Warning: Adult context. Descriptive sexual theme.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Library

by Ydream08

Summary: She wanted to read the book. It was unfortunate that it was in the confines of the Malfoy Manor. Or fortunate, now that she thought about it.

She was thirsty. Her stomach convulsed too, but it was more important to wet her lips than to feed herself. Swallowing her spit did little good, so with that last resort crossed out, Hermione had to crack open her eyes.

The place felt strange. It wasn't her bedroom- she could tell that much- but as she dangled her legs out of the bed, and cursed the dizziness of her sudden movement, she cared not an ounce that it wasn't her room that she had awoken to.

She did care, however, that she was stark naked.

"Shite." Hermione looked around for something to wear and found a button-up shirt near the bed. All too eager to get herself covered up, she didn't search further for her own garments.

Glancing above her shoulder and noticing the white-blond hair she had loved tugging last night, Hermione felt no qualms about leaving Malfoy to his own devices to get a glass of water.

That's what she set out to do, but realizing that she didn't know the Manor enough to wander around -Draco had Apparated them directly to his room last night- Hermione changed plans to finding a fireplace to Floo home. The wards weren't letting her Disapparate, unfortunately.

Slamming the third wrong door, Hermione let out a frustrated sigh while cursing the blond bastard for tricking her for another night.

They had shagged three weeks ago. When they had come across each other at Hogwarts, Malfoy had charmed her, irritated her while he was at it, and he had finally drawn her to a broom closet.

Hermione had been visiting Harry, who was currently the DADA professor there. And apparently Malfoy had come by to check on Teddy Lupin. It was his first year in Hogwarts. The cousins had reconciled long ago.

Hermione hadn't seen the harm to the quick release as it had been awhile, and pulling at Malfoy's hair and scratching his back with her newly manicured nails gave her pleasure incomparable to anyone she had slept with. She loved playing rough more often than not, and there were only a handful of people eager for that.

That wasn't the reason she and Ron hadn't worked out. Or Oliver Wood for that matter.

It was either breaking up or murdering her long time best friend. Their arguments had found the height of Mount Everest when they took a shot at being a couple, so eventually Ron had chosen friendship instead. Hermione had been courteous to let him choose, because her wand hand twitching meant she was opting for the complete eradication of the problem. Hurt feelings did easily morph into anger, what else could she do?

And for Oliver… Well, he was the next long relationship she had had, but they hadn't worked either. It wasn't because there was much fighting. It was because he was away with Quidditch and she with work, and the union sex eventually didn't cut for a steady relationship. They tried for two years, though.

Honestly speaking, Hermione saw no future whatsoever with Malfoy based on her previous experiences. And she hadn't sought him out after their heated broom-closet session.

It was him who asked a few hours away with her. They had come across at Flourish and Blotts yesterday.

Putting away their shared night together, Hermione scrunched her nose at the small library she found herself in. If he has a library like this at home, why visit a bookshop?

Hermione knew that some readers were different. She winced at the thought of it, but leaving a book unfinished or buying a new one when there were books waiting for her?

To give Malfoy credit, this library probably existed prior to his birth, so she couldn't exactly blame for his lack of reading… and of course, even with such a large library, Hermione could never picture herself without buying a new book for herself. After finishing reading her purchased books, mind you.

Hermione, being herself, found her legs advancing on their own. The thirst forgotten, her finger traced the spines of the numerous books. She took in every title, her eyes glinting at curious books that she could convince Malfoy to lend to her. One round more sex wouldn't hurt.

Humming to herself, Hermione perused the books for awhile. She was mentally checking those which she would take as light reading or research. And there were those she doubted no amount of convincing would aid her to get them an inch away from the room.

It was the book Pureblood Directory, written by Cantankerus Nott, that ironically had her finger cut. Sharp papers, they were. Hermione winced. Glaring at the book even after she put it back in its place, she sucked her thumb and eventually went on to another book.

Thinking back to it now, she could realize that it was irresponsible of her to dismiss her then-insignificant wound. Superficial it could be, but it still bled. And some tomes in that library, as if Malfoys were notorious for anything else, were dark. To touch those tomes with a bleeding wound? An idiot, that's what she was.

So she did exactly that! Offered her blood -albeit unknowingly- to the the next tome that caught her interest.

Truths of Time Travel: Benefits and Qualifications was indeed a title that hooked Hermione. Flipping through the pages long after her blood was soaked by the book's leather-binding, she felt her breath catch.

