Written for the 2019 Strictly Dramione Valentine's Day Smut Fest. Head over to AO3 for the entire collection. There are some real gems!

Prompt #122: "Carry a camera and ask strange, handsome men if they would mind snapping your picture."

Huge thanks to my AMAZING Beta, Sonomia. You are the best!

No real notes. Just enjoy.

Watching Draco work was hypnotizing. Hermione watched the way his pupils dilated when he focused on his subject and the way his long fingers curled around the camera, his index finger dancing on the shutter button. She swallowed as she observed the way his pink tongue stuck out from his teeth in concentration.

It was all too much for Hermione.

She excused herself for a moment to the other side of the snow-covered Quidditch pitch, away from the photoshoot where Draco was busy photographing the gorgeous Antoine Headley, captain of the Wimbourne Wasps. Facing the stands, Hermione closed her eyes and took deep, calming breaths. No matter how much those fingers drove her mad, Draco was only a friend. A friend who had asked for her help with work this weekend.

Draco had just received the best-paying gig of his photography career: an exhibition for the International Quidditch Association on powerful female Quidditch players. After years of independent work, displaying his photographs in small exhibitions, and rebuilding a rapport with the wizarding community from the ground up, he was finally beginning to get the kinds of jobs that would get him a world-class reputation.

Draco had Flooed over unannounced just after the New Year, champagne in hand and bursting with news of his new project. Of course, Hermione had agreed to help in any way she could. Even if it meant waking up before dawn on a Saturday to hold a reflector for hours on end in the freezing cold.

Why? Because she was a sucker. She was a sucker who was dreadfully, unfortunately, and completely attracted to Draco Malfoy. The worst part? He was one of her best friends and was clearly oblivious to her attraction. They had struck up a friendship four years previously at a Ministry gala celebrating the most promising young people in the magical community. Hermione had won an award for her humanitarian work with the torture victims of the war, something she felt didn't need any sort of special recognition. She had been shocked at Draco's honor: he had been awarded for his photography work with little-known magical communities in rural Eastern Europe.

As award recipients, they had been seated at a table together. After two hours of speeches, spotlights, and intrusive conversation, Hermione had been itching to leave. Draco, it seemed, had the same itch. When the focus in the room had shifted onto the Minister, Draco had grabbed her arm and they had managed to play hooky for the rest of the evening.

It was that night that Hermione learned all about Draco's travels through Europe after taking his NEWTs; he had left the country to clear his head and ended up finding photography along the way. Talking with Draco Malfoy was unlike talking with Harry and Ron, whom she loved dearly, but who always seemed to be two steps behind. Not Draco. Their conversation that night was so involved and interesting that they had been the last ones out of the pub, and it had been like that for many nights over the past four years.

But it wasn't merely friendship she wanted from Draco. Oh, no. The idea of being just friends with Draco had evaporated ages ago when she had accidentally walked in on him pleasuring himself in the shower. He had had his back to her, so he hadn't seen her, but she had certainly seen him. She saw the way his muscular back moved under the spray of the shower and heard the guttural sounds he made with each stroke…and so help her she wanted nothing more than to squeeze his beautiful, globed arse.

And now Hermione had a perfect view of that same arse as Draco bent over to get another photo of Antoine.

She really had to pull herself together. Today wasn't about her. It was about him.

Shaking her head and clenching her thighs, she headed back over to the photoshoot and resumed her job of holding the reflector. Draco shot a smile in her direction as the stylist rearranged Antoine's hair. The way his eyes crinkled made her legs turn to jelly, but she managed a smile in return. And then all the air in her lungs disappeared as he turned the camera in her direction, his long finger clicking the shutter button a couple times.

He did this sometimes. Probably to get a rise out of her. Merlin knew how many sneaky photos he had taken of her over the years.

Then he winked. Hermione drew a breath to say something, but before she could get a single word out, the stylist finished and Draco resumed his work.

It was infuriating. Every time he did something like that, she could swear he was flirting. Every female instinct in her body told her he was flirting. But other than the occasional candid photograph – none of which she had ever seen, mind you – he treated her as a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

Hermione held the reflector for another thirty minutes, her mind turning over and over in fuzzy confusion as Draco wrapped up the photoshoot.

