Chapter Text
Only a few hours after they had entered the research library, the blinking sconces and gentle bell chimes alerted the drowsy trio that Madame Pince would be retiring for the evening. Draco hadn't realized that he had nodded off himself until the soft sounds startled him from sleep. The three of them blinked owlishly at each other as images of what had transpired earlier in the evening came slamming back into focus.
Neville reacted first, blushing fiercely as he scrambled to unsteady legs. His hand flew to his wand and with a wordless swish had done up his suspenders and righted his bowtie. He wasn't sure if his face could get any hotter, but to be on the safe side, Neville did not look up at either Draco or Hermione. He left them abruptly without a word, his leather boots beating out a quick tempo as he fled.
She looked to Draco, every emotion laid bare to him, acute distress and confusion marring her features. Whatever embarrassment or shame she might have felt about their evening seemed instantly eclipsed by concern for Neville and the discomfort that clearly had chased him from the room. Without direction, that concern and worry that came to her as innately as breathing was likely to escalate to panic. Draco tucked a curl behind her ear and took her chin in hand to turn her face towards his.
"We are going to go back to my room now, pet," he said firmly, spelling on her clothes and walking with his arm around her all the way back to his quarters.
"Did we—I mean, did I do something wrong?" she whispered once they were tucked into his bed for the night.
"Oh, love, no. Don't think that. You were so lovely," he reassured before asking, "Did you enjoy it?"
"Well, yes. But, Neville—"
"—is going to be just fine. I think he just got a little overwhelmed, but we won't know until we ask."
"Oh, but his face, when he left. I don't want him to feel awkward. Fuck, what if he tells Harry or someone else?"
Draco hadn't made up his mind yet about how best to navigate the situation. He thought it unlikely that Neville would rush off to tell one of their mutual friends as it would only lead to uncomfortable questions as to his involvement in the evening. All the more reason to bring him into the fold. Mutually-assured destruction. The last thing that Draco wanted was to let this new development upset the rather enjoyable dynamic that he had with Hermione already—maintaining that would be a priority.
However, he couldn't deny his sudden attraction to Neville either. He hadn't been with a wizard since France, and those were almost exclusively casual encounters rather than with wizards that he knew. Perhaps he had never given Neville more than a passing thought because there had been not even the smallest hint that Neville was interested in anything that didn't live in a pot. Draco had expected to feel jealous that Hermione showed desire for another wizard, but oddly that realization just made him want her more. He felt possessive, but it was as if Neville's presence enhanced his sense of ownership. He'd have to unpack that at some point, but first needed to know what she was thinking about it all before he got too ahead of himself.
"What happened tonight—the three of us together—is that something that excites you, Hermione?" he asked, his mouth wrapping around each rarely-uttered syllable of her name in a way that made her toes curl.
His face split into a knowing grin before she could reply because the sharp inhale and instant dilation of her eyes—her obvious little tells—spoke volumes. She turned her face into his neck to hide from his smirk. He delighted in the fact that Neville was similarly transparent, hearts ever on their sleeves. Not nearly enough Slytherin in either them, he chuckled to himself.
"If I say yes, does that make me a slag?" she mumbled into his collarbone.
"Yes, but you are my slag, sweetling," he replied with affection, making her roll her eyes even as she tugged him closer.
"How about you? Did, did you like it? Do you think you might want to maybe—again?" she asked cautiously.
"Oh, I enjoyed it very much. I liked having someone else see how utterly delicious you are and how much you please me. You and I—we affected him, aroused him. It's addicting, that power. And while he is inexperienced, I suspect that he has certain desires that would be well-aligned with our own. He is just so ripe for corruption," Draco kept his voice calm, trying not to react to the way that Hermione had unconsciously begun rutting her hips against him as he spoke.
She stilled suddenly and Draco felt her stiffen in his arms. She chewed on her lower lip for a moment, gathering her thoughts before she finally asked, "Draco, how old were you? You know—the first time?"
"Oh, young. Probably, too young. A witch from Beauxbatons under the Quidditch stands in Fourth Year."