It was not just a book about the benefits of time-travel, as the title suggested. It was luck, perhaps, that Hermione landed on a page that gave instructions on how to construct the magical device. Given, the runes and spells to be applied weren't elaborated, but Hermione could bet this was more than the Unspeakables had with them after the destruction of the Department of Mysteries.

So, Hermione didn't mind her grumbling stomach, or her chapped lips. She was just happy that she had came across a bathroom on her way to this library and somewhat refreshed herself- oh, she would need at least three hours to get this book done and she wouldn't set a foot out of the Manor before she was finished (even if Draco kicked her out, she'd find a way in). Yes, Hermione didn't mind anything else- not the slight buzz emanating from the book, the heat that radiated, or the slight breeze that was left in the brink of a magic wave surging through the room. They were secondary changes in comparison to her calculating brain and eager magic.

Hermione closed the book, her thumb in place to mark where she was, and opted to go look for Draco. Oh, she would beg to have this book. Surely there were even more in his library! Beg, she would do. Until he was convinced that she could stay longer. To be subtle about her reasons was not exactly her forte, but Hermione believed she could distract him indeed.

It was pure luck that the head of platinum-blond hair was actually in the small library as well. She spotted him by the armchair, his hair and long legs peeking out from the black furniture. He must have sought her out and made himself comfortable by the armchair while she entertained herself. Malfoy was capable of silent observation unlike Ron. Oliver would not have bothered to check on her, to begin with.

Perhaps Hermione should consider a serious relationship with Draco, afterall.

With an excited but soft shriek leaving her lips, she walked to him with a skip to her steps. Seating her bum on the right arm of the furniture, she quickly maneuvered her legs in his lap, both of them stretching across the armchair. Her left hand which was free of the book circled around his shoulders to caress his opposite cheek, and Hermione nuzzled to the crook of his neck right away. Her hot breath and giggles didn't win a response from him, but her kiss did. Oh she kissed, nibled, licked, until she made it to his ear.

"And to think that you never mentioned me this library, Malfoy? But I'm forgiving, you know. If you lend me a few books, that is. I know my manners and imagine how much I can thank you for it."

Feeling that the book was more of a burden now, Hermione dropped it in her lap in favour of guiding his face towards her. Her hands were already woven in his platinum-blond hair, and she was eager to have his lips on hers.

She barely registered anything else as her half-lidded eyes closed upon the touch of their lips. His lips were soft, and warm, but it hurt her dry lips nevertheless. Also the beard and moustache scratched as he kissed her. Malfoy hadn't been unkempt, if she remembered correctly, but Hermione didn't ponder longer on the situation as his tongue peeked out and moistened her lips.

"I can stay and read, if I can't leave with the book," Hermione breathed out before she joined to his play, opening her mouth and welcoming him. "Your choice."

After that she hushed, getting absorbed by the kiss. It was different. Hermione could pinpoint exactly why the longer they kissed. The longer her hands wandered.

It was his hair, first of all. As her fingers tangled in them, the soft curls feeling voluminous in her grip, she felt odd as she remembered Malfoy having short hair. His haircut had always been shorter than his father, Lucius, but after Azkaban he had cut it slightly shorter than third year, in fact.

Then, came his unfamiliar arms. They were thick, muscles rippling under the shirt Hermione currently held on to as she balanced herself to not fall down during the kiss.

Draco was lean in stature, a true Seeker in look much like Harry.

And finally the hands. The one that gripped at her waist was bigger and stronger than how she remembered them. With how Draco had explored her body yesterday night, she was damn sure that his thin fingers and delicate hands -comparative to his male peers, not hers- were more spider-like.

The calloused palm that traveled up her bare thigh sealed the deal for her and Hermione gasped, breaking the kiss immediately.

Her eyes searched and it baffled her that she found what she was looking for but did not at the same time. Platinum-hair, sure. The same greechian nose, strong jaw and paleness to the skin. A similar if not identical bone structure to the face, overall. The eyes were different, however. Not the grey ones that had pierced through her back at Hogwarts. It was a bright green, much lighter than Harry's in colour. Also he reminded her more of Lucius, than Draco. It made her recall Malfoy Sr. from fifteen years or so ago, when they had run into him in Flourish and Blotts. So if she had to guess, she'd say the man was in his early forties.

If not the wavy hair curling at his nape, she could have mistaken him for Lucius for sure. That, if she hadn't known the man to be locked up in Azkaban.

He was not Draco, that's undisputable, though.

"Y-you?"

Hermione held her breath. Oh, she could come up with an explanation if she could just have a moment to collect herself- but no, the man's hand moved up and down her thigh, and each time, he got closer to her crotch. An inch at a time. It was a given that her mind was occupied with his hand dangering around her inner thigh, and to rule out that distraction, she acted to grab his wrist.

