14 | Langlock

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C H A P T E R  F O U R T E E N | Langlock

spell. glues target's tongue to the roof of their mouth.

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TO SAY THAT PANSY WAS EXCITED FOR THE APPOINTMENT WOULD BE AN UNDERSTATEMENT.

She's woken Hermione three hours before the appointed time, but at least she brought a mug of tea with her.

Hermione sips at the warm liquid; the spices of the tea tickle her taste buds in a pleasant way. The white steam rising from the pool between her palms drifts toward her face, instantly warming her cheeks.

Pansy sits across from her, gossiping about the drama that ensued yesterday and last night. At the end of her tale, she exhales loudly and sits back in the maroon armchair with a slouch. Her dark eyes focus on Hermione.

"The time I've spent with Ronnie has been the happiest in my life," she says, "But if we find out that he is the father, I understand what needs to be done. That baby deserves the best shot at a good life, and I promise to be the best stepmother any kid has ever had. I won't let you, or Ronnie, down."

Hermione smiles at the other woman; they're truly becoming the best of friends. Who'd have thought it possible? But then again, who'd have foreseen her encounter with Draco that past winter? Either way, she's happy that all of this has happened. For better, or worse, it has given her new perspectives on many things she'd never have thought twice about.

After chatting a bit more so Hermione can finish her tea, Pansy heads out. She says she has some errands to run, but Hermione suspects she's out doing more shopping for the baby. While she is thankful for the interest and abundance of clothing she will have amassed by the time of the birth, she can't help but wonder where she is going to place everything. If she takes the job offer from McGonagall, she will be given a house in Hogsmeade. But, she also has quite a bit of money saved from when she sold her parent's home right before the war.

She sighs as she pushes her worries to the back of her mind for the time being. She needs to get ready for this appointment.

Hermione gathers her clothes; a knee-length navy-blue skirt, knitted stockings, and a thick sandy cashmere sweater with undergarments. Then, she heads to the dormitory washrooms to take a shower and tend to other personal matters.

Inside the rustic washroom, she glances around to assess who exactly is in the room. Though her belly is just slightly bulging at this point in her pregnancy, it's enough so that when hidden behind a thin towel, the bump is much more noticeable. It's quiet, though. Thick, white clouds of steam rise from one of the showers near the back portion of the washroom. This person doesn't seem to care that they're now sharing the same proximity, so Hermione walks toward one of the other showers on another wall, leaving the other person to their privacy.

She closes her eyes, enjoying the sensation of the almost volcanic water to wash over her. Her skin erupts into goosepricks in response. After a few minutes of pure self-indulgence, she hurriedly gets through the rest of her routine before reluctantly shutting off the water. She dries her hair, wraps the towel around her, and proceeds into the now-seemingly-chilled washroom. She glances to the shower across the room to see that the shower has been turned off and the curtain pulled back.

"Hermione?"

Her head turns so she's looking forward and her eyes lock on Draco's as he stands before her.

"Draco?"

He is only dressed in a black towel, which hangs elegantly around his hips. He looks reminiscent of an ancient Roman god. Most of his white-gold hair has been pushed out of his face, all except one single strand who refused to budge from its place right above his left eye. This strand drips a droplet of water, sending a minute bead to fall onto his smooth chest before trailing down the rest of his torso at a dangerously slow speed.

She could have very nearly watched the whole thing, but thirty seconds is more than enough to whet her appetite.

I would do anything to kiss those lips, she thinks with lust in her heart, thankful that he cannot read minds.

Her eyes drift to Draco's silver irises, and something in her lurches her feet forward. Without hesitation, Draco closes the gap between them and they embrace in a sensuous way. His lips reach hers, almost desperate for the contact. She eagerly moves to match his hunger. They back slowly into the shower stall she previously occupied before stripping off their towels entirely. One of them turns the knob just off to the right, allowing the hot water to flow freely over them.

In the privacy, she's craving his every touch, and she can tell that he's absolutely ravenous with desire as well. The next twenty minutes can't pass by slow enough.

When they're done, the washroom is still empty, and they're free to dress without interruption. Hermione doesn't notice Draco's lingering stare as she pulls on her articles of clothing, so she isn't prepared for when he begins reciting his revised version of Shakespeare.

"But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Hermione is the sun."

He gives her a grin before buttoning his shirt up.

Hermione's lips lift in a smile.

"You know Juliet responds with telling Romeo to denounce his father and the family name so they can be together forever, right?"

Draco doesn't say anything, but his grin morphs into a soft smile, and he stares at her in a way that makes her heart flutter. He steps close to her before planting a kiss on her forehead.

"Have a good day," he mutters before leaving her to finish dressing.

Hermione leaves the washroom a few minutes later where she is reminded of her reality - she is expected to be at the ultrasound in an hour. She heads to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast of two crumpets, butter, and jam, and when she is done, Pansy arrives just in time to drag her off to the OB's office once more.

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