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Draco Malfoy knew there would be difficulties when dating Hermione Granger.
He'd expected to hear rant after rant about the rights of magical creatures and wizarding policies that were far too outdated. He’d expected to wake up with frizzy hair stuck in his mouth and to the sound of quiet snoring from the witch he'd thoroughly shagged the night before. He’d expected to be entertained by her five foot three powerhouse stature—excuse him, five foot three and three quarters stature—as she drew herself up to glare up at his six foot five frame and inform him of every fact he’d misquoted when discussing magical theory.
What he did not know going into the relationship were her insecurities about his life and the people in it, past and present. Nor how he would learn to deal with them.
The first time he experienced said insecurities it had been a Tuesday in the middle of July, and he had been busy with the usual paperwork. Working wasn’t something he had to do, but after the war he’d jumped at the chance to become an Auror and rehabilitate his family name in the eyes of the public. As it turned out, Draco was good at the job, and he rather enjoyed it. About a year in, however, Draco was partnered with Harry Potter.
Harry was unexpected, to say the least. They’d been wary of each other at first, but eventually, they acknowledged that their relationship was no longer that of enemies and childhood rivals. In time, Harry began to invite Draco to social events outside of work, making his reacquaintance with the other two members of the famously named Golden Trio inevitable. Draco’s relationship with Ronald was still tense, but Hermione?
Well, that became something entirely different.
Initially they were hesitant around each other, but after one rather halted conversation rife with apologies and mumbled questions, they had quickly realized that they had more in common than not. That wasn't to say they didn't have their disagreements, of course, but those turned out to be rather entertaining in Draco's eyes.
It was one of those very arguments that led to their first kiss, and three weeks later, they began dating. Three months after that initial kiss they were going strong, even recently coming out to the public as an official couple, so the last thing Draco expected to encounter while at his desk that Tuesday afternoon was his very angry girlfriend interrupting his progress on, well, boring paperwork.
As soon as Hermione slammed his office door open, hair sparking as it always did when she was enraged, Draco anticipated the usual angry rant directed towards her job in the Department of Magical Creatures. Instead, he got the shock of his life when she began yelling...at him.
"Astoria Greengrass is the most pettiest, most repugnant woman I have ever met," Hermione bellowed, stomping right up to Draco’s desk and slamming her hands down forcefully. Draco knew she was irritated, but he couldn't help but sneak a peek at the ample cleavage that was on display thanks to her rather fetching blue-button down v-neck.
"I am not quite sure what you want me to do about that, Granger,” he drawled slowly, deciding to approach this situation with caution.
“She’s your ex,” his girlfriend bit out, “shouldn’t you be able to get her to stop? This is the third time this week she has sent me roses—which I am highly allergic to, by the way. How she ever found that out, I don’t know. But each bouquet has also included a note containing explicit details of what exactly she’s done with you. And it’s only Tuesday!”
Draco let out a chuckle at the ranting witch, which was, apparently, the wrong thing to do.
“Do you think this is funny?” She snapped at him. “How would you like it if Ronald sent you flowers describing the time he bent me over backwards and fucked me raw in the ministry bathroom?”
That shut him up.
“Don’t you dare bring up that imbecile to me again, Granger.” Draco slowly rose from his chair, stalking around the edge of his desk towards her. “And especially never say a word about him fucking you in my presence.”
“Then don’t laugh when I’m discussing your ex doing the same thing to me.”
“The only man that you should ever mention in the same breath as you getting fucked should be me.”
“Then defend me and not your whore of an ex. The same one that cheated on you, remember?”
They were close, noses almost touching and breathing hard. Draco frowned at the reminder of the indiscretions against him by the woman he almost married.
“Not entirely fair of you to throw that in my face, Granger.”
“Oh really? Tell me exactly what is fair then. My—“
Draco froze.
Hermione was still ranting and raving, her wild hair seemingly alive with her irritation. But there was now a scent permeating the air, a familiar tangy-sweet scent he’d grown familiar with over the months he’d been with her. Typically though, he only experienced it within the confined walls of his room or hers. He’d recognize that fragrance anywhere.
Hermione Granger was getting turned on by their fighting. And Draco could smell it.
“And not to mention the mere—“
“Granger,” he interrupted her mid-rant, a devilish smirk now playing on his face.
