one to dance to the rhythm of rain (willfully) wrote in hp_traditions,
one to dance to the rhythm of rain

Happy traditions, kalina_blue!

My apologies again. I have three days left of school before I graduate and my head is not screwed on properly at the moment... I'll do my best to post as regularly as possible.

Title: Midnight Kiss
Author: ???
Gift For: kalina_blue
Pairing(s): Draco/Hermione
Summary: When the Ministry throws a New Year’s Eve party, all Draco can think about is his midnight kiss...
Rating: PG-13 for language and kissing
Warnings: Slightly OOC
Author's notes: Yay, I finished! I really hope you like it recipient. I tried my best to include everything you asked for and I hope I succeeded. :D I would like your honest opinion. And everyone else… ENJOY!

Mod Note: You can also read this story on Insanejournal. Please leave feedback for our talented authors!


That was the first word that came to Draco’s mind as he stared around the large ballroom inside of the Ministry of Magic. They’d decorated everything in blinding shades of gold. Golden candles, golden tables, golden curtains draped over the windows…

They even had golden silverware. The place was like an Egyptian tomb, for Salazar’s sake.

The hue, though vivid, was not nearly as dazzling as her, however.

Hermione Granger stood, her back to him, in a white gown, brown curls flowing down her back, the slight amount of frizz that she was never able to tame shinning in the candle light.

His mouth went dry.

He’d seen her earlier, offered a discreet nod, but hadn’t said a word. It was safer that way. They’d been together for longer than he would have ever thought possible but only the two of them knew. Secrets, not lies, they always told each other. It was just better, simpler, if the rest of the world didn’t know about their relationship.

For now.

But still, he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. She was gorgeous and he wondered why he hadn’t ever seen it before. Cut that. He knew why; his family’s misguided, erroneous, over-glorified notions on blood superiority. Distorted values that he was taught, and had once believed, but that were now history. In the most literal sense.

The war was over and had been for nearly a year. The rebuilding was nearly done and the Wizarding World was, once again, standing back on its feet. The only thing left to do was help the people, help society. Those wounds were still a bit too fresh. Hence the party; a New Years celebration hosted by the Ministry. A function to help unite the past and the present.

He felt the heat of Potter’s stare before he saw him. Their eyes met, just for a moment, too long for either to feel comfortable. He knew he’d been caught staring at her again, but he couldn’t quite summon the energy to care. Instead, he gave a twisted smirk, leered at her for a second longer, and finally made his way to the other end of the room to chat up the head of the Department of Mysteries.

It was nearly ten p.m. on New Year’s Eve and everyone had dressed to the nines. Even Weasley had managed to look halfway decent; presentable enough to make it into the building anyway.

Two more hours to go and then he could ditch the bloody party and head back home to his big, warm bed, where Hermione would no doubt be waiting so he could have his wicked way with her.

That was the plan at least. A damn good one, too, if he said so himself.

But two hours! He couldn’t wait that long. He didn’t want to wait that long. And Draco Malfoy was used to getting what he wanted.

Granger was at the top of the list.

It would be easy to get her alone, drag her to some secluded area in the Ministry and do oh-so naughty things on some stranger’s desk.

He had to swallow just thinking about it.

As smoothly as he could, Draco ended his conversation and excused himself to the loo. He wasn’t really going to the loo. At least not alone.

His route was strategically planned to lead him right past her and as he gently pushed his way through the throng of people, his fingers lightly danced across the top of her beautiful arse, the wispy material of her dress sending sparks through his finger tips.

She tensed, only for a second, and he knew she got the message. Cockily he strode towards the bathroom, a mischievous smirk in place. She was watching him, her eyes narrowed, wondering what he was up to. She’d find out soon enough.

There was only one man in the loo when Draco poked his head in. He was muttering to himself and furiously scrubbing at his tie where a large red spot stained the front. Not even close to midnight yet and already the guests were getting wasted enough to spill their wine on themselves.

