Chapter Text
31st of August, 2002
They celebrated their one-year wedding anniversary in Provence with their closest friends. For nearly a month, Draco and Hermione had enjoyed the warmth of the chateau and indulged in their time alone before they were due to begin their new roles as professors at Hogwarts the following day. Their friends had arrived two weeks ago, giving the couple privacy at the start—something Hermione was considering turning into a tradition. She hoped they’d all return to the chateau each summer for years to come.
In total, Ginny, Harry, Blaise, Daphne, Pansy, Neville, Theo, Astoria, Luna, and Rolf had come to stay. The past two weeks had been an absolute delight, filled with laughter, lazy afternoons, and drunken nights under the stars. It felt almost like their school days again—except this time, they all genuinely got along and could come and go as they pleased.
Blaise and Theo were now in committed relationships with Daphne and Astoria, respectively, though interestingly enough, Theo had still asked for his own room at the chateau. He’d confided in Hermione that he hadn’t slept with Astoria yet, despite nearly three months of courting.
He was trying to be a proper gentleman and take things slow, worried that rushing into bed might sabotage something real. He really liked her, that much was clear. He doted on her, made an effort with her, and seemed intentionally restrained. Hermione had even caught them snogging once in the library, and based on the heat between them, the chemistry was undeniable, so the fact that he was holding back this long from shagging her was a big deal.
Hermione had made an effort to get closer to Astoria as well. The younger witch was quiet, kind, and undeniably beautiful—pale skin, striking grey-blue eyes, and silky brunette waves. They made a stunning couple and Hermione hoped beyond hope that he wouldn’t somehow fuck things up.
Things with Draco were as wonderful as ever. He even seemed to be looking forward to returning to Hogwarts—his old stomping grounds. Snape had agreed to relinquish the Defense Against the Dark Arts position to him. As headmaster, Snape had taken it over temporarily (since no one else wanted the cursed post), but now Draco was set to step in. Hermione, meanwhile, was preparing to teach Muggle Studies, a subject so often overlooked and improperly taught that she was eager to set it right.
They were to be given quarters at the castle for the weekdays and access to a heavily warded Floo that would only work for the two of them to return home when they liked, mostly on weekends.
But today—their final day of freedom—Hermione fully intended to enjoy it.
After a shared breakfast and a walk around the grounds, the girls took a large picnic blanket out to the lavender fields, complete with wine, cheese, and grapes. They lounged in the sun, watching the boys—and Ginny—zoom through the sky, playing a relaxed version of Quidditch overhead.
It was lovely watching Draco on a broom, so carefree and fast as he twisted and turned midair. He’d even flown down once to kiss her, trying to coax her up for a ride, but she declined—still not a fan of flying or heights. He pouted dramatically before soaring back into the sky to rejoin the game.
“So,” Pansy drawled from her spot on the blanket, swirling her wine, “are you finally going to seal the deal with Theo tonight, Tori?”
Astoria blushed, biting back a smile. “I don’t know… maybe. He’s been so careful with me. I’m not sure he wants to yet.”
Pansy looked unconvinced. “Of course he does. He just doesn’t want to scare you off with his massive pecker.”
Daphne snorted. Luna smiled serenely. Hermione rolled her eyes and shot Pansy a warning look.
“No, I think you’re the one who’s going to scare her off, Pans,” she said pointedly.
“I’m not scared,” Astoria said lightly. “I’d heard the rumors back at school… It’s not like it’s my first time. He just has a lot more experience than I do. I’ve only been with two other blokes.”
“Well, that’s still one more than me,” Hermione said with a playful grin.
“Aren’t you the least bit worried he’ll leave you for another man?” Daphne asked curiously.
Astoria shook her head. “The thought hasn’t crossed my mind. I trust him to be faithful—he’s made that clear. And I may have mentioned I wouldn’t be opposed to a third, perhaps someday...”
Astoria’s cheeks turned scarlet, and she covered her face while the others giggled.
“It is quite hot seeing Theo with other men, I’ll admit,” Pansy added without shame. “I nearly came the first time I got him and Draco to snog in front of me back in school. Just watching it was enough. Two fit blokes getting intimate is my favorite fantasy.”
She took another sip of wine. “Well, aside from Neville tying me up and using me however he wants, but that’s more of a recurring reality these days.”
Everyone stared at her with a mix of shock and intrigue, and Hermione suddenly found herself considering whether learning Legilimency to view Draco’s memories might not be such a terrible idea…
“Have you ever seen them do… more?” Daphne asked, eyes alight with curiosity.
