AUTHOR'S NOTES

Another collaboration with some truly awesome writers:

Coyg_81 and Cuppatea90.

It truly has been a pleasure to write with you both, and I certainly hope it isn't the last time.

xx smithandbarrowman xx


A birthday surprise for our favourite Irish pixie - LaBelladoneX - who also happens to be one of the most delightfully wonderful people we have the pleasure of being friends with.

A great big across the world hug to our beta, TheOtterAndTheDragon, for picking up our errors, giving us some wonderful advice, and keeping us on track.

And to the amazing Sleepygrimm for once more spoiling us with her talents and giving us more of her brilliant artwork.

smithandbarrowman
Coyg_81
Cuppatea90


"You are cordially invited to the wedding of Lavender Rose Brown and Seamus Devon Finnigan... "

Hermione rolled her eyes. Not only were the bride and groom her two least favourite people, the enchanted invitation was horrendous; gaudy purple parchment, with pink roses that gave off a scent that was less floral and more wet dog. And the luminous green shamrocks that were rotating around the edge had a dizzying effect that made Hermione feel more than a little nauseous.

"Do we have to go?" She tossed the offending parchment onto the table in disgust. "I mean, seriously, what is this? Third marriage for both of them?"

Draco looked up at her, "They're your friends."

"Hardly." She looked back at the invitation, "But, I guess if we go, we can visit Blaise's new pub."

"CDDM?" Draco raised an eyebrow. His best mate had recently purchased a quaint little pub — which housed its own B and B — with the muggle woman he had just married, and the pair refused to tell anyone what the name meant. Draco suspected something sinfully devious since every time anyone mentioned it, the pair would simply look at each other and smirk.

He hated to think.

"I guess it'd be worth going just to have a look. And you always say you don't get to see Blaise as much as you used to." Hermione shrugged and hopped up onto the counter, her legs swinging freely.

He leaned over and kissed her, "To see Blaise, huh? Or is it because you love his new wife?"

"Maybe." She reached across him to snag a piece of the carrot he was currently chopping. "Speaking of new wives..."

Draco pointed at her, "We don't talk about that."

"But the wedding was so sweet." Her lips twitched, "I wonder what their honeymoon was like. Do you think they even left their room?"

Draco groaned. "Hermione."

"Oh, come on," she laughed. "Don't you remember what we were like when we first got together?"

He shook his head. "We were nothing like them. We never did that at work."

It had been nine years since the war had ended, and despite the victory, numerous challenges had arisen. Repairing the damage to the stone walls of the castle had been a huge undertaking. Even with magic it had taken months, and the students who should have taken their exams, instead of fighting a war, were left unable to do so.

The school board came to the decision to relocate the eighth year students to the hidden, magical wing of Trinity College in Dublin, and much to the surprise of all, it had been a resounding success.

The following year, students were offered the opportunity to further their studies in advanced classes, an offer of which more than half took up, and Trinity Wizarding University was established.

Hermione, after falling in love with the non-magical Trinity library, had taken a position with the newly established University Library as Curator of Magical Books and Artifacts. Her permanent move to Dublin had been unexpected, especially to Ron. His ultimatum to her to either stay and marry him, or leave and call it quits hadn't worked out in his favour.

She'd packed up everything she owned, sold her parents house, and made the move to Ireland.

And she had never been happier.

She knew she had found her calling — the stuffy politics of The Ministry that everyone assumed she loved had never held any appeal to her. But seeking out the magical books which had been hidden amongst the almost 7 million volumes in the old library had been like a dream.

Draco had arrived two years later; his potion making skills were second only to Severus, and the school board had sought him out, offering him a substantial sum to relocate.

Awkward would have been the most adequate description of their interactions at first; curt nods, simple hellos, and general avoidance. But as the year progressed, a mutual respect grew, friendship blossomed, and eventually, love bloomed.

But love hadn't only bloomed for them.

It had been a much slower, long drawn out romance, but the Dean and the newly appointed Professor of Advanced Muggle studies finally wed in the month just past.

The pair had, over the course of the year and a half prior to the small ceremony, tried to hide their relations from the other faculty members but had failed, much to Draco's disgust.

He shared an office wall with said Dean and unlike Hogwarts, the walls weren't made of stone.

.

******* *** DMHG *** ******

.

The sound of laughter made Draco look up — a loud, girly giggle that startled him.

He stared at the wall. The laugh was familiar. He'd not ever heard it, however, coming from the office next door.

Were the rumours true?

Sirius Black had narrowly missed the curse which should have killed him during the war, and with that close escape came a new version of the man.

