Fic: Surrender
Title: Surrender
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Hermione Granger was furious.
No, she reflected as she paced up and down outside Draco’s penthouse suite. Furious didn’t even begin to describe it. She was livid.
In all her twenty six years of living, Hermione couldn’t remember a time when she was more angry that she was at that moment.
And it was all because of Draco Malfoy.
Not content to make her life as difficult as possible in the seven years they had attended the same school, he had continued on when he had been transferred three years previously to the elite ranks of the special branch of Aurors that investigated the most heinous of wizarding crimes - and had been slotted into the role of Hermione’s partner.
He had certainly lasted longer than any of her previous partners; two of them had asked for reassignments, claiming Hermione’s intellect and thoroughness made their jobs redundant, and her previous partner before Draco had unfortunately met an untimely end.
Hermione had protested, wheedled, threatened, even begged, for Draco to be reassigned to someone else, but her superior had told her in no uncertain terms that he believed Draco perfect for the role and her only recourse was to resign if she really felt she couldn’t work with him.
Of course, Hermione Granger would never allow herself to walk away from a job she excelled at and the people who needed her for that pasty-faced ferret, so she held her chin high and tolerated him.
She never expected him to have become a decent human being in the years between their leaving school and his reassignment. Whenever Hermione thought she’d reached a stage when she’d finally figured her partner out, Draco would do or say something to surprise her.
If Hermione was completely honest, Draco was a damn good Auror. Level-headed, clever, and thorough, he looked at all the evidence and burrowed around like a niffler with a gold coin until he found what he was looking before. Between the two of them, they had racked up the highest percentage of cases solved, and earlier that evening, at the annual inter-Ministry conference in Berlin, were honoured with the highest award that could be bestowed upon an Auror for all their hard work - the Order of Merlin, Second Class.
What had made Hermione livid, however, was the fact that, as part of their acceptance, they had been asked to give a case study on one of their hardest and most dangerous cases -- and Draco had somehow made it sound like he did all the work while Hermione had merely tagged along for the ride. It hadn’t been true, of course; Hermione had put in just as many hours as Draco had and she was the one who had finally been able to put all the pieces together to catch the killer. But to anyone who had listened in on the presentation, Draco had done it all alone, with Hermione as his assistant.
Once they had been given a standing ovation, Draco had turned to Hermione with a smug grin and had taken her hand in his, lifting it up to his lips for a kiss. The crowd had gone wild, of course, and the talk afterwards was all about what a wonderful Auror Draco was and how lucky the Ministry was to have him on the side of good to put the criminals away.
As soon as was politely possible, Hermione had excused herself from the proceedings and gone for a long walk outside the hotel. Even though they were in a foreign city, Hermione was able to navigate her way around. Her German was good, so the few times she got lost, she was able to ask for directions.
Now, here she was, wearing a hole in the carpet outside Draco’s suite, waiting for her partner to return so she could give him a piece of her mind. This had been a long time coming, and Hermione would no longer keep it inside.
“Why am I not surprised to find you here?” Draco said smugly, his voice penetrating her thoughts.
“About time you came back,” Hermione spat. “It’s after 1am.”
“Sorry, Mum,” Draco said in an amused time. “I wasn’t aware I had a curfew.”
Hermione gritted her teeth, determined to stay as cool as possible. “We need to talk.”
Draco looked at her properly for the first time since his arrival. “You’re angry,” he stated, opening the door to his penthouse.
“Angry? No, I’m not angry,” Hermione huffed. “I’m livid.”
Draco held the door open and turned to look at her. “Perhaps you’d best come and be livid in here, then, so nobody else can hear.”
“I don’t care if the entire world hears,” Hermione declared as she stormed into his room. “I suspect they all know you’re the world’s biggest prat anyway.”
“Do you want a drink?” Draco asked, making a beeline for the bar fridge.
“No, I do not want a bloody drink.”
“Well, if you’re going to start yelling at me, I think I’m going to need one.” He poured himself a vodka and sat on the edge of his bed, loosening his robes. “So what’s got your knickers in a twist tonight, Granger?”
“You,” Hermione hissed. “You are the most insufferable prat I have ever had the misfortune to meet.”
“Tell me something I don’t know already.” He threw his vodka back in one gulp and put the glass down on the floor. “What are you really in a tizzy about?”
“Draco Malfoy, you know exactly why I’m annoyed with you.”
Draco looked at her with steely eyes, his voice even and calm. “So I embellished the truth a little.”
“A little? You lied!”
“I didn’t lie. I just told them what they wanted to hear.”
