Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10811538.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Character:
      Hermione_Granger, Draco_Malfoy
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Sexual_Content, Bondage, Explicit_Language, Heterosexual_Sex,
      The_Quidditch_Pitch:_Erotic_Couplings, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot,
      Erotica, Second_War_with_Voldemort, Masturbation
  Collections:
      The_Quidditch_Pitch
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-06-08 Completed: 2010-09-11 Chapters: 6/6 Words: 29809
****** An Honest Mistake ******
by Mctwist [archived by thequidditchpitch_archivist]
Summary
     Amortentia: The most powerful love potion in the world. And, as Draco
     Malfoy soon finds out, also the most dangerous; the kind that keeps
     you coming back for more, even after you think it's all over. Loads
     of Dramione smut. You've been warned!
Notes
     Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at
     The_Quidditch_Pitch, which went offline in 2015 when the hosting
     expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open
     Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began
     importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April
     2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted
     announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or
     know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on The
     Quidditch_Pitch_collection_profile.
***** Chapter 1 *****
                               An Honest Mistake
 It was a beautiful evening at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Exams were fast-approaching for its many students, but with the weather the way
it was, they couldn’t help but feel hopeful for the summer that was surely just
around the corner.
Three such students were in the Great Hall that night, eating dinner. Hermione
Granger, her best friend Harry Potter, and her on-again-off-again-it’s-fucked-
up-and-I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it love interest Ron Weasley were all
enjoying roast potatoes and smoked pork.
Through a full mouth, Ron asked, “Hermione, you don’t think that you can help
me with my Potions essay, do you? Slughorn might not mark as hard as Snape but
I’ll be damned if I can figure this one out.”
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “You’re on your own for this one. I’ve got
Potions of my own to do.”
Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. “What? I thought you finished that
essay weeks ago.”
“I did, Harry. If you must know… Professor Slughorn is allowing me to make-up
the credit I lost to… that book of yours today.”
 Harry sighed. He hadn’t stopped hearing about the goddamned book all year, why
couldn’t she just give it up?
 Hermione pulled a small vial of a translucent liquid out of her bag. Harry and
Ron knew the potion well, as they had just been making it that day.
 “You brewed more Amortentia already?” Ron asked incredulously. Harry nudged
him, and he remembered who he was talking to.
Hermione shrugged it off. “Professor Slughorn said that if I could remake the
potion better than the first time, I’d receive full credit. Since not all of us
have evil potions books to help them cheat their way through the class, I
decided to take advantage of the opportunity,” she said with a huff.
Harry smiled. “Well, you could have just asked. The Prince has a great recipe
for Amortentia that seems to work a lot better than yours.”
 “I don’t CARE about The Prince or his recipes! I’ll follow the book, thank you
very much, and for your information, this is brewed perfectly, I checked.”
She stood up and turned to leave. “I’m going to drop this off at Slughorn’s
office. I’ll meet you back in the Common Room.”
Harry and Ron shrugged. They might have followed her if she was in a better
mood, but they’d much rather keep their distance when she wasn’t. They waved
and set off in the opposite direction, toward the Gryffindor Common Room.
 