“I have,” Pansy said with a wicked grin. “But Hermione won’t want to hear about it.”
She gave Pansy a look.
“You mean the infamous threesome?” Hermione groaned.
“Oh, I definitely want to hear about that,” Daphne said eagerly, leaning in.
“As would I—if you’re comfortable, Hermione, of course,” Luna added gently.
Hermione glanced at Astoria, who simply shrugged and gave a small nod. To be fair, she was morbidly curious but had never asked either of them for details. Not that she thought they wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing, especially Theo, but she didn’t want to dredge up the past with them when they were all trying to move forward. She felt the peer pressure to say yes, and also couldn’t help but wet her curiosity.
“Alright, Pans,” Hermione sighed. “Do tell us about that depraved night.”
Pansy grinned, wicked and triumphant, before launching into the story, leaving no scandalous detail spared.
Apparently, Draco had confronted her about going behind his back with Theo, and they had—according to Pansy—a rather tedious conversation about their versions of what monogamy meant. She had floated the idea of a throuple, which Draco shot down immediately. He wasn’t interested in opening up their relationship like that. But when she instead proposed a one-time experience with Theo, all three of them together, he hadn’t rejected it outright.
It took weeks of coaxing, subtle suggestions, and the occasional half-joking remark before he finally gave in. They chose a night when everyone else would be partying in the common room, and they took the opportunity to spell the dorm room closed.
Pansy had undressed slowly, deliberately, putting on a show just for them as they watched with hungry eyes. She started with Draco—kissed him deeply—before eventually turning to Theo, who eagerly returned the attention. It escalated quickly, with Draco coming up behind her, teasing her body as Theo kissed her senseless from the front. At some point, she guided them both to kiss her at the same time, which apparently was messy and overwhelming in all the right ways.
Then, according to Pansy, she’d pulled back and reclined on the bed, choosing to simply watch . Draco and Theo—entwined at that point, mouths hungry and insistent—were completely absorbed in each other. Their lips moved in sync, tongues sliding together, the kiss deepening as hands wandered—clutching at fabric, at flesh—fingertips skating over jawlines, hips, backs.
Theo had one hand firmly wrapped around Draco’s cock, stroking with an unhurried, maddening rhythm. His thumb swiped across the head now and then, drawing out a sharp hiss from Draco, whose entire body seemed to twitch with the effort of holding back. His spine arched slightly, muscles taut, and each exhale from his mouth was labored and heavy—half a growl, half a moan.
Pansy shared that she saw Draco open his eyes every so often, glassy and hooded, glancing back toward her—needing to confirm she was still watching, still reveling in the sight of them, because for him, the show was entirely for her benefit. And she was, utterly transfixed and nearly drooling from the sight.
“And what were you doing while they were snogging?” Daphne had asked, breathless.
“Touching myself, obviously,” Pansy had replied with a smirk. “What else does one do when presented with a front-row seat to that kind of debauchery?”
Hermione had flushed just listening to it, the sheer intensity of the image curling in her stomach like heat. It was wicked and a little shocking—and yet oddly captivating. She wasn’t sure if she was more surprised that he’d gone through with it… or by how much she wanted to see it for herself.
That image alone had nearly undone her, but it only got filthier from there.
At one particularly vivid point in the story, Pansy described straddling Draco’s face while Theo had his mouth wrapped around Draco’s cock. Even as he moaned into her, Draco slid his fingers between her cheeks, teasing and stretching her arse in preparation for what was to come while he tongued her clit. He proceeded to make Pansy come, and just before he could spill into Theo’s mouth, he begged him to stop, wanting to save it for her.
They’d taken their time with her, trading kisses and caresses, making her come multiple times with their mouths and hands before finally lifting her up between them. With her legs spread wide, they entered her together slowly—Draco behind, Theo in front—filling her to the brink. After letting her adjust to the fullness for a minute, they started doing alternating thrusts. She came fairly quickly from the overwhelming sensations and nearly blacked out, pleasure crashing over her so violently she forgot where she was.
And now, sitting in a field of lavender, drinking wine with her friends, Hermione watched as all their curious, scandalized, and amused expressions stared at Pansy, the only one still sipping her wine like it was just another Tuesday.
“Did they… you know, finish inside you?” Daphne finally asked, eyes wide.
Pansy gave a devilish smile. “They did after I came, almost at the same time. It was spectacular. If Neville was interested, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I’ve never felt so deliciously full in my life. Of course, he’ll have none of sharing me with anyone else.”