"What!? Here at school? During the Triwizard Tournament?! You were only—"
"I know, I know. I was giving her a tour and I was most thorough," he said with a bit of smugness, "And don't look so scandalized. As I recall there was plenty of speculation about you and a certain Bulgarian that year."
"Speculation which was not remotely true!" she said with some indignation.
"Well, things sort of went to hell right after, as you may recall, so I didn't really do anything again until I was in France," he said, "How about you? What lucky wizard got your V-card? And please tell me it wasn't Weasley."
"Not a wizard actually—a Muggle. My roommate's older brother after I moved down to Australia. I didn't tell him it was my first time, and then we were both a little high anyway." Draco gave her a searching look, his brow furrowed, before she continued, "High as in Muggle dru—"
"I know what 'being high' means. Merlin, I have a Potions Mastery, witch. I'm just wondering why your first time wasn't with Potter or one of the numerous Weasley options. Girls seem to make a rather big deal of it usually."
"Because I just wanted to get it out of the way—Do something normal like any other teenager. I'd been making a big deal about everything since I was eleven. When I should have been snogging boys, I was trying to keep them alive instead," she said somewhat irritably, "In any case, I just—I've never slept with a virgin to my knowledge and I would rather not ruin one of my oldest friends for life."
"Hey, let's not jump to life-ruining just yet. I don't think that either of us is interested in that. I know I pushed you really hard in the beginning, but I am always, always thinking about what would contribute to good experiences for you and for us. You know that right?" Draco said, bringing her chin up with his knuckles until she met his eyes.
"I think you were really good with him tonight. It was—sweet."
"Sweet? You will ruin my reputation, Granger," he said with a slight sneer.
"Draco? Can it—I mean, assuming that he wants to—with me, um, us—how will we do it?" she struggled to find the right words, "It's just, I didn't put a lot of thought into my first time, and that probably sounds stupid because virginity is just a silly patriarchal construct. And it's not like I think that the first time has to be some soul magic ritual or with someone you love or—"
"Oh, little one, come here," he said softly, pulling her on top of him so that he could wrap both arms around her and kiss her between sentences, "Gods, you're such a tender thing—my sweet girl—it's not on you to make things perfect. I am going to do what I can to make the experience exciting if that's what we all want. We just all need to talk about it first."
"I'm never going to be able to sleep tonight. I'm so worried about how he ran off like that. Do you think that we should have followed him?"
Draco gave a put-upon sigh before kissing her forehead and rolling her off of him. He reached for his wand to summon a bit of parchment to pen a short note which said N, H is worried that we scarred you for life. Chat tomorrow. D. After folding it up and sending it out the window with a swish and flick of his wand, he arched a brow at her. Satisfied? She crossed her wrists behind his head to pull him into a deep kiss in response.
"Now that that's done, I've been waiting all night to have you to myself," he growled as he climbed between her parted thighs, satisfied by the whimper his words pulled from her. He pushed against the backs of her thighs so he could peel her shorts off her hips, letting the silky material flutter to the floor while she removed her camisole. Already scenting her arousal, he dragged a single digit lightly over her sensitive labia, carefully avoiding the aching pearl at their apex. Hermione tried not to buck into his hand but her hips seemed to have a mind of their own, chasing his exploring fingers and the delicious friction that they promised.
"Neville could barely keep his eyes off this pretty pussy. I'm sure he would love to touch—and taste—everything that he only got to see tonight. Hug your knees to your chest, darling," Draco said, and she immediately complied to further expose herself to his attentions.
"That's my good girl," he crooned, slipping two fingers into her sopping wet center, "We'll have to practice to make sure that big cock of his fits into this tight little hole. I can't wait to see you stretched around him, love." He set an easy pace, matching the squirm of her hips and savoring each mewl and moan that fell from her mouth.
"Please, Daddy—mmmm, I need you, fuck—" she pleaded between shallow pants.
Her face flushed red as she continued to hold herself open for him, his fingers scissoring inside her a few times before he added a third into her center that was so dripping wet for him that the digit slid in as smooth as a sigh. After spending a few minutes stretching her, he withdrew his fingers with an audible slurp that made her both gush and cringe in equal measure. He pressed a well-lubricated finger to her backdoor, barely giving her time to accommodate before a second joined the first. He let her set the cadence, fucking her own arse on his slick fingers. He caught her eyes peeking out over her knees and gave her a smirk that said I see you.