At Harry's prodding, Sirius assisted the eighth years with their Defence Against the Dark Arts exams, and the Board of Governors had been so impressed, they offered him the position of Dean of the University, a position he took up without hesitation. The former Hogwarts misfit quickly became a favourite of everyone on the small campus, none more so than the Muggle woman who had been appointed as Professor of Advanced Muggle studies.

The Ministry had concluded that the Muggle world still wasn't entirely safe from those in the wizarding world who wished them harm. So, along with the new University, they established a more in-depth department to liaise with Muggle governments across the globe, therefore computers and phones and the like were necessary.

The Ministry also came to the realisation that a Muggle professor would be required, since no wizard or witch had ever needed such contraptions and didn't have a clue where to begin with them.

And now, Draco suspected that very Muggle was the one laughing in the office next door, laying claim to the rumours that the Dean and the Professor were more than just colleagues. And the fact that Sirius had been spotted more than once in the small village in which the Professor lived pretty much confirmed that fact.

A muffled voice sounded and the laughter came again.

"You have your frowny face on," Hermione said from the doorway. "What's wrong?"

"Shhhh." Draco hissed, then whispered for her to 'get inside and shut the door.'

She did as he asked, and crossed the room to stand beside him. "Why are we whispering?"

Draco opened his mouth to answer, but another peal of laughter sounded through the wall. Hermione's head snapped towards the sound.

"Is that..?" Hermione's eyes grew wide.

"I think so."

"Oh, Sirius, I'm not sure we can do that here." The voice that spoke was unmistakably Irish, and unlike the rough Dublin accent that made Draco cringe every time Finnigan opened his mouth, this accent was very posh.

"No one will ever know." Sirius' low voice reverberated through the wall and Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh.

"This is not funny, Hermione." Draco reached for his wand.

Hermione grabbed his arm, stopping him. "No, wait."

"You want to hear this?"

"It might not be her."

"Hermione," Draco warned, "We are not listening to them if they're…"

She wiggled her eyebrows at him, "If they're… what?"

He ignored her and cast a silencing charm. She rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist, countering the spell. They were met with silence and Draco let out a relieved breath.

"Maybe they're just kissing?" Hermione suggested when the silence stretched on.

"One can only hope that's—" Draco began but stopped and stared wide-eyed at his wife.

The sound that came from the other side of the wall was unmistakable.

"Did he just..?" Hermione turned back to the wall.

"Oh, yes! Sirius, yes. I've been a bad girl."

"Yes, my little Irish pixie, you have." Sirius' voice was low and rough, and the loud slap of a hand landing on bare skin sounded again.

"Oh, Sirius, that's...oh fuck! More…"

Another loud spanking sound was followed by a deep, guttural growl.

Draco aimed his wand at the wall at the exact moment Hermione flicked her wrist in the air, both dousing the room in silence.

They blinked at each other in disbelief.

"Umm, that was..." Hermione turned back to the wall. "I thought the rumours were fictitious."

"Clearly not." Draco grimaced, "And I have a meeting with him in an hour, how am I supposed to look him in the eye?"

"Oh, come on," Hermione draped her arm around Draco's shoulders, "It's not that bad. He won't know that you heard anything." She paused, struggling to keep her face straight, "But… tell him you need pixie wings for a potion. Preferably Irish ones."

He glared at her, "Are you fucking serious right now?"

"No," Hermione threw her head back and howled with laughter, "But she is."

Draco groaned and leaned his head in his hands, "I wonder if the basement office is still available."

The permanent Silencing charm in Draco's office had held solid ever since, and for the last year and a half had become his saving grace.

.

******* *** DMHG *** *******

.

Hermione laughed at the look of disgust on her husbands face. "Not your style? Office sex?"

"No."

"Passenger seat of a car sex?"

Draco smirked, "You were entirely responsible for that adventure."

She twisted her lips, hesitating. "Sex with two women at the same time?"

He made a choking sound. "Excuse me?"

She snatched another slice of carrot and then grinned, "Two women at once, have you?"

Draco put the knife down, lest he slice off his fingers, and turned to face her. "Where is that coming from?"

She shrugged, "Just curious."

He shot her a look that said he didn't believe her for a minute, and a tiny muscle in her jaw twitched. "We've been together for five years, married for three of those, and you've never once asked me this. So why are you asking me now?"

She chewed the piece of carrot slowly, looking at him like he was deliberately avoiding her question.

"Have you ever been with two women at the same time?" she asked again.

"Why are you asking me?" He crossed his arms over his chest, stubbornly refusing to answer until she told him why she wanted to know.

She pursed her lips and stared back at him, equally as stubborn, and the standoff began, neither of them wanting to give an inch.

Draco shrugged, turning back to the counter and picking up the knife. Her eyes were on him, but he didn't care. He wouldn't divulge anything until he knew why she was suddenly interested in his sexual past when she'd not once enquired previously.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the sound of the knife cutting through vegetables, until at last, she huffed out a breath.