The group erupted into giggles—some shocked, some amused—and Hermione glanced at Astoria with mild worry. The younger witch’s cheeks were deeply flushed, but thankfully, she didn’t look horrified. A good sign. For Theo’s sake.
“And you three never did it again?” Daphne asked, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
“No,” Pansy replied, a little too casually. “Much to my disappointment. Draco wasn’t interested in a repeat performance. He enjoyed it at the time, sure—but he’s never liked sharing, not really. Especially not with another man. I’ve had threesomes with him and other girls a couple of times when we were together, and he vastly preferred that. With Theo, he did it because he knew it turned me on.”
Hermione arched a brow. “I’m sure Theo was thrilled to hear that.”
“Oh, he was a complete menace about it afterwards. Begged me for weeks to convince Draco to change his mind. Eventually, he let it go, but I know he replayed that night in his head for months,” Pansy said with a smirk.
They all fell into a thoughtful silence, digesting everything Pansy said as they watched the group overhead on their brooms—laughing, taunting, dipping and weaving through the air. She hoped that Draco and Theo’s friendship moving forward could have fewer complicated layers now that Theo was with Astoria, that he would let himself fall in love with her, and finally move on.
As if on cue, Theo zipped by and blew Astoria a kiss. She smiled up at him, pink-cheeked and glowing.
“When I look at him looking at you,” Luna said dreamily, “his aura turns pink. He’s definitely smitten.”
Astoria smiled shyly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I think he is, too. I like him a lot. I always have…”
“You’d have pretty babies,” Luna added serenely. “Dark hair and blue eyes… very striking.”
Astoria nodded, though a flicker of something unreadable passed over her expression. Hermione noticed Daphne glance at her, brows slightly furrowed with concern, but said nothing.
Her attention was pulled elsewhere when Draco came flying toward her. He stood on his broom like it was nothing, grinning down at her with mischief in his eyes.
“You sure you don’t want a ride, my love? I promise I’ll make it worth your while,” he teased.
Hermione gave him a skeptical look. “Aren’t you in the middle of a game?”
“We’re done,” he said with a shrug. “Now we’re just fucking around. Come on—just one ride. I swear I’ll go slow.”
She folded her arms. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
Theo and Harry flew closer to flank him.
“‘Mione, you’ve flown plenty of times,” Harry said. “It’s not that bad.”
“Every single time was under life-threatening circumstances, and you know it,” she shot back.
“But did you die?” he grinned.
“Nearly!”
“Come on, you can handle it, sweetness,” Theo coaxed. “It’s really not that bad.”
“Easy for you to say,” she muttered. “You have no sense of danger. You’d ride a hippogriff blindfolded if someone dared you.”
Theo clutched his chest like he’d been wounded. “I’m offended.”
Draco laughed. “How about this? Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking. If you hate it, I’ll take you right back down.”
She sighed and looked at him—really looked. He wanted this, clearly. And truthfully, five minutes wasn’t a bad compromise…
“Fine. But if you break your promise and go fast, I swear to Merlin—”
“Consequences, I know,” he said smugly. “I might enjoy those.”
“You won’t,” she assured him flatly.
Before she could change her mind, he zoomed forward, scooped her up with one arm like she weighed nothing, and sat her sideways on his lap as they soared upward.
She screamed and buried her face into his neck. “DRACO!”
He only laughed, holding her securely as they climbed higher into the sky. Once he was satisfied with the height, he slowed and tilted his broom just slightly.
“Look,” he murmured. “It’s beautiful.”
She peeked with one eye and immediately regretted it. The château looked tiny below them.
“Draco, this is too high!”
“It’s fine, darling. Just focus on me,” he whispered, nuzzling her temple.
He dipped them slightly lower, and she relaxed—barely. He guided her chin toward him and gave her a soft kiss, but she was still too tense to melt into it.
“Why do you hate flying so much?” he asked gently.
“I prefer solid ground. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Not an adrenaline junkie, I see.”
“Absolutely not. Three minutes left.”
He smirked. “Not enough time to shag, sadly…”
“Are you mad ?”
“…but I could probably make you come,” he added slyly.
“Draco—!”
“Do you trust me?” he asked seriously, his hand settling between her thighs.
She stared at him, breath caught.
“Of course I trust you, but—” she started, but her voice faltered when his fingers brushed along the inside of her thigh under her skirt.
“But nothing,” he murmured, nipping gently at her jaw. “Let me take care of you, love. You don’t have to do anything but feel.”
