Inell's Fanfiction Archive

Merlin, she was never drinking again.


That was the first thought that penetrated the hazy cloud around Hermione Granger’s mind as she slowly woke up. She snuggled under the covers, reluctant to open her eyes. It was warm and she felt comfortable, still sleepy. Plus there was the headache that was already forming in the back of her mind and the fact that she was aching all over. Her lips curved into a slight frown as she realized she was hurting in places that most decidedly should not have been affected by getting pissed at the club.


About the same time she became aware of the fact that her body felt as if she had been shagged senseless, she felt the arm around her waist, the body pressed behind hers. The hard definitely male body holding her tightly. God, she did not get drunk and have sex with some random guy. Please let this be a nightmare. She kept her eyes tightly closed, hoping that would prevent the reality of the situation from sinking in. She tried to remember what had happened.


The conference in Las Vegas, of all places. Her boss had been forced to attend, his family owning several Muggle companies as well as interests in the wizarding community. The conference catered to both, a new line of accessories for mediwitches and instruments for Muggle hospitals. Normally, Blaise Zabini would leave such matters to one of many employees but he had been working on several acquisitions lately and had welcomed a bit of a working vacation. As his personal assistant, she had accompanied him.


Merlin, if he found out about this she’d never hear the end of it! The raven-haired Slytherin had surprisingly become a good friend when they’d been in their Seventh year at Hogwarts. They’d been partners in several classes, and she had gotten to know the charming but somewhat quiet wizard. After graduation, she’d accepted a job working as his assistant, the opportunity for travel and the large salary too tempting to refuse. She had taken correspondence classes from a wizarding university and had earned her joint degree in finance and charms two years ago. Instead of leaving Blaise, she had remained, finding the job fascinating and challenging and enjoying working with the man that had become her best friend.


Blaise was extremely good-looking and charming and intelligent, able to successfully command the attention of everyone during a meeting or of simply fading into the background when he wanted a moment of solitude or quiet. He was also a bit of a flirt to every woman except her, treating her like a younger sister even though she tended to take care of him. She had memorized the cute little notes to send with flowers to his numerous dates, the dark wizard never dating anyone more than once. She often teased him about his inability to commit to even a second date, referring to most of his witches as the flavor of the week. Her bitterness regarding his habit of dating constantly had nothing at all to do with the infatuation she had developed for him during the last few years. Nope, not at all. Since her social life consisted of going out with Harry and Pansy or Ron and Luna or Ginny and Neville, she knew he’d probably find it incredibly amusing that she’d gone and shagged some stranger in some weird Muggle town.


Luckily, she had today off work. The conference was over the previous afternoon, Blaise deciding that they’d spend the remainder of the weekend having a real vacation with no work, though he had one last meeting scheduled that afternoon. That was why they’d been at that club last night, having joined a few of the others that they’d met at the conference for drinks and dancing. Hermione had actually dressed up for the occasion, knowing the other female attendees had been barely clad the entire week while she’d been wearing her customary trousers or knee-length skirts and baggy but comfortable shirts.


She’d felt rather dowdy the entire week, for once allowing her vanity to show through by choosing a dress that displayed her curvaceous figure without making her look too pudgy. It had been low cut and there had been a slit on the side that went to her upper thigh, showing off her long legs and full breasts. Her hair had been left down instead of being twisted into a loose bun or ponytail, the brown curls falling down her back and giving her a carefree and sexy look, though she tended to think it just made her look disheveled and messy. Hermione had been determined to enjoy the evening and just have fun.


Since graduation from Hogwarts six years before, she had been so busy with studying and working and making time for her friends that she hadn’t really just let go and relaxed. During any of the functions she had to attend with Blaise, she was always working and reminding him who everyone was, though he had a fantastic memory and rarely needed her assistance but he still insisted she be present.


When she protested, he’d smile that appealing smile and his indigo eyes would flash violet and she’d be unable to refuse. It had been that particular smile that had gotten her into this current mess. She’d wanted to remain at the hotel and owl her friends, but he’d smiled and informed her that it certainly wouldn’t be any fun wandering our some strange Muggle town without her there to interpret.


He had hinted that it could very well fall beneath her job description to make sure he interacted with the Muggles without making himself look stupid. Ha! As if Blaise Zabini, charismatic and captivating would ever have a reason to worry about looking foolish. She had relented, though, because the town was fascinating and she’d liked the idea of exploring it before returning home. She also found it, even after seven years, rather impossible to resist Blaise when he was at his most charming and had that determined gleam in his eyes.