Hermione was striding past the Slytherin table, potion held close to her chest,
not looking at any of them, when suddenly she ran right into Blaise Zabini, who
was quite a bit taller than her. Of course he had stepped out in front of her,
but she couldn’t imagine why.
 “What the hell, Granger! I’m gonna have to wash these now!” Blaise whined, and
wiped some invisible dirt from his robes.
 Hermione ground her teeth, and prepared to push past him, but she had barely
moved before Blaise had snatched the vial out of her hands and, knocking her to
the ground, turned to have a whiff.
 “Oooh, what are we brewing here Ms. Granger? A love potion to snare some
pathetic blood traitor? My, my, how the mighty have fallen. Well, it won’t work
on me, Mudblood!”
 Hermione just groaned. She had fallen rather hard to the stone floor, and so
as she regained her senses, she failed to notice that a drop of the potion went
into Draco Malfoy’s pumpkin juice. Staring into space, his food untouched, it
seemed that Draco had other things on his mind as well.
 Hermione stood up and pulled out her wand. “Now is not the time for games,
Zabini. Give me the potion!”
 Much to her surprise, he just handed it to her. She looked at him
suspiciously, but carried on her way. She vaguely heard Blaise sitting down
next to Malfoy and encouraging him to drink his pumpkin juice. She strode out
of the Great Hall and down the corridor. The halls were mostly empty; students
were either back in the common rooms, eating dinner, or out enjoying the start
of what looked to be a fine Friday evening.
 Several minutes passed as she walked down the halls, lost in thought. She was
still stewing about how much of a jerk Blaise Zabini was when she knocked on
the door to the main potions classroom. Receiving no response, she found the
door unlocked and entered.
 The classroom was deserted. Several potions, from previous lessons, Hermione
assumed, sat brewing on the desks. Only dim candlelight stopped the dungeon
room from being utterly dark.
 “Professor Slughorn?” she called out. No reply. She stepped forward to the
door to Slughorn’s office, located at the back of the class. She knocked
timidly. She was unsure why she seemed so unsettled to find the classroom
deserted, after all, most of the staff were currently taking dinner, but she
didn’t see him at the staff table while she was in the Great Hall.
 Her knocking had gone unanswered so she spoke through the door. “Sir, it’s
Hermione Granger. I brought the potion you asked me to make up.”
 She was contemplating just leaving the vial there with a note when she noticed
a shadow appear by the entrance to the classroom. She whirled around to find
Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway.
 They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Hermione felt
severely suspicious, he was just… watching her, and not in a flattering sort of
way, though she never expected that from him. There was a glint in his eye that
hinted at something that made Hermione deeply uncomfortable. Without any taunts
in his voice, or a delighted smirk on his lips, or cruel laughter in his eyes,
Malfoy looked, well, he looked different, Hermione thought. She would never
admit to herself that he looked good, but she’d never seen him in this light
before. Frankly she figured it was because she had never had a good chance to
look at him without being embarrassed somehow.
 But now, something was different. He just watched her, and she him, and after
a long while, she said “What do you want, Malfoy? Professor Slughorn’s not
here.”
 He seemed entirely nonplussed by this news as he stepped forward, toward her.
 Her voice rising an octave higher than its usual.“What do you want, Malfoy?”
 But still, he strode forward, the same strange glint in his eyes. It wasn’t
something she’d seen before. He didn’t look dangerous, it wasn’t a mean look,
in fact his face seemed entirely expressionless, but it made her knees quiver
slightly nonetheless.
 He kept advancing until he was only a foot away from her. And then in a slow,
silken voice he murmured, “I want you, Granger.”
 Hermione gasped, half in embarrassment, half in shock. Clearly he was toying
with her. If Ron Weasley couldn’t even appreciate her, she didn’t know how
on EARTH Draco Malfoy could. No, one doesn’t suddenly jump ships like that. He
was playing with her for some reason, and she would find out why.
 She pulled out her wand and pointed it at him. He hesitated. “What do you
want, Malfoy?” She asked again, her voice cold and insistent. She tried to keep
an edge of pleading from it, unsuccessfully.
 “You know, you’re making this unnecessarily difficult,” he said softly. “All I
want is you. Now. On this very table, even.” He gestured to the grouping of
desks beside him.
 She looked into his eyes again. They seemed particularly bright, a swirling
silver instead of the usual dull, steely grey. She tried reading them, to see
if there was anything in them that would give his intentions away. And upon
second glance, she did notice something in his eyes.
 The glint, she had seen it before. She saw it in Lavender Brown’s eyes every
time she looked at Ron. It was lust. And he was looking at nothing but her. She
racked her brains for why, why this could be.
 And it dawned on her. With slow horror, she raised the vial to eye level, and
sure enough, a miniscule amount of the potion was missing. That son of a
bitch. Hermione was rarely prone to cursing, but with Draco Malfoy in front of
her, under the effects of a love potion, she felt it would be
appropriate. Momentarily, she considered another possibility. Here she was,
alone in a classroom with Draco Malfoy, who was (and why lie to myself anymore,
she thought) one gorgeous hunk of meat. And also, infatuated with her to the
point of bursting thanks to the most powerful love potion in existence.
 Next, her mind flitted to Ron. She toyed with the idea that this would be
dangerously close to her becoming unfaithful to Ron, but really with the things
Lavender had probably done to him, she wasn’t too concerned. She rolled her
eyes and ground her teeth. Possibly seeing the look on her face, Draco stopped
his advances. While she considered the ramifications of having a very horny
Malfoy alone, he had closed the gap between them, without her even realizing
it.
 She automatically took a step back and scurried across the class to look for a
potions’ textbook. She needed to find an antidote. She’d rather not have to
explain to Madam Pomfrey that Draco Malfoy was under the effects of a love
potion. She’d die of embarrassment first.
 Searching the cupboard, she was utterly unaware that Draco had come up behind
her until she could feel his hot breath on her neck, and his hands roaming
across her waist. It made her hair stand up, and she shuddered involuntarily.
 She spun around and attempted to force him away, but instead his lips crashed
to hers. He was ferocious; his desperate need clear from the passion of his
kiss. It was then that Hermione decided not to bother looking for an
antidote. Why not?She pushed thoughts of Ron from her mind, relaxing into the
feeling of his lips against hers.
 Sensing her change in stance, Draco’s passion doubled. His tongue had slowly
worked its way around her lips, and Hermione found herself responding in
altogether un-Hermioneish ways. Why the hell not? He’d never tell a soul about
this anyway. She smirked into his kiss and returned it as best as she knew how.
 Draco was close enough that she could feel the bulge in his trousers.
Fortunately there were no robes between them, the summer weather having forced
all of the students to dress as lightly as possible.
 Despite the tension in his pants, Draco didn’t seem quite ready to let loose
just yet, and this suited Hermione just fine. She moaned very softly and stood,
bracing herself against the cabinet behind her, as Draco kissed and sucked ever
so slightly at her neck. He was kissing her so quickly, and so lightly, but
each time his lips met her skin, it was like fire, so intensely hot it was
cold, and another part of her body ached in response. She quickly turned to the
door and cast a locking spell as well as a silencing spell. This was not
something she wanted to be interrupted in.
 She attempted to unbutton the blouse she was wearing, fumbling with the
buttons, her hands shaking from nerves. She gave up as Draco’s steady hands,
guided by Amortentia, easily undid the buttons down her front. Gradually he
trailed the kisses lower and lower, down the shallow indentation of her
collarbone, and across the swell of her breasts, pert and well formed. Her back
was practically arching toward him, and it seemed that at long last, she too
was in desperate need.
 Draco paused in his kissing to look up at her. She looked down to see why he
had stopped, and noticed the simple black bra that had momentarily halted
Draco’s advances.
 “Surely you can manage that much, Granger.” A ghost of a smirk passing over
his face. 
Even under the effects of the most powerful love potion in the world he can
still be an ass, she thought with a sigh. Her hands still shaking, she gave him
a pleading look.
 “Very well.” He did not particularly seem to mind the opportunity to reach
behind her back and unclasp the bra. Hermione let it fall to the floor, along
with her shirt. Even before it had reached the ground he was upon her. She
gasped in pleasure as his tongue found one of her nipples, while his fingers
lightly danced around the other. Draco pushed her gently back, so that she was
leaning over one of the desks, and soon she was lying flat on top, her legs
dangling over the edge. She was seeing stars; the amount of pressure Draco was
applying as his tongue swirled round was causing her to shiver.
 He switched to the other nipple, and she moaned again, low and steady, as he
sucked gently on it, flicking the other with his index finger. By now, her need
had become paramount, and she was about to order Draco to continue when he
stopped and began trailing kisses down her abdomen. Apparently he couldn’t go
on teasing her forever. This made Hermione feel at least a little more
comfortable, the thought that Draco couldn’t completely control her. Her skirt
was worn low to protect her modesty, the curves of her hips clearly visible. He
traced along the lines with his fingers, cold and dexterous. By this point he
didn’t even bother asking her to dignify herself enough to remove the skirt on
her own. He yanked it free and down her legs, only a pair of black panties
between Draco Malfoy and what he wanted.
 Hermione, despite being in a sexual haze, still noted blissfully that her
choice in underwear that morning had at least saved her some embarrassment, as
the dark colouring had nicely hidden the large wet spot that had developed. She
knew that Draco had spotted it as he stuck his thumbs in her waistband and
smirked, but he pulled them down without comment.
 Hermione braced herself. She was unsure of just how much of this she could
take. Before she knew it, Draco had slipped a finger inside of her, and as he
gently bent it, slowly forcing it in and out, a moan of ecstasy escaped her
lips. She waited, waited, for what she was sure was coming.
 But it never did. She looked up to see Draco standing back, a self-satisfied
smirk on his face as he unzipped his trousers. They quickly hit the floor, his
boxers soon following. And with dawning horror, Hermione realized that he was
only semi-hard.
 Wow. Alright then. Maybe he does have complete control over me, she mused as
she sat up, got her legs, and then dropped to her knees.
 “You’re a quick learner,” he grinned at her as she approached his large
member. She attempted her best confident smile and replied, “What makes you
think I haven’t done this before?”
 He laughed instead of replying, and Hermione decided that trying to banter
with him would get her nowhere. Going on instinct mostly, Hermione took Draco’s
cock in her hands and slowly began to slide it up and down. When he leaned back
slightly, and his breathing quickened, she grew more confident, using one hand
to traverse the length of his shaft until he grew fully hard.
 She stepped back to admire her handiwork. Hermione had admittedly not seen
much of the male anatomy in her day, but from all that she had gleaned, and
from her impressions alone, she was impressed. She did not even allow herself
to think of what the fallout of all this would be. She needed that dick in
front of her, and as it stood, she would do whatever she needed to get it.
 Shimmying forward slightly, still on her knees, she looked up at Draco. He
seemed amused and expectant, as though he could guess what was coming but never
saw it happening. She dropped his gaze and slowly lowered her lips to the tip
of his cock. There was an instant response as it twitched between her lips, and
she assumed that she must be doing something right as she lowered herself
further over him, testing the feel of it in her mouth. She pulled up slightly,
and Draco inhaled sharply, and then again lowered her lips down his shaft. She
figured this was about the extent of it (no need to get fancy and have thing
ends early, she thought), and picked up the pace. She would focus just on the
head for a time, and then work her way back down the shaft again, Draco
groaning all the while. This went on for a time, and Hermione concluded that
she didn’t abhor the experience, at least not to the extent that she thought
she would. Plus having Draco under her thumb like this was a sort of sadistic
pleasure all in itself.
 Suddenly, his hand stroked her face, and by the look in his eyes, she knew
that it was time. She could see the hunger there, the desperate need. He lifted
her back onto the desk and she lay flat, preparing for whatever pain, pleasure,
or world-ending catastrophe could follow. She was about to have sex with Draco
Malfoy, after all, the boy who had spent the last six years of his life
taunting her at every opportunity.
 Her last thoughts were well, this isn’t so bad, really, before her world
exploded. Hermione was in sensory overload. The pain, overwhelming at first,
quickly died, to be replaced by immense pleasure, as Draco slowly began working
his way in and out, trying to find a rhythm. This was an epiphany. Hermione had
never experienced anything like it in her life, like a veil had been lifted
from her eyes. There was a whole realm beyond her imagining, and it
was beautiful.
 Draco seemed to have experienced a similar vision, and his pace increased. He
groaned as he stretched her legs apart to accommodate more of him, with one
hand bracing himself on the desk, and another resting on her abdomen, the thumb
periodically pushing into her clit. Her eyes were closed, her face scrunched
up, beads of sweat rolling down her forehead. It wasn’t particularly hot in the
classroom, but the pleasure made it feel like her body was a million degrees,
like she could burst into flames at any minute.
 Hermione gasped in outrage as she felt Draco’s thumb leave her clit. She was
about to sit up as she felt Draco’s now warm hands lifting her legs. She was
about to ask him what the point was when she yelled out in surprise. Draco had
been lifting her legs so that he could fit more of his length within her. He
was now completely inside her, she could feel his smooth skin against hers, and
felt the gentle slap as he began rhythmically pounding into her with his full
length.
 This was twice as good as before. Draco would pull all the way out, to the
point where the tip was only barely inside of her. She would moan, beg for him,
and then he would slam back in, his cock fully re-entering in one fluid motion.
It was the height of pleasure, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to hang
on much longer.
 It progressed for several more minutes, heightening, building, until, quite
suddenly, Draco pulled out and, with an animalistic cry, let go on top of
Hermione. Her breasts and abdomen were thoroughly coated. She was on the brink
of her release and she screamed for him, not caring who heard, what happened,
anything, and he frantically ground the head of his cock into her clitoris.
He watched as her lips tightened, as the shudders wracked her body, her back
arching up and down in rapid succession. He slowly pulled out the last of his
cum until all that he had to offer was on Hermione’s chest. She lay flat on the
desk once more, breathing heavily.
 Draco leaned back against the cabinet, attempting to catch his breath as well.
He grinned weakly and returned to his clothes. Hermione managed to sit up
enough to see the colossal mess that Draco had left on her body. It looked
impressive. It was everywhere. She didn’t know just why Malfoy had pulled out…
But thank god he had. She didn’t even want to think about what could have
happened if he didn’t.
 She searched for her wand, but realized that it was on the cabinet across the
way. She must’ve put it there earlier, but her memory was a blur. She dared not
move. Malfoy seemed to notice her predicament and came over and, with a flick
of his wand, cleaned up for her.
 She returned to her clothes as Draco began to watch her longingly again,
already redressed. She knew that she would have to sort out an antidote before
Slughorn got back. Again, as she searched for a textbook Draco had managed to
close the distance between them impossibly fast and was, once more, sucking
lightly on her neck.
 She heard a light cough and looked up so fast that she nearly hit her head on
the cabinet. Professor Slughorn was standing in the door.
 “Professor Slughorn! Oh… Er… Well, I can explain!”
 Professor Slughorn took a long, measured look between Hermione and Draco. A
smile twitched to his lips, beneath his bushy mustache. “No need, m’dear. I can
see perfectly well what’s happened here. I’ll correct my records to give you
full marks for today’s work.”
 “But Professor-”
 “Amortentia, expertly brewed. You can see it in his eyes, if you look closely.
You’d best be going, we wouldn’t want him doing anything… untoward to you while
under its effects. Although I daresay by the look on your face while he was
attached to your neck I somehow wonder whether you would mind or not.”
 Hermione blushed a fierce crimson as she grabbed her bag and exited the
classroom as quickly as possible. The last thing she heard before rushing down
the hall was Slughorn, in an appraising voice, saying “Draco my boy, I think
you’ve found a place at my next gathering!”
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter 2 – Seconds
Pansy Parkinson squealed rather loudly in the Slytherin Common Room. Draco
Malfoy was currently engaged in the delicate art of fucking her brains out. She
squealed again beneath him, a high shrill sound that grated against his ears.
He looked up into her admittedly brutish face and, without breaking stride,
hissed, "Can you stop that? You're going to make me go deaf with all of that
nonsense."
"But I waaaaaaaant you, Draco," she moaned, her voice high and broken from the
intense pleasure she was currently feeling. They had flipped over so that she
was bouncing on him with wild abandon, not even paying attention to what she
was doing. She always was a fucking whore, Draco thought, pulling out.
"Fuck me, Draco! Oh Merlin, PUT THAT THING BACK IN MY CUNT YOU DUMB BLOND!"
He complied, and entered her roughly, deciding that he would make her pay for
that comment. But it didn't seem to be working. The more forceful he got with
her, the more turned on she seemed to get. Fuck.
He looked up at her pug face again, and then pushed her off of him, back onto
the couch. She stuck a finger in her mouth and crossed her legs, apparently
trying to look a tease, and failing wildly. "Oooh, play rough with me, Draco!"
"Come get it," she mewled when he didn't reply, and spread her legs open,
waiting for him to get up from the couch and continue shagging her. The smooth,
pale skin was glistening in the dim light, but Draco had no desire to continue.
He got up from the couch, and turned to his clothes. He began getting dressed,
and Pansy let out an undignified gasp. She began to pout, "Draco honey, what's
wrong?"
When he remained silent, she continued quizzing him. "Is it because I'm making
too much noise? You could always gag me," she hinted seductively. He ignored
the idea, and continued getting dressed.
"Am I too tight for you or something then?" She paused when he snorted.
"Quite the opposite," he said, and stood up to walk out of the Common Room.
Pansy's face turned to hurt and bitter anger when she realized what his words
entailed.
"Where are you going?" she yelled at him, her voice shot through with anger.
He didn't reply, and instead walked straight out of the Common Room.
"Well FUCK YOU, DRACO!" she screamed, as Draco walked away. Dimly he could hear
the sounds of her pleasuring herself in the distance, finishing the job he had
become so disenchanted with.
Draco crept down the dungeon corridors. This was his specialty, exploring the
school at night. Unlike Potter, he didn't have an invisibility cloak, and so he
had to use actual skill to elude detection. By this point he had grown quite
good at it. He wasn't wandering aimlessly, as he had wanted Pansy to think. No,
he was headed to the library, because he had a hunch.
He just hoped he was right.
===============================================================================
Hermione Granger couldn't sleep. She had been fighting with Ron again that day,
his temper worse than usual thanks to what little inkling he had of yesterday's
events. Hermione didn't feel particularly guilty about them, but Ron, ever the
hypocrite, had still managed to make her feel bad, even though she knew full
well that Lavender was all over him all the time. To make matters worse, the
previous night was on repeat in her mind, looping endlessly as Draco Malfoy
fucked her over and over and over again. She hated to admit to herself, but she
was turned on. She had tried to take care of it herself to get back to sleep,
but that just wasn't happening, not with a dorm full of girls around, and
Silencing Charms only doing so much, she decided to do what she always did when
she couldn't get something out of her mind: Homework.
Hermione buried herself in Arithmancy homework, but soon found herself in need
of additional books. This was the problem with doing homework in the middle of
the night…
As she deliberated over what to do, she found her thoughts turning back to the
previous night. All of the new things she'd experienced, not least of which the
way Draco treated her. That certainly was a new experience. Not quite an equal,
but about as close to it as anyone gets when Draco Malfoy is shagging them,
anyway.
Of course she hadn't said a word of it to Harry or Ron when she got back. No,
they had clearly noticed her ruffled collar, disheveled hair, and the marks on
her neck, but they said nothing. Harry acted like he noticed no change, but she
saw the amusement and curiosity in his eyes. If only he knew who it was, she
had mused. Ron on the other hand… Well, he was Ron. His ears went red and he
sputtered incoherently, but it would be the very death of him to ask, so he
didn't.
She herself was intent on ignoring it to the best of her abilities. The problem
was that those abilities didn't seem to be good enough. Her experiences with
Draco were among her first, and it can be said that he did leave
an impression. One hell of an impression, she thought to herself, hopelessly
trying to dispel the imagery from her mind.
She shook her head, as though trying to physically force the thoughts out of
her mind. She pulled the covers back and stepped out of her four-poster.
Wearing only a small pair of red and white panties that hugged tightly to her
body, and a t-shirt, she ducked down and went through her clothes, looking for
something, anything to wear. She did not want to think about clothing (or the
absence of it) with Draco Malfoy on her brain. She found an old skirt that she
didn't wear anymore and threw it on.
She grabbed her textbooks and tossed them back in her bag and made her way out
of the Common Room. She briefly considered going to the boy's dormitory to get
Harry's invisibility cloak, but she had no idea what she would tell him if he
caught her. And she wasn't about to stop thinking long enough to figure that
out, or her mind would wander back to him, so she just hurriedly stepped
through the portrait hole, waking the Fat Lady with the lateness of the hour.
She took the stairs down to the fourth floor and counted herself fortunate not
to run into any of the various denizens of the school. She could hear Peeves
bouncing around in one of the classrooms, or perhaps it was just someone having
very, very rough sex. She dwelled on that possibility for a moment before
forcing herself to think of other things.
She went through the passageway to the library. It was quite dark, but she was
prepared for this. She sat down at one of the tables, set up her notes, and
then pulled out one of her patented jars of blue fire. She set it on the desk,
and then went to work finding the books she would need.
Finding them,  she returned to the table. She went straight to work, forcing
herself to focus on nothing but the task at hand, which was completing all of
her homework for the week ahead. She did this for a while, losing track of
time, before going to look for a book on Numerology to help her with one of her
assignments.
As she was pulling it down from the shelf, she heard a voice behind her: "Up
late, are we, Granger?"
She knew that voice. It was Draco Malfoy, of course. Of all the people to find
their way into the library at Merlin knows what hour in the morning, it had to
be him.
She was so surprised that she dropped her book. It fell to the stone floor,
making quite the racket. The noise from the classroom down the hall stopped
abruptly. Hermione braced for the worst. She expected Peeves to burst into the
library at any moment, and alert the teachers to her rule-breaking behaviour.
She snatched the book up from the floor and almost hid behind it.
After a long moment, she peered out from behind it to see Draco smirking at
her. Shortly after, the noise resumed.
"What in Merlin's name are you smirking about?" she hissed. "I could have been
caught!"
"You could have been caught." He repeated back to her slowly, his smirk never
fading.
"Yes!"
"So just you would be caught? They'd ignore me standing here and go straight
for you?"
"They're probably so used to seeing you where you don’t belong, they wouldn't
even care," she scoffed.
Draco growled. "One, not that it matters, but I haven't been caught out of bed
since first year. Two, we wouldn't be caught in the first place."
Hermione looked at him, confused, as his smirk grew wider.
"That wasn't Peeves in that classroom. By the look of things, Davies was having
his way with Chang."
Hermione felt her face rapidly reddening and she realized that she had been
right in her earlier assessment.
She almost felt embarrassed just for him. "You were watching them? You
really are a Slytherin."
"I heard them going at it," Draco shrugged. "Thought I would have a look. Sure
enough, Davies was knocking over desks with that crazy wench."
Hermione just sighed. She grabbed the book and returned to her table, doing her
best to ignore him. She saw out of the corner of her eye that he did not
follow.
"What are you doing here?" she tried to sound supremely unconcerned. She didn't
think her façade worked that well, because she could almost hear the smirk in
his voice now.
"Just out for a late night stroll. What's your excuse, Granger?"
"That's none of your business, Malfoy." She was growing red, thinking
that he was really the reason that she was here.
"Ooooh, 'Malfoy' now is it," he gestured with his hands, mocking her. "That's
not what you were calling me last night."
Oh shit, did I really call him 'Draco' during the sex? She thought. She was
trying to remember whether she did or not and all the while growing gradually
more red as his grin widened.
"Well, that was last night," she finished tersely.
"And?"
"Things are different now." Aren't they? She added in her thoughts, but she'd
dare not speak it aloud. She would not get her hopes up. This was Draco bloody
Malfoy.
Draco said nothing. He just looked at her. After a moment of silence, she
sighed. "Why are you here, Malfoy?"
"Because I want something from you."
This surprised Hermione. There were many things she expected him to do: Yell at
her, curse her, swear that last night would never happen again. She fully
expected him to call her a filthy Mudblood, swear that she would pay for the
rest of her life, and then exit the library, plotting revenge.
Instead, he did none of these things. He wanted something.
"Wh-what do you want?" she asked nervously. Hermione Granger DO NOT let this
boy push you around.
"A kiss."
"What? Why? And why should I kiss you?" Of course Hermione would be delighted
to feel his warm lips against hers, but she didn't see his angle, and there was
no way that she would give into him that easily. She would only end up looking
the fool in the end.
"Kiss me. Because I want you to. Because I know you want it and even if you
delude yourself into thinking that you don't, I can easily blackmail you into
giving it to me anyway. So it's your choice: You can do this the dignified way
and just fucking kiss me, or I can anonymously tip off Peeves that you've been
in the library all night. Your choice, Granger."
She considered this a moment. Of course she was going to kiss him, but there
was no way she'd let him have it that easy. Finally, she sat up out of the
chair. Standing there, she closed her eyes, expecting Draco's lips to meet hers
and be done with it.
Instead, she felt her skirt being unzipped. She gasped in shocked protest and
tried to pull his hands away from the zipper.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing!" she screeched. A kiss? How was this a
kiss?
Draco looked up smugly at her. "I asked for a kiss. You didn't specify where I
got to kiss you."
Any normal girl, any sane girl, would have explained that that most certainly
did not constitute a kiss, that doing that was taking things quite a bit
farther. But Hermione was not feeling particularly sane this evening. She
wanted it bad, and he knew it, and it was so easy just to stay silent and let
him have his way.
While she contemplated what to say or do, he interpreted her silence as a green
light, and he pulled her skirt down and off as she stepped out of it, more
curious than anything, she told herself. He tossed it off in the distance,
which caused her to roll her eyes at him.
Fucking thanks, Draco. I guess we know who will be making the quick escape
tonight, and I'll give you a hint: It sure won’t be me.
He picked her up, and she couldn't help but love the cold feeling of his hands
against her ass, only the thin cotton of the panties between them. He set her
on the table, and without any resistance, pulled her legs apart.
"Nice arse, Granger." He murmured. She blushed and said nothing. She was tired
of bantering with Draco, and curious to see where this would lead.
She lay back on the table, ready. Waiting.
"Ah, ah, ah." The smirk was in his voice. Fuck you, Draco Malfoy.
"I think that shirt needs to disappear first," he said, doing his best
impression of mock innocence.
She sighed and lifted the shirt over her head. She was too pissed off and horny
to really care that he was still fully dressed and she nearly naked.
He examined the sight that was her breasts. They were firm and round, they
stood quite at attention, and she awaited his touch. But of course it didn't
come. She covered her growl of frustration with a hoarse cough.
She felt his thumbs hook around the inside of the waistband of her panties. She
closed her legs once more and Draco pulled them off in one fluid motion. Sure
enough, there they were, looking outrageously small in his large hands, and she
felt the cool air between her legs. That got her going. Nothing quite got
Hermione turned on like knowing that she was sitting here, naked, in front of
Draco Malfoy, ready to be taken to very new places by the biggest asshole she
knew. But still, it didn't come. She was growing impatient now, this teasing
act getting on her nerves.
"Are you going to do this or not?"
He smiled. "Patience, Granger. You'll get all you want and a whole lot more
soon enough."
What was that supposed to mean? She didn't want to think about it. Instead of
getting on his knees or at least bending down to better access the area between
her legs, Draco pulled out his wand. Hermione felt her heart nearly stop in her
chest.
"What are you doing, Draco?" panic had crept into her voice.
His grin grew positively devilish. "Ah, so it's 'Draco' again, is it? Best make
up your mind, Hermione."
That caught her off guard. She didn't think she'd ever heard Draco Malfoy refer
to her by her first name before.
He muttered an incantation, and the end of his wand lit up, an intense orange
glow, only as large as the tip of the wand, appeared. She watched in abject
horror as the recalcitrant Malfoy lowered the wand to her skin, pushing it into
her shoulder with surprising force.
She wanted to scream, but the words caught in her throat. She choked, and
choked, and then remembered how to breathe again, and did so with a large,
howling gasp. She didn't realize how positively embarrassing the noises she was
making were until she could hear Draco's quiet laughter.
She didn't care. The sensation felt wonderful. He dragged the wand down her arm
and it was like having a cigarette do the same. It only hurt for a fraction of
a second, and then the pleasure that followed completely overwhelmed it. It
left no marks on her skin, but beneath the surface, well, there was quite a
change underway in her body.
He pushed it into her nipple until it grew completely solid, and dragged it
around her areola, teasing her. She was gasping softly, her breath constantly
catching in her throat, her attempts to control it failing spectacularly and
going completely unnoticed by Draco.
He dragged it down her right arm, and then back up again, under the curve of
her breasts and in between, and then down the middle of her abdomen to trail
lazily around her navel. It was clear by his pace that he was having an immense
amount of fun teasing her like this, and it was also clear from the look on
Hermione's face, and the soft noises that she was making, that she was greatly
enjoying it.
That's one spell I NEED to learn, she thought to herself, her mind quite
clouded.
Draco flicked his wand, and the ember at the end seemed to disappear. He
pocketed it again, and grinned at her.
She was rendered nearly incomprehensible. "How… How… Wh-what did you do to me?"
"Handy little spell, isn't it?" was all he said in reply.
"But what about you?" she managed to ask weakly.
"You'll soon find that I don't need any of that." He was still feeling the
after effects of pulling out of Pansy early. He pulled apart Hermione's legs.
She stretched them out as wide as they would go, and slid herself forward until
she was at the edge of the table.
She looked expectantly at him. Draco was looking back at her, serious this
time, only a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
"You have to take care of this mess before my face goes anywhere near there,"
he gestured to the patch of hair just above her legs.
"Oh," she said. Hermione didn't really consider it as part of her upkeep. She
might trim it down if she was in the mood while in the bath once in a blue
moon, but she wasn't used to getting any action, so she hadn't previously felt
any need. But now, she scrambled mentally to search for a suitable spell that
would do the job.
He sighed, and now it seemed that it was he who was in a hurry. He pulled out
his wand again and cast the same spell as earlier. The tip of his wand once
more glowed, and as he dragged it across that region, Hermione noticed that,
along with the intense burning/pleasure sensation, her hair
was disappearing. Soon he had covered the length of it, and she was entirely
hairless save for a tiny v-shaped patch at the top.
"Why'd you leave that bit?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"So that I won’t ever be reminded of Pansy Parkinson while I do this," he bit
out, and then lowered himself to his knees.
His hands found her thighs, and they rested there, keeping them apart as he
went to work. Of course he began by further teasing her, his lips clamping down
on her clit, pulling at it ever so lightly with his teeth. His lips wrapped
against it, and soon his tongue found its way out of his mouth, to flick it
around. Judging by the fact that the wetness had already spread to her legs, he
determined that Ms. Granger was badly in need of an orgasm.
So he gave it to her. His tongue found its way between the folds of her pussy,
and suddenly she was in heaven. She had never felt anything like it, the way
his tongue, so thick and muscular, was artfully weaving its way around her
anatomy. He pushed it in as far as it would go, and began to grind it against
her inner walls, the wetness flowing freely now. He would grind it against the
upper wall, and then draw out slowly before forcing it back in against the
sides. All the while he kept his fingers busy with her clit. It took all of
Hermione's determination to keep her legs apart, desperately desiring to wrap
them around Draco's neck in a death grip to keep him at it.
And suddenly Draco knew that she was on the edge. It might have been the way
her inner walls were pushing against his tongue, or the way she was moaning his
name, quite loudly, for any and all willing to hear. Regardless, Draco pulled
his tongue out until he was just running it up and down against her entrance at
a rapid pace, and she screamed loudly as the orgasm broke inside her.
It was nothing quite like he had seen before, at least not from that, anyway.
God, maybe Pansy wouldn't be such a loser if she came like this.
Hermione shook and gasped, her breathing irregular, low moans escaping in
between her attempts to catch her breath.
She sat up. She had a million things she wanted to tell him. But all she could
manage to do was choke out in a hoarse voice, "Why?"
"I owed you for last night," he explained, shrugging it off a little too
easily. Hermione knew this wasn’t completely true, but she wasn't about to
argue. After an orgasm like that, she just didn't care.
"But what about you?" her voice betrayed genuine concern, and she blushed as he
noticed.
"I'm getting to that. Just wait damn it." He unbuttoned his trousers quickly
and slid them down, pulling his wand out first.
Hermione began to feel nervous again. "Draco, I don't know who you've been
sleeping with, but normal girls don't work this fast. I can't just go from one
orgasm straight into another like that."
"Yes, you can, because I know how."
She slipped off the table, to her knees, seeing his cock again. It was semi-
hard from everything he'd witnessed and been a part of so far, and she could
see the precome glistening on the tip.
It didn't take much. She stroked him quickly until he was once more at his full
length, and then returned to her position on the table.
He stepped forward to approach her, but first picked up his wand and muttered
another incantation. It seemed like a black silk rag had shot from the end of
his wand, but it was decidedly more magical than that, Hermione realized, as it
wrapped itself around her thigh, firmly, but not constricting the circulation.
No, it seemed to be constricting something else.
"What's that thing 'round my leg, and why the hell can't I feel…anything?"
"Fucking patience, Granger," he snapped.
He thrust into her, and she still half expected to feel the aftershocks that
she got when she sometimes played with herself after an orgasm. But nothing
came. It was… weird. Draco was definitely thrusting in and out of her, his legs
pounding into the edge of the table, but if she hadn't been able to see and
hear that he was inside of her, she never would have known.
"You might be bored now," he bit out, never stopping his rhythm, "But don't
expect it to last. Just as soon as I'm ready, you will be too."
He growled and leaned in to kiss her, biting her lip gently while he did. Now
that she could feel. He pushed her down, scattering books and parchment all
over the floor. Neither of them cared. He leaned over again, this time to take
a nipple in his mouth. He had stopped thrusting, but as she looked down she
could see that his fingers had once more found her clit.
His tongue swirled around her nipple and though she could feel it, like she
felt his teeth on her lips, she felt numb to it. So instead she settled for
watching Draco. That was entertaining. She could do something that very few
people (Only the practitioners of this spell, she supposed), got to do, which
was look objectively at their partner while having sex.
Generally, as was demonstrated by the last time, Hermione was barely conscious
enough of what she was doing to even remember. Now, though, she could lean back
and watch Draco, watch him bite his lower lip, see the frenzy in his eyes, feel
the rhythmic pulse of his resumed shagging, but not feel any of it. It was
quite beautiful, the way the blue flames cast against his pale skin. It made
him look otherworldly. The sheen of sweat that had come with his efforts was
also reflected by the firelight, and she enjoyed it immensely. Maybe this isn't
so bad after all.
Going off the look on his face, she knew that he was getting close. She was
unsure of how this would work. Once more, much to Hermione's amazement, he
pulled out when he came. She had briefly prepared for the possibility of Draco
doing it inside of her earlier, and so had cast protection over herself while
bantering. She didn't think he'd noticed, and if he had he didn't mention
anything.
This she could feel. She could feel it quite acutely as the hot ropes of his
ejaculation landed on her skin, and suddenly, again she desired to feel. She
wanted an orgasm, and she wanted it now. She wanted to feel what Draco Malfoy
was surely feeling as he let go above her.
When he had finished, he wore his widest grin yet.
"You ready for this, Granger?"
She wasn't sure what he was talking about, but she said, "Do your worst," in as
confident a voice as she could manage.
He pulled out his wand again, and flicked it, and the black cloth whatever-the-
hell-it-was disappeared.
And suddenly she slammed her arms down into the table, and she was screaming;
howling herself hoarse. Writhing and screaming and having the most intense
pleasure she had ever experienced in all her years alive. She remembered
feeling as though her head would explode as her eyes rolled up into her head
and her vision was lost.
Everything went black.
She awoke on the cool stone floor what felt like hours later. Draco was
crouching over her, fully dressed once more. He had at least had the courtesy
to toss the clothing over top of her, to protect at least that much of her
modesty.
She sat up, the t-shirt falling away, her chest exposed again. She didn't care.
"What the FUCK just happened to me?" she demanded.
"You told me to do my worst," Draco smiled, "So I did."
She glared at him, clearly not satisfied with his explanation.
He continued, "That spell… constricts your orgasm. You witnessed the effects
yourself: Any sexual pleasure you may receive while under the effects of the
spell is stored in the darkness that clung there to your leg. It gave you time
to recover while I could have my way. Generally, to avoid a scene like what
just happened, you can release the spell gradually, allowing the pleasure to
wash back in. But since you asked so kindly, I decided to oblige, and I made
everything to return at once."
Hermione wasn't necessarily complaining. It had been dangerous, and reckless of
him, but it had been the best orgasm of her life.
She was about to berate him further when two people burst through the doorway.
Both of them armed with wands, Cho Chang and Roger Davies were quite stunned to
see Draco Malfoy crouched over a partially nude Hermione Granger.
Hermione scrambled up and grabbed wildly for her t-shirt as Cho Chang looked
away in embarrassment. Davies didn't bother averting his gaze and instead
grinned lazily.
"We heard screaming and thought someone was hurt," Cho Chang said, eyes burning
holes in the floor, the blush clear on her cheeks.
"Nope," Draco replied hastily, and Hermione looked on in mortification. "Just
really great sex."
Hermione wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out again. She punched
Draco on the arm with all the force she could muster, but Cho had already
darted from the room. Roger Davies gave her a quick wink and strolled out after
Cho, grinning.
"Never again in the library," Hermione snapped at him.
"Are you telling me there's going to be a next time?" Draco asked coyly.
"Well, unless you feel that Pansy would be a better shag…" Hermione trailed
off, gathering her books into her bag.
Draco just gave her a look, and they strolled out of the library together.
===============================================================================
 