“At my expense?” Hermione felt her eyes well up with tears, and she shook her head forcefully to get rid of them. “Do you know how long I have worked for the Ministry? How hard it has been for me to overcome the prejudices I faced once I got there?” She heard her voice cracking and instantly felt ashamed at the loss of composure. “You did the wrong thing, Draco. I didn’t deserve that.”
He looked at her for such a long time that Hermione was sure he wasn’t going to say anything, but then he swiftly stood up and went over to her. With uncharacteristic gentleness, he cupped her face in his hands and wiped away a tear she didn’t know she’d shed with his thumb.
“I’m sorry, Hermione,” he said quietly. “You’re right, I did the wrong thing.” His thumb continued to move gently over her cheek. “What can I do to make it up to you?”
Hermione was aware of the sexual tension that crackled between them; the attraction had long been present but simmering underneath the surface. Apart from being completely unprofessional to be romantically involved with one’s partner, it was not something Hermione had ever wanted to acknowledge even existed -- least of all to Draco.
“You -- I-- ” Hermione suddenly found herself having difficulty breathing. Draco’s closeness was wreaking havoc on her senses and her heart was thumping wildly against her chest. If she just moved a little closer and he lowered his head…
As if he was reading her mind, Draco dipped his head and closed the distance between them, brushing his lips against hers. Keeping the kiss light, he pulled back after a few seconds.
Their breaths came out in short pants and their eyes remained closed long after their lips had separated. When Hermione finally opened hers, Draco’s silver orbs stared at her intently. “Are you going to curse me now?” he asked, his mouth curling into a half-smile.
“I might,” Hermione said breathily.
“Anything I can do to persuade you against that?”
“Maybe if you kiss me again,” she ventured tentatively, “I might forget I ever wanted to curse you in the first place.”
Draco’s grin was wide. “I’ll do my very best, Miss Granger.”
When he kissed her this time, there was no hesitation. His tongue demanded entrance to her mouth, running along her bottom lip, and when she could no longer deny him, he plundered her mouth so thoroughly that Hermione had to wonder if she’d ever really been kissed before.
His kisses were intoxicating. His hands were not content to stay on her face, either; they roamed her body freely, touching her curves, lingering in some places longer than others. When Draco brought his hand up to cup the full weight of her breast, Hermione couldn’t help but moan loudly against his lips. She wanted him to touch her there, unencumbered with clothing.
She brought her hand up to cover his, encouraging him to squeeze, and the mood in the room shifted from tentative to frantic. Draco unbuttoned her robes, pulling them away from her body, and Hermione in turn stripped him until he was wearing nothing but briefs. Draco let out a ragged gasp when he saw what Hermione had on underneath her robes; he hadn’t pegged her for being a black lace with garters type of witch. But he was infinitely pleased she was; he found himself incredibly aroused by the sight of her.
Not wanting to cease his exploration of her mouth, he placed his hands on her thighs and indicated for her to place them around his waist, which she did with a minimum of fuss. Draco managed to take the necessary steps to reach the bed, and then carefully slid Hermione onto it.
She smiled up at him, her expression a mixture of innocence and wantonness. He knew she was fighting the same internal battle as he was; wanting to deny the attraction between them, believing it necessary to keep their relationship strictly professional. But as Hermione Granger lay on his bed, clad only in her underwear and wearing a lazy smile, Draco Malfoy somehow knew the line they had been inching towards for years had suddenly been crossed.
He crawled onto the bed over her, leaning down to take her mouth in a bruising kiss, then slithered lower, placing gentle kisses on her skin. His fingers traced around the edge of her bra, and as he blew gently, her nipples hardened, aching for his touch. He licked her nipple through her bra and Hermione’s back arched, wanting more. Draco held her down, enjoying her reaction. What her body was doing to him should have been against the law. He couldn’t remember the last time a witch had gotten him so hard.
“Draco,” she moaned breathily, panting heavily. “Oh, God.”
“I know, Hermione,” he said, giving her other nipple a loving lick. “Soon.”
He trailed his mouth lower, leaving kisses as he went, then raised his head as he reached the nexus of her thighs. Unclipping her garters one by one, he rolled her stockings down, then spread her legs and kissed his way up the inside of her thigh. Hermione whimpered beneath him, desperate for completion.
She wasn’t content to remain still as Draco moved higher, and her reaction to his touch got to the point where he thought he would just explode on the spot if he wasn’t inside her. So with practiced fingers, he removed the rest of her underwear, then pulled off his briefs.
