A/N: Hello all! I'm bringing you the drabble for the winning fanart from 10/13/17, over on the Strictly Dramione group on Facebook. The fanart that inspired this piece is entitled Her Ghost by scarletlady over on DeviantArt. Go and give her a look up. I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the art, nor Harry Potter.
Her Ghost
"I still can't believe you slept with him," Ginny said while lying across Hermione's bed in Grimmauld Place. It was their nightly routine while waiting for the boys to return home from auror duties at the Ministry.
Hermione was in her bathroom, readying herself for bed, mouth currently full of foamy toothpaste as she brushed her teeth. She rolled her brandy colored eyes and spit into the sink. "Gin, seriously? It was a month ago. Can you drop it already?" Truth was, Hermione wished that she could just forget the whole event.
It was haunting her, like a ghost. Worse than the ghosts of Hogwarts. The memory of that night followed her around constantly and it starred in her dreams. So much so, that she was on the verge of taking just a drop of Dreamless Sleep potion to get just a moment of sanity in her repose.
Hermione heard Ginny scoff in the other room. "But Hermione, I'm married to one man for the rest of my life. That's one penis that I'm going to be seeing for the rest of my life. I'm living vicariously here!" The periwinkle toothbrush went into the holder and Hermione rinsed her mouth with the cup, cleaning the sink in the process. She just couldn't make Ginny drop it.
"Gin, for the millionth time. We were both drunk. I don't really remember it at all. It was at the after party for the Quidditch World Cup, Bulgaria had won. You know all of this. If you're wanting measurements and vein placements or how saggy his bollocks were, you're out of luck. It's all a blur." Lies, all of it, lies. But Hermione had gotten good at lying lately. She twisted her unruly mass of curls up into a messy bun atop her head and walked into her bedroom. "Now, if you don't mind, go and wait for your husband in your bed. I think I'm going to go to bed early."
The fiery-haired vixen gave her a pout but did as she had been asked and left without a fuss. Hermione sighed when she'd been left to her own chaotic mind and slid between her sheets.
It had been a hectic time in the Wizengamot lately, case after case of petty lawbreakers that should know better.
Hermione lifted the novel from the bedside table and opened it. One of her all-time favorites, East of Eden, by John Steinbeck. After losing herself in the words for a while, her eyes began to droop and she drifted into what she hoped was a restful sleep. But of course, the fates wouldn't grant her that.
~~~~~~Dreamland~~~~~~
Hermione wanted to go home. She hated Quidditch and Ron knew that, but he'd had the extra ticket and no one to go with. Justin hadn't been able to get the time off at work, where Hermione had already been free.
It had been just like before their fourth year, Bulgaria versus Ireland. Only this time, Bulgaria had been ahead when Krum had caught the snitch. Which had been floating right in front of Hermione's nose? He'd then invited her and Ron to the team after party.
Ron had been so pissed that he'd passed out in a corner somewhere, slumped together with one of the girl chasers. They'd been talking about strategies and plays all night. Hermione had been playing catch up with her ex-boyfriend until he'd gone to speak to his manager a few minutes before.
Hermione stood, nursing her firewhiskey, only feeling a slight buzz from the alcohol, knowing she'd need to be the sober one to get both her and Ronald home. An unexpected voice in her ear took her by surprise, "Well, well, Hermione Granger at a Quidditch match of her own volition."
The wizard that voice belonged to was one that she tried to avoid. Which was made all the easier, now that he lived in Bulgaria. "Ron had an extra ticket." Hermione turned and tilted her head up to lock eyes with the velvety smooth voice. He smelled of clean air, sweat, and leather.
"You sure you just didn't want to come and see Bulgaria's star seeker again after all these years? I saw the two of you getting quite cozy." The haughty sneer in that voice made Hermione roll her eyes.
Hermione snorted softly, her own sneer making an appearance, "You're one to talk. Aren't you the star Keeper now?"
A smirk formed on those lips, and Hermione realized her mistake too late, "I am a damn good keeper, would you like to find out?" She downed her firewhiskey and signaled for another.
It was somewhere around ten firewhiskey's later, familiar and nostalgic bickering, and a change in body language that Hermione found herself in trouble. She wasn't drunk, by any means, but she was extremely turned on by the wizard in front of her.
"C'mon, Granger. I know you have a thing for Quidditch players. I saw the way you were eyeing every one of us tonight. You weren't interested in the plays. You were watching the way our bodies moved. And I know you've always had a thing for me, ever since Hogwarts." Draco leaned in, those grey eyes finally breaking from hers as his breath brushed past her ear. "Give in, Granger. Say yes."
She'd said yes.
Clothes had been shed, limbs entangled and Hermione had had the best sex of her life. Draco had her held aloft in his arms, legs spread wide, back against a wall in the small office. Her hands were threaded through his hair, nails digging into his scalp as she screamed his name. She was just on the verge of an orgasm, she could feel her body coiling for a mind-blowing release.
~~~~~~Back to Reality~~~~~~
Hermione jerked awake and sat straight up in bed, a sheen of sweat covering her body. Her shirt was clinging to her chest as she panted heavily, she could feel her lower lips still pulsing with the denied orgasm.
She was trying to figure out what woke her when a movement caught her eye over by the windows. Hermione could tell who it was. "What are you doing here?" She hadn't even reached for her wand, she was that sure of who was in her room with her.
"I was visiting the Ministry and ran into Potter. Convinced him to let me come here so I could talk to you." Draco answered quietly.
"About?" Hermione replied, her mouth dry.
Draco began pacing in her room, a dark shadow before her eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you, Granger. It's like it's an obsession. I don't know about you, but I haven't been sleeping much for dreams about you. Our night together. Salazar, Hermione. What the fuck did you do to me?"
Hermione laughed quietly, moving to run her hand through her hair, but encountering her bun, tightening its band instead. "I haven't been sleeping much either for the same reason." She slid from the bed and walked over to Draco, tilting her head up to look at him in the dark. "So I could ask you the same question. But I also have another question for you."
A single candle was lit by Hermione's silent command, and she could see Draco's quizzical look as he waited for her to continue. When she didn't, he asked, "And what is this question?"
A smirk to rival his pulled up one side of her mouth as she pressed her body to his, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, "What are you going to do about it?"