 
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter 3- Distractions
 
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood against the wall outside in the fourth floor
corridor. They were early, but that was because to be anything but early for
Snape's class might get you a week's worth of detentions.
Hermione was not looking forward to this class at all. She didn't look forward
to any class taught by Snape at the best of times, but this would be the first
class she'd had with Draco Malfoy since… Well, since Friday night’s… events. It
had her downright nervous. Her friends didn't seem to notice it at all, but she
could almost feel the tension in the air as she stepped into the class. It only
electrified when Draco walked in, several minutes late.
His eyes didn't even stop on her as they passed over the class. His face was an
expressionless mask as he sat down, but she thought she could see a glimmer in
his eyes. Perhaps she could just be imagining things; those grey eyes could
melt stone if they wanted.
She felt herself sigh inwardly as she sat there. She didn't really expect
anything more from him, but at least he was ignoring her now. The old Draco
would have sneered at her, or teased her as he passed by. Now, just silence.
Well, it's an improvement, she thought.
When Draco had resumed his seat, Snape smiled cruelly at the class and watched
with satisfaction as it fell silent. They knew he had something awful planned.
Generally, whenever Snape was in a good mood it meant that things were about to
go very badly for everyone else.
"Counter-jinxes." He said grimly. "We're going to devote the next two weeks of
study of the counter-jinx. In times such as these, one must know how to counter
as much of their opponent’s magic as possible."
He flicked his wand up and writing began to appear on the board. "We will begin
with the theory," he droned lazily, "And then progress to practical
applications."
Hermione, thoroughly interested, began to scribble down notes at top speed.
Magical theory, this was her element. She noted that Harry and Ron looked far
less enthused, but tucked that into the tiny corner of her brain that gave a
damn what they thought about education. She'd long ago learned to live with the
fact that they weren't scholars.
Her mind momentarily wandered to Draco again. She wondered if he would be more
excited about the work than her friends were. She deliberated with herself for
a long moment, and then risked a glance backward, to the right, where she knew
he was sitting. It was where he always sat.
Much to her disappointment (and she found it odd that she was even
disappointed), Draco Malfoy sat there unmoving, his things not even unpacked, a
lazy smirk on his face. The smirk only widened when he noticed that she was
looking at him. Hermione hastily turned back around, a blush spreading across
her cheeks. Great, real tactful Hermione, she told herself.
She buried herself into the notes, trying to forget her embarrassment. It was
fortunate that her friends hadn't noticed. Harry was pretending to copy notes
and Ron looked as though it was taking every ounce of willpower to keep his
head from his desk. She noticed that Snape seemed in an odd mood. Generally he
would lecture the class endlessly about whatever subject he was teaching, but
he seemed preoccupied with something else at the time, and sat at his desk,
lost in thought, while the silent class copied the notes.
She had been drifting off, still copying the notes as diligently as she ever
did, when something strange began to happen. Her skin began to tingle slightly.
She barely noticed it at first, thought she was imagining things, and ignored
it to continue with her notes. But the feeling grew more persistent. It was
like an ice cube was drifting across her skin, and she recognized the same so-
hot-it's-cold feeling from when she was with Draco. She wasn't cold, but the
goose bumps were clear. Apparently he could do the same trick without having to
press his wand to her skin. Fantastic.
She turned around and shot a glare at Draco Malfoy. It was her warning glare;
the same glare that found its way into her eyes whenever Ron was making a joke
about SPEW, or Harry was asking her for help on an essay. They would never be
able to meet her eyes when she unleashed that death glare on them, but she
found, quite to her surprise, that Draco stared right back, smiling broadly.
The rest of the class didn't seem to notice.
She knew he wasn't going to be stopped, so she turned back around and tried to
summon as much dignity as she had, forcing herself to return to her notes and
ignore that filthy, gorgeous animal behind her.
Great, mental commentary, you're not helping.
She could outlast him. She would not let his little annoyances get to her, no
matter how hard he tried. Of course, once back in class, things would be the
same as they ever were. Some people never change. She was just beginning a
paragraph on how to counteract the bat-bogey hex when she felt her breath catch
in her throat.
Oh god no, she thought. But sure enough, there it was. The sensation that had
previously been rolling up and down her arms had no drifted lower. Dangerously
lower. She panicked. She had not foreseen this at all. He wouldn't dare. He
couldn't. But he was.
She looked very carefully up at Snape. He was still at his desk, grading papers
or doing something else equally menial. It was unusual, but she was grateful
that Draco's actions had not caught his attention.
Just then she felt a familiar sensation that she couldn't place. But the
teasing stopped. It was only then that she realized she was wet. Flushed with
embarrassment, she returned to her work.
Draco did not bother her for the rest of the class. She was determined not to
look back at him, not to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had
gotten to her. She was better than that.
Class was almost over; she kept fervently glancing at the clock, which was not
like her. Five minutes left… Four… Three…
 