"You know, it was kind of mean of me to share Neville's little breakfast fantasy with you. How will I ever make it up to him, I wonder?"
Hermione was addled by her arousal, desperation for release coiled itself like a spring within her waiting to burst forth. She was slow to register his last comment until his storm cloud eyes locked with hers to silently demand Show me. Caught off guard, she scrambled to fight off his mental invasion, instinctively hiding from him and embarrassed by the wantonness of her thoughts. It was a game that they had played before. One that she always lost.
Images and words bubbled to the surface, her defenses against him weakened by her overstimulation. She could either protect her private thoughts or chase her release and no one knew better than Draco how that choice would play out for her. He felt her rock her hips harder and he matched her thrust for thrust with long fingers buried in her tight back passage until he pressed a single open-mouthed kiss to her mound that spurred her even faster towards the point of no return.
"Such filthy ideas, my little girl. I going to love sharing them with our new friend. His thick cock is going to get so hard when I show him the dirty things that you think about when Daddy has his fingers in your naughty bottom. That's right. I'm sure Neville will love to hear his Gryffindor princess beg to be stuffed full," he taunted as he continued his relentless anal assault with his fingers while prying into her most licentious thoughts, "Mmm, good one, Granger. Should I tell him that? That you want him stretching your cunt while I fuck his arse? That sounds like something that we can do eventually. Daddy can make all your filthy dreams come true."
Tears of shame and frustration spilled over her temples and into her frizzing hair. She had become accustomed to his threats of exposure—it had become a major theme in the degradation play that they enjoyed. But this was different. This wasn't just pretend. He was going to show Neville—sweet, gentle Neville—and let someone else inside their sheltered bubble. And, Merlin help her, she wanted it so badly that her tongue had lolled out of her mouth with a litany of senseless pleas. He watched her begin to unravel, enchanted by the mess she was making. He pulled his fingers from her, whispering a quick cleansing charm over them as he shoved down his pants.
She lifted her head to protest the sudden emptiness, and barely had time to process the change in sensation before he buried his entire length into her in a single movement that bottomed out against her cervix and drove an inhuman shriek from her throat. She wrapped her legs around his hips so that he stayed deep to drive her over the edge with low amplitude thrusts against her sensitive clit. The powerful contractions of her orgasm soon had Draco falling right after her, announcing his release with moan against her throat.
Fully wrapped within the confines of her exhausted limbs, he let his full weight settle on her. Safe, he sighed to himself, letting her contentment wash over him. He planted a few kisses over her neck and chest before he rearranged them into their preferred sleeping position with one of his arms tucked behind his head and the other wrapped around her. Draco wandlessly dimmed the sconces and was just about to whisper goodnight when a bright blue glow crept under the door, bathing the room in a brilliant light as it approached in the form of a branching plant heavy with clusters of globe-shaped flower heads.
Hermione pulled the sheet to her chest as she sat up to take a closer look at the unfamiliar Patronus. When the ghostly shape finally reached the bed, she reached her fingers towards one of the flowers. The fuzzy bloom appeared to shy away from her hand for a moment before they both could hear Neville's voice clearly say, "Okay. Breakfast. Greenhouse Eight." The charm melted away into a fine mist before disappearing entirely, leaving Hermione and Draco in the dark.
"That's odd. His Patronus must have changed—it wasn't corporal before. I didn't recognize it."
"Mimosa pudica," Draco said matter-of-factly, "It reacts like that when touched—closes up in the dark."
Draco thought he heard her huff swot under her breath before she whispered, "I lost mine. After the war."
"How do—What do you mean?"
"My Patronus. It used to be an otter. I always had trouble with it. Then during Seventh Year, I couldn't—I stopped being able to produce one."
"Have you tried since you've been back here?" he asked.
"Have you?" she countered, instantly regretting the edge in her voice.
He pressed a kiss to her neck instead of replying to her question. Instead he smiled in the dark and whispered, "Maybe we can practice together, little one. You give me lots of happy memories."