"That went well, I think," Draco said as he walked over to her, camera in one hand, and running his other hand through his blonde locks.

"What? Oh, yes. Very well," she responded, folding the reflector and tucking it into its case.

"You all right, Hermione? You seem distracted today." He reached out to take the reflector from her.

"Oh, you know. Just tired from waking up so early. Plus, this damn wind will be the end of me." She smirked at her friend and elbowed him.

"Yeah, sorry about that. You totally saved the shoot." Draco gave a lopsided smile and offered his arm to her. She took it, leaning into him. They began to walk up the Quidditch pitch together toward the apparition point. "Thank you. I owe you one."

Hermione thought of a few very naughty things he could do to pay her back, but she squashed down those ideas. "It's fine, Draco. What are friends for?"

Draco stopped walking and turned toward her, placing his hand on her shoulder. His silver eyes gazed into her brown ones, his pupils dancing back and forth as if searching for something. "I'm serious, Hermione. You've been so supportive of this project. You didn't have to help me today, but you did anyway. Please, let me do something for you."

The intensity in his gaze shot straight to the apex of her thighs and she squirmed. "Right. Well, I'm sure I'll think of something," she managed to squeak. Draco grinned and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He squeezed her momentarily, giving her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. She shrieked, wiping her face and pushing him away, a laugh dancing on her lips.

"You just let me know, Hermione. C'mon. Let's go get some breakfast."

The solution to Hermione's conundrum came from an unusual source. Mrs. Weasley had decided to purge the entire house now that all her children had finally moved out. She managed to wrangle Hermione and Ginny, who spent the whole morning helping. They had already been shocked by a stack of revealing photos of a much-younger Mrs. Weasley, the backs of which contained surprisingly sultry messages.

"Look at this, Hermione!" Ginny laughed, tossing over an old magazine. Hermione examined the cover of a dusty edition of Witch Weekly.

"129 Ways to Find a Husband? You've got to be joking." Hermione flipped to the article in question and began to read the suggestions aloud. After several minutes, both women were holding their stomachs, eyes watering from some of the more ludicrous tips.

"I can't take it anymore," Ginny chuckled as she wiped her eyes. "Burn that thing, Hermione."

She moved to toss the magazine in the rubbish bin when #122 caught her eye: "Carry a camera and ask strange, handsome men if they would mind snapping your picture."

She didn't have a camera, but she knew someone who did…someone who seemed to enjoy snapping candid photos of her and who had offered her a favor. Could that be a good idea? Draco had been taking photos of such gorgeous, athletic witches recently. Surely, she couldn't compare.

But maybe – just maybe – Draco always talked about how the camera could capture things unseen by the naked eye. What would he see if he captured her on camera? Really captured her? Hermione's eyes fell to the stack of flirtatious photos, now sitting on the floor.

Oh, no. Could she? Did she dare? Would she spook Draco if she used her favor in that way?

He's a professional her mind reasoned. He'd do it if that's what you wanted.

But what she wanted from him wasn't professional.

No, fucking her until she couldn't remember her name wasn't typically considered professional.

The exhibition was set to open the day after Valentine's Day, and Hermione had spent much of the past several days helping Draco with final details. The poor man was near peak exhaustion and was in desperate need of a distraction.

Three days out from the opening, both sat on the floor of the gallery devouring pizza and beer. In between bites, Hermione decided to bring up her idea to Draco. Her favor could provide him with that much-needed distraction, after all. Either that, or the whole idea would blow up in her face and Draco would never want to speak to her again.

Hermione tried to focus on the positive.

"So," she said, wiping her hands on her trousers as Draco took a swig of beer, "I've been thinking about that favor you owe me."

He quirked an eyebrow. "For being basically the best friend ever these past few weeks?" Draco placed a hand on her knee and Hermione fought butterflies. Thank Merlin for beer. It was giving her courage. "What do you want?"

Hermione took a deep breath.

"I want you to take my photo."