And then something very, very bad happened.
Out of nowhere, she felt an orgasm building. Just as suddenly, it stopped,
fading away. Her head whirled around to face Draco, and the delighted look in
his eyes was enough to make her vision go red. He had got her, alright. She
recalled the earlier sensation, and felt for her thigh. There was no mistaking
it. A strip of cloth, most certainly black, was wrapped around it. Oh no. Oh
no. Draco, don't you dare. Don't. You. Dare.
She could practically feel his eyes on her, and she knew that it wouldn't be
long.
Be merciful Draco! She thought feverishly to herself. Yeah, fat chance.
Her hand shot into the air. She needed to get out of there now. Already she had
gathered up her books with her free arm.
Professor Snape's malevolent gaze had finally made its way up to Hermione.
After studiously ignoring her for, what like to Hermione, felt like an
eternity, he said, "What is it, Miss Granger?"
"Sir, I have to be excused! Terrible headache, need to see Madam Pomfrey
immediately."
She knew that she was out of time. Before he could protest or make a cruel joke
at her expense, she was out of the class, down the hall.
And then he removed the spell.
She screamed out, long and low, her books falling to the floor just before she
did. The pleasure was intense, traveling in waves through her body. It sent a
spasm through her, and she felt as though she were on fire, or possessed, she
didn't know, or care which. On her knees, she gasped for air. She sat there, on
all fours, for a long time, noticing that unlike with their previous encounter,
the cloth was still very much there, but this time just held loosely against
her thigh by her pants. She had no idea how Draco would contain himself, when
surely he must have heard her.
A few seconds later, Harry and Ron were on her. Ron was helping her up while
Harry gathered up her books. She realized dazedly that she couldn't stand on
her own, and that she was leaning rather heavily on Ron. She checked his ears,
and found them to be rather red.
"What the hell happened?" Harry asked.
"Really bad migraine," Hermione choked out. There was no way she would ever
tell them the truth. She managed to stand, albeit shakily, on her own.
"I just need to get to the hospital wing. Can you take my books back up to the
Common Room for me?"
"Sure."
Harry, with one last curious glance, left. Ron was more difficult to deal with.
"I should go with you, just to make sure you're okay."
"No, no, it's fine," she said quickly, "I need to stop by the bathrooms
anyway."
"Oh, that's fine. I can just wait in the hall…"
She racked her brains frantically for an excuse. The post-orgasmic haze was
definitely not helping her out here. Finally, she managed, "It's okay. Isn't
that Potions essay due tomorrow, anyway?"
Ron's face paled rapidly. She had found her trump card. He stopped walking with
her and rubbed the back of his neck guiltily.
"You don't mind?" he finally said.
"It's fine. Just go ahead, I'll see you back there later."
He waved awkwardly and left. Hermione made a beeline for the nearest bathroom.
After locking herself into a stall, she sat on the toilet and yanked down her
pants. Sure enough, she found the black cloth.
There was writing on it.
In white, chalky letters, the words: 11 PM. Prefect's bathroom. Password is
'Oleander' were written on it.
He wanted to meet her again. After that? She would go alright, and she'd bring
a curse or two with her as well.
The rest of the day flew by. Hermione sat in the stall for quite some time, and
then made her way back up to the Common Room. Harry and Ron eyed her
questioningly, but she assured them that Madam Pomfrey had just given her a
headache cure. She didn't know whether they believed her or not, so she excused
herself to go take a very hot shower.
She spent most of the rest of the evening helping Ron with his Potions essay.
Soon enough, it was approaching 10:30. Ron and Harry decided to go to bed. They
bought her excuse about staying up to do Arithmancy easily enough (they didn't
question her when it came to Arithmancy), and so she was free to leave the
Common Room to go to the Prefect's Bathroom without incident.
She was paranoid, constantly checking over her shoulder to make sure that she
hadn't been seen. Therefore, it was with great relief when she arrived at the
painting of the white elephant without being detected. She spoke the password
softly and stepped inside.
Her wand was out, but, in truth, she was unprepared for the attack. She had
expected to find Draco there, lolling about somewhere, waiting for her to yell
at him, perhaps curse him, and then have glorious makeup sex on whatever flat
surface was available. That had been her plan.
Instead, she found herself thrown up to the ceiling, unable to move. She stared
down at Draco Malfoy, who stepped out of the shadows, toting his wand, grinning
broadly. It was probably the happiest she'd ever seen him. He disarmed her
quickly and then stood, still smiling, and announced:
"We're going to do things my way, this time."
Was this his way? She supposed she didn't mind, though she had to wonder how
she'd be able to have sex with him, glued to the ceiling.
She didn't have to wonder long, as she floated back down. Facedown, resting
just above the ground, her nose brushed the floor. She found that she still
couldn't move, however, and disarmed as she was, being able to move would have
only eased some of her nervousness, rather than provided any effectiveness in
wreaking the revenge she had planned for Draco Malfoy.
Flip me over, you git!
She didn't like how silent he was being. She also didn't like that she was
unable to speak at all. It made her deeply uncomfortable that he seemed to be
looking at her a little too closely. A blush involuntarily formed on her
cheeks. For the moment she was grateful to be facing the stone floor, so that
he couldn't see.
She felt herself rising up slowly, until she was half a meter or so clear of
the floor. She rotated slowly, only catching a glimpse of the bare walls before
she was lying, now face up, on the floor. Hooray.
"Well, Granger. Judging by the way you keep going cross-eyed, I'd say you have
an itch that needs scratching." She did not miss the double meaning.
He smirked his favourite self-satisfied smirk, and brushed a finger across the
bridge of her nose. He let it trail down her cheek, and she felt as he pushed
slightly harder as it found its way down her neck, choked as it made little
circles around the base of her neck and her collarbone.
"So, Granger, did you enjoy yourself today?"
She gritted her teeth, but that was all she could manage. She hated not being
able to speak.
He smiled down at her. "I thought you might. Good thing you didn't black out in
the hallway. Might have left Weasley a little worried for your health..."
She knew that he was goading her. She ground her teeth a bit more.
"In fact," he said, as his fingers found the buttons of her blouse, "I think
it's Weasley that has to look out for his own health, what with that beast he's
shagging now, who knows what she's carrying around."
Hermione didn't particularly appreciate the implication, but the fact that he
referred to Lavender Brown as a 'beast' greatly contented her. Perhaps more
than it should.
She waited with eager anticipation as he continued removing the buttons. He
pulled the shirt wide, her abdomen and breasts exposed to the cool air of the
room. She reacted instantly, much to her embarrassment.
Draco ignored this, and continued the steady trail of her body with his icy,
merciless index finger. It ran long laps around her chest, just above her
breasts, broad circles beneath them, and finally, he was trailing his finger
slowly around her navel.
She was fired up by this point. It frustrated her deeply that Draco had not
advanced yet. She was expecting him being all over her by now, like the the
last time. Instead, he'd barely even got her shirt off. What gives, Draco?
His fingers traced a slow, slow descent to the button on her pants. She wanted
desperately to shiver, but found herself unable to move.
He unzipped the pants, and pulled them down very quickly. They made it to her
knees. She was quite wet, but Draco ignored this, instead standing up and
turning around.
"You know," he said quietly, "I think it's a nice night for a bath."
No.
But he did. Safely outside of her peripheral vision, he undressed, making sure
to toss his clothing where she could see. She heard him sink slowly into the
water of the pool with a sigh. She was dying over here. There were a dozen
things that she needed to do, not least of which was shag his brains out, but
still, unable to move, she was left helpless, to listen to Draco, naked, swim
laps around the pool. She found her imagination frolicking wildly in a field
full of naked Malfoys.
This has got to stop.
She lay there. And she lay there. And longer still, she lay there. She wasn't
sure just what the hell Draco was doing, or how a male could take that long of
a bath, but she was left to brood in silence for quite some time.
Finally, a shadow passed over her face. Of course it was Draco, and of course
he had given her a world-class view. Her eyes lit up hungrily and he grinned
down at her wolfishly.
"Like what you see?"
And, Merlin, did she ever. Her eyes raked over the translucent paleness of his
skin. The light of the bathroom threw shadows over the contours of his chest,
and she could see the etched features, displayed quite brilliantly. When did he
get so strong? She thought in awe. Her fingers ached to touch his hard chest,
his defined abs. She wanted grip his broad shoulders, his muscular arms. Her
eyes trailed slowly down his torso, and finally landed on the, ahem, most
prominent feature of his immaculate anatomy.
She stared up as his erection loomed over her inert form. He turned away again,
and she felt herself despair.
"Tell you what, Granger," he said, off in the distance. "I'll let you go free.
I'm feeling merciful. If you don't try and go for your wand."
She waited. She could hear the shrug in his voice when he said, "Shagging a
body-bound witch isn't any fun anyway. I imagine it's like fucking a corpse
post-rigor-mortis. And I'm not much one for necrophilia."
She felt her limbs unfreeze, she felt the warmth running back through them,
felt her heartbeat in her ears. It took her a moment to gain her legs, but when
she did she was charging at Draco, forgetting her wand entirely.
"You git!" she yelled, pounding on his chest. "You foolish, selfish prick!
How dare you leave me there!"
He looked more and more amused as her ranting continued, and even though he
held his wand, he didn't attempt to stop her. Instead, as she continued beating
on him to the best of her abilities, he set his wand down. Her voice rose a
pitch as he swept her legs out from underneath her and scooped her up, but she
continued berating him.
Finally, he said "Granger."
She stopped and looked at him.
"Shut up."
And he tossed her, still fully clothed, into the pool. She flailed about below
the surface before her head finally poked above the water. She gasped and
spluttered, as though she was trying her hardest to speak, but no words were
coming out.
She gave up trying to convey her emotions with words, and instead settled for
just glaring at him. He only grinned in reply, quickly slipping back into the
warm water.
She knew, even before he swam up to her, what was going to happen. He wrapped
his arms around her shoulders beneath the water and kissed her. Their noses
pushed against each other, but neither would break the kiss. She knew then, in
that moment, that the rest of the day hadn't mattered in the least to either of
them.
She shrugged her shirt off desperately as they kissed, she didn't care that it
floated away, she didn't care that she had lost her pants earlier while being
thrown in. All that mattered was getting the remaining clothing off. Soon her
bra and panties had joined her shirt. Her pants were Merlin knows where. But
she didn't care. He was the focus of all her attention.
He pulled her slippery body up the stairs and then pushed her down into them.
She ignored the pain.
"Here?" she asked nervously.
"I prefer heated marble to cold stone, yeah?" he growled.
She didn't protest.
"Turn around," he ordered. She spun so that she wasn't facing him. She was on
all fours, supporting herself on the stairs, completely naked, her ass in the
air. And then she felt it, and the world went quiet. Draco skipped the entire
preamble, and just went straight to fucking her. She figured the teasing must
take a lot out of him, too, even if he did get some kind of odd pleasure from
it.
Her eyes bulged slightly with the first stroke. He wasn't taking his time with
it at all, and he wasn't being gentle about it. Last time, Draco eased himself
in gradually so that it didn't hurt her, but little spots of colour were
appearing before her eyes now as he wedged himself deeper, fast.
She began to protest, but he silenced her, smacking her ass. She wasn't quite
sure what to make of that. The pain was raw at first, but the tingling
sensation left afterward wasn't entirely unpleasant.
"Fuck you, Draco," she snarled through gritted teeth.
"Will do." She heard him growl again, and he slammed his hips into her with
such force that she went elbows-first into the stairs. She cried out in pain,
but he ignored her, continuing.
His long fingers, cold and skilled, had a firm grip on her hips while he
worked. He was practically holding her up, and considering how hard his
fingernails were digging into her skin, it was a good thing he was; otherwise
she would go crashing into the stairs again. Her limbs were weak enough as it
was from the thrashing Draco was giving her.
Before long she was rocking back into him, matching his pace so that they
thrust into each other. It sent pain and pleasure through her body each time
they collided. Draco seemed to be in frenzy, and she was dimly aware of the
fact that she didn't mind at all. This was sex at its best.
Their rhythm grew faster, more ragged, with each desperate for their own
release. Faster, and faster, and faster. Draco was grunting loudly, thrusting
into her with as much force as possible. She responded with equal fervor.
Finally, he came. He didn't pull out this time, and Hermione had a momentary
heart attack until she remembered that it was safe. She had already performed
the necessary charm earlier in the day, so she relaxed and enjoyed the feeling
as Draco unloaded inside her. She decided she liked the feeling once she
convinced herself that it was harmless. She could feel her own orgasm building
steadily, and Draco was forcing himself to give it to her. Fortunately she
wasn't too far behind him, and she let out a little cry of passion as she felt
the waves of pleasure building inside her, overwhelming her. Her orgasm was
upon her, and she slumped forward into the stairs as it consumed her. Draco,
satisfied with her response, pulled out.
They lay there like that, half in the water, the air scalding the parts that
weren’t in the water. Hermione couldn't tell whether it was sweat or water that
coated her, she imagined a bit of both, but she decided to take a few laps to
cool off. She was vaguely aware of spotting her bra floating off in the corner
of the pool. She ignored it as she swam around slowly, acutely aware of how
weak she felt. Draco just lay in the shallows, breathing heavily.
She pushed herself up over the edge of the pool to get out. She knew that she
was flashing Draco quite spectacularly as she dragged herself out of the pool,
but by this point she didn't care. Nothing he hadn't seen before, anyway, she
thought, and it surprised her to find this to be true.
Rather than fish about for her clothing, she found her wand, tossed lazily
against one of the walls, and used it to summon her clothing. She sounded quite
ridiculous saying 'Accio panties!' but it was faster than getting them out by
hand. All of her clothing landed in a wet heap by her feet.
She used an incantation to quickly dry them off with jets of hot air. When they
were reasonably dry, she did the same to her hair and the rest of her body. She
couldn't help but react to the heat, drawing comparisons to the spell that
Draco had used on her, but she ignored it and forced herself to stay in
control. She could wait another night.
Draco was still lazing about in the pool as she redressed. His pale body
shimmered below the surface, glorious in the dim light.
She smiled shyly at him. "I think I like it when we do things your way."
His air of smugness instantly returned. "Better get used to it," was all he had
to say, winking before Hermione swept around and strode out the portrait hole.
*~*
 