Which was how she had ended up wearing a sexy dress that she normally wouldn’t have dared wear while drinking far too much and ending up in bed with some strange man who had a very hard body pressed against hers. Did she mention all the aching muscles that had not been used since her brief affair with Oliver Wood the summer after graduation? Hell, there were some aches indicating that she’d done things the previous night that she’d never done before and she couldn’t remember anything. With a soft groan, she realized that she was going to have to open her eyes if she planned to sneak out of here without any awkward moments.


Slowly, brown eyes opened, focusing on an expensive lamp beside the bed before looking at the clock. It was nearly ten, her eyes widening slightly as she realized this was the latest she had ever slept. The body behind her snuggled closer, an erection pressing against her bum as a hand possessively held her breast, breath on her neck as the man she was sleeping with continued to sleep. He had great hands, she thought before cursing herself for thinking about the feel of this stranger instead of figuring a way out of this mess. Blaise was probably worried about her, she realized, knowing that they had discussed meeting for lunch and doing some sightseeing.


Malfoy was probably enjoying this, she thought crossly, deliberately filling his best friend’s head with all sorts of horrible ideas regarding her whereabouts, the blond Slytherin still being the biggest pain in her arse. He was Blaise’s best friend, though, so they attempted to tolerate one another and usually were content with verbal abuse instead of hexing. In most areas of her life, she was a mature and serious woman of twenty-four. However, mere moments in the presence of that arrogant, smug, condescending, rude, sexy blond bastard and she’d find her maturity slipping away as they began to argue about the stupidest subjects and usually end up name calling and glaring like children.


Blaise found it all terribly amusing and loved to invite Malfoy to sit with them at various functions or join them while traveling, the blond rarely refusing since he didn’t seem to have anything better to do than make her life miserable. That was definitely one of the few negatives of working for Blaise, having to constantly, or so it seemed, be around Malfoy since he was her boss’s best friend.


It was fortunate that she rather enjoyed their verbal sparring, enjoying the times she managed to best him and he had to admit defeat with a snarl before sulking or suggesting that Blaise fire her and hire someone less opinionated and intelligent. She and Blaise had their own arguments throughout the years but they were usually simple debates and one or the other would smile at the end and acknowledge that the other was right. Malfoy, however, would never admit she was right nor had she ever admitted he might infrequently on a very rare occasion be correct.


When she had left her room the previous night, Malfoy and Blaise had been lounging in the sitting room of the large suite. She remembered because there had been the moment of excitement at seeing that Draco had joined them unexpectedly mixed with the annoyance that her night out would be most likely be ruined by the egotistical prat. Hermione closed her eyes as she tried to concentrate on remembering what had happened. She’d greeted her boss and his friend, remembering Blaise gaping at her before he’d quickly stood up and given her his customary ‘Hermione reserved’ smile, as she liked to think of it. A charming but platonic showing of perfect white teeth that never failed to make her feel special since she had never once witnessed him smiling that particular smile at anyone else.


Malfoy had glared at her, she recalled, suggesting she might want to wear a robe or something to avoid catching a cold before flashing his Hermione reserved sneer. The one that said ‘I’m better than you are, you frumpy Muggleborn, and you should be thrilled that I am actually allowing you to be seen in my presence’ and made her want to slap it right off his thin lips. It was very unfair that Malfoy was not only a Pureblood from a noble wizarding family and quite wealthy, he also had to be handsome and, though she’d suffer through curses before admitting it, somewhat sexy.


His features were pointy and sharp, which should have made him look like a rodent, a slight smile crossing her face since he still loathed being called Ferret so it had become her own personal nickname for the smug and arrogant wizard. But, instead of resembling a rat, he managed to make a long, pointy nose and high cheekbones and thin lips, okay so the bottom lip was plump and full, look distinguished and attractive.


He was an average height, not much taller than her, but he carried himself with a self-assurance and confidence that caused him to seem superior. He was slender and she knew from catching him wandering around Blaise’s flat without his shirt that he was muscular and had great shoulders and could very well advertise the meaning of the word ‘six pack’. Blaise was taller than Draco, but the raven-haired wizard was lanky and caused one to always encourage him to eat more because he was too skinny. It was rather infuriating that he could eat as much as he did, having a fondness for Muggle sweets even, and still have a slim and almost willowy frame. When she ate sweets, they went directly to her hips or tummy.