Letting the door swing shut, Draco held his spot outside and watched for the fuzzy brown hair coming towards him. She didn’t act suspicious in anyway but he could tell she was nervous. They’d never really interacted much in public together, the risk of someone finding out their secret too great. But he was sick of hiding her. Sick of hiding himself.

He moved himself in the tiny nook by the bathroom door. She noticed, smiled at people she passed by, and finally squeezed in beside him.

And then he kissed her, dragging her body as close to his as possible. She started to let out a protest but his mouth kept her quiet and eventually she melted into him. The kiss only fueled the fire, though.

“Draco, stop, what are you doing?” She whispered, her mouth still near his, still wanting the connection.

“Fuck, Granger, you look so good tonight. This dress is delicious. You shouldn’t have worn it.” He growled.

Hermione let out an almost silent laugh. But he could feel her blush as she rested her cheek against his own and he knew she liked the compliment. He didn’t do it as nearly as often as he should have and he was determined to rectify that.

“If you like it so much, then why shouldn’t I have worn it? I think I got the reaction I wanted.”

He squeezed her hips.

“Yeah, from me and every other bloke in the room. They are all looking at you, you little minx. This should be for my eyes only.”

He slowly stroked his hands up her sides, his thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts. Her body shuddered but she pulled away slightly.

“I can show this to whomever I want Draco Malfoy, and no one, certainly not you, will stop me.” He loved the determination in her eyes, the fight she felt whenever he pushed her, even just a little.

“I love when you get angry.”

He kissed her again and though she didn’t want to, she forced him away.

“Draco, seriously, we can’t do this here. Anyone could see.”

He sighed, knowing she was right. But he wasn’t defeated yet. He would have her and she would like it.

“Let them. If you are going to show off in that dress, they might as well see the rest of the show, too.” He was joking, egging her on, and they both knew it.

“If you don’t behave you might not even get to participate in the show later on.”


She laughed and the sound felt just as good as if she were to stroke him through his pants.

“Hermione, I’ve never had a midnight kiss. You’ll be my first.”

She batted at him with her hand and he caught it in his own.

“There won’t be any kissing when the clock strikes twelve tonight. We are in the middle of the Ministry.” Her chiding, though light, was completely serious. When the seconds counted down and everyone waited on bated breath, they wouldn’t be able to kiss and cheer with the rest of them. The war might have ended but people weren’t ready to see Hermione Granger, sympathetic war hero, and Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater, together.

“You know I only wore this for you.” She whispered, bringing him away from his saddened thoughts.

Their eyes met, her cheeks still slightly pink, most probably from alcohol, and his glazed over with lust and other undefined emotions. She gave him a peck and he held her in place to take more. But, finally, she managed to untangle herself from his arms and, resolutely, he let her go.

She left and he watched her, knowing she thought she’d managed to escape. But he was a sneaky little snake and he’d get her back. Soon enough.

Hermione grabbed a chute of champagne from the waiter that walked by. She downed it in one gulp but still, her heart hammered, her blood pounded, and her abdomen tightened. Draco always had that effect on her. He was a wicked man, that one.

She wished she could stay with him, wished she really could give him his midnight kiss, but it wasn’t possible. Revealing their relationship would be disastrous, especially on a night like this. Though the pretenses were for unification and peace, the tension in the room was only barely covered by the haze of alcohol. Wizarding society was not ready for the acceptance of former Death Eaters, even those who had made amends for their crimes. And to see one of them dating a member of the Famous Trio?

It would be too shocking for them to handle. Right now, anyway.

Hermione knew that, in the end, her friends and family would support her. But that road would be long and hard and she didn’t think anyone was ready for it yet. There was still too much to do, too much to worry about. Harry was busy trying to help the new government get settled, Ron was working with the Aurors and basking in the light of fame, and she was helping to reestablish Hogwarts as the top Wizarding school in Europe. Not to mention everything else.

