Author's Note: So sorry for the wait! I can't believe it's taken me two years to pump this out, lmao. Those of you who've been waiting, I can't thank you enough. I hope you like it!

Reckless, what I'm heading for
Lights flash, and I hear a roar
One touch and you're so powerful
You're burning through the night

"Meteorite" by Years & Years

They kept to their separate corners of the lounge in the quiet that followed, looking anywhere but directly at one another.

Hermione turned, sliding into her pale pink robe as the logs in the fireplace continued to hiss and crackle in the background. There was a faint whisper in the back of her mind, a voice. She knew it was rude of her not to say anything — to thank him or to offer tea. All things considered, she could barely bring herself to even make eye contact, let alone part her lips and speak.

To her relief, she didn't have to.

"Granger, I …"

Her chest tightened at the sound of his voice. Get a hold of yourself, Hermione Granger. You're a grown woman, for Merlin's sake!

Getting a hold of oneself was easier said than done, apparently.

Malfoy came forward — the slow, subdued rhythm of his shoes against the hardwood, echoing in the negative space between them. He came to a gradual halt, hovering only a few steps back as Hermione hesitantly turned, her eyes locked down on the floor.

Very slowly, she lifted her gaze.

The atmosphere grew still. Every sound, every motion, and every tick of the clock, slowed.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, glancing down at his hands immediately after. The brunette followed his line of vision, the knot in her stomach unraveling, as she laid eyes on the drawing. He held it between them, in quiet observation of her change in expression, the way her breath seemed to catch in her chest.

"It's … you're … I … it's … " Hermione swallowed the jumble of words in her throat, meeting his gaze. "You really are an amazing artist, Draco Malfoy."

His lips turned into a hint of a smile and he set the drawing atop the chaise, accidentally brushing Hermione's arm. "Sorry," he suddenly said, leaning away after. "I didn't mean to —"

"It's alright," she interjected.

They steered their looks in opposite directions, the storm outside having calmed.

"I, er … I suppose I should head off, then …" Malfoy began. "I imagine you've got your hands full with Longbottom."

Hermione moistened the dryness in her throat. "Right, yes."

For whatever reason she felt strange letting him go so soon. They had only just finished, and yet, she soon found herself following him to the door, coming forward to unlock it as he slid his coat on.

"Thanks again for coming to the art show," Malfoy reiterated, for what felt like the dozenth time.

Pressing her lips into a polite smile, Hermione nodded. "It was my pleasure. Do tell me if there's another," she said, in a voice which bore strange resemblance to the one she used at work.

Without another word, Malfoy came forth, facing her for only a split second before he bowed his head in farewell.

To say it was awkward would have been a gross distortion of facts.

Despite it all, she said nothing. She simply stood by the door as he passed through it, his pale head of hair dipping into the darkness. I should have at least asked him to stay and wait for the power to return, she thought, her lips twitching apart before she could stop them.

"Malfoy, wait —"

He froze mid-step, glancing back at the witch before the words had finished leaving her lips.

" — Y-you forgot your scarf," Hermione uttered, swiping it from the coat rack.

Rubbing the side of his neck to find that it was bare, Malfoy blinked away whatever emotion had flickered through his eyes, an embarrassed colouring to his cheeks as he came forward to collect his scarf. "Thanks. I-I must have had more wine than I thought."

Hermione cleared her throat, putting on a smile. "S'okay," she said, passing him the scarf only to glance down at it as their hands brushed.

For a hot second they stood there exactly like that, both holding on, neither saying a word. It was only as Hermione blinked up at him, vaguely aware of the rush of feelings in her chest, that she dropped the scarf and lunged forward at the same time he did.

To her complete shock, she didn't vomit on contact

As if coming to the same realization, Malfoy tensed, but it lasted only a moment.

Within seconds, he wove his fingers through her hair and kissed her deeper than anyone had in a very long time — that she could remember, at least. She was sure that Nott had given her his best at the Christmas party, but she wasn't particularly keen on thinking of him just then.

Her only concern was keeping her balance as she and Malfoy backed up, through the door and into her flat, bumping into various walls and tables and shelves on their way to the loveseat. The furniture was all scattered and rearranged, but they somehow managed. Crashing down on top of the cushions, first him on top and then her, they pulled back to catch their breaths.

The candlelight made his eyes look smooth and hot, like liquid steel, and the way he was looking at her, utterly fixated like he was drawing her all over again, didn't help.

Hermione leaned in, succumbing to a much softer kiss, one that resonated through every inch of her body as the clothes gradually started coming off. Malfoy shrugged his coat off, and then his shirt, and suddenly the positions were flipped. He lowered Hermione onto the couch, suspending his weight above her as he left a trail of kisses from her lips, to her neck, to the gap between her breasts, unraveling her dressing gown as he went.

The second she felt his lips between her legs, she nearly passed out.

Malfoy's going down on me.

How in Merlin's fucking name did I end up here?

More importantly, why does it feel s-so g-good?

She squeezed her eyes closed, clamping down on her bottom lip to keep from making too loud a sound. Part of her had always wondered if Draco Malfoy could do more with his mouth than talk absolute rubbish. The way he used his lips and the very tip of his tongue, had left her breathless, clutching at the roots of his hair.

It wasn't long before she came, her clit twitching hard against his tongue as he kept going.

On the verge of losing all feeling in her lower half, Hermione choked, quickly releasing the grasp she had on his hair as he finally pulled away. "M-Merlin …" she panted.

"I've always wanted to do that," he said to her, as if he actually meant it.