Once they were both naked and wanting, he moved back on top of her and positioned himself at her entrance. He kissed her lips, then pulled back far enough so he could watch her face as he eased himself inside her.
It took everything Draco had not to come right there as he buried himself to the hilt. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck; they lay together silently for long moments as Draco allowed Hermione time to adjust to the feel of him. He knew it had been a long time for her; she hadn’t dated in the three years he’d known her other than a few casual dinners, and Hermione didn’t strike him as the type of witch who indulged in one-night stands. He was fairly sure he could be safe in his assumption that Hermione had not had sex for a few years.
The urge to move consumed him, so he withdrew and pushed back in slowly a few times until Hermione encouraged him to go on. Together, they set a fast pace and neither was afraid to tell the other what felt good. Hermione rolled Draco over at one stage and took control, leaving Draco’s hands free to roam her body, which he took advantage of, touching and caressing her supple skin.
Hermione’s orgasm hit her suddenly; she was sliding her hips down when Draco suddenly thrust up into her, hitting a place that caused wave after wave of ecstasy to wash over her. She moaned loudly as she shuddered and collapsed onto Draco, who caught her in his arms.
Once Hermione had stilled, she lifted her head for a long, deep kiss, then allowed Draco to gently flip her onto her back. He pulled her hips towards him and re-entered her, and all she could do was breathe and hold him as he thrust his way to climax.
Once he had spent himself inside her, Hermione held him in her arms, her fingers trailing over his back, which glistened with sweat.
Eventually, Draco rolled off her and manoeuvred them around until they were under the covers. He rested his head on Hermione’s shoulder and she placed her arm around him, then he kissed her neck softly, letting his lips trail over her warm skin, and Hermione sighed.
“Dare I ask what you’re thinking?”
She turned her head to look at him and kissed his lips. “I’m going to have to forgive you now, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are,” Draco said with a smug grin. He kissed her jaw, then sobered. “I am sorry, Hermione. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You never do, Draco.” Her voice was guarded, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“I think we need to talk.”
“So do I.” She smiled at him and traced his lips with her finger. “But it can wait until tomorrow.”
Draco raised Hermione’s hand to kiss her palm, then waited until she’d turned over onto her side and curled himself around her. She rested her hand on his, weaving their fingers together, and they lay silently together.
Hermione seemed to doze off after a few minutes, but the dawn was beginning to break when Draco finally surrendered.
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Hermione Granger was furious.
No, she reflected as she paced up and down outside Draco’s penthouse suite. Furious didn’t even begin to describe it. She was livid.
In all her twenty six years of living, Hermione couldn’t remember a time when she was more angry that she was at that moment.
And it was all because of Draco Malfoy.
Not content to make her life as difficult as possible in the seven years they had attended the same school, he had continued on when he had been transferred three years previously to the elite ranks of the special branch of Aurors that investigated the most heinous of wizarding crimes - and had been slotted into the role of Hermione’s partner.
He had certainly lasted longer than any of her previous partners; two of them had asked for reassignments, claiming Hermione’s intellect and thoroughness made their jobs redundant, and her previous partner before Draco had unfortunately met an untimely end.
Hermione had protested, wheedled, threatened, even begged, for Draco to be reassigned to someone else, but her superior had told her in no uncertain terms that he believed Draco perfect for the role and her only recourse was to resign if she really felt she couldn’t work with him.
Of course, Hermione Granger would never allow herself to walk away from a job she excelled at and the people who needed her for that pasty-faced ferret, so she held her chin high and tolerated him.
She never expected him to have become a decent human being in the years between their leaving school and his reassignment. Whenever Hermione thought she’d reached a stage when she’d finally figured her partner out, Draco would do or say something to surprise her.
If Hermione was completely honest, Draco was a damn good Auror. Level-headed, clever, and thorough, he looked at all the evidence and burrowed around like a niffler with a gold coin until he found what he was looking before. Between the two of them, they had racked up the highest percentage of cases solved, and earlier that evening, at the annual inter-Ministry conference in Berlin, were honoured with the highest award that could be bestowed upon an Auror for all their hard work - the Order of Merlin, Second Class.
What had made Hermione livid, however, was the fact that, as part of their acceptance, they had been asked to give a case study on one of their hardest and most dangerous cases -- and Draco had somehow made it sound like he did all the work while Hermione had merely tagged along for the ride. It hadn’t been true, of course; Hermione had put in just as many hours as Draco had and she was the one who had finally been able to put all the pieces together to catch the killer. But to anyone who had listened in on the presentation, Draco had done it all alone, with Hermione as his assistant.