Hermione had stepped away from Draco in the midst of her tirade in order to pace back and forth in her frustration. At the tone of his voice, she whipped her head around to face him.
“What?”
“Are you turned on right now?” He asked, practically growling the accusation at her. She paled slightly.
“Um—no,” she stammered. “I’m not, I don’t—uh—I’m not sure what you’re asking that—uh—for.”
Draco stalked forward, grabbing his witch by the waist and pulling her in. Lowering his mouth to her throat, he ran his lips lightly across the skin up to her ear.
“I can smell you, Granger.” He groaned into her ear. Hermione shivered from the heavy breaths now ghosting her neck from his panting, and he felt her relax into his arms as her humiliation from being caught melted away at the evident arousal in his voice.
“And what are you going to do about that?” She asked breathlessly.
Pulling away from her quickly, Draco drew out his wand to cast two spells in rapid succession. The first was a locking charm slamming his office door shut and ensuring it remained so, the other a silencing charm. Glancing at his desk, he quickly cast a third charm to banish the clutter into a filing cabinet near the wall.
Facing Hermione once more, he lowered his head to connect their mouths in a heated kiss. As he gripped her face tightly and slid his tongue along her bottom lip, she clutched his arms in her hands, struggling to maintain control as Draco pulled her back towards his desk.
Breaking their kiss, Draco slid his hands down to her waist and spun them around. He sat her gently on the desk and reconnected their lips in a hurried frenzy. He was intoxicated by the taste of her lips, and despite the short length of their relationship so far, he knew he never wanted to go a day without that taste ever again.
His hands, now gripping her thighs, slipped under the fabric of her modest work skirt, bunching it up as his fingers slid their way up to the point where her legs met. Draco hadn't even touched her knickers yet, but he could see how soaked she was through the thin fabric that separated them.
"You're positively drenched, love," he growled against her lips. "Does fighting with me turn you on this much?"
She moaned in response.
"Words," he nipped at her lips, "use them."
"Yes, it turns me on so—oh my gods," Hermione gasped as Draco's large hands pulled the small scrap of lace covering her to the side at her admission, sliding a finger up and down the entirety of her slit.
"So fucking gorgeous," Draco openly stared at her, reveling in how she glistened against his fingers. Bending down, he fell to his knees and forcefully pulled her knickers down her legs. Once off, he balled them up and tucked them into his back pocket.
He took a giant breath, relishing in her scent, now much stronger with the source being directly in front of his face, and he felt himself harden. When Draco lifted his eyes, he smirked at the sight of Hermione staring down at him, her eyes wide. Her hair was already a mess and the top three buttons of her blouse had popped open, revealing the pale green bra hidden underneath. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling fast. And she looked absolutely delectable.
"Lay back onto the desk, pet," Draco commanded with a gravelly voice as he stood back up, pushing her down with one hand. Hermione let out a whimper as the sensation of the cold metal hit her back. Leaning over her flushed body, Draco kissed gently along the skin of her collarbone as he busied himself by undoing the remaining buttons of her shirt, letting the fabric fall open. Hermione reached for his button-down, the goal to rid him of it clear, but he stopped her progress, grabbing her wrists, pushing them above her head, and holding them in place with his left hand.
"No, not today, my love," Draco's grey eyes glowed with hunger, "today, we're focused on you."
"But I need to see you," Hermione begged.
Instead of answering, Draco used his other hand to slide down her front with feather-light strokes. Bunching her skirt a bit more, he found his destination as his large fingers met her sopping entrance. Hermione mewled as her back arched slightly as he rubbed her clit with delicate precision. Draco could tell she was close, and he hadn't even touched her fully yet.
Carefully, he slipped his middle finger into her, thrusting his hand slowly as he worked to stretch her open. Hermione was a small woman, and while Draco adored that, he knew foreplay was essential. He would never complain though, as he loved the feeling of her clenching around his fingers as he worked her body to release over and over again.
"More, Draco," Hermione whined after a minute of ministrations. Draco smirked but complied, adding an additional finger and working a new rhythm against her. As he continued the motion of his hand, he alternated pressing slow circles against her clit with his thumb and using the palm of his hand to add pressure to the entirety of her mound. Hermione shuddered with each thrust of his hand, whimpering loudly when he eventually added a third finger and Draco couldn’t help but marveled at the way he could see a slight bulge of her stomach each time he curled his fingers to find that spot right behind her entrance that had her singing moans for him.