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter 4 – Secrets
The June haze was rapidly beginning to work its way into the heads of the
students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Thoughts of summer
consumed them, and the end of the term drew ever closer. The trio, however, had
greater concerns.
It was another balmy June morning, with all the promise of intense heat later
on in the day. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat in the Great Hall for breakfast,
though they were hardly eating. The news that Harry would be accompanying
Dumbledore on the search for the Horcrux had had the trio talking since, trying
to guess at what it would be and where it would be hidden.
"He said Voldemort liked to make his Horcruxes personal things, right?"
Hermione asked. Harry nodded his assent. "Well then doesn't it stand to reason
that it might be something from the orphanage? What if he returned there,
pretended to be interested in adoption maybe, and they didn't recognize him?"
"You really think he just decided to make a Horcrux in the middle of an
orphanage?" Ron asked.
"Well… No. But he doesn't have to, does he? He could have had it already made,
and was just looking for a place to hide it."
They considered this while the post came in. In the usual cacophony of owls
however, Hermione noticed something strange. A silvery owl was heading straight
for her, a letter in hand. It didn't look familiar, and it couldn't be one of
the Daily Prophet's owls.
She watched it curiously as it came to a graceful landing on the edge of the
table. It held out its leg, turning its beak up toward the ceiling, as though
it disdained the idea of having a person remove the letter. Hermione freed it
and the bird barely glanced her way before taking flight once more.
She turned the letter over in her hands. It was unmarked, and the envelope left
unsealed. She risked a glance at Harry and Ron, neither of whom had noticed
her, as Ron was reading aloud from a letter he had just received from Charlie.
She quickly ripped the letter out of the envelope and looked it over. The cold,
meticulous script stared back at her. Only a single line was written on the
page, in deep blue ink:
'Meet tonight on the 7th floor at 12:30 if you want to keep your secret.'
Her heart rose into her throat. She'd forgotten (or rather tried to forget)
that she had been walked in on because they had heard her screaming at the top
of her lungs during orgasm. The humiliation, and the fear, was enough to make
her blush involuntarily at the table. She took a deep breath and read through
the message a few more times, but still couldn't discern whether it was Cho or
Roger Davies. The writing was almost in block letters. It was impossible to say
who wrote it. She suspected Davies, the pervert. She sighed and folded the
message away.
Hermione resolved to go. She had no choice. Regardless of who it was, or what
they wanted, she had to go, or her tryst with Draco Malfoy would become public.
And the chances are that she would be killed immediately. She shuddered to
think of how Lucius Malfoy would react if he knew what his son was doing with a
Muggle-born girl.
The day passed with out incident for Hermione. Strangely, Draco wasn't present
for any of their classes. She wondered what he was doing, if he was sick, or
just skipping, and whether this would affect her chances of seeing him again
tonight. Hermione would never admit it, but she needed Draco now. Life without
him inside her wasn't life at all.
She halted her thought process there. Not a good idea to get that worked up
when there's nothing to be done about it. Regardless, she sighed at the thought
of going a night unfulfilled.
Really, Hermione? She thought. Control yourself. You don't need to have sex
with Draco Malfoy every night to feel alive.
But she did. She couldn't lie to herself. When she was with him she felt better
than she ever had in her life. It was incomparable. She didn't understand him,
and she didn't want to, just as long as it meant they could keep this up. She
didn't even want to think about the long summer alone.
Elsewhere in the castle, Harry was finishing his last class of the day. He
stepped out into the crowded hallway, with Ron at his side.
"Binns is mad if he thinks I'm going to do all that," Ron said, groaning about
the heaps of homework they had been assigned.
"Why the bloody hell are we even taking this class still?" Harry muttered. His
scowl deepened further when he saw someone approaching them across the hall. It
was Roger Davies, his usual careless smirk replaced by an odd seriousness.
"Davies looks like he'd plow through the whole hall just to get to you," Harry
muttered.
"He's probably just busy concentrating on not running into anything. Takes all
his brain power," Ron whispered back.
Harry stifled a snicker as Davies approached. He took one quick, disdainful
look at him before he said, "Tell Scarhead to take a hike."
"Whatever you want from me, Harry can hear about it," Ron said firmly.
Davies glanced at Harry and sighed. "I'm not going to tell you anything more,
but I know something you don't know. Something the both of you would be very
interested in knowing. You'd best ask your friend Hermione about it, as I have
an appointment in the third floor bathroom with Miss Weasley."
He departed with a wink before Harry could curse him. It was no secret that
Harry didn't like Roger Davies. Everyone had always assumed it was because Cho
Chang had hooked up with him after Harry, but in reality, it was because he had
been hitting on Ginny at every opportunity he got. And since they played
Quidditch against each other, those opportunities arose a lot more than Harry
would like. Ron stood there spluttering, his entire head turning tomato-like in
hue.
They went to dinner that evening to find Davies there as well. He grinned at
them and Harry fought the urge to hex him across the room. So Harry and Ron and
Harry proceeded to fill Hermione in on Davies cryptic message. She felt cold
panic course through her veins. She knew that he was testing her, so it must be
him. But he wouldn't. He wouldn't dare tell them. Maybe this was just a bluff
to scare her into giving him what he wanted.
But she knew that she couldn't assume that. This was a warning that if she
didn't show up tonight, she would be fucked, and not literally.
"So," Harry said, finishing the story, "What the hell was he talking about?"
Hermione's eyes went wide. Her mind elsewhere, she forgot that she was supposed
to be making up a story. She stumbled, "Uhmmm… I really don't know. I think
he's trying to make it sound like I know something about… er, Ginny. He's just
trying to get back at you guys because he's an asshole Ravenclaw."
Harry gritted his teeth. "I'm going to hex that slimeball into a slimeball."
Ron made similar threatening remarks. Hermione wasn't really listening. She was
too relieved that they hadn't suspected her lie.
The night passed slowly, agonizingly. Hermione attempted to distract herself
with homework, but this wouldn't do. She was caught, blindsided by Davies'
treachery and helpless to the slow burn of her need for Draco. Damn them both,
she thought. She hated that she had somehow become dependent on both of them.
Draco for sex, and Davies for keeping his mouth shut. The former was thankfully
becoming a common occurrence and the latter was entirely impossible. Great.
Harry and Ron went off to bed around 11. She made an excuse about continuing to
work, which they of course bought. No one ever questioned Hermione when it came
to homework. It was about time she took advantage of that, she thought.
She tried to continue doing homework, but when she found herself checking her
watch every minute and a half, she decided to continue knitting SPEW garments.
She'd given up on the possibility of actually improving the house elves
conditions long ago, but it was still a nice excuse to do some knitting,
something she found quite relaxing.
She found herself blinking, her vision flitting between the needles in front of
her and darkness. The last thing Hermione remembered was resting the needles
against the chair.
She blinked again. Checked the time. 12:20. She went to pick up her needles
again before her eyes flew back to her watch. 12:20. FUCK! She had fallen
asleep! Hermione practically jumped out of her chair and raced to the portrait
hole, cursing herself. She had ten minutes to get to the 7th floor or Davies
would rat. She knew he wouldn't wait for her. If she wasn't there at exactly at
12:30, he'd be gone.
She whispered harshly at the Fat Lady to wake up, and she did, and rather
reluctantly allowed her to step through, and then she ran for the staircase.
Hogwarts was a school that was an absolute nightmare if you were in a hurry.
She fiercely envied Harry right now, with his masterful command of the secret
passageways and shortcuts of the castle. She was stuck on the stairs, which had
decided to reverse direction. I bet I'd be there by now if he was navigating,
she thought sourly.
But she couldn't possibly bring Harry into this under any circumstances. He
didn't need any more incentive to kill Draco. And really, did she? After all
the things he'd done to her, here she was, desperately fighting for the right
to keep shagging him. Before this thought could go any further, however, the
staircase stopped with a jolt and she rushed out onto the seventh floor, not
even pausing to check her watch.
Davies was waiting there, around the corner, out of sight. He heard her coming
and stepped out into the hall. She was tempted to curse him and flee back to
Gryffindor tower, but she took a deep breath and steadied herself instead. It
would do her no good to curse Davies. That would only turn him against her. She
had to find out what he wanted from her. She had a suspicion twisting around in
her stomach, and she hoped she was wrong.
"Oh, I was hoping you'd show up," he grinned when she approached him.
She scowled in reply, standing with her arms folded across her chest. "What do
you want?" she snarled at him.
He raised his hands. "Now hear me out. You know that I know exactly what you
and young Malfoy have been getting up to-"
"Do you?" Hermione shot back. "Do you have any proof? You don't have anything.
You saw something, but there could be plenty of logical explanations."
Davies stood there, listening to Hermione's desperate attempts at
rationalization. His grin grew wider as she spoke. Finally Hermione glared at
him. "What?"
"See, this is the best part, Granger. I don't need to be logical. I don't need
to have proof. Show them evidence. This is gossip. If I let this go to the
right people, it'll have spread around the school in a matter of hours. There
doesn't have to be any truth behind it."
"That's bullshit." Hermione replied, but she knew it sounded half-hearted.
Davies shook his head slowly, still smiling. He began to recite, "Someone once
said, 'People are stupid; given proper motivation, almost anyone will believe
almost anything. Because people are stupid, they will believe a lie because
they want to believe it's true, or because they are afraid it might be true.'"
The logic of what he said stopped Hermione cold. The possibilities all suddenly
rushed into her mind, and it nearly dropped her to her knees. The students
would believe anything, especially when it came to Draco Malfoy. And where
would that get her? She'd be a social pariah, and then what if Lucius found
out? Surely he would. The students would all tell their parents. Word would get
around. She'd be dead.
She looked at him, and then said slowly, "What do you want from me?"
He smiled. "Not much. I just want in on what Draco's getting."
Hermione realized she'd been holding her breath. She let it out with a sigh and
then sucked another one in deeply. She felt sick. This is what she'd been
dreading.
"What do you mean?" she said weakly.
"One time only. A threesome with Cho. That's all. Do that, and I'll forget this
ever happened."
"Oh, is that all? You couldn't keep your mouth shut to save your life," she
said, gritting her teeth.
"Well it's not really like you have a choice, do you? So what's it gonna be?"
said Davies, his voice growing more pointed.
Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed it at Davies. "You wouldn't dare."
He smiled at her, mocking. "Do what you will. Unless you hex my lips off, you
can't stop me letting the whole world know how Draco Malfoy makes you scream."
She took a step forward, her wand wavering. He let out a small laugh. "There's
nothing you can do."
"No, but there are oh so many things I can do," a voice growled behind him. He
whipped around, and there was Draco Malfoy, striding toward them with his wand
pointed straight at Davies.
Hermione ran past Davies to him, and he pushed her behind him. Where the fuck
had he come from? She thought. It didn't matter now. Draco would know how to
deal with this. Dealing with blackmail wasn't really one of Hermione's talents,
and she'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much.
He strode straight up to Davies, remarkably quickly, and pushed his wand
straight into the area of Davies' shirt where his heart must be. The Ravenclaw
boy looked utterly stunned.
Draco kept his wand at Davies heart while he spoke in a low, measured voice, "I
don't know what the fuck you're trying to get her to do, but you can forget it.
You will never speak another word about this, and if I so much as catch wind
that you may, I will find you and kill you where you stand. Doubt that and risk
your life."
Davies, who had grown significantly paler, put his hands up in a gesture of
defeat and began to slowly back away.
There was a noise from nearby. It was hard to make out, but it sounded like a
child yelling. Hermione recognized it instantly. A house elf. What in the name
of Merlin would a house elf be doing on the seventh floor at this time of
night? It suddenly clicked.
Kreacher.
She heard Peeves' wicked cackle and knew that the ghost must be fighting with
the elf somehow. How had she forgotten that Harry had just put Kreacher in
charge tailing Draco everywhere? This was very, very bad.
"Draco," she hissed, grabbing his arm. He didn't look at her, his eyes and wand
trained on Davies, who was staring down the hall at the source of the noise.
"Ah, ah, ah," Draco said as Davies turned to bolt. He raised his wand once
more. "Remember, breathe a word and I'll end your life." A bolt of red light
shot from Draco's wand and Davies dropped to the stone floor.
Draco flew past the body on the floor, and Hermione ran after him. They were
heading back to the main stairs, which was probably a bad idea, but at least it
would put seven floors between them and Peeves. He wouldn't go after them.
They got to the stairs and rushed down them, carefully navigating their way
down the ever-shifting staircases. Finally, Hermione stopped to breathe. They
were safe on the stairs as they shifted. She was standing behind Draco now. He
seemed lost in thought.
She spun him around, and on a complete whim, pushed her lips to his. His eyes
widened and he pulled her closer to him.
"Missed me?" she teased, kissing him again.
He broke off just to say "Not a chance," with a smirk before his tongue was
once more in her mouth. She fought against it and pushed her own tongue into
his mouth.
She was consistently amazed by how good his mouth felt, and took every
advantage to explore it properly. This wasn't the Hermione Granger that
Hogwarts knew. This was a new part of her reserved specifically for Draco
Malfoy, and he seemed to be enjoying it immensely.
He was crushing her against him as she sucked on his upper lip, when the stairs
came to an abrupt halt. Hermione would've been thrown to the floor, but Draco
had her in a death grip against him, and she didn't move an inch.
Draco made to step down the stairs to the floor below, but Hermione pulled him
back. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. Their lips met again, and she
breathed, "I'm not done with you yet," before lowering herself to her knees
with a sly smirk.
"Oh, hell, Granger! On the stairs?" It was her turn for her eyebrows to go up.
"Granger?" she said, beginning to zip his trousers up again.
"Old habits die hard," he said quickly, putting her hands back on his trousers.
She could feel him, rock hard, through the material. She smiled in mock
sweetness.
"That's better." He looked around, instinctively checking if they were being
watched as she unzipped his trousers once more.
"This is crazy, but I am definitely not complaining," Draco said. "Just thought
I'd voice that out loud."
"Noted," Hermione said, before returning her attention to removing his
trousers. She noticed that his knees were shaking slightly as she slowly
lowered his pants to the floor. She smiled at the state his boxers were in.
Dark dots of precome were numerous, and they were stretched to the breaking
point against his erection.
She swatted his hands away as they went to the waistband. He began to open his
mouth in protest but then thought better of it and closed it. Hermione looked
up at him.
"You're a quick learner," she said with a smile. Before he could reply, she had
slipped her hand inside of his boxers and was gripping him gently. He leaned
back against the marble railing.
When he was fully hard, she began to pull the waistband down, ever so slowly,
until the boxers were completely down and his hard-on was fully exposed. The
cool air of the castle was preferable to the stuffy corridors and hallways.
Hermione hadn't even broken a sweat yet.
Yet.
She began by stroking him, tugging gently up, as though milking the precome
from him, and then stroking down, until her fingers had left her shaft. She
followed this pattern, letting her fingers dance across his skin. It was like
there was a tiny current in each of her fingers, and each time she touched him,
there was a small shock across his nerves.
She was on fire and she knew it. She decided to make it more interesting for
the both of them. Taking her hands away from him, he looked down at her
sharply. He relaxed when he noticed that her hands had gone to the buttons of
her shirt. He watched hungrily as her cleavage slowly came into view, and then
was pleasantly surprised when she reached behind and unhooked her bra, letting
it fall to the floor.
Hermione gave a small gasp as her nipples became instantly hard in reaction to
the cool, damp air. She took each between a finger and thumb and rubbed them
quickly, ensuring they were at full extension. Draco moaned low in the back of
his throat and reached forward.
She held him back. "Not just yet," she whispered. He might have protested, but
she had already lowered her lips to the tip. With the way she was swirling her
tongue around the head, Draco forgot entirely about the world. She used one
hand to grip the base of his shaft and several fingers were splayed across the
area below. Her lips, meanwhile, were hard at work, circling the head and then
eventually enclosing most of his shaft as well.
She thought that since she had a free hand, she would put it to use. She cupped
her breast and massaged it slowly. She was tempted to place it between her
legs, but she was determined to wait. So instead, she focused on Draco with a
single-minded intensity.
The precome was salty against her tongue and lips, and it was flowing freely by
this point. She ignored the implications, sucking greedily, never letting a
drop spill. She forced herself to take more and more of him, until there was
hardly room for her hand anymore. She held it for as long as she could and then
let him go completely free.
He gasped as the cold air once again hit his now-throbbing cock. He instantly
reached forward to continue where she had left off, but he wasn't fast enough.
She had already seized it and was stroking him furiously.
"-Mione," Draco gasped. "Going… to come-," he grunted again and she only
stroked harder, until he was groaning as he came all over face. Surprisingly
little got in her hair, though Hermione didn't mind. A simple cleaning spell
would remove it, the very same spell she was using on the stairs behind her.
As for the come on her chest and face, that was a different story. Draco
watched in a post-orgasm ecstasy as Hermione dragged her index fingers around
her body, scooping the come to ensure that all of it made it into her mouth.
She rose to her feet, putting her bra back on, but not bothering to clasp it
again.
As she was buttoning her shirt, Draco turned to her, and in between short
breaths said, "Fucking Merlin. Where did you learn to do that?"
"I'm a quick learner, too," was all she said, smiling at him again.
They departed from the stairs much later than anticipated and reached level
ground once more. They were on the first floor. Draco began to drag her toward
the passageway that lead down to the dungeons, but she resisted.
"What? You can't seriously be done for the night, can you?" he said, question
in his eyes.
"We should do it in the Great Hall," she said, her eyes lit like there was a
spark behind them.
His eyes widened. "Has someone slipped you a potion? What's wrong with you
tonight?"
She smiled. "Nothing's wrong. I just thought we could make things interesting.
It's not like anyone's ever in the Great Hall at this time of night. The ghosts
don't even go in there because it's so big and empty."
"You would know, eh?" he said with a grin.
"Yes, if you must know I find it a very relaxing place to do homework when
unable to sleep. I asked the ghosts about it ahead of time, of course."
"Sure, sure. Are we gonna do this or what?" Draco's momentary uncertainty had
completely vanished before the prospects of sex with this extremely horny, and
dangerously confident Hermione.
She grabbed and pulled him toward the antechamber that lead to the Great Hall.
He did not need to be pulled. He reached the massive doors before she did and
slowly cracked one open. He poked his head inside, but the hall was completely
silent.
Draco opened the door wide enough for the both of them to squeeze through and
then closed it silently behind them. It was the Great Hall as he had never seen
it before. The clear June night had ensured that stars were shining through the
enchanted ceiling. Between that and the plentiful moonlight, there was easily
enough to see by.
"Where do you think we should go?" she whispered. She didn't know why she was
whispering.
"Dunno," Draco said, and when it reverberated back from the walls, she realized
that that was why.
"Sorry," he muttered. "Say the Slytherin table?"
"Ravenclaw is closest. I can't wait that long." They quickly walked toward the
Ravenclaw table. Hermione reached it and sat on the bench, quickly taking off
her trousers.
"Up," Draco grunted, motioning for her to sit on the table. She proceeded, and
lay flat on her back, staring up at the beautiful ceiling.
There was no disguising the enormous wet spot in her panties, and she didn't
try. Instead she began to rub herself through the material, pushing her middle
finger along her entrance. It came away sticky. She held it out for Draco to
suck on. He licked it clean for her and gave a satisfied moan at the state of
her panties.
"You know," Hermione said, "This is where Chang and Davies are going to be
eating breakfast."
They both grinned. "Good," they said in unison. There was no time to further
comment, Draco was already hard at work, pushing against Hermione's wet
entrance through the material of her panties.
"Oh for Merlin's sake, take them off!" she groaned at him. He smirked and
complied.
She leaned back and couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips as his tongue
dragged its way across her pussy. It'd echoed back through the hall but she was
far past the point of caring. She pushed his head deeper into her and she
arched her hips up to meet his tongue. She saw sparks in her vision when his
lips clamped around her clit.
"Oh… Draco. Draco, harder. More. I need you inside me," she moaned. "I need you
now. Quit fucking around and start fucking around." She sighed, "That doesn't
make any sense, does it?"
He nodded his head, utterly bewildered. Her head snapped up, "Why aren't you
fucking me yet?"
Draco looked as though a flying brick had hit him. His shock didn't last long.
Seconds later he was undressed, as Hermione threw her bra off and tossed her
shirt. She didn't care where they went just as long as she was naked.
She lay back and he spread himself on top of her. He kissed her hard and fast,
all across her lips and mouth, and guided himself into her. She wrapped her
legs around his thighs to get more of him inside of her, and breathed heavily
on his neck.
"Fuck me until you die," she whispered.
"That might happen sooner than you think," he said. Before she could even
consider this, he pulled out and thrust back in with stunning force, sending
Hermione reeling. All thoughts of Draco's cryptic response were gone.
He picked up a steady rhythm and hammered into her. Their sweat mingled at the
contact between their flesh. Hermione was pulling him close on top of her,
moaning. Draco was straining against this, trying to gain more length to fuck
her harder. It was a constant battle.
Finally, Hermione had had enough of fighting for dominance. "Get up," she said.
Draco looked at her, but pulled out and stood on his knees on the table.
"Lie down," she ordered. He questioned her with his eyes. "Trust me, you'll
like this."
He lay down on his back on the table. His cock pointed straight up to his
chest, precome pooling on his abs as he waited for her. He looked up to see
what she was doing. She was kneeling, her legs on either side of his chest, and
was lowering herself down. She reached for his cock, giving it a few gentle
strokes before placing it at the opening to her pussy. She guided it in and put
all of her weight down on it, slamming into Draco's pelvis.
He gasped. He watched her breasts bouncing as she began rhythmically pounding
against him. She would rock forward and back, sliding her pussy up and down the
length of his cock. He was almost powerless to do anything, as her legs had
pinned his chest and offered very few options for movement. Beyond that, he
didn't want to do much moving. He was far too entranced with what Hermione
Granger was doing to him.
Draco didn't need to worry about the pace she was setting. It was both harder
and faster than he could've thought possible. She'd started off traversing the
complete length of his shaft, but this had been too slow, however hard it might
allow her to fuck him. It wasn't enough. She began to move less and less, but
consequentially faster, and the force never let up. Her breasts bounced faster,
and it was all Draco could do to keep his head tilted forward to enjoy the
view.
Her pace kept increasing. And increasing. Draco could tell from the slippery
inside of her pussy that she was getting very close.
"God damnit, Draco! Impale me!" He understood her urgency, but there was
nothing he could do. She set the pace.
"I'm going to come," he groaned. "Do you want me to?"
"Yes. I'm so close. Do it, Draco. Push me over the edge."
He arched his back, pushing up into her with such force that her knees
momentarily left the table. He came like this, his body shuddering beneath her,
come spilling into her hot, wet, crevice. She felt it inside of her, and the
floodgates broke. She felt her walls clamp down around Draco's cock, milking it
as the waves of orgasm traversed her body. He held her on top of him for
several minutes until her orgasm receded, and she could regain control of her
limbs. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, the swell of her pale breasts
in the starlight as she caught her breath on top of him.
"I hope… Davies…. Can smell it in the morning," she said between breaths.
"That'd drive him mad, no doubt," Draco said, smiling. He sat up, kissed her
lightly, his tongue only brushing against her lips, and vaulted over the edge
to regain his clothes. She loved this about Draco. He wasn't one for pillow
talk. They were done for the evening and they both saw the sense in getting out
of there. There was no point in drawing it out and extending their chances of
getting caught.
When they were both fully dressed, the exited the Great Hall in silence, and
crept back to the stairs. Draco pulled her in for one final, passionate kiss
before setting off for the dungeons.
"Pleasant dreams," she called after him. He turned to wink at her.
*~*
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter 5 – Electricity