Chest rising and falling, she slowly collected her breath, meeting him upright, in a kiss that soon found its way down her neck. "I might have considered it had you not been such an insufferable, little c-cockroach in s-school."

She felt his lips twitch into a smirk. "Sorry about that," he apologized, his words tickling the skin of her neck. "How could I ever make it up to you, Granger?"

Heart pounding inside her chest, she climbed on top of him again, reaching down to unbuckle his belt. "Maybe this way," she uttered.

His muscles tightened in response, as if just the notion of it, made him shiver.

In a matter of seconds, his trousers were off, and he'd slid a condom down his length, the narrow distance between them filled only with the sounds of their breaths as they held them tightly and then released.

Hermione came down on him inch by inch, lips quivering apart, her body feeling hot and cold all at once, all in the same moment.

"Do you have any idea how tight you are?" Malfoy asked, using one hand to brush her hair back, and the other to guide her hips in a steady, rhythmic motion.

She slowly began to move on her own, rocking and rotating as they tugged and kissed and spoke only the fastest, most brazen words to each other. In the back of her mind she had always secretly wondered if he was good in bed — as good as the girls used to say, at least.

He is, she shouted at herself in her head. Why in Merlin's name does he have to be good at every — fucking — thing?

As if to answer her question, Malfoy flipped her over, positioning her leg over his shoulder as he thrust into her from on top. Hermione gasped, tilting her head back in pleasure. Something about the way he moved, suggested to her that he had imagined this before. Merlin knew the thought had crossed her mind before.

Rubbing up against everywhere that felt good, it wasn't long before he had made her come again, this time with his length fully inside her, and this time loudly.

"M-Merlin — I — I'm c-c — !" Hermione choked on the words, twitching everywhere at once in the best possible way, waves of ecstasy filling her body as Malfoy fucked her as hard and deep as she'd always wanted him to.

He soon followed, riding it out with her, their chests pressed together, and their arms and legs all tangled up, interlocked as they clutched onto those final moments, holding on until the very end.

One Month Later

"So, you're telling me — that you — and him —"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"It's been a month now. I know this is a little surprising, but —"

"No, no. Getting a Merlin card with your chocolate frog — that's surprising," Harry interjected.

Hermione frowned, lightly, motioning for Tom to serve them another round of drinks. "It's really not that big of a deal," she asserted, her gaze shifting to the door as Neville entered the pub.

Glancing over at his friends, he quickly made his way towards them, unwrapping his scarf as he settled into their usual booth. "Have you told him?" he blurted out. "Please say you have. I can't keep it in any longer."

Harry bounced a look between them, his face screwing. "Neville knows?"

"Oh, please. I just about orchestrated it," he snorted.

"It's a long story …" Hermione explained, glancing to the door every few seconds.

Neville cleared his throat. "What she means to say is, she posed nude for an art class that Malfoy has just so happened to be part of, creating a brief, intensely awkward flirtation between the both of them which they later resolved on that couch of hers with that massive wine stain it on — you know the one — all whilst I was fast asleep a few rooms down."

Harry's mouth fell agape.

"For Merlin's sake," Hermione groaned.

"What? If you ask me, it's one of the greatest love stories of our time," Neville added, his mouth twitching with laughter.

Before she could so much as utter a word in response, someone else had entered the pub, his pale blond hair snaking its way into her periphery.

"Speaking of …" Neville waved him over. "Malfoy! Over here!"

Harry glanced back, equal parts shock and bewilderment tugging at his facial features as Malfoy wove his way through the tables, meeting them in front of the bar.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologized, kissing the top of Hermione's head. "Work went well, I take it?"

She nodded, smiling to him before glancing at Harry. "I'm sure you remember Malfoy."

The Chosen One simply sat there, wordless for a few long moments. "Er — yes," he finally said, hesitantly shaking hands with his former rival. "So, this is real, then? The two of you?"

"Quite real," Hermione said, exchanging a quick, knowing smile with her boyfriend. "When did you say Ginny would arrive?"

"After Quidditch practice," Harry had managed to say, just staring at the two of them as though he still couldn't believe it. "The Holyhead Harpies have made the finals, so she's been practicing nearly every …" His face screwed. "Sorry, I have to ask. You're actually together?"

Hermione chuckled. "Yes, we actually are. What do we have to do to convince you? Have a kiss right here in the middle of the pub?"

Harry shuddered at the thought. "Please, no. I've just had dinner."

The others laughed, and the drinks slowly started coming in after, diffusing some of the awkward tension in the air as the conversation shifted to a different topic. First Quidditch, then music, then the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, the first to last more than a single term, in years.

Ginny eventually joined. Unlike Harry, she had taken the news quite well, tugging Hermione into a separate corner of the pub as the boys had their banter.

"Do you have it? Do you have it? Please tell me you have it," the younger witch blurted.

Cheeks aglow, Hermione opened her bag, retrieving the drawing to show to Ginny. "Here. Don't go waving it around now."

"I won't!" Ginny said to her excitedly, her eyes widening as she had a look. "Merlin's tits, this is really good! Also, hats off to that body. Fucking hell. It's no wonder Malfoy just had to have you right then and there!"

"Ginny!"

"Sorry, sorry," she chuckled, handing it back. "Really, though. I couldn't be happier for you. He's come a long way from the ferret we used to know."

On instinct, Hermione glanced over at him from across the pub. "He really has," she uttered, that familiar rush of emotion lapping her chest as he met her gaze, smiling back at her.

Truthfully she had no idea if it would last, but she was more than ready to find out.

The End