When Hermione's hips raised off the desk, Draco knew she was almost there. Lifting his head from her chest where he had been lavishing her breasts with licks and kisses over her bra, he looked into her eyes and increased the speed of his hand. She let out a series of breathy noises as her hips began to involuntary buck against him, fucking his hand as she chased her release.
It took a couple more swipes of his thumb against her clit until Draco felt Hermione go rigid as her walls clenched around his fingers tightly and she let out a shuttered breath. He continued to drive his digits into her, helping her ride the wave of her orgasm until she relaxed against the desk. Removing his fingers from her, he brought them to her lips and she opened greedily, cleaning her own essence off of him with messy swipes of her tongue. She held his stare, and Draco moaned at the sight.
"You're perfect, my dirty girl," Draco whispered into her ear, finally releasing her hands from above her head.
"I know," she responded smugly. "Now fuck me."
Not one to turn an offer like that down, Draco hoisted himself up and began to unbuckle his belt. Hermione leaned up on her forearms to watch him, mouth opening slightly as he pulled his cock out of his trousers. Pumping himself in his hand, Draco contemplated the woman sitting upon his desk. She was a vision he was prepared to burn into his mind, but not save for a rainy day. Why would he? She would be at his side on those days.
No, he'd save this image for days he was bored doing paperwork.
Grabbing Hermione's ankles, he slid her down to the edge of his desk and wrapped one arm around her waist to pull her up and kiss her gently. She nipped at his lips, and he allowed her to deepen their kiss as she reached in between them and pumped his cock in her hands. Draco let out a hiss when she hit a particularly sensitive spot on his dick.
Moving closer, Draco took himself out of her small hands in order to line up with her entrance before thrusting in and slowly working himself back and forth until he was fully seated within her. Settling into a rhythm, Draco felt a strange elation build up in his chest.
"So," Draco grunted as he moved his hips against her. "What was it that made you upset—ahh—again?"
"Really?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but let out a breathy moan when he hit a sensitive spot within her.
"If it has you this," he grunted, "worked up, I want to remember it." They moaned in unison as she squeezed around him tightly. "Might—ungh—send Astoria flowers as a thank you."
"Don't," she yelped as he reached between them and flicked her clit, "you fucking—ohhh—dare."
Draco let out a laugh as he leaned forward to kiss her again. Each thrust of his hips sent her sliding up slightly up his desk until they were both firmly on top of it, and Draco could hear the metal groaning under the weight of them and their movements. The room was full of the noise of creaking metal, Hermione's whimpers, and Draco's breathy moans, a culmination of everything Draco had ever fantasized about.
It wasn't long until Draco began to feel himself on the edge of tumbling over. He doubled down his efforts on Hermione's clit and circled it while adding additional pressure from his palm every few strokes. Her legs began to shake around his waist and she once again tensed, her toes curling in pleasure as she gushed around him, squeezing hard. She let out a loud moan that turned into a repetition of his name over and over in a song that lured him over the edge. Two thrusts later and Draco slammed into her hard as he felt his legs go numb from the repetitive action and spilled deep inside of her.
Breathing hard, he rested his forehead against hers and smiled, allowing himself to exist in the moment of bliss a second longer until he caught her brown eyes with a smirk.
"I'll talk to Astoria," Draco muttered, "no more flowers from her, okay?"
"Good, thank you." Hermione kissed him gently, her confusing emotions curtailed for the first time in a very strange way.
Little did he know, it would become a pattern.
—
As the couple approached their six-month anniversary, Draco knew he could no longer avoid introducing Hermione to his mother. It wasn't that he had been hiding the extent of what he had with Hermione, but he wasn't entirely sure how his mother felt about the relationship. She had been sending him letters for weeks hinting she wished to meet the woman he'd been pictured with so regularly in the papers.
When he and Hermione reached the milestone, Draco finally worked up the nerve to set up a dinner date. He had been putting off going to the Manor for a while, and as the head of the family now after his father’s passing, he had some financial matters he needed to attend to. With the bright idea to take care of multiple unpleasant tasks in one go, Draco requested Hermione join him for dinner with his mother after he finished taking care of his obligations.
She agreed, and the following Friday evening he apparated them to the hall just outside his father's study.