Draco was her release. Her unexpected saving grace. She’d never tell him, but she didn’t think she could live without him. The war had been brutal and she and her friends had gotten the worst of it. And he had been there, at the opportune moment, the perfect time, when she needed him most. She’d resisted. So had he. But in the end, it was never about them. And yet, that was all it was about.

It didn’t matter how it happened, all that mattered was it had. And they were happy. Completely irrational, possibly mentally unstable, but happy.

The next hour flew by, more guests arriving after late dinners and evening parties. The ballroom became filled with boisterous laughter and chattering company. There was an orchestra, the four players all ghosts, floating in the background, offering a cheery tune to the crowd, though no one was really listening.

Hermione conversed with various Ministry officials, all whom she remembered, none that she really cared to.

Draco tried to make more moves but she stealthily avoided his grabby hands, thwarting his evil plan to drag her away and ravish her to pieces. That would be a problem. Because once it got started, it wouldn’t end.

More time gone. Midnight would arrive soon.

Ron grabbed Hermione around the shoulders and ushered her over to his table. Harry sat, cheeks pink and a tired smile on his face. She understood. Post-war life was… difficult. Tiring. And the parties were often too much. For Harry the most. He hadn’t even been certain he would survive the final battle. And then he did. But now to pick up the pieces. Now to live a normal life.

Now to be the Boy Who Lived Twice.

Harry was strong, though. One of the strongest people she’d ever met. He would pull through, like always.

“Hey, ‘Mione, having fun?”

“Of course. I simply adore the quartet playing.”

They all shared a laugh at her disregard for the party itself. It wasn’t that she wasn’t enjoying herself. There would have been a time when Hermione Granger would have died to be able to pick the brains of some of the most infamous and intelligent wizards and witches in Europe. But she was tired. A long-lasting, bone deep, soul stretching exhaustion that hadn’t left her in many years.

She just wanted to go home.

Or at least, get away for a moment.

“Hermione, you remember that report I was telling you about earlier? The one describing the debate between officials at the last Death Eater trial?” Harry asked, a glint in his eyes and she immediately understood. She nodded. “Would you be willing to go grab that for me? It is in the conference room on the fifth floor. I want to show it to Seamus but there isn’t any way I’m pulling myself out of this chair.”

She gave him a relieved smile.

“Of course, Harry.”

It was just an excuse and they both knew it. He didn’t need a report. Hell, Seamus wasn’t even around. But he was giving her an out. Just for a bit.

Hermione made her way to the elevator, kindly dodging any attempts to catch her for a quick chat. When the sound dinged and she slipped through the doors, she couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

And the second the doors closed, she felt him.

Draco was a genius. He wasn’t afraid to admit it.

The plan worked like a charm. Hermione fell for the bait like a starving piranha. Swooping off the invisibility cloak, Draco revealed himself to her, a smirk already in place.

“Fancy seeing you here, Granger.”

She nearly let out an uncharacteristic squeal but caught herself just in time. He couldn’t help it; he laughed.

“Draco Malfoy, what in the name?”

“I was hiding.”

She stared him down, that disbelieving look shinning in her pretty brown eyes.

“Okay, I was waiting for you.”

“What?” She furrowed her brows, confused. “How did you kno-“

“Sh. Don’t bother.”

He was on her then, body pressed against hers at every curve. His lips were so close, so close, but not nearly close enough.

“I want my midnight kiss.”

“I told you, we can’t.”

“In front of the others, we can’t.”

And then he reached over and pushed the bright red button. The one that abruptly stopped the elevator, locking it in place, hanging above five floors of nothing but air and hard ground.


“Now no one will see us.”

“We can’t stay in here for… fifteen minutes.” She said, glancing at his silver watch over her shoulder.

11:45 on the dot.