Blaise moved with a grace and elegance that was unusual for one so tall, while Malfoy had this habit of moving in a predatory way, as if he were stalking you and could very well pounce at any moment. Needless to say, Hermione was the recipient of many an envious stare whenever she was with both of the wizard, finding it rather amusing and somewhat disappointing since one of them considered her a sisterly best friend and the other considered her an engaging adversary. The brunette witch made a face as she realized that now was not the time to lazily dose in bed and think about the two most prominent men in her life, spending more time with Blaise and even Malfoy than she did with Ron and Harry.


After they had left their room, they’d joined some other attendees and gone to some loud Muggle club. She did not drink alcohol but had decided to be a bit daring after Malfoy dared her to trying something reckless, ordering her a drink called a Paradise Peach, his pale gray eyes challenging her to drink the strange concoction. After that, she’d had several other fruity drinks that didn’t taste very alcoholic at all. There had been some guy that had asked her to dance, young but rather cute with brightly colored blue hair. She had accepted, she recalled, though the actual dance wasn’t coming to her hazy mind.


Hands on her body, lips on her neck, breath in her ear, whispers of leaving the loud club and going somewhere private. Laughing and flirting and kissing, touching and tasting, pleasure, so much pleasure, happiness and contentment, bold and daring behavior, splashing in a fountain. Flying. There had definitely been flying. Hermione grimaced as the images fluttered in random order, never showing the man that was in bed with her. She’d enjoyed it, though. She knew that even if she couldn’t remember it.


She knew she was procrastinating, putting off the awkward moment of ‘hey, I have no idea who you are even though we obviously shagged several times and in a variety of ways judging by how sore my body is today but I really need to go so let’s just chalk this up to having too much to drink’ and trying to sneak away with at least a little dignity intact. Oh God, her eyes suddenly opened as she had a horrid thought. What if she had ended up in bed with one of the old wizards that had been drinking so much and had the nerve to pinch her bum the previous day?


Surely even intoxicated she would have enough sense to find someone she was somewhat attracted to. After all, she had had sex only a few times in her life and that had been during her relationship with Oliver Wood, a man she still considered a good friend. She did not sleep around and had never had a one night stand, had never even imagined having one, so she really hoped she had at least chosen someone somewhat intriguing.


When she opened her eyes that time, she slowly became aware of two things. One was the fact that she had jewelry on her finger. Hermione didn’t wear rings, believing they got in the way when she was writing and not liking the idea of constantly removing the ink from them. Yet, there on her finger appeared to be two rings. One was a lovely silver band with what appeared to be emeralds and, Merlin, those looked like diamonds. The other was also a very pretty silver band with a setting of rubies and sapphires, both rings looking as if they probably cost more than she made in several years.


The other thing she noticed was that the hand possessively holding her breast was still in place, the smooth palm indicating that her worries of shagging some old wizard were unfounded, which really made it impossible for there to be a hand with a rough palm resting possessively on her hip. Hermione decided that this was definitely some sort of twisted dream most likely caused by whatever Muggle alcohol she had enjoyed the previous evening.


Before she could relax from making that rather preposterous but ‘Merlin, please let it be true’ decision, she felt lips on her neck and a very prominent erection against her arse and heard an all too familiar voice whispering, “Morning, love.”


At the sound of his voice, Hermione squeaked and quickly moved out of bed, confusion and anxiety on her face as she finally turned around to see the results of her irresponsible behavior. Brown eyes widened as she saw Blaise laying in bed with a sheet around his waist, his indigo eyes content and sleepy as he looked at her. They narrowed as he looked into her eyes and saw her surprise and bewilderment. His curly black hair was messy, her fingers itching to run through its length, visions of doing just that flashing in her mind. Blaise licking her breasts as she rode him, her hands gripping his hair and pushing against his face when he’d had his head buried between her thighs.


Oh God, oh God, oh God. Her body was heating up as the memories became much more vivid as she woke up. She looked beyond Blaise and gasped when she saw who belonged to the calloused hand that had been resting on her hip. Pale blond hair covered his face as he continued to sleep, the thick locks tousled and brushing just against his neck. There was a throbbing between her legs as she looked at his nude body, the sheet barely covering his legs, her eyes lingering on his tight bum and muscular arms.