Her heart was pounding—not just from the height, but from the way he was looking at her. His gaze was steady, reverent, and so sure of her, of them.
She let out a shaky breath, shifting slightly in his lap. Her legs parted just enough for him to slide his hand between them, cupping her through the thin fabric of her knickers.
“Oh—Merlin,” she breathed, clutching his shoulders.
He smiled against her neck and kissed her pulse point, his fingers stroking her slowly, coaxing her body to relax as the wind whipped around them. Her head tipped back with a soft gasp when he found just the right rhythm, her hips beginning to move against his hand despite herself.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “Just like that.”
She buried her face in his neck again, half-hiding from the sky, half-surrendering to the sensation building low in her belly. The tension of flying, of being so high above everything, seemed to melt away under the firm, focused pressure of his hand.
He slid his fingers beneath the lace and found her slick with arousal, circling her with practiced ease.
“You’re soaked for me already,” he groaned, his voice rough with need. “My perfect girl… Always so responsive.”
Hermione whimpered, her face still pressed into the curve of his neck, trying to hold herself together while her body betrayed her—hips twitching forward, thighs trembling around his hand. The tension of flying, of being up in the clouds, seemed to blur into something else entirely—adrenaline mixing with arousal until she couldn’t tell them apart.
“Don’t you dare drop me,” she hissed, the threat barely audible through her panting breaths, her voice trembling on the edge of laughter and want.
“Never,” he murmured, and she could feel the smirk against her skin as he kissed below her ear, slow and deliberate. “You’re the only thing I’ve ever held this carefully.”
His fingers slipped lower to her entrance before slipping inside, pressing up against that bundle of nerves that drove her crazy, making her gasp—a desperate, broken sound that was swallowed up by the wind around them. He moved with infuriating control, pumping in and out of her several times before returning to her clit and circling her slowly, teasing her with just enough pressure to keep her on edge.
“Draco,” she whimpered, clutching at his shoulders like a lifeline.
“Shhh, I’ve got you,” he whispered, brushing his lips across her cheek. “Let me take care of you, love. Just let go.”
He kissed her again, deeper this time, and she melted into it as his fingers began to move in earnest, firm and precise, coaxing small, helpless moans from her lips as her hips began to move in time with his touch. Every nerve in her body was on fire, every ounce of fear drowned by the sensation he was building inside her.
“You feel that?” he murmured against her lips. “Your body knows who you belong to.”
She was too far gone to reply—her head was tipped back, eyes fluttering shut, breath catching on every stroke. The muscles in her belly tightened, coiling hard and fast.
“Fuck—Draco—I—oh, gods—”
His pace quickened slightly, knowing just what she needed, and his voice dropped into a dark, reverent growl.
“Come for me, Hermione,” he breathed into her ear. “Right here in my arms. Let me feel you.”
The words undid her.
Her body locked around his hand as the orgasm crashed over her, so sharp and sudden it stole her breath. She cried out, the sound lost against his shoulder, muffled by the way she buried her face into him. Her whole body trembled, her arms clutching him like she might fall—even though he held her tighter than ever, grounding her in his embrace.
He murmured soft, soothing things into her hair as she came down, his lips brushing against her temple while his fingers finally stilled. Her breathing was erratic, her body spent and still trembling slightly as he eased his hand away and wrapped both arms around her again, protective and warm.
“There’s my girl,” he said softly, kissing her hair. “You did so well.”
She didn’t respond right away, still curled against him, boneless and dazed.
Eventually, she exhaled a shaky laugh. “You are a menace.”
He chuckled, smug and deeply satisfied. “And yet, you let me fly you for longer.”
“You bribed me with an orgasm,” she muttered.
“I’d say it worked.”
She swatted him weakly, still flushed and breathless.
“Still think this was a bad idea?” he murmured.
“I think you’re insufferable,” she mumbled against his collar. “But… perhaps it wasn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had.”
He grinned. “I’ll take it.”
They flew a little while longer, then eventually landed softly, the broom touching down near their friends. He helped her off and steadied her when her knees wobbled a bit. She swatted him with a flushed smile, cheeks pink from more than just the wind.
“If you ever tell anyone what just happened, I will hex your bits off,” she warned.
Draco chuckled. “Your secret’s safe with me, Mrs. Malfoy.”
She rolled her eyes but squeezed his hand, her heart still fluttering—not from the height, but from the way he’d looked at her up there.
Like she was the only thing that mattered.