Draco tilted his head, snorting. "Take your photo? Hermione, I've taken your photo loads of times before."

"Yes, but – " she felt the beer kicking in, " – I've never seen those photos. Besides, I want a real photoshoot." Hermione stood, hands in her trouser pockets, and looked around the gallery. "All these Quidditch players…you've made them look so beautiful." Hermione took a deep breath and looked her best friend in the eye. "I want you to make me feel beautiful, Draco."

Draco crept to his feet, but his face seemed frozen, mouth slightly agape and Adam's apple bobbing. His eyebrow twitched again. He licked his lower lip and Hermione thought her chest would explode.

"You are beautiful, Hermione…do you not think that?"

Hermione sighed.

"It's not…that." Hermione removed her hands from her pockets and began to fidget. "I just want…I want to feel…desirable."

A blush crept up her entire upper body – she could feel her skin prickle from her chest up. Draco's expression hadn't shifted. He remained still, blinking. She pressed on.

"I want you to take my photo because you always seem to capture your subjects at their most raw and real. I guess I'm just curious what I look like to you through that lens." Hermione bit her lip and took a step toward her best friend.

"Yeah? Erm, yeah. I can do that." Draco had confusion in his eyes as he looked at her.

"Thanks, Draco. It really means a lot that you would do this." She reached forward and took his hand in hers.

"Any idea about time and location?"

"I was thinking Friday at my flat. That way we won't be interrupted, and we can de-stress before your big event. Think of it as a lowkey Valentines thing for you and me."

Draco was nodding along, eyes not meeting hers. He seemed a million miles away.

"Great!" Hermione ducked to pick up their pizza box and beer bottles, but just as she swooped down, Draco grabbed her wrist. Hermione looked up to see Draco's grey eyes shining, searching hers.

"Hermione, I…you know I think you're beautiful, right?"

Hermione's heart began to pound. She managed to speak, despite feeling as though her mouth was stuffed with cotton. "I do, but – " Hermione took a deep breath, " – but I want to see what you see."

She grabbed the rubbish and her purse. "Friday. My flat. Just us." With a flick of her wand, she disapparated.

Gods, she had just done it.

Hermione wasn't even sure exactly what she wanted, but she prepared by pushing every Gryffindor instinct to the forefront of her mind. This was it for her – her big moment to show Draco Malfoy just how much she wanted him. It was all or nothing.

Hermione hadn't held back. Her closet was now filled with more lingerie than she had ever pictured herself owning. As the clock ticked closer to Draco's arrival on Friday afternoon, Hermione put on a lacy black bra with matching knickers, black thigh-highs, and garters. Black stilettos completed the look. She forced herself to take deep breaths as she gazed at herself in the mirror.

Go big or go home, right?

Hermione heard a knock at the front door. She jumped, throwing on a silky, baby blue robe and padded over to meet her guest. Just as she was about to open the door, she hesitated.

This was a terrible idea.

Closing her eyes and swallowing, she steeled herself. Was she a Gryffindor or not?

Draco stood on her stoop, fist poised to knock again. In his hands, he held a bouquet of roses.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he said with a smile, extending the hand with the flowers. Hermione's heart clenched as she accepted the bouquet.

She could do this.

Draco set his equipment down in the living room and turned to face her. He was wearing his usual black trousers and white button-down, the top two buttons undone. "Are you still getting ready? I can wait here if you want." He indicated the sofa.

"I…no. I'm ready if you are."

Draco looked her up and down. "What were you imagining for today, Hermione?"

Courage.

Hermione took a deep breath and didn't break eye contact when she replied. "I want to do a budoir shoot."

Draco sucked in his breath and bit his lip. "Right. Yeah?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah."

With a deep breath, Draco clapped his hands together. "Oh-kay. Bedroom it is. Let me get some lighting set up and we can get started."

Hermione watched as Draco followed his usual photoshoot setup routine. "So, a budoir photoshoot. Very bold, Miss Granger," Draco said as he finished up. "May I ask why?"

"It's like I said." Hermione moved to sit on her bed. "I want you to make me feel beautiful."