Arms that had held her as he’d taken her against a wall, her legs wrapped around his waist as he’d devoured her mouth. Lips still sore from the consuming and passionate kisses they’d shared, so unlike the gentle and exploring kisses she shared with Blaise. Rough hands that had held her hips as he’d pumped into her from behind, his cock going in deeply and she’d pressed back towards him, her mouth full of Blaise’s thick cock. Gray eyes looking into hers as Draco had taken Blaise from behind, confirming her suspicions about the exact nature of their relationship. Draco’s lips wrapped around Blaise’s cock as he’d fucked her hard, Blaise’s cock buried in her arse as she’d fucked Draco. No wonder she was so sore. She’d shagged them for hours in a variety of ways she had only ever fantasized about.


“Hermione, darling, get back into bed,” Blaise said softly, his eyes moving over her nude body as his cock began to throb. She looked gorgeous in the morning after being properly, well improperly, shagged. Her hair was unrulier than normal and he could see bit of dried come in the curly locks from where Draco had laid back and wanked with the soft tendrils wrapped around his long shaft. Her eyes were confused and disbelieving, her lips red and tender with dried release at the corners of her mouth and on her chin.


There were marks on her neck from where he had sucked the skin into his mouth, wanting to finally mark her as his in some entirely masculine possessive way. Her nipples were hard and he could see shallow bite marks on her breasts and upper thighs, Draco having marked her in his own way. He knew there would be scratches on her back just as there were deeper ones on his and Draco’s, Hermione proving to be wild and untamed in bed, just as he had always suspected. As per the tattoo on his shoulder, it was always the quiet ones, thank Merlin.


Her breasts, tummy, and pussy were also coated in dried come and her own release was mixed with theirs on her upper thighs. He could see pale bruises already forming on her hips and knew similar imprints would be on her arse and legs, Draco having been a bit rough with her at her encouragement, the two being magnificent once they’d given in to their desire and passion for one another. She smelled of sex and sweat and the unique scent that he always identified with Hermione, and he felt himself stirring from the intoxicating aroma. He had wanted her for so bloody long that, when he’d finally gotten her, he’d shagged her senseless and been willing to do anything she wanted to give her pleasure.


His own body was coated in a mixture of his lovers and his own fluids, his arse sore from the pounding Draco had given him as well as from having Hermione’s fingers buried inside him. His cock was sensitive, the raven-haired Slytherin coming more last night than he had ever imagined possible. There was a bite mark on his shoulder that Hermione had given him during one of their many couplings and he had bruises on his legs from Draco gripping his thighs during a particularly aggressive blow job as Hermione had been sucking and licking the blond‘s cock and arse.


All in all, he was utterly exhausted and wanted nothing more than to cuddle up to his lovers and sleep for a few more hours before having a repeat of the previous evening, though he knew that last night had been so intense because they’d wanted one another for so long and had just given in to the desire and need. He felt no guilt for adding a small potion to Hermione’s drink that had loosened her inhibitions, having done a lot of serious thinking about their relationship during the seven years they’d been friends and deciding that it was finally time to stop hiding how he felt. Knowing of Draco’s own feelings for his assistant, they had concocted this elaborate scheme, utilizing every Slytherin trait they possessed.


Draco had done research in his Father’s library for a ceremony that could bind the three of them and be recognized by the wizarding world, the idea of three people making a relationship together actually rather common in the Middle Ages before society began to dictate that it was sinful and that only two people should share love and devotion and attraction. To him, it was foolish to try to dictate whom one should love. After all, he had been involved with Draco since they were teens and had begun to care for Hermione as something more than a friend within six months of her working as his assistant. Draco had finally found the perfect ceremony, a wedding bond that would be recognized and accepted and proceeding to locate the rare ingredients necessary for the potions.


When he had seen the invitation to the conference in Las Vegas, it had seemed a perfect time to proceed with their plans. He knew it sounded as if he and Draco had been sneaky and underhanded, using a potion on Hermione and wedding her when she wasn’t exactly her normal self, but they had not given her anything to alter her mind at all. Had she not expressed any feelings of love for them while under the influence of the inhibition loosening potion, he and Draco would have acknowledged that she did not feel the same way and simply shared a drink before taking her back to her room to sleep.