A few days had passed since Hermione's last 'adventure' with Draco Malfoy. It
was now getting perilously close to the end of the term, and that meant only
one thing in Hermione's mind- exams. At least, that was how it used to be.
Disconcertingly, she found herself to be extremely divided. One part of her,
perhaps her old self, was screaming at her to study for her exams- after all,
these would determine her placements for next year, and thus eventually affect
her N.E.W.Ts, which were terribly important. On the other hand, however,
Hermione found that she couldn't stop thinking about Draco. When she'd see him
next, what they'd do. Draco was never one for repetition. She already knew that
she could look forward to a fresh experience every time she was with him. It
was like nothing else in her life.

Sometimes she could scarcely believe it was possible, that she could be doing
what she was doing. This went against everything she believed in: she was
having casual sex, and with someone who had made her life hell for the last six
years. Her secret was not to think about the implications. And it was easier
than she thought. After all, there were plenty of other things for her to think
about. Like how good he felt against her. She was confident that, whatever she
was doing, as long as it didn't hurt anyone, it was fine. She conveniently
ignored the close brush with death Roger Davies had had the last time. Well,
really, it wasn't. Draco had done him a favour, actually. Now that he wasn't
going to tell a soul about what he knew, he was safe from whatever might have
been done to him. A favour, she told herself.

She sat with Ron, Harry and most of the rest of Gryffindor house, in the Common
Room, and for the first time she was like the rest of them: only vainly
attempting to study for exams. She laughed inwardly when she realized
that this was how it must be like for her friends.

Ron threw down his quill. "This rubbish isn't doing me any good. I can't
remember anything!"
Hermione sighed. "Yeah, me either." She jerked her head up once she had
realized her mistake and found everyone within hearing distance staring at her,
disbelief etched across all of their faces.

"Wait, what?" Harry said.

She eyed him cautiously. Hermione figured he would be less confused than the
rest of them, after all, he knew that something was up, even if he had no idea
what it was. No such luck, it seemed.

"Well, uh, I dunno," Hermione said, back-pedaling. "There's just been a lot
going on. I have a right to be stressed," she snapped at them.

Ron shrugged and went back to staring blankly at his transfiguration notes. The
Common Room resumed, but with increased whispers. Hermione could pick them out,
if she listened closely. The consensus for all of the sixth years was that if
Hermione was struggling, then they should all be doubly worried. A hush fell
over the room as those studying renewed their efforts.

For Hermione, the afternoon dragged by. It was odd; usually her Saturdays flew
by, seeing as how she always had way too much to do and never enough time to do
it. But now time might as well have stopped. Just the thought of him made her
skin burn. She only hoped that tonight would be the night, and she could only
dream of what possibilities he would turn into realities with their next
encounter.

On the one hand, she found it almost frightening that she focused on sex this
much now. She wasn't a tart. She wasn't one of those people who needed sex
constantly, just the opposite, in fact. She'd always been such a "good girl."
That was the excuse she used now: That she'd been a "good girl" all her life,
and now she was just playing catch-up. Most people spent their teenage years
building up sexual experience, and so they could take things in stride. That
didn't really apply to her. She had been opened up to a whole world of
experience in so short a period of time; it was only natural for her to be
overwhelmed by it.

That was what she told herself, anyway.

***

Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, had no such excuse. His mind was hopelessly
entrapped on her, and for good reason.

He sat on one of the sofas in the Slytherin common room, thinking. It was no
secret that he had slept with nearly every eligible female in his house, and
quite a few from the others. He didn't try to keep it a secret; in fact he
often used it for bragging rights. But this was all different. He'd never slept
with a Gryffindor, especially not a Mudblood like Hermione Granger. On the flip
side, he'd never had a better shag in his life. Maybe it was something about
her innocence that turned him on...

In any case, he'd never be able to tell anyone about it, and it infuriated him.
He wanted to tell them, "I'm having the best sex of my life two or three times
a week! What are you idiots doing with yourselves?" But of course he couldn't.
He didn't even want to know what would be done to him if anyone important ever
found out he was sleeping with a Mudblood. But no one would. Certainly Hermione
would never tell anyone.

His mental commentary ground to a halt when he realized it... He'd just called
her Hermione. Her name. It was odd, really. Sure, it might've slipped out once
or twice during the sex, but she was always still 'Granger' in his head.

He got up with a sigh and decided to walk down to the washroom to clear his
thoughts. He took his time wandering through the castle, deciding to find a
bathroom on the seventh floor that he had a particular fondness for. He knew it
would take forever to get there from the dungeons, but he didn't mind.

The late afternoon sun shone through the windows as he rose higher, and it
turned the stone walls a muddled shade of red-orange. He savoured the walk,
taking his time. Instead of thinking about the situation, he just found himself
plotting when the next time would be. He knew this couldn't go on forever. He
needed to get as much in, while he still could.

He decided it would be tonight.

Almost before he realized where he was, he had reached the bathroom on the
seventh floor. He marveled at how fast the trip had passed. He stepped inside,
walking over to the sinks by the far wall. He turned the taps on, and then ran
his hands under the water. It was freezing cold- a pleasant surprise in the
June heat. He pushed his hands across his face, careful to avoid his immaculate
hair, but relishing the coolness against his skin.

So absorbed was he, he didn't hear the door open behind him, didn't notice
someone creeping up behind him until it was almost too late.

He turned around in a blur and held his wand out, under her neck. When
comprehension came to him, he lowered his wand, but didn't put it away. It was
only Pansy.

She gave a nervous laugh, which trailed off when she noticed his expression.
"Draco, honey, don't do that! You scared the hell out of me."

He said nothing as she pushed herself into him. She wrapped her arms around his
back, digging her nails in through his shirt, as she whispered "Draco, why
don't you fuck me anymore?"

It was impossible for him to avoid being turned on. She might have a face like
a dog, but even he couldn't deny how good her body felt against him. He
silently cursed his weakness as he felt himself growing hard against her. She
smiled, flashing her teeth at him.

He swallowed, trying to regain his composure. "I've been... busy."

She grabbed his wrist. Squeezed where she knew his Dark Mark was. His eyes met
hers. "I'm sure you have," she breathed. He belatedly noticed that most of her
shirt was unbuttoned. The ghostly swell of her cleavage was quite visible. He
felt his pants growing tighter.

Pansy could feel his erection pressing against her through them. She knew she
was in control now. Draco, leaning against the sink behind him, slid his leg
forward slightly. She took advantage of this, pushing herself against his
thigh. She smiled a tight smile as she saw his eyes when he realized it: She
wasn't wearing panties beneath her skirt. She ground her pussy into his thigh;
to be sure he could feel the warmth of her against him. She felt his cock
twitch. She saw it, too.

So she decided to drop her bomb, before it was too late and she forgot all
about it. "Draco," she said, pausing while he looked down at her, "Who is it?"

His eyes narrowed sharply and he said, "I have no idea what you're talking
about."

Pansy stepped back slightly, and sighed. "Oh, come on, Draco. I'm
not that stupid. I know you get around like the Weasley girl on a Friday
night."

"Don't you dare compare me to that redhead blood-traitor slut!" He pulled her
against him with more force than he had originally intended. Pansy giggled.

"Sorry, Draco, but you get around. So who is it this time? You can tell me."
Draco hesitated. She cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe we can have a threesome..."

Draco said nothing, but mentally he laughed at the idea. There wasn't a shot in
a million years that Hermione would ever have anything to do with Pansy, and
vice versa, especially not when it came to having group sex.

"I don't think she'd be interested," he smirked.

Pansy's eyes lit up with interest. "Oooh, really? Who is it, Draco? Is it
Chang? I bet I could get her in bed with us. She's such a whore anyway. Y'know
I've never slept with an Asian..."

Draco decided to go with Chang, which he hoped was just a lucky guess on
Pansy's part. He didn’t think she could’ve known about Cho walking in on him,
but Pansy was known for being on top of gossip. "I'll talk to her," he
promised. The last thing he needed was Pansy trying to get Chang into her bed.
Actually, he mused, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. It'd be perfect
blackmail...

"On second thought, I doubt I'll have time. You talk to her. Just don't mention
that me and her, y'know, she doesn't like anyone else knowing."

Pansy nodded and grinned. "You just wait. I'll make her want me so bad."

It wasn't a secret, at least among the Slytherins, anyway, that Pansy swung
both ways. Many Slytherins did. It increased the chances of having something
fun to do, or several things, and it made the orgies much less awkward for
everyone.

Draco didn't know whether she'd actually win Cho Chang over. He had no idea
whether she was into girls or not. Her whorishness was one of the worst kept
secrets in all of Ravenclaw house. What he did know, however, was that she'd
once had sex with half of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team... all at once. That was
a pretty good indicator of what she was up for.

His mind immediately returned to the present when Pansy grabbed his cock
through his pants. He was fully hard and pushing against the zipper. She
grabbed it and held it, squeezing gently. Draco exhaled sharply.

His mind was in a fog. Part of him was panicking. He didn't want to go back to
Pansy. God knows what diseases she had picked up while he was off shagging
Hermione. But, well, here she was, ready to go. How could he pass up the
opportunity, even if it was Pansy? It was just like Hermione- Mudblood, yes,
but also an opportunity. A very convenient opportunity. Draco Malfoy was a man
of variety. Who wanted to get tied down?

"What say we do something about your little problem, eh Draco?" Pansy cooed,
falling to her knees.

"Little?" he scoffed, unbuttoning his trousers. He pulled his boxers down
immediately and his long cock fell out, pointing straight out at Pansy.

She giggled and took it in her hands, stroking it. "Well," she breathed, "When
you put it that way it becomes a rather large problem, doesn't it?"

Draco leaned back against the sink as she began to expertly work his cock with
both hands. One was jerking up and down by the tip, lightning fast, while the
other slowly worked its way up and down the length of his shaft. He moaned low
in the back of his throat.

If there was one thing he could admire Pansy for, it was that she knew what she
was doing. She might be a little too experienced, by any reasonable limits, but
that didn't mean that Draco wouldn't take advantage of it. With Hermione, while
her amateurish innocence was a definite turn on, it just didn't produce the
kind of results Pansy could get when she was doing this. She radiated
confidence. This was, after all, her element.

When Draco's cock was standing straight up, she slid her hands down to the base
of his shaft and leaned in closer. Her tongue snaked out from between her
parted lips and ran the underside of his shaft, to the very tip. She dragged
her tongue back and forth across the sensitive spot just below the tip. His
moans intensified.

And then, without any warning, she wrapped her lips around the tip and took the
entire length of his cock in her mouth. Pushing her nose into his abdomen, she
held it there, and then, just as suddenly, she eased up the length of him again
until all he could feel was the cold air of the seventh floor bathroom and her
hot breath on the tip. Just for an instant. And then she devoured him again,
her mouth hungry for his cock.

Draco kept the noises to an absolute minimum. It was matter of dignity. He was
in control here, and he had to enjoy this less than her. But despite his best
attempts, he couldn't manage to regulate his breathing. She was too good. When
they'd first been together, he'd always tried to control her by grabbing her
head, pushing her into him. It slowed her down, threw her off. He'd long ago
learned to just leave her to it. She was a slut and she was proud of it, and
this was what she had to show for it.

The problem was that Pansy wasn't very controlled. She couldn't. She'd start
out running things, vying with him for absolute dominance. But then she'd just
want to fuck so badly that she'd completely lose it. It was happening again
now. She was getting careless, traversing his entire cock with her lips, her
wet tongue sliding against his shaft as she went. But she was going too fast.
She was losing control.

Draco knew that this was her way of telling him that she wanted him to fuck
her, immediately. But he found that he didn't want to. He thought about how she
would feel next to Hermione. Hermione who was tight and innocent and very
natural, versus Pansy, pale, soaking, and entirely stretched. Draco considered
himself to be of a fairly average size- that wasn't the problem. The problem
was that he could, and had, fit his entire fist inside of her. He didn't want
to do that. He didn't want to have sex with her, even if she begged him.

He made up his mind. He let Pansy continue working her lips around his cock,
except this time he allowed himself to get into it. He moaned and let his
breathing fall quick and shallow. When the time was right, he pulled back,
motioning for Pansy to stop. She made to stand up so that he could mount her,
but he put a hand on her shoulder to keep her down. She looked up at him
curiously as he began to stroke his cock.

His breathing intensified as he went faster and faster, and it was too late
before she realized that he was about to orgasm. Line after line of his cum
exploded onto her face, coating her nose, cheeks, lips, and chin. Every surface
he could cover. Pansy immediately licked her lips and began to collect the rest
from her face. Fucking typical, he thought.

"Great," Pansy whined, once she'd finished cleaning up. "Now we have to wait
until you're ready again. You couldn't keep it together Draco?"

He was already doing up his pants. "Sorry, gotta run. I'll see you around." And
without another word, he walked from the bathroom at a brisk pace, leaving a
very angry and very horny Pansy Parkinson to contemplate her fate. She decided
she'd have Chang by the end of the night, without Draco.


Elsewhere, Hermione was wrapped up in her own evening. She'd finished dinner
with Ron and Harry, and enjoyed the time to just sit around and talk with her
two best friends. They'd managed to take a walk around the grounds before it
grew too dark, and Hermione relished it. She found that students often didn't
appreciate just how astoundingly beautiful the grounds were until they were
cooped up in the castle studying for exams, so she was sure to take advantage
of the outdoors whenever possible. Sometimes she almost wished she was a
Quidditch player, so she'd have that excuse to enjoy the grounds at all hours.
But for the most part, flying simply terrified her. The losing of control of
it.

