High (A Harry Potter Fanfiction--Dramione)

The Return of the Thong

The day Draco left the infirmary Hermione felt like her skin was on fire with how badly she wanted to touch him. All day she gazed longingly at him in the Great Hall, in class, in the hallways, but his Slytherin friends never seemed to leave his side. He'd shoot her secret smiles and looks filled with want that matched her own. Why couldn't the Slytherins just go away? They seemed to think they were protecting him or something.

Pansy Parkinson was an utter fucking delight as always—attempting to drape herself over him and cooing at him. There were several times Hermione wanted to sock that vapid little minger in her pug-faced snout for daring to paw at her boyfriend. But Draco spurned her advances and otherwise generally ignored her. He'd glance at Hermione during those moments and covertly roll his eyes.

Draco wasn't faring much better. He only wanted to be with her. Everyone else could go fuck themselves. He couldn't believe there was ever a time when he couldn't go anywhere in the castle without at least two cronies. If he'd known all those years he was setting a precedent which would ultimately lead to this moment when he couldn't be alone with his witch, he'd have made fewer friends from Day 1.

Afternoon rolled around and Draco felt the familiar call he always felt on days like today. If he had to wait to be with Hermione, he would at least do so on his own terms. He headed down to the Quidditch pitch with Blaise and Theo on his tail. The moment he stepped outside he felt his heart would burst as he deeply inhaled the spring air. The rich scent of moist earth and the faint smell of water on the grass had an instant effect on his body. He felt stronger already. Even the anticipation of flying always made him feel like he was truly a part of the world. Like he really belonged to it. His father always said that as a Malfoy, he was separate and above his surroundings and he should carry himself with distinction. But Draco only ever wanted to belong. As he soared through the air with the warm wind whipping around him, he felt that sense of belonging—as though he were somehow necessary to the fabric of the earth, accepted by the elements. There were only two things that made him feel so warm and alive: Flying and being with Hermione. He didn't even have to be inside her—just sitting with her, holding her hand, listening to her talk was enough. For the past two weeks his world had been a cold hospital bed. As he buzzed through the air he felt healthy and happy—like a boy who didn't have to carry out dangerous, soul-crushing missions for a vainglorious lunatic.

He peered through the stands and saw a familiar silhouette crouching behind a wooden pier.

Hermione.

His heart sang at the sight of her. He lowered himself to the ground, motioning for Blaise and Theo to do the same. "You two go on back to the castle. I just need to be alone for a while."

Blaise raised a concerned eyebrow. "You sure?"

Draco scowled. "Potter's not going to come out here and finish the job if that's what you're worried about."

His two friends nodded and obeyed his instruction. He watched them disappear before he mounted his broom again and flew over to Hermione.

She beamed as he approached. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," he said as he landed on the ground next to her and swooped her into his arms for a hard kiss. Gods, she tasted amazing. She tasted like he felt—full of sunshine and life. Every cell in his body awoke and rejoiced at the warmth and the scent of the witch in his arms.

When they broke apart she smiled sweetly. "You fly beautifully."

She wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know, but he loved hearing it from her voice just the same. He tugged playfully on one of her curls. "Thanks."

"You seem so happy."

"I am happy." He took her hand. "Especially now that you're here."

She blushed at that. The two held hands as they walked over to a secluded patch of earth under a tree near the stands. Draco sat and pulled Hermione into his lap, securing her head under his chin. They said nothing for a while. They were just content to sit in each other's arms, so starved were they for one another's touch.