Knowing what awaited him in the room, Draco kept his wand out. Holding her hand, he sent an instant silencing charm at all the portraits that hung within the room immediately upon entering the office, effectively silencing the outrage he knew would come from them the second they saw his girlfriend.
But there was one portrait in particular he was worried about.
Grey eyes, identical to his own, stared at him harshly from above the fireplace. Lucius Malfoy sat painted for eternity and observed the room he used to work from for years. He looked furious as he switched his glare from his son to the muggleborn woman hiding slightly behind him. But no sounds would be allowed to escape from the portrait; Draco had made sure of it.
Leading Hermione to the black leather couch situated to the right of the desk, he kissed her gently before suggesting she sit down. He walked over to the cabinet behind the couch as she settled in and poured them both a nice helping of firewhiskey out of the tumbler that sat within it.
"Here, we may need this," Draco handed Hermione a glass. She took it gingerly.
"You're definitely right about that," she muttered as she took a healthy swig of the liquid, coughing slightly as the alcohol burned down her throat.
"I'll only be an hour tops," he promised.
"Take your time."
She settled back into the couch and summoned a book from her beaded bag as Draco slipped behind the large mahogany desk to take a seat in the leather chair that matched the sofa on which Hermione resided. Summoning the financial documents he needed to review, Draco got to work.
Forty-five minutes later, he glanced at the time as he signed off on the last report set before him. It was 5:45 pm, and they were not set to meet his mother in the front hall until 7 pm. Letting out a sigh, he leaned back in his chair and met Hermione's eyes. She had heard him finish and glanced up from her book just as he turned his head.
"How are you feeling?" Draco asked her, knowing she had been anxious before they arrived.
"I am okay," she responded softly.
"You have every right to be nervous."
"I know," she sighed. "And I guess seeing the look on your father's portrait right now isn't exactly helping. I can't help but feel out of place here."
Draco craned his head to glance at the portrait in question. Lucius was glaring at his girlfriend and nodding his head, clearly trying to convey that, in his opinion, she did not belong there. Draco scowled at the man.
"This is my home too, Hermione, and if I say you belong," Draco whipped his head back to her, a determined look on his face. "You belong."
Standing up from his chair, he marched over to his girlfriend and got on his knees before her.
"Let me show you just how much you belong here. With me."
At that, Draco slid his hands up her thighs in a comforting motion before unclasping the buttons on her hip. Pulling at her hips, he forced her to stand before him, causing her skirt to fall and reveal the black lingerie and garter belt with tights hidden underneath. He groaned at the sight and laid his head against her stomach, his hot breath panting against her skin.
"Draco," she sounded nervous, and he looked up to see her eyeing the portraits around the room. Standing up, he lifted her shirt off of her as he went, then using his index and middle fingers to bring her eyes back to his face and dipped down to kiss her.
"Ignore them," he mumbled. "They don't matter, only you."
Pulling her by the hand, Draco made his way back around the desk, spinning the chair to push it up to the edge so it faced the portrait on the wall. Looking back at Hermione, he motioned for her to sit and smiled when she made herself comfortable against the leather chair.
"I want you to only focus on me," Draco commanded, "consider this me proving a point to the bigoted assholes that raised me."
She smiled shyly and nodded, her insecurities still making her nervous. But Draco was determined to make sure she never felt that way in his home ever again. Not when he planned on loving her for the rest of his days, not that she knew that particular detail yet.
Draco ran his hand up the inside of her thighs, separating them, and balled his right hand into a fist while his left gripped her thigh tightly. As he came to the apex of her thighs, he slowly kneaded his fist along the entirety of her clothed entrance, rolling it in a circular motion. He quirked an inquiring eyebrow at the witch as he felt her jerk.
“The metal—“ Hermione gasped out, “the metal of your ring—unghh,” she let out a moan as Draco pushed the ring slightly harder against where her clit lay underneath a thin layer of fabric. “It is so cold against how hot my cunt is.”
“Good girl,” he murmured. A satisfied grin crossed his face at how well she was blocking out the painted eyes on her. With intention, Draco moved the fabric of her knickers to the side and slowly pushed his middle and index fingers into her, curling them up slightly to create a come hither motion. Hermione crooned, the muscles in her stomach tensing as Draco repeated the movement several times.