He stopped his hand at the same time, his fingers powerfully dipping at her thigh. The closest that he had gotten. Enough that if he displaced his thumb the slightest he would touch her pubic hair. A bit closer would be her hotness.

"What, love? Don't wish to continue anymore?" His smirk disappeared to her shoulder as he breathed her in and found the junction of her shoulder to neck. He kissed there, licked, then, oh, he sucked!

Hermione couldn't help the whimper and soon she was panting. Her hands were both clutching at his forearms again, and he was free to roam around with his, whatsoever. Hermione didn't care for a moment, but she hated her breaths coming in short intervals and the tingling in her nether region that indicated that she wished to continue above anything else.

"I-" Hermione was horrified to find herself in affirmative. She wanted answers first! "Wait, that's beside the point!"

The man blew on where he sucked and retreated to lock their gazes together. His hand that had been on her thigh, now that was free, had opted to depart from her skin. He took her book, and Hermione found that he was reading the title. His eyebrow shot upwards and Hermione recognized a glint in his eyes, for what she had no idea.

With the flick of his wrist the book was sent back to its original place in the shelf, and the man reached for her waist, dragging her to properly sit on his lap, straddling him.

"Hey, wait!" Hermione's protest was again ignored when his hands moved down to grab her bare arse, shifting her shirt up in the process. It was perhaps the way he grabbed her, pulling her to the bulge on his trousers, creating a delicious friction, or perhaps it was his lips that found her chest and pressed to her open skin. But she was definitely forgetting why she was worked up. Angry, not needy.

Hermione moaned. Oh, Merlin, she was needy. Even after last night.

"What's your name, witch?" came the man's rumbling voice. When she was a tad late to answer, he pulled her to him, and she collided with his chest with a shriek.

"I should ask you!" Hermione growled this time, resisting to close her thighs, not that she could. The alternative was to rub at his erection. She wouldn't get a release, if she didn't.

"That, you know. Even said it, actually."

Upon the crease of her brows and her questioning glare, he huffed.

"Malfoy," he answered. The posh arrogance not intended to be hidden. "Abraxas Malfoy."

"Oh." So she had been right. Partially.

That was the best answer she was ever going to formulate. Abraxas' hand moved to her breast, and it was easy of him to reach a globe over the few undone buttons of her shirt. Once released he felt her breast first, weighed it, fit it to his palm and rubbed his thumb around the areola afterwards.

Hermione lifted her gaze to meet with his as he rolled her nipple in between his thumb and index fingers.

He pinched. "And you are?"

With a gasp, Hermione's mind came blank. Godric, what was she supposed to do? Her mind was muddle with the current situation. Abraxas Malfoy? Wasn't the man dead?

The man she occupied the lap of was definitely very much alive, but Hermione wrecked her brain for an answer to how this phenomena came to be. Surely, there had to be an explanation.

All reason left her, however, when she felt a wetness on her nipple. A lick. The cold air engulfed it afterwards and erected the pebble furthermore, but it was replaced with Abraxas' hot breath immediately. He sucked and pulled. Scraped her nipple with his teeth and not long after she was moaning to his ministration. "Oh, yeah, that… that feels… right… like that."

His other hand left her arse and came to free the covered breast. The few buttons that were left gave away as her shirt ripped open. Abraxas gave a quick squeeze to her unattended breast, but instead of focusing on it, he pulled her shirt down her shoulder midway, and used her immobility to pull her towards him.

He left a soft kiss to her breastbone and lifted his eyes to meet with hers. "Your name, witch. I don't like to repeat myself."

Aside from the fabric that only clung to her forearms, Hermione was naked in the man's lap, straddling him and already having kissed him for some time now. Her wetness was evident on his trousers and the desire that scorched her belly minded the circumstances the least.

If she wanted to fuck Abraxas Malfoy, that she would do. Then, she would get her book back and curl in this very armchair to read it. Oh, that was a plan.

Hermione dipped her head and captured his lips. As their tongues moved in an angry battle, Hermione found to enjoy herself. She wiggled in his hold a bit too much, and the very much desired position of hers, which happened to pressure his groin, elicited a groan from the man. She felt the vibrations from his chest and pulled away to smile.

"But I wanted you to repeat my name. All night." Hermione snuggled to him and whispered, "Again and again." She took his earlobe between her teeth and pulled. Then she kissed his skin closest to it.

"Merlin's beard!" Abraxas exclaimed but before he could grab her for another kiss on the lips, she leaned away with the support of her hands on his shoulders.