"Last weekend when I was with the girls they were talking about it," she finally told him. "Ginny said she hasn't, but Daphne said she and Theo had had a… um… third one time, but decided it wasn't for them. And Pansy. Well, she's Pansy." She paused, nervously running her thumb along the side-seam of her jeans. "I haven't, and I was curious if you had."

Draco put the knife down once more and turned back to her. It still astounded him what women talked about. And he thought it would have been Ginny convincing Potter to… indulge in a threesome, not Daphne with Theo.

And Pansy. He knew about Pansy.

"I have." He said honestly. "Is that an issue?"

"No." She shook her head and then shrugged, "I guess... no."

He moved to stand in front of her, placing his hands on her knees. "Hermione, it was a long time ago. I was nineteen, and I was experimenting. And it was only a few times. Nothing serious, just some fun with no expectations."

She nodded and then smiled, "I don't care, really I don't. It's just that I've never done anything like that. I've never even thought about it." She shrugged, "I guess I'm just on the vanilla side of life."

He ran his hands higher along her thighs, "I don't think that's true. What I've seen of you is far from vanilla. We had sex in a car, remember?"

"But everyone does that."

His hands slid to her hips and he pulled her to the edge of the counter. "Not everyone. If it wasn't for you, that would never have occurred."

"I'm sure you would have found your way into a car eventually." She watched as his fingers easily slipped each button on her shirt free. "Are we not eating?"

"Oh, we are." He wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing her. "I'm just hungry for something else."

Hermione laughed and tugged his t-shirt over his head. "Hungry for cheese?"

He leaned in, planting wet kisses across the swells of her breasts. "No." He bit down gently, pulling a gasp from her lungs. "I'm hungry for that sweet pussy of yours."

"Hmmm," she murmured, her head dropping back as Draco dragged his tongue along her neck. "How hungry?"

"Starving." He slid his hands under her arse and whispered in her ear, "Where do you want me to fuck you?"

She peeked over his shoulder, "Right there. Right on the table."

"The table? Right where we eat? Right where we serve dinner when we have company?" He chuckled against her throat, "How very un-vanilla of you, Mrs. Malfoy."

Draco lifted her easily and carried her across the room, plopping her onto the edge of the table. He cleared the surface with an impatient shove of his arm, plates sliding to the floor, smashing against the tile, and splintering into a million pieces.

He gripped her shoes in both hands, pulling them from her feet at once. Her jeans followed, the button and zipper undone in record time, her hips lifting off the wooden surface as his hands yanked them down her legs.

Stepping between her thighs, he kissed her with a hunger that had her growing wet and slick, and wondering why he'd left her panties on. She wanted him inside her body, and she wanted him now.

She unfastened the top of his jeans, but he gripped her wrists, pulling her hands away.

"Draco," she whined. "Please. I need you to—"

He cut her off with his mouth on hers, kissing her once more with the fierce possessiveness that always made her toes curl.

He released her hands and reached behind her, unclasping her bra. He slowly slid the straps down her arms and stepped back to look at her.

"Mrs. Malfoy," his lips curled into a devious smile. "You look good enough to eat."

She reached out and traced her hand over his pecs, drawing one finger down the centre of his chest, across his abs and stopping at the open fly of his jeans.

"Mr. Malfoy, where did you want to start?"

Dropping to his knees, he ran his palm up the inside of her thigh, brushing his thumb over a spot through her panties. "I think I'll start here."

He pressed his thumb against her again, circling over the lace. Her head dropped back as she let out a long, contented sigh.

He pressed a kiss to the soft skin of her thigh. "You like that?"

"Mmm-hmm." She hummed and slid a hand through his hair.

He pushed aside her panties and blew a long breath against her wet slit. She swore, and fell back against the table with a thud.

Hermione's breath caught as his fingers spread her open and he buried his face in her pussy, closing his mouth over her, kissing her with the same urgency as if he were kissing her mouth.

"Draco," She moaned and lifted her feet to rest on his shoulders, a heavy shudder rolling along her spine.

He hummed against her soaked skin and sucked her clit into his mouth, causing her to cry out and jerk against his face.

With hard, persistent strokes of his tongue, he dragged her to the edge of an orgasm, but never let her fall. Again and again he teased, and each time he knew she was close, he pulled back and pressed his lips to her thigh, waiting for her need to release to subside.

"Draco… please." She whined, "Please don't stop."

He chuckled and grazed his teeth across her thigh. "I don't plan to."

Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he dragged them over her hips, and dropped the sodden lace to the floor.

With his mouth back on her, he slipped two fingers deep inside her, and she pushed against his hand, chasing the delicious friction his thick fingers were slowly building.