Kissing down her front and through the valley of her chest, Draco forged a path with his mouth and tongue to meet the hand that was thrusting into her. Hermione leaned back, tilting her head up to the ceiling. She leaned on her left forearm and directed his skull with her right hand, pulling his hair slightly when he finally arrived and left a sloppy open mouth kiss against her clit.
He adored the taste of her and, desperate for more, ripped the panties she wore off with his teeth, giving him free access to her cunt. She whined as he feasted, using a combination of his tongue and teeth to stimulate her swollen clit as he continued teasing her roughly with his fingers at her entrance. He even purposefully pushed his signet ring into her just enough to have her mewling in pleasure from the contrast of heat and metal. She quickly came apart around him and he felt her gush over his face, his lips glistening in the light of the fireplace behind him.
Removing his fingers from within her, Draco stood suddenly as an idea popped into his mind.
"Stay here, love," Draco commanded, his eyes full of mirth. Hermione looked at him curiously, still breathing hard as she came down from her orgasm, but complied. Her eyes followed him as he walked quickly back to the cabinet where the firewhiskey was stored. He pulled out two items, the tumbler of that amber liquid and a cane, long and black, topped with an engraved silver serpent's head. Hermione's eyes widened in recognition. The object was identical to the one pictured in the portrait now angrily screaming in front of her.
It was Lucius's old cane.
Draco walked back to where she sat with a smirk, setting the firewhiskey on the desk behind Hermione as he rolled the cane between his hands.
"I'll only use it if you are comfortable," Draco queried, tilting his head sideways and eyes softening at Hermione's unsure look. They'd never used a cane before, but he could see curiosity sparkling in her eyes.
"I--uh, I think trying it would be okay," she murmured. "But no spanking or hitting? Not yet?"
"That’s fine, I understand." He smiled in a comforting manner. "If I go too far, let me know immediately. I know this isn't a route we've explored before."
She nodded her head, relaxing against the chair again. Draco hooked the cane under one knee, pushing up and out so her legs were forced to widen even more as one came to rest on the arm of the chair. After repeating the action with her other side, he flipped the cane around and traced the clasps of her garter belt before using the teeth of the silver snake to snap them off so he could fully remove the underwear he had torn with his teeth earlier.
Sliding the cane up the middle of her chest, Draco used the end of it to slip under her bra straps, sliding them down her arms. Setting the wooden rod down slightly, he had Hermione arch just enough to reach behind her and unclipped the bra, sliding it off her frame.
"Now hold yourself open for me, love," he told her, the pleasure he found in dominating her apparent in his tone. "Why don't we show these ancestors of mine how pretty you glisten when you come for me?"
Hermione whimpered but complied as she used her own hands to spread her nether lips wide. She was soaked from the orgasm Draco had already pulled from her, her clit swollen. She looked beautiful all splayed out for him. He knew his father’s portrait was no doubt wishing it could be burnt or destroyed instead of witnessing their actions below. Draco on the other hand, was entranced. He couldn't wait to be inside of this beautiful witch.
But first, he wanted to play some more.
He used the sharp fangs on the cane’s snake topper to pinch her right nipple, leaning down to use his teeth on her left. He could tell she wanted to move her hands, but when she began to squirm, he clamped down a bit harder in warning.
“No moving until I say so.”
“Yes—ohh—sir.”
Draco almost came in his pants right then and there, loving the slip of sir from her lips. Continuing his exploration, he moved the serpent head down Hermione’s body, occasionally allowing the fangs to scrape her skin, causing a shiver to cascade through the woman each time.
Slowly, he brought the cane to her clit, the cool metal creating a similar sensation as the ring from earlier. She mewled quietly as the sharp fang hooked itself around her clit in a tugging movement. Draco observed her face carefully as he pushed it slightly harder, and when Hermione’s face began to contort with pleasure as opposed to pain, he smirked.
“Are you ready for me, love?” He whispered, smiling when she was unable to find words and nodded her head vigorously instead. He made quick work of his trousers, shoving them down his legs as he continued to tease her with the cane in his hand.
Lining himself up, Draco shoved into Hermione, glancing over his shoulder to glare at the portrait of his father, which was red in the face trying to yell over the silencing charm. He grinned as he continued to pull himself in and out of his girlfriend at a slow rate. Nothing made him happier than the apoplectic expression of the portrait as it was forced to witness their coupling.