Draco nodded. "I can understand that. Let's start with some simple shots from the back." Draco grabbed his camera and leaned against the wall. "Go ahead and turn around and sit on your knees. Undo your robe and slip it off just past your shoulders."

She turned around to face her pillows and grimaced. What had she gotten herself into?

"Good, now look down your left shoulder. Tilt your head up just a bit. Yes!" Hermione heard the shutter click, and a thrill coursed through her body. The shutter clicked several more times.

"All right. Let's…remove the robe." Draco's voice seemed to waver as he gave directions. That nervous energy transferred to her, making her body quake and her heart pound. Her hands shook as she slipped the robe down the rest of her body. She waited for more directions, but none came. A glance over her shoulder revealed that Draco was staring open-mouthed at her.

"Draco?" Hermione's cheeks heated as she felt him rake his gaze over her.

"What? Yes. Erm, raise your arms and tangle them in your hair a bit." Hermione did as directed and the camera clicked again. "Good. Now go ahead and turn around."

Hermione steadied her breathing as she rearranged herself on the white sheets. Something about seeing Draco standing at the foot of her bed as she sat in nothing but lingerie made the current situation that much more real. She wasn't sure whether to rejoice or panic. Draco hadn't really reacted much yet. Granted, she hadn't expected him to jump her bones immediately, but some reaction would be better than nothing.

"May I…touch you?"

Hermione choked.

"No…I…" Draco fumbled with his words. "I just want to rearrange something. May I?"

She nodded, and Draco set his camera down. Hermione watched as he stepped forward and reached out. His fingers were shaking. They settled on her bra strap, which he pushed off her shoulder until it hung limp off her upper arm.

He withdrew again and brought his camera to his face. Hermione looked into the lens. Click. Draco approached her again, hand outstretched, a questioning look on his face. This time, the long fingers she had so often admired reached out and caressed the skin just below her left collarbone.

Her curse scar.

"What's this?" he asked, his fingers tracing the marred flesh.

"Dolhov. Fifth year. Not sure what curse it was, but it cut across my entire torso." She indicated her right abdomen, where the scar ended. "I forget about it most of the time. That's why…" Hermione sighed. Go big or go home my arse. "I should have worn a chemise instead. Then you wouldn't have to see it."

Draco's brows furrowed as he looked at her, but he didn't remove his hand. Instead, he continued to trace the scar down her chest, between the valley of her breasts, and down to her stomach. Hermione felt her hair stand on end, her body erupting in goose pimples. Her heart was racing so fast, she was sure he could hear it.

And then a whisper so faint; but there was no mistaking what she heard.

"So beautiful."

Without breaking eye contact, Draco set his camera down on the bed, planting his hands on either side of her body. He brought his face level with hers. "Hermione Granger, you are so beautiful it hurts. I can't bear the thought of you thinking anything else." His eyes turned molten, and Hermione clenched her core as his pupils dilated. Draco dropped his head and trailed soft kisses on her shoulder. She moaned at the contact, and Draco pulled back for a moment. His surprised expression turned to a smirk. He leaned in once more, his mouth level with her ear.

"You said you wanted me to show you what I see when I look at you…that you wanted me to make you feel beautiful. Is this what you had in mind, Hermione?"

She nodded.

"You little minx."

Hermione felt Draco's sweet breath on her cheek. She leaned in, bringing her mouth right beside his; her lips ghosted his. She could feel his smirk even without seeing it.

"Forget this elaborate plot, Hermione. Tell me what you want."

Courage.

"You."

Chocolate eyes met silver and Hermione drew breath.

Then he kissed her.

It was pure bliss. The feeling of his hot lips on her own only fed the flames building in her body. Draco nipped at her, slipping his tongue into her mouth. Hermione reached up and carded a hand through his hair, the other gripping the back of his neck to draw him even closer as she bit down on his lower lip. His groan echoed through her bedroom and Draco moved onto the bed, settling one of his knees at the apex of her thighs. As the knee shifted back and forth, a delicious friction began to build heat in Hermione's core. She clenched her legs together to keep Draco in place. She had only heard that groan once before, and hearing it again brought the memory of him wanking to the forefront of her mind. Her walls quaked with excitement at the thought, and she must have also shown outward signs of pleasure, because Draco seemed to double his efforts.