Her body began trembling and she cried out, reaching down and grabbing a fistful of his hair.

He continued to tease her as she rocked her hips against his face. His tongue was perfect, flicking and circling; the sound of his fingers fucking her drenched pussy filled the room.

Her body was wound tight, and she began to throb against his mouth but he didn't slow down. She pressed closer, begging him with her body for more. Her hands gripped him tighter, her heels digging into his shoulders.

"Come, Hermione..." He demanded against her intimate flesh, pressing his fingers into her in a deep, hard thrust. "Come… now."

A sharp sound tore from her throat and pleasure roared through her like a flame - rich, raw, and powerful, and leaving her shuddering in its wake.

Draco kissed her smooth skin once more before rising and shoving his jeans down his legs. He smiled at the sight before him. Her flushed skin, tightened nipples, rumpled hair. She was perfection, and he wasn't nearly done.

Gently pulling her hips towards the edge of the table, he braced himself on one hand so he could cup her breast with the other.

"You are anything but vanilla, Mrs. Malfoy." His mouth dropped to her nipple, placing a light kiss to the hardened peak. "You are magnificent." He kissed the dip between her breasts. "You are lavish." He kissed her other nipple. "You are sin."

He sucked her nipple hard and tight, her body rising from the table as sensation shot through her.

"You like that?" he asked, not waiting for an answer before moving his mouth back to her neglected breast.

"Oh! Please! Draco, more!" Her hands gripped frantically at his shoulders, wanting the weight of him over her, wanting his mouth on hers.

He came down over her, his chest rubbing against her breasts, and claimed her, his tongue sliding against hers in an almost savage mating of mouths. Hermione's arms circled his shoulders, gasping as he shifted between her thighs, his erection settling against the warm, wet slip of skin where his mouth had just been.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, holding him to her and he began to rock against her parted flesh, the heavy length of him sparking jolts of pleasure through her with each slide across her clit.

"Draco!"

Hermione's scream echoed around the kitchen, her body bowing beneath him. His mouth went to her neck, sucking at the straining muscles, feeling the pleasure roll through her, and causing him to fight his own need to release.

Her eyes fluttered shut, remaining closed for several long seconds. Her breathing was ragged, her skin shone with a layer of perspiration. Draco kissed her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, waiting for her body to calm. He brushed her hair from her face and she forced her eyes open, smiling lazily up at him.

Kissing her gently, he returned her smile. "I love the way you scream my name."

Then he started moving again, nudging the tip of his erection against her and pushing slowly into the silky-soft heat between her legs.

"Wait," she groaned and pressed her hand to his chest. "Too much. I can't."

Every fibre of his being told him to just take her, plunge into her and drive her over the edge again. But he held back, stilling, pressing his hips to hers, and circling her head with his arms.

"I know you can," he whispered. "Tell me when."

He kept everything easy, kissing her gently, whispering quietly in her ear, until her breathing eased, and she looked up at him with renewed desire in her eyes.

He caught her lips in another sweet kiss. "Ready?"

Hermione smiled up at him and nodded, and he started moving, deep and slow, again and again, building the friction inside her. She reached up, threading her hands through his hair, and pulled his mouth down to hers. She rolled her hips, meeting his slow movements, and he knew that now she was ready.

He pulled almost completely out of her and then surged back in. She tore her mouth from his, crying out as he began to drive into her, hard and fast. She melted into him, unable to meet his movements, simply allowing him to chase his own need, his own hunger.

Her body started to shake and Draco slipped a hand between them, finding the throbbing nub that would push her over once more. He pressed his thumb down hard, and her scream once more filled the room.

He rode her orgasm, her body clenching, tightening, pulsating round him, until he could barely breathe. His body shuddered and he let out a rough groan, grabbing her chin and bringing her mouth to his, as he released inside her.


Hours later, Draco lay awake watching Hermione sleep, his mind continually looping back to the conversation of earlier in the evening.

Why she thought she wasn't adventurous when it came to sex confounded him. She had been incredible from the very first time. It may not have been the wildness of his youth, but she always managed to surprise him — the shower, the couch, the one time in the back garden under the stars. The frantic times when she could barely wait until they were in the door and would demand he fuck her against the wall.

But even more so, he loved the quiet times with her. Those times she would simply stare into his eyes while he loved her. Those times she would fall asleep with her head in his lap. And those times when he just wanted to curl around her while they slept.

Intimacy. Adoration. Love.

Chemistry.

That's what he had. And it was all with the one person he always thought completely unattainable, and it was so much more than he ever hoped to have.

But did she want more? Did she want to experience something new, something different? Was that why she'd asked him the question she had?

He rolled to his back and stared into the darkness. If it was what she wanted, he would give it to her. He would give her anything she asked for.

But the question was: who?