Once they had been given a standing ovation, Draco had turned to Hermione with a smug grin and had taken her hand in his, lifting it up to his lips for a kiss. The crowd had gone wild, of course, and the talk afterwards was all about what a wonderful Auror Draco was and how lucky the Ministry was to have him on the side of good to put the criminals away.
As soon as was politely possible, Hermione had excused herself from the proceedings and gone for a long walk outside the hotel. Even though they were in a foreign city, Hermione was able to navigate her way around. Her German was good, so the few times she got lost, she was able to ask for directions.
Now, here she was, wearing a hole in the carpet outside Draco’s suite, waiting for her partner to return so she could give him a piece of her mind. This had been a long time coming, and Hermione would no longer keep it inside.
“Why am I not surprised to find you here?” Draco said smugly, his voice penetrating her thoughts.
“About time you came back,” Hermione spat. “It’s after 1am.”
“Sorry, Mum,” Draco said in an amused time. “I wasn’t aware I had a curfew.”
Hermione gritted her teeth, determined to stay as cool as possible. “We need to talk.”
Draco looked at her properly for the first time since his arrival. “You’re angry,” he stated, opening the door to his penthouse.
“Angry? No, I’m not angry,” Hermione huffed. “I’m livid.”
Draco held the door open and turned to look at her. “Perhaps you’d best come and be livid in here, then, so nobody else can hear.”
“I don’t care if the entire world hears,” Hermione declared as she stormed into his room. “I suspect they all know you’re the world’s biggest prat anyway.”
“Do you want a drink?” Draco asked, making a beeline for the bar fridge.
“No, I do not want a bloody drink.”
“Well, if you’re going to start yelling at me, I think I’m going to need one.” He poured himself a vodka and sat on the edge of his bed, loosening his robes. “So what’s got your knickers in a twist tonight, Granger?”
“You,” Hermione hissed. “You are the most insufferable prat I have ever had the misfortune to meet.”
“Tell me something I don’t know already.” He threw his vodka back in one gulp and put the glass down on the floor. “What are you really in a tizzy about?”
“Draco Malfoy, you know exactly why I’m annoyed with you.”
Draco looked at her with steely eyes, his voice even and calm. “So I embellished the truth a little.”
“A little? You lied!”
“I didn’t lie. I just told them what they wanted to hear.”
“At my expense?” Hermione felt her eyes well up with tears, and she shook her head forcefully to get rid of them. “Do you know how long I have worked for the Ministry? How hard it has been for me to overcome the prejudices I faced once I got there?” She heard her voice cracking and instantly felt ashamed at the loss of composure. “You did the wrong thing, Draco. I didn’t deserve that.”
He looked at her for such a long time that Hermione was sure he wasn’t going to say anything, but then he swiftly stood up and went over to her. With uncharacteristic gentleness, he cupped her face in his hands and wiped away a tear she didn’t know she’d shed with his thumb.
“I’m sorry, Hermione,” he said quietly. “You’re right, I did the wrong thing.” His thumb continued to move gently over her cheek. “What can I do to make it up to you?”
Hermione was aware of the sexual tension that crackled between them; the attraction had long been present but simmering underneath the surface. Apart from being completely unprofessional to be romantically involved with one’s partner, it was not something Hermione had ever wanted to acknowledge even existed -- least of all to Draco.
“You -- I-- ” Hermione suddenly found herself having difficulty breathing. Draco’s closeness was wreaking havoc on her senses and her heart was thumping wildly against her chest. If she just moved a little closer and he lowered his head…
As if he was reading her mind, Draco dipped his head and closed the distance between them, brushing his lips against hers. Keeping the kiss light, he pulled back after a few seconds.
Their breaths came out in short pants and their eyes remained closed long after their lips had separated. When Hermione finally opened hers, Draco’s silver orbs stared at her intently. “Are you going to curse me now?” he asked, his mouth curling into a half-smile.
“I might,” Hermione said breathily.
“Anything I can do to persuade you against that?”
“Maybe if you kiss me again,” she ventured tentatively, “I might forget I ever wanted to curse you in the first place.”
Draco’s grin was wide. “I’ll do my very best, Miss Granger.”
When he kissed her this time, there was no hesitation. His tongue demanded entrance to her mouth, running along her bottom lip, and when she could no longer deny him, he plundered her mouth so thoroughly that Hermione had to wonder if she’d ever really been kissed before.
His kisses were intoxicating. His hands were not content to stay on her face, either; they roamed her body freely, touching her curves, lingering in some places longer than others. When Draco brought his hand up to cup the full weight of her breast, Hermione couldn’t help but moan loudly against his lips. She wanted him to touch her there, unencumbered with clothing.
