“Was there something in that eggnog?”
Draco and Blaise exchanged a brief glance before Blaise looked at the brunette who had softly spoken. “What makes you ask that, love? You feeling okay?”
“You’re both acting strange and neither of you have had a drink of the eggnog despite your fondness for your grandmother’s recipe, Blaise,” Hermione said matter-of-factly as she looked at the two wizards suspiciously. “It also tastes a bit off from what we had last year, as if there is something different in the ingredients.”
“Can you not analyze every single thing in your life for even a few hours, Granger?” Draco asked as he leaned back in his chair, cool gray eyes surveying the flushed witch. He had to admit that she looked quite fetching with her curls around her face and her cheeks rosy from the heat of the nearby fire. When Blaise had first called out her name while dreaming a few weeks ago, he had admittedly been jealous, then angry, and then somewhat intrigued. She was no longer the annoying swot who he’d loathed during their years at Hogwarts. Well, actually, she was still a bossy annoyance despite her advanced age of twenty-six, but she was now a very cute know-it-all with a very pleasing figure that he found rather attractive, which just proved how things had changed since they’d all left Hogwarts and the War had ended.
During school, he and Blaise were casual friends, studying together at times and often attending the same parties outside of school with their parents, but there had been no particular closeness between them nor had there been any indication of an attraction other than the random thoughts he had while wanking, which wasn’t particularly special since he wanked back then to a variety of different images and people with whom he would never actually shag. He’d been a healthy boy, after all, and it was not uncommon for his fantasies to include wizards as well as witches, some of whom he hated, the fantasy of being shagged by the Golden bloody Trio definite proof of that since he wouldn’t have touched Weasel or Potty for a vault full of galleons.
When he had met up with Blaise by chance not two years after graduation during a trip to Paris, the last thing he had expected was to find himself becoming lovers with his former schoolmate. They had shagged, though, neither denying the attraction they both felt, simply enjoying one another in a casual way to satisfy their urges. That had been four years ago, their relationship consisting of occasional meetings for sex as neither had wished to declare sappy words of romance or feelings. It was only last year, after three years of becoming closer in friendship and sex, that they had finally had a talk.
Well, Blaise had talked and he had simply snogged the dark-haired wizard senseless in a silent agreement with the overly flowery words of second chances and a possible future together since a Malfoy would never say such pathetic words of sentiment. They had decided to stop playing games and just move in together, ending the farce of it just being sex between them. During the three years he‘d been shagging Blaise, he’d had women and a couple of men, but he’d never cared about any of them beyond wanting sex because Blaise was unavailable. He could now admit that he loved Blaise. He could also admit that he cared about Hermione, his lover’s best friend.
When he had first discovered that Hermione Granger, bane of his childhood, was his lover’s roommate, best friend, and work colleague, he’d thrown a bit of a tantrum. Blaise had called him childish and told him to forget Hogwarts and the rivalries that had existed when they’d been children. He had been suspicious even before he had moved in with them, noticing the shared smiles, private jokes, and comfortable way they reacted with each other. Blaise loved him, though, and she never gave any indication that she thought of Blaise as anything but a friend so he had remained quiet about his suspicions.
However, after that moan of her name quickly followed by the sound of his own name during Blaise’s dream several weeks ago plus the erection that had been firmly pressed against his arse, he’d realized he had been right. His lover fancied Granger. It had only taken a few days of careful observation to see that the feeling was reciprocated no matter how well she thought she was concealing her attraction. What had surprised him, however, was that she was also sneaking looks *his* way before blushing and turning away. The knowledge that she also seemed to find him desirable had quickly diffused his anger and jealous to focus his complete attention on the intriguing possibility of having her join them, which led to his plans for the evening. He was going to give Blaise the thing he wanted most for Christmas and he planned to share the gift. Hermione, of course, had no idea that she was his Christmas gift to Blaise and himself this year.
It had taken very little convincing to charm Blaise into agreeing to his plan. If it went wrong, they could always obliviate her and pretend it never happened, at least knowing one way or another if she was willing to be theirs. He had brewed the relaxation potion himself, something to loosen her inhibitions and let her act on how she felt. It would not force her to do anything she did want to do, neither he nor Blaise wanting her to have regrets or a handy excuse of potion influence to blame if she chose to be with them. Draco watched Blaise move to sit beside her on the sofa, noticing every detail of her face as his lover adjusted his lanky frame.
“What did you add to the eggnog?” she asked quietly. She didn’t believe they had done anything to harm her, but she knew them well enough to know they were up to something. The room was so warm and her breathing had not been normal since she had taken her third drink from the tacky mug she had received from Harry to make her laugh.
“It’s like this, Hermione,” Blaise said nervously, “well, you see, we, Draco and I that is, we.”
“Bloody hell, Zabini. No would could ever accuse you of being suave or charming.” Draco smirked as he listened to Blaise speak like a third year asking for his first kiss. His eyes caught Hermione’s as he said in mock surprise, “Oh my, there appears to be mistletoe over you, Gran-Hermione. Whatever will we do?”
“Mistletoe?” Hermione looked up, eyes widening as she saw that there was, indeed, a sprig of mistletoe on the ceiling above her head. Before she could ask how that had gotten there, soft lips caught hers. Moaning, she opened her mouth to Blaise, her hand finding its way into his short black hair. When he pulled back, their eyes met for a moment but she didn’t have time to speak before she was being kissed again. This time, it was anything but gentle. Thin lips moved over hers, a tongue sweeping into her mouth, claiming her as desire began to build in her stomach. She whimpered when Draco finally released her now swollen lips, his eyes burning into hers. Intense, smug, full of lust and need, but also cautious and just a bit vulnerable.
“We want you, Hermione.” Blaise’s voice was soft, sensual, no longer anxious and worried. After the kisses they had just shared, he knew without a doubt that this was what they all wanted, what they needed. It was far from conventional, certainly, but they had never been much for convention anyway. He was a selfish bastard who wanted to love the two people that meant the most to him, to share his life, his happiness, his body with them and to take everything they gave him in return.
“Will you be ours?” Draco asked, his tone challenging. Daring her to act on her heart instead of spending time thinking, planning, considering every possible outcome of a relationship with them before making a decision.
Even with the potion she had unknowingly drunk, Hermione hesitated for a moment. It was everything she had dreamed since shortly after Draco had moved in with them, but it was impossible, wasn’t it? Feeling lips brush soft kisses against her neck, her eyes fluttered closed, thought leaving her mind as another set of lips moved along the other side of her neck, sucking and nibbling on the flesh.
“Say yes,” Draco growled softly. His hand moved over her breasts, cupping them through her jumper, feeling her nipples hard against his palm.
“Yes,” Hermione hissed before Blaise kissed her again.
“We should move this to the bedroom,” Draco suggested, unable to hide the smug smile on his lips as they both looked at him, their faces flushed with desire and their eyes full of lust. Bloody hell, they were beautiful. And they were his.
The End