Her hands finding the buttons of his vest was explanatory enough. However, Abraxas gently extracted her hands from him instead of helping along. He kissed her knuckles before dropping her hands, and only then did he get to removing his clothes.

Watching him unbuttoning his vest and shirt left Hermione's hands free, and it was only expectable that she found his buckle.

"You'll be the death of me, you eager little minx," he exhaled just the moment she managed to free him from his confines.

Her hand circled around his shaft and after a tug, her hand moved up and down. "Hermione. I'm Hermione Granger."

His brows were quick to crease and his lips pursed with… annoyance, if she read correctly? But before she could contemplate further, she felt him shift while he acted to shed his outfit. Thanks to him she was off balance, nearly falling backwards.

He grabbed at her, his bare arms holding on to her chest and she was immediately pulled flush against him. She collected her own arms around his neck, and once she was safe, she kissed him thoroughly.

Even with that, his mind was fixated on a particular detail: "A half-blood?"

Hermione kissed him again while her hand searched for his manhood. He must have understood her silence but he wasn't able to comment once she lowered herself all the way down to the hilt. It helped that he thrust his hips upwards for better angle.

Her moan was mixed with his grunt. They were loud, not that she cared.

Malfoy grabbed her hips forcefully and steadied her. Exhaling, his nostrils aflame, it was obvious that he tried to collect himself. If Hermione were to milk him with just penetration, that would be a record. "Don't move, Mudblood. Not yet."

Her body was aflame from their intimacy already, but Hermione felt the heat bounce to her head. Her cheeks and neck scorching, she couldn't ignore the ringing in her ears. Oh, she was fuming.

She clawed him, starting from shoulder and down his chest, she drew blood. How dare he!

Taking advantage of his shock, she moved her hips. Once. Freeing him just enough to sink back down. He hissed at the motion, and she contracted her muscles around for better measure.

Leaning to his ear, she talked over his growls. "Muggleborn, if you must."

She didn't expect to be yanked by her hair. His one hand tangled in her curls, she was brought to meet his lips and this was yet the most forceful he had claimed her mouth.

She clutched at his arms, feeling the need to move, scratch the itch that built in her. They must have thought along the same lines as he encouraged her movement with the hand resting on her hip, meeting her with each thrust of his hips.

His lips had strayed from her own and Hermione marvelled at the sensation as he kissed a line from her jaw, traveling to her neck then finally latching onto her breast once his kisses reached to her nipple.

"Yes, Merlin, yes! Like that- more, more!" Hermione cared little to her moans now. She felt her walls stretching and being filled each time he forced inside, and she missed the fullness once he brought himself out. It was a slow pace first, but with her encouragement and his need, the pace quickened. "Fuck, like that! Godric, yes! Yes, harder."

Malfoy let her breast alone in favor of kissing her again. "Abraxas, witch. Say it."

Trying to claim his lips again failed when she forgot to oblige. He stalled her with a pull of her hair again. He lowered his lips to her collarbone and talked to her skin. "Say it."

He had slowed the pace back and Hermione whined as her nerves crawled down from her near-climax.

"Abraxas, just- fuck me already!"

He chuckled, a sound that annoyed Hermione but turned her on all the same. "That's what I intend to do, Hermione."

They picked up the pace again. Hermione's moans and pants, the mantra of "Abraxas" on her lips, urged him to pleasure her more. His fingers found her clitoris to rub at it, bring her the ecstasy she so desired before he was spent.

It was pure bliss, after that. Hermione climaxed, giving a last strong squeeze around him that proved how perfectly he fit her. She deeply exhaled in content, at the brink of passing out to sleep, but she was jolted awake with lips on her own.

It was a hard kiss, just the touch of both lips but nothing more. "Hermione, love?"

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she came to herself just in time to catch Abraxas reach his own pleasure with the second thrust in. He grunted, spilling his seed and creating a new warmth inside of her that was a whole different sensation on its own.

She moaned contently at his finish and caressed his chest as he rested his head against the back of the armchair, panting and spent.

"That was…" she trailed, uncertainty clear in her voice.

"Good," he exhaled, but as he stared up, not at her, he didn't see her raised brows.

"Good? Seriously?" She was smiling but it wasn't out of humour.

He leveled his gaze with her and that's when something clicked in her mind.

Hermione stared at Abraxas Malfoy, whose wavy platinum-blond hair she had never witnessed in her life-time, his known relatives not once uttering his name out loud. His face so foreign yet familiar in the Malfoy way, but it was one that she doubted many in the society remembered.