***
They had a delicious dinner together that evening, full of laughter and glowing candlelight, with heartfelt toasts in honor of their one-year wedding anniversary. Hermione beamed at Draco, scarcely believing how quickly the time had flown. One year. It felt like both a blink and a lifetime.
Draco looked especially pleased that night and hardly took his hands off her. They agreed to only give each other sentimental gifts, and exchanged heartfelt love letters to be read at a later time, since it was the paper anniversary, after all.
Eventually, the group drifted out onto the lawn beneath the glittering night sky, tipsy and warm with summer wine. Luna created a twinkling light show with her wand, trailing silver stars and swirling auroras across the dark velvet sky, soon joined by the others, crafting their own versions with bursts of color and sparks.
Hermione sat nestled between Draco’s outstretched legs, his arms around her waist, his chin resting lightly on her shoulder as they stared up at the stars. She wondered how she got so lucky to have such happiness in her life, surrounded by friends, loved so deeply by a man she felt so utterly safe with.
For some reason, she briefly thought of Ron and wished him well wherever he was, hoping he had found some peace in his afterlife. A moment of survivor’s guilt passed through her mind, and she couldn’t help the tear that slid down her cheek, thinking about how she had everything because so many others had sacrificed everything.
Draco kissed it away without a word, holding her tighter.
“We both fought for this,” he murmured, voice low in her ear. “Let yourself have it, my love.” Somehow, knowing exactly what was going through her head.
She nodded and leaned further back into his arms, allowing a wave of peace to settle within her. He was right, and she hoped that being happy now somehow honored the memory of everyone she had lost in the war.
She glanced around the lawn, her eyes catching on Harry and Ginny wrapped in each other’s arms, laughing under the stars. Their wedding was just weeks away. Harry had sacrificed more than anyone she knew, and yet he still smiled, still looked forward to the future. His perspective had always been the same whenever they spoke of the war: that he wasn’t meant to survive, so since death hadn’t claimed him yet, he was going to make the most of the time he’d been given. For his parents. For Sirius and Remus. Even for Dumbledore—though they all had more complicated feelings about the man now.
He really couldn’t have been a little more transparent before Severus had to kill him? A topic for another time…
She saw Theo holding Astoria’s hand as they walked slowly together, stopping to kiss briefly before continuing on. They were sweet together. Watching them gave Hermione hope for her friend to find the same happiness she’d found with Draco.
“Do you think it’ll last?” she asked Draco quietly.
“Perhaps,” he said after a pause. “We’ll have to wait and see.”
“I hope it does. She’s good for him.”
Draco was silent for a moment before sighing. “I’m not sure she’s right for him in the long run.”
Hermione turned to look at him. “Why not?”
He hesitated. “I know something, but you have to promise not to tell anyone. It’s rather private,” Draco said, his voice quiet.
“Of course. Tell me.”
“When I was fourteen, just before I started dating Pansy, our families tried to arrange a betrothal between me and one of the Greengrass girls. During the vetting process, it was discovered that Astoria carries a malediction.”
Hermione gasped. “She has a blood curse?”
Draco nodded. “It won’t affect her for a while yet, but eventually it will. She’ll weaken with time. If she has a child, it could accelerate the process. She likely won’t live to an old age.”
Hermione stared at him, the weight of the information settling in her chest. “Does Theo know?”
He nodded again.
“And he still wants to be with her regardless?”
“Theo doesn’t care about having children, and he doesn’t dwell on the future. He figures if he gets a couple of decades of good years with her, then it will have all been worth it. He’s not put off by the idea of a tragic love story. He just cares about being truly loved in the first place.”
Hermione shook her head, the idea unbearable. She leaned back into Draco, gripping his arms more firmly.
“If I ever lost you… I don’t know if I could ever move on from it. I’ve lost too much, Draco. It would be agonizing to know what it’s like to have what we have and then have it ripped away. I don’t think I’m strong enough to survive something like that.”
Draco leaned down, brushing a soft kiss to her cheek. “You’re the strongest person I know. You would survive. You have people who love you, who would help you through it. But I’m not going anywhere, not if I can help it.”
She took a deep breath and gave him a nod, but deep down, she knew—if she ever lost Draco, it would be her undoing. Nothing short of a miracle would ever pull her out of that kind of despair and grief.
As she looked up at the stars, she offered a silent prayer—that she would always know the love of her dragon, that he’d never leave her side. Not until she was old and gray, until time had done its work and she could meet death as a friend so that they could be together once more.
If only the universe were that kind…