She brought her hand up to cover his, encouraging him to squeeze, and the mood in the room shifted from tentative to frantic. Draco unbuttoned her robes, pulling them away from her body, and Hermione in turn stripped him until he was wearing nothing but briefs. Draco let out a ragged gasp when he saw what Hermione had on underneath her robes; he hadn’t pegged her for being a black lace with garters type of witch. But he was infinitely pleased she was; he found himself incredibly aroused by the sight of her.
Not wanting to cease his exploration of her mouth, he placed his hands on her thighs and indicated for her to place them around his waist, which she did with a minimum of fuss. Draco managed to take the necessary steps to reach the bed, and then carefully slid Hermione onto it.
She smiled up at him, her expression a mixture of innocence and wantonness. He knew she was fighting the same internal battle as he was; wanting to deny the attraction between them, believing it necessary to keep their relationship strictly professional. But as Hermione Granger lay on his bed, clad only in her underwear and wearing a lazy smile, Draco Malfoy somehow knew the line they had been inching towards for years had suddenly been crossed.
He crawled onto the bed over her, leaning down to take her mouth in a bruising kiss, then slithered lower, placing gentle kisses on her skin. His fingers traced around the edge of her bra, and as he blew gently, her nipples hardened, aching for his touch. He licked her nipple through her bra and Hermione’s back arched, wanting more. Draco held her down, enjoying her reaction. What her body was doing to him should have been against the law. He couldn’t remember the last time a witch had gotten him so hard.
“Draco,” she moaned breathily, panting heavily. “Oh, God.”
“I know, Hermione,” he said, giving her other nipple a loving lick. “Soon.”
He trailed his mouth lower, leaving kisses as he went, then raised his head as he reached the nexus of her thighs. Unclipping her garters one by one, he rolled her stockings down, then spread her legs and kissed his way up the inside of her thigh. Hermione whimpered beneath him, desperate for completion.
She wasn’t content to remain still as Draco moved higher, and her reaction to his touch got to the point where he thought he would just explode on the spot if he wasn’t inside her. So with practiced fingers, he removed the rest of her underwear, then pulled off his briefs.
Once they were both naked and wanting, he moved back on top of her and positioned himself at her entrance. He kissed her lips, then pulled back far enough so he could watch her face as he eased himself inside her.
It took everything Draco had not to come right there as he buried himself to the hilt. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck; they lay together silently for long moments as Draco allowed Hermione time to adjust to the feel of him. He knew it had been a long time for her; she hadn’t dated in the three years he’d known her other than a few casual dinners, and Hermione didn’t strike him as the type of witch who indulged in one-night stands. He was fairly sure he could be safe in his assumption that Hermione had not had sex for a few years.
The urge to move consumed him, so he withdrew and pushed back in slowly a few times until Hermione encouraged him to go on. Together, they set a fast pace and neither was afraid to tell the other what felt good. Hermione rolled Draco over at one stage and took control, leaving Draco’s hands free to roam her body, which he took advantage of, touching and caressing her supple skin.
Hermione’s orgasm hit her suddenly; she was sliding her hips down when Draco suddenly thrust up into her, hitting a place that caused wave after wave of ecstasy to wash over her. She moaned loudly as she shuddered and collapsed onto Draco, who caught her in his arms.
Once Hermione had stilled, she lifted her head for a long, deep kiss, then allowed Draco to gently flip her onto her back. He pulled her hips towards him and re-entered her, and all she could do was breathe and hold him as he thrust his way to climax.
Once he had spent himself inside her, Hermione held him in her arms, her fingers trailing over his back, which glistened with sweat.
Eventually, Draco rolled off her and manoeuvred them around until they were under the covers. He rested his head on Hermione’s shoulder and she placed her arm around him, then he kissed her neck softly, letting his lips trail over her warm skin, and Hermione sighed.
“Dare I ask what you’re thinking?”
She turned her head to look at him and kissed his lips. “I’m going to have to forgive you now, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are,” Draco said with a smug grin. He kissed her jaw, then sobered. “I am sorry, Hermione. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You never do, Draco.” Her voice was guarded, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“I think we need to talk.”
“So do I.” She smiled at him and traced his lips with her finger. “But it can wait until tomorrow.”
Draco raised Hermione’s hand to kiss her palm, then waited until she’d turned over onto her side and curled himself around her. She rested her hand on his, weaving their fingers together, and they lay silently together.
Hermione seemed to doze off after a few minutes, but the dawn was beginning to break when Draco finally surrendered.