Sighing, Hermione let herself melt into his warmth. A small smile found its way onto her face.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” She leaned in to press her lips to his but he quickly moved back, holding her at arm’s length.

“Nah, ah, ah. Watch yourself, Miss Granger. It isn’t midnight, yet.”

“Oh you can’t be serious?”

“Afraid so, darling.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. He’d dragged her into the elevator to have his way with her but he wasn’t going to? Until midnight?

“And what if I said I don’t want to kiss you at midnight.”

When his face should have fallen, it rose, his lips quirking into a bright smile that definitely reached his eyes.

“Too bad.”

He grabbed her again and buried his face in her neck. She felt the sharpness of his inhale as he breathed in her scent and the action sent shivers down her spine. Then his lips joined the party, massaging her flesh in sweet, sweet torture. His hands skimmed her body over her dress, his sighs of pleasure matching her own.

He was good.

“Draco, I don’t want to wait.”

“You’ll get over it.”

She tried to maneuver herself to get a glance at his watch but he held her firmly in place. He wasn’t going to let her see how much time they had left, that arsehole!

His assault on her senses continued as he murmured the sweetest words to her and they skimmed over her like a silk blanket sliding across her skin as she slept. His lips danced across her chin and neck and forehead and everywhere except where she wanted them.


Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. It was almost time.

“Nine.” She whispered back.


He brushed his hands through her curls.


She arched her chest into his.


He tightened his hand on her waist.


She clenched her eyes together, tightly.


He brought his head up, and met her eyes.


Her lips parted on their own accord.


He leaned in closer, closer, closer.


And then they kissed.

The fireworks exploding all around the Ministry, the cheering from two floors down, the dizzying celebrations all around the world were nothing compared to the passion felt when their lips met at the stroke of midnight. Tongues stroked, mouths sealed. Adrenaline rushed through them and seconds turned into hours, hours into seconds.

It was so intense that neither of them heard the ding of the elevator doors opening.


Hermione and Draco froze, mouths still locked. They opened their eyes, stared at one another, and slowly, ever so slowly, turned to look at their audience.

And what an audience it was. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Blaise, the Aurors, Ministry officials…

They hadn’t even felt the elevator move. Didn’t know how the release button was hit…

“Well, now we know why the elevator was stuck.” Ginny said, a bright grin on her face.

“What?” Hermione muttered.

“We heard the alarm. For the elevator. Came to check it out. Didn’t think two people had used it as a shagging booth.” Ron said, giving them one last disgusted look before moving away with a blonde on his arm.

Hermione and Draco stayed perfectly still, arms wrapped around each other, nerves and uncertainty paralyzing them in place. They were just caught making out like teenagers in an elevator at the Ministry New Year’s Eve party!

Ron was too drunk to care, Ginny was quite pleased, but Harry… Hermione’s eyes met his as he stared at them in a lustful embrace.

“Harry, I-I ‘m with him.” She took a deep breath. “I love him.”

That was news to more than Harry. Draco’s heart pounded faster in his chest and his mouth went dry. She loved him?

There was silence for one beat.

“I suspected as much when I caught him stealing my invisibility cloak and then he convinced me to send you to the elevators so he could have ‘alone time’ with you.” Harry said as nonchalantly as if he were telling her the weather report.

She gaped at him, and then at Draco, and back to him.

Harry just shrugged.

“Well, what are you all doing? Leave ‘em alone so they can have their, er, alone time, then!” Ron yelled, still trying to move away, his drunken slurs echoing in the quiet room. It wasn’t quiet for long, everyone bursting into laughter at his suggestion.

The crowd dispersed, people giving not-so-sly winks as they walked away. Harry smiled, just a bit, and left as well.

And then they were alone again.

Draco looked at Hermione. Hermione looked at Draco.

He reached over and pushed a button. The doors closed.

And as they did, Draco’s mouth closed in on hers once more.

“I love you, too.”
Tags: 2009, draco/hermione, pg13

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