He palmed her breast, and Hermione arched into his hand, wanting to feel more of him. He responded to her enthusiasm by dragging his mouth down her neck, leaving small bites and kisses along her collar bone. She pressed further into him, and Draco left hot, open-mouthed kisses over the thin lace of her bra. The combination of Draco's mouth on her and his knee pressing her in her most sensitive spot drove her wild. As she squirmed beneath him, Draco gave a feral growl.

"Do you understand how I see you now?" he asked between kisses, his voice low. Hermione felt a shiver run from one end of her body to the other. "How could I see you any other way, you perfect creature?"

Hermione cupped Draco's jaw with both her hands and drew his face back to hers. The moment their lips made contact, she wrapped her legs around Draco's waist, her fingers laced at the nape of his neck. Neither her lacy knickers nor his black trousers were enough to hold back the feeling of Draco's bulge rubbing against her center and she gave a wanton moan.

"Too many damn clothes," she hissed, tugging his shirt with her hands.

In a flash, Draco had untangled himself from her grip, shoved his shirt over his head, and jumped out of his trousers. The two were equal now – both covered in scars and wearing the bare minimum. And that minimum was far too little to hide Draco's massive erection. It stood in front of him proudly underneath his shorts, and Hermione's eyes were drawn to it. She leaned forward to caress him through the fabric, but Draco stopped her.

His eyes found hers and Hermione couldn't quite define the expression on his face. Lust? Adoration? Something else? Whatever he was trying to communicate, it made her knickers soaked and her heart flutter.

"You wanted me to show you how beautiful I find you? Let me show you."

Draco crawled over her with cat-like grace. Each muscle in his gorgeous body was as perfect as she remembered from her previous, secret glimpse. He didn't break eye contact as he kissed his way down her body, stopping to worship each breast and trailing his tongue down her stomach until he arrived at the black lace. She expected him to go for the kill, but instead, he moved down to her feet, removing her heels with care and kissing the tops of her feet. With movements so tortuously slow it made Hermione pant, Draco reached for her garters and unhooked them. Each stocking came sliding down, and Draco kissed up her left leg. He still hadn't looked away, and Hermione thought she would melt from the intensity of his gaze.

And then without warning, Draco grabbed her knickers and ripped them from her body. Normally, she might have protested that these knickers were new and rather expensive, but the moment Draco pressed his skillful tongue to her slit, all was forgiven.

"Oh, fuck," she cried as Draco found her clit and began sucking it in earnest.

"Such a dirty mouth. What else have you been hiding from me, Hermione?"

She moaned in response.

Draco feasted on her, taking two long digits and pushing them inside her. After watching those fingers and imagining how skillful they must be for years, reality turned out to indescribable. They felt so much better than any fantasy had led her to imagine. All control was lost, and Hermione spasmed under the continued work of his hands and mouth. Draco built a rhythm with his fingers, his tongue creating a delicious pressure on her clit until she fell over the edge. Her eyes closed and her mouth fell open as she basked in pleasure.

Then she heard a soft click.

Eyes opening, she found Draco kneeling at the edge of the bed, camera in hand. The moment he lowered it from his face, Hermione saw the confidence he had just possessed flicker in his eyes. He looked down as he spoke, as if avoiding her.

"Was that all right? You just looked so beautiful, I wanted to capture it. I'll..I'll get rid of the photo if you're uncomfortable." It was as though the carnal Draco that had just eaten her out had been replaced by a far more timid person. "It's just…all those photos I've taken of you…" Draco paused, his face flushed, "You always seem to doubt your beauty, but I've always seen it."

He looked up, his eyes piercing her own, and Hermione's breath shook.

"You are so lovely, Hermione. I don't need my camera to show that."

