper, drawing cries and curses and moans from all three of them. 

It was such a weird and demanding position—to be fucked in the air by not one but to men. She felt her inner wall clench around them, and they stilled for a second, causing her eyes to snap open. Just as she was about to protest, another wave of arousal washed over her. 

Draco leaned down, his chest so close to hers she wasn’t sure she could breathe, and slammed his mouth against Theo’s. Teeth clashed, tongues danced, and all she could do was to marvel at the deep, guttural voices that erupted from the bottom of their chests. Sle clenched around them again and scratched Theo’s shoulders, as if she was begging for attention. 

Which she absolutely was. 

She could feel the orgasm—probably the most intense one she’d ever experience—build in her core, simmering like a potion that threatened to boil over if wasn’t given enough attention. 

“Got any cake for me, Nott?” Draco asked as he pulled away from the kiss, his lips swollen and red, cheeks flushed. Hermione nearly rolled her eyes at the innuendo, but smiled at her professor instead.

As they increased the pace of their thrusts again, she was nearly done—one foot already over the edge of the cliff that would let her jump into the waters of pleasure and sin. 

Panting heavily, Theo cursed under his breath. Beads of sweat gathered on his eyebrows, tiny droplets threatening to drip down his sharp cheekbones. “No, but Miss Granger looks like she’s more than willing to reward us with some creampies… right, Hermione?” 

She moaned, her head falling onto his shoulder as they slammed their cocks into her in tandem, reaching spots she didn’t even know existed before . “Y-yeah. Anything,” she nodded, breathless and exhausted. 

“Are you on the Potion?” 

“She is,” Draco confirmed. “I bet she’s dying to be filled up with our come, right pet?” 

“I asked her, not you.”

He chuckled softly, pulling her closer to his chest. “On, please. She’s so cock-drunk she can barely breathe, let alone speak.”

He wasn’t wrong. Not in the slightest. 

Hermione closed her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks as Theo brought his hand between their bodies and teased her already overstimulated clit. She shuddered, her chest heaving up and down when she tried to control her breathing. 

It was pointless to deny what Professor Malfoy had said. As much as it was pointless to deny that it wasn’t fucking arousing to watch the two of them kiss earlier.

The orgasm hit her like an avalanche—her entire body shaking, her throat dry from the loud scream that erupted from her chest, tearing her lungs apart. She squeezed her eyes shut, limp against Theo’s chest, her inner walls still contracting as they filled her cunt and arse with their loads. 

Utterly spent, she moaned when she felt their hot come inside her, soon to be dripping down her legs. She’d never felt anything like this—the fullness, the stretch. It was delicious. Deliciously painful. 

They slowly eased her off their cocks, and Draco asked her to wrap her hands around his neck before he carried her to the master bathroom. Theo followed, his footsteps looming behind. Her inner thighs were slick with their arousals, and she knew Theo kept his distance to watch it gush out of her holes. As in confirmation, she heard him suck in a sharp breathe. A curse slipped past his lips as he caught up with them.

His fingers danced on her lower back, teasing and testing her reactions. She shuddered, her chest flush against Draco's. Theo ran his thumb from her arse, down her slit until he reached her clit and rubbed it gently, middle finger pushing their come back inside her cunt. 

"I think I've developed a sweet tooth for you, too." Though she couldn't see him, she heard the obscene sounds Theo made while licking his fingers clean. Another shiver ran down her spine, causing Draco to chuckle lightly. 

And what a beautiful sound it was.

“You did so well, Hermione,” Draco said, checking the temperature of the water in the bathtub. She was too exhausted to even spare a glance at the enormous bathroom, at the black and silver tiles, at the big mirror that must have cost more than her house. “So fucking perfect.”

She opened her eyes and the exhaustion on her face was quickly replaced with a wide, content smile when she saw his face, his gaze fixed on her as if there was no one else in the world who mattered. “Happy Birthday, Draco.”

He closed his eyes, as if revelling in the way she spoke to him, in the softness of her voice as she called him by his name for the first time, and he smiled too. “Happy birthday, indeed.”