Dramione Drabbles

25. Seven Minutes in Heaven

The air was knocked out of Draco's lungs as Granger shoved him against the wall. His shoe slammed metal, spurring a domino effect of clanging noise—a bucket spilling cleaning solution on the floor, the mop toppling over, dust raining over their heads.

Granger yanked his tie until their lips were inches apart, whispering sweetly against his mouth, "Aren't Slytherins meant to be stealthy?"

He was speechless.

"Better." She smirked, releasing his tie to unbutton his shirt. "Gods, you're fit. I'd have done this ages ago..."

His trousers felt too tight, uncomfortably so, as she licked his chest. "Granger," he groaned, snaking his arms around her waist, and because he couldn't help it, dropping his hand to her arse and squeezing.

She raked her fingernails down his abdomen. "I'm wearing a skirt," she whispered into his ear.

"I know." The pleated fabric was bunched in his fist.

"So why aren't you taking advantage of it?"

Draco gulped. This was not—what the hell—Granger who? As if sensing his questions, she pressed her lips to his, shutting him up before he could ask.

Draco sighed, melting into her. At the same time, he slipped his hand beneath her skirt and plucked the seam of her knickers, drawing his fingers over the curve of her arse. "That's it," she purred. "I like your hands on me."

"Fuck, Granger." He shut his eyes, tilting his pelvis so that his cock was pressed to her front.

"What do you want, Draco?" She yanked his belt.

He seized her left butt cheek beneath her cotton knickers. "I want to fuck you."

"Malfoy!" came a scandalized gasp.

Draco's eyes shot open, coming face to face with Granger behind their cauldron. His gaze dropped to his trousers. Fully erect. Fuck. He nudged his stool closer to the table. "Sorry. That was... intense."

Granger's eyes were round. "You said my name."

"What?" Now would be a great time for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"You said 'fuck, Granger' and then 'I want to fuck you'." She held up the vial containing their potion, disappointed. "It must be faulty. I'll rework the formula—"

"It's not."

She paused. "What?"

"Faulty." He tapped his foot anxiously. One little Draco-sized hole surely wasn't a lot to ask for...

"But you spent seven minutes in heaven."

"Uh huh." The blackboard suddenly became fascinating. Someone had drawn a tiny chalk penis at the bottom left corner.

She lowered the potion, her mouth quirking. "Where were we?"

"Pardon?"

"In the clouds? By the beach? In a library? Was I the Minister for Magic? Were we having a secret affair?"

"A broom closet. In Hogwarts."

Her face fell. "You're joking."

"Wish I was." He shrugged. "Though, I am impressed by your imagination. Should we give you Seven Minutes In Heaven to see where you end up?"

"Fine. Guarantee it won't be a broom closet." She poured herself a shot of hot pink solution and downed it in one swig.

Draco watched, enraptured, as Granger's eyes shut and her body relaxed. She licked her lips. He leaned closer, holding his breath until he heard—"Please. Right there, Draco."

Fuck, yes. He rose his fist in the air, glad nobody was around to witness his exuberance.

"Well?" he asked, giddy, when she opened her eyes.

She watched him strangely, blushing. "Not a broom closet."

"Okay, then where?"

She hesitated. "BeneaththeQuidditchstandsbeforeagame."

"Come again?"

"Beneath the Quidditch stands before a game!" she snapped, appalled. Her gaze swept over his school shirt. "You were wearing your Seeker uniform."

Well, well, well.

Draco was beaming. "You know, Granger, there's a game against Gryffindor this Saturday..."

She met his gaze, raising a cheeky brow. "You know, Malfoy, there's a broom closet right around the corner..."

(628 words, first written July 2022, prompt: Seven Minutes in Heaven from Twitter)