But she had spoken of desire and affection and love, no longer having her annoying need to keep her feelings guarded or having her insecurities regarding her appearance, which was totally ridiculous because she was the sexiest and most beautiful witch he had ever seen, or fearing rejection should she admit to having developed feelings for them over the years. She had not been drunk, the drink Draco ordered for her having little alcohol at all and the following drinks being alcohol free. Neither of them wanted her to be inebriated during the ceremony, both wanting her to willingly accept their love and devotion as well as give her own freely. They might be Slytherins but they did love Hermione and simply wanted her in their lives, willing to go to drastic lengths to obtain the possibility of having her, but wanting her to feel the same way for them.


He had expected a moment of lightheadedness when the potion wore off this morning, knowing Hermione well enough to expect denial and curiosity and disbelief and most likely stubborn refusal to admit what she felt when she was back in her normal obstinate frame of mind, but he had hoped that he might be wrong, that she‘d wake up as happy and content as he and Draco were and simply laugh about the whole thing before snogging her husbands senseless. Judging from her reaction at hearing his voice and the speed with which she had jumped from the bed, she was having some difficulty accepting the changes in their relationships.


Blaise sighed softly when he saw the uncertainty in her brown eyes, feeling rather guilty for sneaking around and plotting such an elaborate scheme without her knowledge. He was normally very calm and reserved, such calculating and somewhat manipulative plans being more Draco’s method than his, but he had fancied Hermione for years and was a bit lost at how to tell her he had fallen in love with her and wanted her to be his everything and not simply an assistant and best friend. To complicate things even more, there was Draco. The blond wizard was his best friend and lover and had wanted Hermione since their years at Hogwarts, being even more vulnerable and uncertain how to express his feelings than Blaise.


Once he had realized that his feelings for the brunette witch were becoming something far more serious than simply friendship, Blaise had tried everything to get her to notice him as something other than a platonic friend. He had begun dating every pretty witch he could find, tolerating their vapid and brainless company in an attempt to make Hermione jealous so she’d admit she wanted him. She never had, instead teasing him and insinuating that he was a flirt, never knowing that he had not slept with any of those witches because he couldn’t get her out of his bloody mind.


He had invited her to every function possible, enjoying it far more with her around than if he were stuck with some silly witch as his date, flirting with her and being his most charming with no effect whatsoever. She was immune to his charms, finding it amusing instead of arousing. He had honestly begun to wonder if she did feel anything for him beyond what she felt for Potter or Weasley, but he would see it in her eyes at times when she was unaware she was being observed, or a small smile that would cross her pretty lips when she was listening to him, or the flash of desire he had seen after they would dance at some ball or another and the flush in her cheeks and she’d avoided looking at him, letting him know she was as attracted to him as he was to her.


He could have continued for years trying to woo her with no success so he really felt very little guilt for what he and Draco had done. After all, they were Slytherins and it was known that they always went after what they wanted so he could simply blame his possessive and devious and determined characteristics that had earned him a place in that particular House. Blaise knew that Hermione would have refused to even entertain the notion that he and Draco wanted her, believing herself to be an average witch with no particular interest except for her brilliant mind that most wizards found intimidating. She would have probably felt uncomfortable and quit and never seen either of them again.


Due to their strategy, that awkwardness had been removed and she’d been able to follow her heart without over thinking everything in her customary way. Okay, so maybe he had been foolish for hoping she’d accept the changes with little thought or deliberation, but, damn it, he loved her and wanted her and now he had her, the ceremony indissoluble and permanent. She was their wife now, their marriage consummated many times during the previous evening, and she may be caught up in her misgivings and logic at first but she was going to have to accept her own desires and love in the end. Merlin give them patience until the stubborn bossy Gryffindor finally acknowledged her own feelings and happiness at what had happened.


Hermione pulled herself from the vivid memories of the night before as she focused on Blaise, seeing the resigned but loving look in his indigo eyes as his lips curved into an affectionate and far too sexy smile for this early in the morning. Wait, it was almost midday, an annoying chipper voice in her head reminded to which she growled and sent it scurrying back. She watched Blaise’s eyes move over her, darkening as his tongue ran along his lower lip and a decidedly hungry look crossed his handsome face. She glanced down, her face flushing as she realized she was naked. Naked and definitely showing signs of the hours of sex from the night before.