The sun was just setting as they walked through the Great Hall. The ceiling was
all shades of orange and red, and the intensity of it made it difficult to look
at. They trudged their way up to Gryffindor tower and reluctantly decided to
continue studying for their exams. Hermione wasn't really studying though, she
was waiting.

She had been waiting all day, searching everywhere. She was looking for a sign,
any sign, from Draco, of when they would be together again. Tonight was the
perfect night for it, but she had heard nothing from him. And so, as Harry and
Ron tried to cram various subjects before bed, she found her mind wandering
once more.

She found it embarrassing, but for the longest time she had never imagined what
it would feel like to have sex. It was simple really, to have sex; she would
have to have sex with a person. That penetration had to be connected to
someone. She had never been able to figure out who that person would be, and it
bothered her a lot. Sometimes she would imagine it was Ron, but then she would
think of his red pubic hair and it wouldn't seem so appealing anymore. She had
wondered if he had freckles down there, too.

Other times it would be Harry. She imagined Harry much less awkwardly than Ron,
but then she always thought of how Ron would feel about her sleeping with
Harry, and suddenly it lost its appeal as well. She was stuck. So she
contemplated other things, and let her fingers do the talking.

Now, she didn't need to. She had that person in Draco Malfoy and when she was
with him, she no longer thought of anyone else. Feeling him inside her was
better than she could ever have imagined it to be. It wasn't just his size, or
how he held her as he fucked her, it was how his cock was so alive inside of
her. It was hot, startlingly so, and throbbing. She could feel it pulsing with
his need when they had sex. It made her wet just thinking about it.

She smiled secretly to herself. She wondered how her friends would react if
they knew how wet she was just sitting there with them. They had no clue, they
would never know unless she told them. Maybe, if they saw up her skirt... She
dismissed the thought. She was too careful, and it was too dark. Nonetheless,
she crossed her legs, out of paranoia. She felt a trickle of come run slightly
down her thigh. She needed to be with him tonight.

As the night progressed, she sat there, thinking about him, waiting.
Eventually, Ron and Harry grew bored of studying. She didn't blame them- she
hadn't been able to concentrate at all. Nonetheless, she used the excuse of
studying to stay up without them worrying. She wasn’t amazed at how easily they
bought it. I really did have a one-track mind, didn't I? She thought. Well, now
she was using that to her advantage, as she waited for him.

She couldn't study. She busied herself in any way she could, reading, knitting,
and cleaning up the Common Room. An hour went by, and she was worrying. What if
he didn't come? She didn't know whatshe'd do if she went to bed unsatisfied
tonight. She was contemplating ways to turn her wand into a vibrator (she was
sure it was possible, as wands occasionally vibrated during the casting of
certain spells), when she saw something flash past the window.

She stared, utterly still. And then again, another flash. She couldn't make out
what it was other than a pale blur before her eyes. She waited, and then when
it flashed by again, she could clearly make it out.

It was Draco Malfoy, on a broom, outside of the Common Room window. No way, she
thought. There was not a chance she was getting on that broom with him.

She pushed the window open. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

"Evening, Granger," he grinned. "Fancy going for a ride?"

"I very much do mind, Malfoy. You can't make me get on that thing."

Draco looked bemused. "And why not? I don't suppose you can fly on your own,
can you? Haven't found that in one of your books?"

"No, in fact I haven't," she snorted. She sighed, "If you must know, it's
because... I'm rather afraid of flying."

Much to her surprise, he didn't laugh at all. In fact, he seemed to be
thinking. "You won't be on this broom, I can guarantee you that."

She shook her head, mortified.

"What? You'd rather spend your night in here?" he said, gesturing to the Common
Room.

"No! Of course not, it's just..." she trailed off.

"You don't trust me?" Draco faked outrage.

Hermione shrugged.

"Well, you'll just have to take it on faith," he said, his grin growing wider.

Take it on faith. Easier said than done, Hermione thought. Could she really
trust Malfoy? No. In her heart, she knew that this was an arrangement of
convenience, and that suited her just as well as it suited him. But it also
meant that she had no reason to trust him, either.

Still, she found herself acquiescing anyway. And why? Because she wanted this.
She wanted it more than she feared flying, and she wanted it more than she
doubted Draco. It was amazing how powerful her feelings could be. She thought
it might be unwise to let her emotions rule her decisions like this, but it
was much too late for that now.

Draco flew slowly in through the window and then landed noiselessly in the
Common Room. At least he's smart enough to shut up now, Hermione thought.
Still, his grin of victory pissed her off.

He handed her the broom first and gestured silently for her to get on. She felt
extremely foolish, standing there mounting a broom in the Common Room. She
figured she looked like a Muggle toddler with a toy broom, out for Halloween.

All thoughts of that notion evaporated when Draco came up behind her and
mounted the broom as well, taking the handle from her hands. They rose into the
air and through the large window that provided most of the light for the Tower.
She was glad they didn't have to try and cram through one of the smaller
windows. She could only imagine what it must be like for the Hufflepuffs trying
to sneak out. She smiled as she got a mental picture of a Hufflepuff tripping
over some pans in the kitchen and waking up all of the house elves.

As soon as they made it over the window ledge, and were off into the night air,
her smile evaporated. It took all of her restraint to keep from yelling as they
flew off, higher and higher, leaving the tower behind.

She remembered belatedly that the window was still open and yelled to Draco for
them to go back and close it.

"It'll be fine," he assured her. "No one's going to see it, and if they do they
sure as bloody hell won't expect that innocent Miss Granger snuck out the
window on a broom to have sex with a Malfoy, yeah?"

She shakily agreed as they continued their tour. At least he'd leveled out so
they weren't climbing higher anymore. As she grew more accustomed to flying
(all she really had to do was hold on- and she was quite good at that, she was
gripping the handle so hard all of her knuckles were white) she could take in
the details.

The first thing she noticed was that this wasn't Draco's broom. The wood,
though polished, was old, and it seemed somewhat long: both she and Draco fit
on the broom and there was room to spare.

The next thing she noticed was that she felt good. Really good. It took her a
moment to pinpoint it, and then she realized why: the broom was vibrating
between her legs. Vibrating quite hard. Hermione cursed herself for wearing a
skirt, on a broom of all things, but she at least had her panties between the
handle and the wetness that was most definitely beginning to develop. She was
sure this was intentional, but she decided to feign ignorance.

"Why is the broom doing that?" she asked Draco. They were travelling slow
enough that wind noise wasn't an issue.

"Oh, you've finally noticed it, eh? Terribly unfortunate. This broom's ancient.
Nicked it from the school shed. The charm's starting to wear off, so that's why
it's shaking. I can't exactly sneak my broom out and back in, so I figured it'd
be easier to take one of the school brooms, yeah?"

She knew that he had intentionally planned this, knowing that the vibrations
from the broom would make her horny. They were flying across the grounds, and
he was engaged in foreplay at the same time. She rolled her eyes. Only Malfoy.

Finally, they began to descend. They were heading for a stand of trees on the
shore of the Black Lake. Draco touched down gracefully, even as Hermione dug
her feet into the ground in panic. It was too late before she realized she
wasn't wearing any shoes and lifted her feet again. She couldn't imagine the
state of her socks now.

Draco stepped off the broom behind her, allowing her to disembark at her own
pace. She was determined not to make a fool of herself, but she'd never gotten
off a broom before after flying. Well, not without landing face first in the
dirt, anyway. Draco had his wand out, but she didn't notice.

Her attempt to get off the broom ended in disaster and she inevitably pitched
headlong into the ground- but the grass seemed to cushion her fall, like a
cloud. It was extraordinarily odd. It felt like grass. She knew that it was
normal ground beneath her, but it was so soft. There were trees nearby, and the
branches extended over her view a little, but not much. The leaves were utterly
still.

She lay there on her back, dizzy and disoriented. She thought that she would
take the stairs next time, if she had the choice.



She was snapped out of her reverie when Draco laid down next to her. He put his
arm around her and pulled her against him, until she was half on top of him,
looking up at the night sky.

She thought back to her third year, when all of the students had slept in the
Great Hall as the castle was searched for Sirius Black. It didn't even come
close to what she was experiencing now. The ceiling did a wonderful job of
showing off the night sky, but out here, on the grounds, completely removed
from civilization, the stars were like an explosion in the inky darkness of
night.

She turned to look at Draco. Her eyes closed as she leaned in to kiss him, and
as they began the delicate game of cat and mouse their tongues played, the
insides of her eyelids went white with a flash.

Her eyes came open in a second, pausing to look over Draco's shoulder. It was
lightning. Great brilliant sheets of electricity alighting over the mountains
behind the castle.

Draco looked where she was looking and then saw the lightning as well. "We
should move. Trees aren't terribly safe to be under in a lightning storm."

But Hermione shook her head. "Look at the stars. It's clear above us. It must
just be heat lightning." Draco checked the sky and shrugged his agreement with
her assessment, leaning in to kiss her once more.

Their limbs entangled with their tongues, and the lightning continued to
explode in the distance, briefly lighting the massive hillsides beyond the
castle for any who cared to look. Draco and Hermione both had their eyes
closed, too intent on the twining of their tongues.

Draco had broken the kiss and then was kissing around her collarbone, into the
center of her chest, and then her shirt disappeared, Draco, a flurry of limbs
removing it from her. He tossed his own off with it. The night air was humid,
but not overbearing. Hermione did not at all mind being rid of her shirt.

She had on a white lace bra, patterned intricately, but none too revealing.
Draco left it on, kissing her breasts around the bra, his hands kneading into
the bare skin of her back. Finally, when she was about to reach back herself,
he unclasped it, untangled it from her arms, and threw it into the growing pile
of clothes beneath the tree.

Hermione was playing a game with herself. She would try and focus on aspects of
the tree, try not to notice what Draco was doing to her, to test his power over
her. Right now, she was watching the gentle sway of the tallest limbs. She
noticed that the taller branches were swaying slightly, implying that, high up,
there might be a breeze. There was nothing down here on the ground. The air was
still, electrified. She watched the thousands of leaves, watched the limbs
gently sway back and forth-

And then Draco took her breasts in his hands, and she forgot all about the tree
that stood behind them. He was massaging them gently, pushing them together
slightly, while his tongue returned to her mouth. She arched her back up and
forced her tongue into his mouth, begging him to go on.

He continued to do as he had before, except his massaging became more forceful.
Eventually his thumbs reached out, to push into her nipples, making them hard
while he played with her breasts. Finally he abandoned the massaging
altogether, focusing on running his thumbs across her nipples while he fought
for dominance over her with his tongue. Before either party could gain a
victory, he broke off the kiss, now dragging his tongue down between her
breasts.

Finally, he returned to her nipples, though this time it was with his tongue.
He wrapped his lips around the left, swirling his tongue quickly before
switching to the right, and repeating. Back and forth he went, just long enough
to cause a shock of pleasure to hit her, but not long enough for her to fully
enjoy it. While this was happening Hermione became acutely aware of how wet she
was.

It seemed Draco was thinking the same thing, because he skipped right over her
abdomen, until his face was level with her belly button. He looked up at her
and then yanked her skirt off, his eyes never leaving hers while he did so. She
was wearing white lacy panties to match her bra. When he finally surveyed the
damage, he let out a low whistle.

"Merlin be damned," he said. "You're lucky these are white." She felt the
panties being slowly dragged off, and then she saw what he was talking about.
They were transparent with wetness.

"Give me those!" she said, and her hand shot out to snatch them from him. He
held them out of reach, a satisfied smirk on his face, before he tossed them
into the pile.

Ignoring his satisfaction, she spread her legs apart. He leaned in again,
moving up until his face was level with hers. Their foreheads were just
touching, she below him, when he slid two fingers into her. They emerged
covered in come, and he sucked them clean. He buried them again, and Hermione
let out a low, passionate moan. He stifled it with a kiss, his tongue wrapping
around hers. She moaned into his mouth and he loved the feeling of it.

She felt like there was heat lightning flashing inside her head. She was hot
with need for him, but she didn't want to stop kissing him. She loved the
feeling of his tongue inside of her mouth. It was hot and wet and incredibly
soft. She loved how his lips crushed against hers with the force of his kiss.
Everything about Draco Malfoy was intense. Like a panther waiting to spring.

Finally, reluctantly, he broke off the kiss, and grabbed her ass, pushing her
toward him as he slid down. He attacked her with relish, loosing his tongue
inside the folds of her pussy. He didn't start slow. He didn't tease her clit.
He began running rapid lengths up and down her entrance, using his tongue to
clean away all of the come that had built up there. He cleared her pussy for a
moment, and then dove back in, this time his lips wrapping around her clit. His
tongue was pounding it, the pressure was enormous. Hermione felt her back
arching involuntarily with the force of what she was experiencing. Her moans
filled the air, but there were none except Draco Malfoy there to hear them.

When he stopped, she knew what was coming next, but it surprised her. She
looked into his eyes and knew it was time, but why? He had just eaten her pussy
better than she even knew was possible, and he asked nothing in return? She
hadn't even touched his cock yet, let alone given him her usual blowjob.
Perhaps it was the intensity of it all, she thought. There was no time to stop.
She was ready and so was he. She stared up at the stars as he whipped his
remaining clothing off.

He plunged his cock into her and she howled in pleasure, his own moan meeting
hers halfway. He lay on top of her, thrusting down with all of his might, his
thighs meeting hers, pounding them into the grass. He held her head against his
chest, wrapped both of his arms around her neck, pulling her against him as he
fucked her. Hermione was barely conscious from the pleasure. Draco's breathing
was growing more and more ragged; it was all she could do to keep breathing in
the first place.

It was everything she remembered and more. So much more. As she sucked in the
night air, it was as though whole new doors were being opened. This was an
experience unlike any other she had known. The stars melded together in her
vision, the night sky becoming blurred with the haze of pleasure that had
firmly enveloped her. He lay her head back on the grass, pushing his into her
neck. She could feel his breath on her collarbone, feel his soft blond hair
against her skin. If she had any control of her limbs, she would've pushed his
head into her breast. She wanted to feel his hair. But as it stood, she didn't.
The orgasm that was building inside had stripped her of all control. The only
thing in the entire universe that she was aware of was Draco Malfoy above her,
thrusting his long, hard cock into her at a breakneck pace.

Her pussy, tight as ever, was on fire. It was everything she wanted. She could
feel the life inside of her; feel the pulse of Draco's cock, his cock, as it
flooded in and out of her. With each thrust it seemed he pushed deeper inside
her, every time he withdrew it seemed like her inner walls grabbed onto him, as
if trying to force him to remain within. Her whole body ached to have him
inside of her.

"Draco," she managed to whisper. He looked up at her.

"I need you to... come. Now."

He managed a small smile that quickly became contorted with passion.

"Way... ahead of you."

And he slammed his cock inside of her, as deep as he could manage, so hard she
was sure it would bruise, and he came. He came with a force she could scarcely
imagine. He crushed her body against his as his come exploded into her walls.
She could feel it inside of her, all of the hot, wet. There was so much. It
pushed her over the edge.

He hadn't finished coming when she began her own orgasm. She began with tiny
panic moans. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," she repeated over and over again, in
a hoarse whisper that gradually grew louder until she was yelling, yelling his
name. "DRACO, YES. YES, YES, FUCKING YES, DRACO."

Her back arched once more, pushing her entire body up as she spasmed beneath
him. Her words soon lost all form, degenerating into a low scream that seemed
to fill her entire mind. Her pussy clutched his cock in a vice and held him
there as wave after wave of pleasure collided with her, rolling her eyes up
into her head, forcing her to hang on to Draco or be carried away forever. And
so she clung to him, until the waves gradually receded, until the buzzing in
her head stopped, and until her voice trailed off into breathing again.

She lay back on the grass, and then he to, beside her. She realized that he'd
been holding perfectly still, suspended above her for her entire orgasm. And
then she realized that it might have only been a minute long. She reeled at
this. It felt as though time itself had stopped for her. He was still inside of
her, though he finally pulled out and pushed his cock against her abdomen,
sticky cum coating the area.