An information nibbled at the back of her mind, and Hermione frowned at the echo: "Dragon pox, wasn't it, Draco? He was young, too, your grandfather. My condolences."

Hermione removed her hands from his firm chest and jiggled at his lap to extract herself. She faced no protest when she got to her feet.

Looking for her button-up shirt -it was Draco's, truthfully- she found it on the floor close to the armchair. Aware that she was being watched, all the while an ache of exhaustion and desire formed in her crotch, Hermione dorned the shirt. Seeing that the buttons were out of use, she used a wandless and silent sticking charm.

Abraxas got to his feet, she noticed. He tucked his manhood back in his trousers but didn't act to wear the remaining clothes. He looked at her instead.

"You are dead," Hermione stated. It was probably that she was fantasizing in her sleep, but this whole thing felt too real to be a simple dream.

"Not right now." His calm tone was a contrast to his hard face. He looked as though he was at the verge of shouting at her. "I must be, in your time."

"Oh, Merlin." She didn't want to think about what that meant. But even as he had said it, she registered the big coincidence of Hermione stumbling across a time-travel book and a live Abraxas Malfoy mentioning time. "You can't be serious. All the time-turners shattered in front of my eyes!"

There was a quirk to his eyebrows, and he shrugged. Another flick of his wrist and the same book Hermione had contemplated to snatch away came into his grasp.

"Truth of Time Travel: Benefits and Qualifications," he read the title. "By Alexander N. Maclain."

Hermione stepped towards him, subconsciously thinking that she wanted a better look at the book. "I wanted to read that one!"

Abraxas snorted. Something she would have never expected. "Unique choice. Not many dare to venture into such topics. Time-travel? Well, the greatest wizards avoid the subject, and for good reasons. Fool's errand, some say."

Hermione's cheeks heated at the remark, but she tried her hardest not to be offended as someone who had already used a time-turner. "I haven't traveled in time, though. Not with that book, I'm sure. I know what time-travel feels like."

"Because it is not. A time-turner, that is." Abraxas put the book on the armchair that their copulation took place only moments ago. Hermione scrunched her face in distaste, and snatched the book to displace it. "It is a portkey."

At that she whirled around to face Abraxas again. The book forgotten. "What?"

"The author? ANM? It stands for Abraxas Nicholas Malfoy, originally. I didn't wish to have unwanted attention, the main reason for anonymity. And only two copies of it was published, anyway." He shrugged. "The book was meant to be a means for escape. A fail-safe. It is activated by blood sacrifice, and brings the user in the proximity of this-"

He rose his hand to show his signet ring. "I was meant to give the ring to my son."

It was meant to transport the person who activated the portkey to the Malfoy heir? Why, though? If Abraxas were to ever use the book himself, it would only help him get to Lucius, his son. What was the point in that? Wasn't Malfoy Jr. under the same roof as the man?

Hermione eventually cleared her throat, not understanding a technical detail. "There was a ring, the Malfoy signet ring, in my time as well-" -Draco had been wearing it since sixth year, she remembered well- "-but I'm here, instead of there?"

There was a long pause, but the answer came quickly.

"He must have melted -destroyed- it. Lucius. Then ordered himself anew." His exhale was defeated. "We aren't on familial terms, shall I say." Upon her questioning looks, he added, "We have different views on future and what to do with our current standing."

What did that mean? Hermione felt at loss.

"What year is this?"

"1972."

The silence stretched, but this time Hermione's mind went overdrive to make a plan. She had to get back to her own time. Screw the seventies. She wasn't meant to be here.

Having made her mind, Hermione rushed to get her hands on the book. It could be her fail-safe as well. In case she failed to steal a time-turner from the Ministry, that is. The instructions to make a new one could come handy.

Just as she hugged the book to her chest and structured the sentence that would part her ways with Abraxas Malfoy, his arms circled around her torso and he dipped his head to get a thorough kiss.

When he pulled away, there was a smirk mocking her in the most irritating manner. "I don't allow my library books to be taken away, Hermione. What did you proposition, now? Hmm?"

Hermione's eyes widened when she caught the tract of his thoughts. She whispered without thinking: "That I could stay to read them if I couldn't leave?"

"Yes, indeed. That's what you said." Abraxas slowly claimed her lips on his leisure. Again. And all she did was to synch her lips to his, loving the softness and attention. "Then, stay, witch. The small and the greater library will be yours to peruse."

Hello!

My finals are now over, so I'll be focusing on my WIPs but I wanted to get this out of my system. Hope you've liked this short one-shot.

Take care.

Ydream08

28.06.18