Bites, dried semen, tender nipples, sensitive clit, her own juices dried on her legs, the numerous marks Blaise had left from sucking on her flesh, the pale bruises Draco had left during his passionate fucking. She looked completely and thoroughly debauched. She looked back up, glaring at him for daring to seem as though he was enjoying her confusion and not looking hung over at all. She hastily grabbed a shirt off the floor and slid it on, buttoning enough buttons to conceal her breasts, the shirt far too big and smelling like Draco, falling to her upper thighs. God, he smelled good, tingles moving throughout her fatigued and sore body. When she looked back up, two sets of eyes were staring at her. Draco was awake and yawning, sitting up and running a hand through his pale blond hair before smirking at her.


“You look good in my shirt, Hermione, but you look better naked so why don’t you take it off and get that cute little arse back in bed,” Draco drawled as his eyes moved over his new bride. She was glorious that morning, looking very well fucked, which was an understatement considering their activities the night before, and angry. Merlin, he loved it when she was pissed off, the way her hair was wild and her eyes were dark with passion and fury and her cheeks were flushed, the image never failing to make him hard.


She wondered why he enjoyed fighting with her so much, having no idea how aroused he became when she was arguing with him and looking like something from one of those boring Muggle books that Blaise had about the Goddesses of Rome. Of course, he had discovered that he also found her just as exciting when she was begging for more or taking control and riding him hard or watching curiously and giving in to her desires. In fact, the blond wizard couldn’t think of any particular circumstances in which he did not find Hermione Granger producing lust and desire within him. It had been that way for years and now he finally had the freedom to express his need and love for her.


“I most certainly will not!” Hermione replied sharply, a part of her shocked and pleased that Malfoy had just admitted finding her attractive and another part annoyed that neither he nor Blaise seemed at all upset over whatever must have happened between them last night.


“I love it when you get feisty, darling,” Draco smirked as he brushed his fingers through Blaise’s curly hair, “isn’t she smashing when she’s angry?”


“Now would not be the best to time to provoke her, Draco,” Blaise warned, sensing her growing fury at not being informed and understanding what had happened, their witch having a fondness for knowing everything and always maintaining control of the situations she found herself in, her frustration obvious.


“But I like provoking her,” Draco whined as his lower lips thrust out in a pout, his gray eyes darkening as he looked at her, “I like causing her to lose control and become a passionate woman.”


“Stop that,” Hermione glared as she put her arms in front of her chest, feeling naked in front of them despite the shirt. “This is serious, Malfoy!”


“You could say that again,” Blaise muttered, his elbow making contact with Draco’s stomach as the blond chuckled. “Play nice, Draco.”


“If I must,” Draco sighed dramatically, already finding himself loving married life. This was most fun he’d had in the morning ever, loving unsettling Hermione and starting off his day with a nice verbal spat with his beautiful witch and teasing Blaise as he enjoyed the brunette’s display of passion. Of course, he hoped most mornings consisted of a right nice shag before they started their day, but this was enjoyable, too.


“Hermione, what’s wrong?” Blaise asked, watching her look at him and gawk, seeming to give him a ’are you fucking stupid? What isn’t wrong?’ sort of look.


“About last night,” Hermione began, a blush crossing her cheeks as she suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable discussing this with two wizards she had had feelings for during the last few years and had obviously fucked numerous times the proceeding night, her hand running through her curly hair as she looked at them, “I remember bits and pieces. I know we obviously shagged.”


“We spent hours fucking and tasting and touching,” Draco chimed in helpfully, his eyes noticing the gleaming rings on her finger and darkening to a stormy gray as he realized that she was, indeed, theirs now. A sexy smile crossed his lips as he purred, “if you don’t recall the details I’m sure that Blaise and I would happily recreate them all for you. Merely as a means of assisting you, of course.”


“Bugger off, Malfoy,” she growled, not at all fond of the images that flooded her mind at hearing his purring words. “Just shut up. Blaise, damn it, what the bloody hell happened last night?”


“Love, why don’t you come over here and sit down,” Blaise suggested softly as he moved to lean against the pillows, not at all able to predict what her reaction was going to be once she found out about the ceremony.


“Don’t you *love* me, Blaise Zabini!” Hermione snapped, “I know you well enough to recognize that ‘I’ve been a bad boy and just got caught’ look! Both of you are acting like shifty Slytherin prats and I want to know why!”


“You really must learn to get over your dislike of Slytherin, Hermione,” Draco shook his head, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he said, “After all, as our wife, you are now an honorary Slytherin yourself. Now be a dear and take off my shirt and come give your husbands a nice snog. Then you can punish Blaise for being a bad, bad boy. I do love it when you get all dominant and bossy, you sexy little vixen. Rowr!”

TBC