Draco slid off the bed, setting his camera down, and walked around to the side of the bed. He grabbed Hermione by the bottoms of her thighs, pulling her center to his own. Draco grunted at the contact, the fire returning to his gaze. He stretched forward, reaching under her to unhook her bra, tossing it aside and returning to face her. He slid up her body until his hands fell on either side of her face, their noses touching.

"I've wanted you for years, Hermione Granger. Judging by the state of your gorgeous quim and the way you dressed for me today, I'm guessing you want me too. Is that right?" he said, smirking.

He ground his erection into her, and her hips rose up to meet him, but her voice wasn't working, so she nodded. That was all Draco needed, because the next moment, he had slid his shorts off to reveal the one bit of him that she hadn't seen: his glorious, and thick cock, jutting out and practically dripping.

She barely had time to take it in. Within seconds, Draco had wrapped her legs around his waist and slammed into her, filling her completely. They both groaned at the contact. Years of watching – wanting – Draco came crashing around her with the realization that he wanted her too. An overwhelming feeling of completeness bubbled over inside her as he began to move, his hips meeting hers in a lusty rhythm. The slap of skin on skin filled her ears as Draco pushed in and out of her, bringing her closer to a high each time.

Draco pulled Hermione to his chest, their bodies still connected intimately, and shoved her back onto the wall of her bedroom. She clung to him for dear life with her legs, their hands roaming in a frenzy over their sweaty torsos. Draco continued to pound into her with such a fever that Hermione felt she might faint from the sensation. When Draco's thumb found her clit again, she screamed, her climax ripped from her. She felt her walls flutter, and Draco grunted, clearly feeling it as well. His thrusts became erratic as he came with a shout.

Neither moved for a full minute, their chests heaving. Draco placed his slick forehead on hers, and she saw a smile dance on his lips.

"I've been wondering about us for a while."

Hermione chuckled. "Well you can clearly stop wondering now. I've wanted you since I accidentally saw you getting off three years ago."

Draco pulled his head back, his eyes wide. "I have so many questions, but the thought of you watching me wank makes me want to fuck you all over again." Hermione felt him swell within her once more. He shifted their bodies so he was lying on the bed with her on top, but not before he grabbed his camera. Hermione rode him slowly, teasing his tip before sinking onto him at a pace that made him whine with anticipation.

But his pleasure wasn't so overwhelming that he forgot about his camera. Draco snapped several photos as they fucked – photos of her face, of her body, and of his cock buried inside her.

Their third time, they made love, Draco on top, his camera forgotten on the bedside table. Hermione wanted to savor every moment with him – to remember every expression on his face and every word he uttered. After, when they curled up naked together, tangled in her sheets, Draco wished her a Happy Valentine's Day in a whisper. She planted kisses on his chest in return.

"What'll people think when we show up together to your exhibition tomorrow?" Hermione pondered, nuzzling into his neck, her legs splayed over his.

"Probably 'about fucking time 'or something to that effect." They both chuckled.

They stayed in comfortable silence for a minute before Hermione looked up at Draco.

"If it's as boring as that award ceremony four years ago, you want to play hooky with me?" she asked, a devilish grin spread across her face.

"Only if I can take off your dress this time," he answered, smirking. "I didn't think I was allowed to last time, and it nearly drove me mad."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up.

"Like I said," Draco shrugged. "It's been a long time coming."

Hermione laughed and snuggled into her best friend.

"So, you mentioned earlier that you had other lingerie you could put on…" Draco's voice trailed off as he rested his hand on her breast.

"I do. A whole closet full of it."

It was Draco's turn to raise his eyebrows.

"But I think you'll just have to wait until tomorrow to see any more. It'll give you something to…look forward to."

"You do realize that all I'll be thinking about during every single interview and important conversation tomorrow will be what kind of knickers you'll be wearing, don't you?"

"Or maybe," Hermione crawled on top of him, "I won't be wearing any at all."

Draco groaned. "You're going to be the end of me, woman."

"I intend to be just that."

She swooped down, claiming his lips once more, silently thanking that stupid, wonderful magazine.

This is the first smut piece I've ever released! I'm nervous and excited simultaneously. I hope I did the fest justice. Love to all of you!

BiscuitsForPotter