Cormac groaned and apparated to his flat with a soft pop. It was late as fuck and all he wanted was to go home to the flat he’d painstakingly gotten after moving out of his parent’s house two years ago. It was close enough to the ministry to walk, but he hadn’t felt like walking with the day he’d had.
He hadn’t seen Hermione all day and it was usually the one thing that kept his spirits high while dealing with Ministry nonsense. Word had it that she was off with the Aurors on a mission or locked in their dark arts library helping their research efforts, but he wished neither were true.
Whatever the reason for her absence, he didn’t give it another thought and waved the door unlocked, too beat down to fish for his keys. He opened the door, closed it behind himself, and fell back against the door with a relieved sigh. There was something therapeutic about being able to close the door and shut out the world outside. After years of sharing a room with four other blokes and living in a house with his parents, he was more than grateful for his own space.
“Hello, Cormac,” his eyes popped open at her voice, “Long day?”
He couldn’t fully figure out what he was looking at standing in his foyer with that little smirk on her face that should have landed her in Slytherin.
The little minx.
Hermione Granger stood stark naked in nothing more than a pair of those exquisite stilettos that he’d harbored a secret love for ever since she introduced them to him on one of their sans-magic dates. He couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t think as every drop of blood rushed south and his intellect left him.
Her skin glowed a deep, rich brown and gold in the soft light coming from the kitchen. Her legs seemed to go on forever in bright red heels. The patch of thick curly hair at the top of her thighs called him forward and to his knees. The scar that wrapped around her hip made his mouth water. Her full breasts might have been the easiest thing to process. Her hair was down the way he loved seeing it and full of neatly formed curls from strange contraptions that Hermione wrapped in her hair when she was feeling fancy.
Strawset the word came to him from a memory that was too innocent for the fact that she was fucking naked and standing in his foyer. How long had she been waiting for him to come home? He remembered giving her free reign of his space, but this was not what he suspected when she finally came over or got naked.
Apparently, he had never dreamed big enough.
She laughed, “Hungry?”
He growled at her as she sauntered to him. She took his hand, “I made dinner. You want to eat first or feast first?”
“What brought this on?”
“You’ve been such a good boyfriend. I decided I was ready.”
He cursed and lifted her off the ground. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her heels dug into his back deliciously. His ears were ringing with how fast his heart was pumping. He felt almost dizzy with how quickly he got hard.
“Feast. Definitely, feast.”
She laughed as he carried her to his bedroom and kissed the air out of her lungs. He didn’t know what he’d done right, or if it was a collection of things, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.
“Thank you,” he gasped, trailing kisses down her neck as he lowered her onto his bed. He threw his robes over his head as and sunk to his knees between her legs.
She gasped as he spread her legs and licked his lips.