Taking his mind off the picture behind him, Draco brought his full attention back to the squirming woman under him and in his father’s chair. She was still holding herself open for him, her fingers occasionally making contact with his cock as he drove into her slowly. She was soaked, and he could feel her release dripping down her legs onto the leather beneath her. He grinned maniacally as he began to pick up speed, working his way towards slamming deliriously into her tight cunt.
She was absolutely magic. He’d grown up around magic, felt it pulse through his veins, but nothing compared to the feeling of this woman groaning out his name as he brought her to the brink and back again. The vibration of her tight pulsing walls around his cock was his own siren song.
Suddenly overwhelmed by his desire for her, he threw the cane off to the side and hooked his arms under her legs, picking her up effortlessly. Hermione threw her head back as gravity pushed her even farther on his cock, and she squirmed in his arms while letting out a stream of expletives.
Kicking the chair out of the way, Draco deposited his girlfriend onto the large mahogany desk. He pushed into Hermione roughly, her head bouncing against the desk. Bringing his hand in between them, Draco took over the actions of the cane. He rubbed her delicate nub gently, a rather different approach from the aggressive manner in which he was now sinking himself into her.
Hermione whined out a desperate noise, her back arching against the desk. She was shaking and gripping his arms so tightly he had a feeling there would be crescent-shaped marks on his arms from her nails digging into him. Her red lips were opened wide and panting with each thrust of his hips, letting out little noises of pleasure when he hit the deepest point within her.
She makes such a pretty picture, Draco thought, another to add to the ever-growing pile in my mind.
Quickening the pace of both his thrusting and his fingers on her clit, he leaned down to attach his mouth to her neck. He nipped and kissed along her jawline, making his way up to her ear.
“Come for me, Hermione,” he whispered.
Almost simultaneously, he felt her tense around him. The legs wrapped around his waist tighten as her toes curled and her thighs quaked, causing her to let out a short yelp of pleasure. A warm gush of liquid splashed against him as he continued his brutal pace against her squirting release, causing him to grin in success as the old mahogany soaked it up. She rarely orgasmed in this way, but when she did, he felt like the luckiest man in the world.
“Where do you want me to finish, love?” Draco asked.
“In my--,” Hermione panted, “in my mouth. Let me taste you.”
Pulling out of her, Draco helped steady Hermione on her shaky legs as she dropped to her knees in front of him. She wrapped one hand around him while taking the tip of him fully into her mouth. Sucking lightly, she focused on twisting her hand in a repetitive motion, working to swallow more of him. Draco brought one hand to her hair and gathered it into a tangled mess as he gripped her hard, relishing in the feel of her soft mouth around him.
He was already close, so the second he felt her tongue circle the head of his cock again, teasing his slit lightly, he lost it. Thrusting his hips forward, he unloaded himself entirely against the back of her throat with a strangled moan. Hermione smiled around his cock as she swallowed his release, and the feeling of her throat constricting stimulated Draco even more, causing his knees to buckle. The action pulled him out of her mouth, and the pair collapsed on the ground against the side of the desk.
Reaching up, Draco grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey he’d brought over earlier. Handing the decanter over to Hermione, removed the lid and took a swig, letting the amber liquid wash the rest of her boyfriend’s release down her throat. Smiling, she handed the whiskey back to Draco and he took his own sip before stoppering the container back up. Checking his watch, he noticed the time was now 6:45 pm and they were due to meet his mother in fifteen minutes.
“How do you feel now?” Draco lolled his head lazily in her direction.
“Like I can do anything,” Hermione smiled brightly back at him, her anxiety from earlier completely gone.
“Even meet my mother?”
“Yes, even that.” She let out a sigh and stood up, turning around to reach her hand out to him. He took it, and they helped each other redress, using their wands to cast quick Scourgify charms to clean themselves of any evidence of what they had been up to.
Hand in hand, they left the office behind and headed towards the front hall, where they were to meet Narcissa before dinner. By the end of the night, Hermione only felt relief instead of anxiety, and Draco looked like the cat that had caught the canary.
Draco had no doubt that there would be another occasion where he would need to distract his girlfriend from her overstimulated mind, but now, instead of being unsure of what actions to take, he knew exactly what to do. It might have taken a couple months, but he was confident that he’d solved the conundrum of curtailing Hermione Granger’s confusing emotions.
Or so he thought.