Once her breathing had returned to normal, she looked down. "Oh, see what
you've done? Gone and made a mess already, have you?"

He grinned at her. "Well, I suppose you can count your blessing that most of
the mess is inside of you, eh?"

She nodded her agreement, before reaching down to take his cock in her hands.
He groaned, pushing against her.

She put on an air of mock astonishment, "Really Draco? Already? My,
you are hard to satisfy."
She pulled her fingers from his cock and dragged them across her abdomen,
cleaning up the cum that had spilled there.

"You know I love how you taste," she whispered, licking her fingers clean.

"I can say the same about you," he growled.

And they fell silent. He pulled her against him and they laid there, in the
darkness, for a long time, saying nothing, doing nothing, listening to
heartbeats, the sounds of the lake, the tree swaying ever so slightly above
them, staring off into the pool of stars that pitted away at the black canvas
of the sky.

That night, the universe had stopped for them. Everything else ceased to exist.
There wasn’t a war on, a war in which they were aligned to opposite sides. And
blood meant nothing more than the life that flowed through everyone’s veins.

There was no Hermione Granger, and there was no Draco Malfoy.

There was only one.

*~*
 
***** Chapter 6 *****

Author's notes:
A/N: This is it, the very final chapter of An Honest Mistake! I'd love to hear
your reviews on the story as a whole, now that it's completed!

===============================================================================
 Chapter 6 - Encore Une Fois
 
The days left at Hogwarts were growing thinner and thinner, until finally, it
was their last night. They would be taking the train back to King's Cross the
next day. The atmosphere around Hogwarts was mixed, as it always was, with
students torn between their final preparations for the journey home, and the
fantastic June weather to be had on the castle grounds.


Pansy Parkinson, like the rest of her dungeon-dwelling friends, was not on the
grounds. Instead, she found herself tailing Draco. She had a suspicion as to
where he might be going, but she couldn't be sure. So she followed him, making
sure he would never see her. She couldn't imagine what it must look like to an
observer, but she didn't have any time to think about that. Draco was taking a
non-stop stream of shortcuts. She needed to pay attention so she didn't lose
him.


But of course, eventually her thoughts drifted back to what she was trying to
do, which was seduce Draco, and she lost him. She had had it with his games.
She was sick of him holding out on her. She wanted him to fuck her brains out
already, and she'd be damned if she didn't get what she wanted. She could only
hope she knew where he was going.


She hurried onward, up to the seventh floor corridor. She stalked toward the
bathroom that no one she knew used, except for him. It was too far out of the
way. She had no idea why he'd go all the way up here just to use the bathroom,
but she didn't care. It meant that she could fuck him in there and no one would
ever walk in.


Pansy inched the door open and peered through. He was sitting against the wall,
below the single window, which was streaming in the mid-afternoon sunlight. He
was still dressed, mostly, but she was shocked to see that he had his cock in
his hand. His eyes were closed as he jerked it up and down, slowly. There was
precome covering his hand. Pansy figured he had probably been at it for a
while. Not surprisingly, she realized that she was extremely horny. Her hand
had wandered down into her own jeans, and she stifled a moan as she slipped a
finger inside of her. And then another. She wanted yet another still, but she'd
have to take her jeans off to manage that, so she settled for two, pumping them
in and out of herself as she stood there, watching. Her fingers were soon
soaked with come, and she couldn't help it, she let out a moan. Draco's eyes
flew open and darted to the door.


And then she did something only Pansy Parkinson would do. "I hope you're
thinking of me," she smirked, as she stepped through the doorway. She began to
undress. Quickly. Draco looked up in surprise and his eyes widened as he saw
what was happening.


Pansy began an elaborate strip tease. She tugged at her shirt, pulling it up to
show her flat, milky stomach. She began to slowly drag it up until at last it
had made it up over her exposed, bra-free breasts , and then pulled it right
over her head.


She was smiling a wicked smile. She kicked off the quiet, sensible shoes she
had chosen for stealth over fashion and began unbuttoning her pants. He could
already see the curves of her hip bones, her jeans were so low. She had
specifically chosen these because they had four buttons. She began undoing them
slowly, one by one, while she swung her hips back and forth to an invisible
beat. Draco still sat there, his face betraying nothing.


Finally, her jeans were unzipped. She began to slide them down, slowly, turning
around so that he could see her ass while she bent over to push them down. She
was wearing a white g-string, so Draco could see every detail of her ass as she
bent over. She turned around again, and then he could truly see how wet she
was. The fabric of the g-string was nearly transparent.


Smirking, she hooked her thumbs in the string at her waist and pulled it down,
giving him a tease of her smooth, hairless pussy.


"Like what you see?" she cooed.


"No. Sorry, Pansy. I'm done here." Putting his cock away, he zipped up his
pants, stood up and left. He had disappeared into the Room of Requirement
before she had even moved.


He was done with Pansy.


For a long time, Pansy stood there, naked save for her g-string. She couldn't
believe that her best effort had failed. He'd stopped masturbating once she'd
come in. She didn't understand it. But she understood one thing- she was done
with men.


She never would've admitted it to anyone, but since she had stopped having sex
with Draco several weeks ago, she hadn't slept with any other guys. Only girls,
Cho Chang being the most recent. She wanted to be with someone who treated her
right, and Draco was the only guy she saw herself being with anymore. But if he
wasn't an option, if he wouldn't treat her right, she'd go to someone who
would. She'd find a girl. They always knew exactly what she wanted. More
satisfied with herself than she'd been in a long while, she departed the
bathroom alone, with a smile.


Hermione, personally, had seen more of the castle grounds than any of her
friends thanks to her last adventure with Draco, so she was inside, packing
away all of her things. Ron and Harry, however, were a much different sort of
being, and wanted nothing more than to stretch their legs outside. It suited
Hermione fine. They'd be the ones frantically checking to make sure everything
was packed tomorrow.


She was just packing away her undergarments and lamenting the number of ruined
panties from the last month--she would have to buy some new ones --when she
noticed something curious. Inside one of her bras was a tiny slip of parchment.
Instantly she dived for it and unfolded it. With a burning excitement not
entirely void of her nether regions, she read:


Seventh floor corridor. 3 PM.


She sighed and checked her watch. It was only just after one o'clock.
She knew that Draco would take her back for one last time. Hermione was
desperate for it. They hadn't seen each other at all during the exam period,
and she found herself needing to cast 'Muffliato' around her four poster every
night to keep the other girls from hearing her. She didn't want to think of
what the others would make of it if they heard her growling Draco's name while
she fingered herself.


But of course it was never the same. She could shout herself hoarse while
masturbating and remembering all of the things they had done together, but the
orgasm would never come close to anything he could deliver.


She gave a sudden thought to the summer. Her mind reeled. What would she
do? Two entire months without sex sounded painful to Hermione now. She would've
found it ironic, since she had managed to go the first seventeen years of her
life without anysex, (perhaps, besides Viktor Krum lazily trying to cop a feel-
which she didn't suppose counted these days), but she was too devastated. She
would be staying at The Burrow. A house full of boys. Really, how hard could it
be?


But they were all her friends. She loved the Weasley family like her own. That
made things infinitely more complicated. Perhaps she should revisit the idea of
Ron...


Ugh. She didn't need that to turn her off while she thought about Draco. But
she couldn't help it. Ron... would be interesting. He wouldn't be a Draco, at
least not yet, anyway, but by all indications he could certainly compete with
Mr. Malfoy size-wise. Which might be a problem. Hermione prided herself on how
tight she was, even after all of her time with Draco. Not a slut, she thought
happily. But even if she could somehow get Ron, she would have to find some way
to convince him she was a virgin; there was no way she would ever tell a soul
about her and Draco. She figured she could try to play it off like it was a
one-night stand; a drunken mistake with a random student. Ron might be many
things, but naive wasn't one of them.


She shook her head. But why think about Ron? She had Draco for now. She'd worry
about the rest when the time came.


So she passed the time by packing up her things. Before she was completely
finished with her underwear, however, she changed into the only green pair of
panties she had. She had never worn them in front of Draco before. She
preferred black since it did a much better job of covering how wet she got. But
she decided that, since this was the last time, at least for now, it would be
alright.


The other girls began to filter in as the afternoon wore on, and the
conversation made the time pass quicker. Hermione could chat along, one half of
her discussing her plans for the summer, the other half imagining the sex she
would be having with Draco. If she did have to go without him for two months,
she thought, she had better make their final time together their best.


Almost before she knew it, it was time for her to leave. No one asked where she
was going. Most of them probably figured she was going to find Harry and Ron,
and if they asked, that's what she would've told them. But of course instead of
heading out to the grounds, she made her way to the seventh floor corridor to
find Draco.


She hadn't given much thought as to where they'd be doing it. Obviously this
corridor was just a meeting place- the corridors were much too heavily
travelled for it to be safe. She hoped that wasn't what he had in mind;
it was the middle of the afternoon and all. When she considered passageways,
though, she did find that she liked the idea of doing it in one of the secret
shortcuts, behind a tapestry somewhere. That bubble burst at the thought
of Filch or Harry taking the wrong one. No, better bring her to some place
absolutely, permanently deserted, or there would be trouble from her.


She arrived at the seventh floor corridor and found it empty. She paced around
a bit, pretending she was examining some of the paintings, waiting for him to
appear. At exactly 3 PM... Draco stepped out of a door that had materialized in
the wall.


He was in the Room of Requirement.


"The Come and Go Room," she said, smiling, "a very curious choice, Draco."


"Oh, you know about it too?" he asked.


"When you have Harry Potter as a best friend, there aren't too many things
you don't know about this castle," she grinned.


Draco rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say."


"So, are you going to invite me in?" she asked smugly.


"At once, milady," he made a mock bow and held out his hand for hers. She
laughed and he stood up, smiling. "Of course not, just get your arse in there
before I pick you up and toss you in."


"You don't need to tell me twice." She stepped in through the door and found
herself in the Room of Requirement. But it wasn't like she'd ever seen it. The
Room was massive and filled with things. She noticed in particular that a large
wooden cabinet stood out, having had all of the other junk around it cleared
away. Curious, she thought, but paid it no mind. She was here to fuck
senseless, and that was exactly what she planned to do.


"What is all this stuff?" she asked.


"As far as I can tell, it's all stuff that other people have tried to hide over
the years. Anything from contraband to extra furniture," he said, throwing
himself down on a large black sofa with green trim. It looked very much like it
had once could have resided in the Slytherin common room. He was lying on his
side, his head propped up with his hand. She decided to take a seat in a
matching chair across from it.


"Hmmm... the chair. I like the way you think," he said, and got off of the
couch immediately.


"Well, get up," he said. She got to her feet in a hurry, wondering what this
was about, when he swept in and kissed her, hard. Harder than he'd ever kissed
her before. For half a second her brain went crazy, convinced he was trying to
suffocate her, but then she relaxed into the kiss and began to push back, first
with her lips, and then with her tongue.


She felt his arms begin to twine around her, his hands smoothing her back,
lifting up her shirt. They were icy cold, perhaps because she was so warm, and
they instantly sent goosebumps up all over her body. She reveled in the feeling
of his hands against her naked flesh.


The kiss deepened. It wasn't enough. Before she knew it, she was breaking the
kiss to pull his shirt from him, to feel his hardened chest against her finger
tips, to dig into it with her nails. Her shirt vanished also, leaving only her
bra between Draco and her large, round breasts.


Just as she began to rake her nails across his chest, he began to massage her
breasts. As her fingertips traversed under his arms and around to his back, she
felt his kneading get more insistent, and finally, he reached around and
unclasped her bra.


If her mouth wasn't completely entwined with Draco's, she would've let out a
small gasp. Draco's cold hands against the softest of skin had made her shiver
involuntarily, and her nipples had become instantly hard. He seemed to like
this, rubbing the nipple back and forth with his thumb while he kissed her,
using his fingers to gently squeeze her breasts.


And then he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against him, the kiss
growing more intense, and his tongue fighting ever harder against hers for
dominance. She loved the feeling of her breasts being pushed into his chest. It
was like pushing them against a solid wall of flesh.


The kiss finally ended and Draco began to descend down to her breasts, teasing
them with his tongue and sucking on them with intensity. They proceeded like
this for a while, neither caring that the other was still half-dressed. Finally
she tried to whisper, though it was more like a strangled cry, "My turn."


He spun them around so that his back was now to the chair. Hermione quickly
unbuttoned his trousers and pushed them down so that he could step out of them.
They began to kiss again, and she grabbed his cock, which was now thoroughly
hard through his boxers, and began to stroke it slowly. She was hellbent on
making this as good as possible. It certainly seemed to her that Draco had the
same intention.


She could feel the precome soaking his boxers as she stroked him through the
fabric. Soon her fingers were sticky with it. She broke the kiss to bring her
fingers up to her lips, smearing the precome on before licking it off. Draco
only growled in response, his passionate lust evident in the way the tip of his
cock was pressed against her abdomen. She figured it was time for his boxers to
make a disappearance, so she pulled them down, stretching them over his cock so
as to not interfere. Once they were clear, she threw them to the ground. "Sit,"
she breathed, pushing him into the chair. He sat.


Hermione got on her knees, and resumed stroking his cock. She could see the
clear precome coating the tip of his cock, just above her hand, and she longed
to suck it off, to take him in her mouth. Wait, she told herself. The longer
you wait, the better it'll be. But don't wait too long, another voice
cautioned, or you'll never last.


She tried to strike a balance. She let the precome pool around the tip,
stroking faster and faster, until it was dangerously close to dripping down his
shaft. He was grunting low in this throat by then, and when she wrapped her
lips around the tip, cleaning away all of the precome with her tongue, he let a
loud groan. "Oh, fuck," he grunted.


She smiled inwardly. She was getting better at this.


She began by sucking the tip, bobbing up and down on it with just her lips. And
then she introduced her tongue again, swirling it around the head. She began to
take more and more of his shaft in her mouth, until she had fit all that she
could. She held it there, swirling her tongue around the shaft, before
returning to the head again. She repeated this a number of times, especially
focusing on the head with her tongue, dragging it back and forth. She knew how
it drove him wild, and by the moaning he was doing, she was sure it was having
the desired effect.


Finally, he stopped her, having gotten close enough. "Trade," he growled. And
so she got up from her knees, and he got out of the chair. Belatedly, she
realized that she was still dressed from the waist down. How had that
happened? She had no time to wonder as Draco speedily undid her jeans and
peeled them off.


"Well, well," he smirked. She looked down and realized with embarrassment that
she had left her panties on far too long. The wet spot was sizable and
unmistakable.


"Merlin, Granger, you're leaking like a faucet."


She blushed slightly before regaining her composure. "So what are you going to
do about it?" she said smugly.


Draco said nothing, but instead he spun her and pushed her into the chair. She
spread her legs over the arms and leaned her head back, making sure that her
dripping pussy was front and center. He immediately found her clit through her
panties and began to stroke it. She gasped. She hadn't forgotten, by any means,
how good it felt, but at the same time, the explosion of pleasure completely
defied all of her memories. It was infinitely better than she was capable of
remembering.


She felt her pussy growing even wetter and knew that she had to get her panties
off. She leaned back further and straightened her legs. Draco took it as his
cue to remove them, pulling them down over her legs and tossing them to the
side. She spread her legs once more, and now her glistening pussy was on
display. Draco could see the pearly come lining the folds and longed to collect
all of it with his tongue. Instead however, he slid his middle finger inside of
her, burying it to the second knuckle. He was pleased when she shuddered and
let out a long moan.


He slowly withdrew the finger and grinned when he noticed it was covered in her
come. He pushed the finger back inside, and then pulled it out again, faster
this time. In this way, he began to build a steady rhythm until Hermione was
leaning back as far as she could, her legs spread wide before him. He squeezed
another finger inside of her, and used his free hand to push against her clit
with his thumb.


Draco stared hungrily at her pussy, which was now dripping with come. When at
last he could wait no longer, he took his fingers out and buried his face in
her pussy. He attacked her clit with an intensity that would have scared her
had she not already been only semi-conscious with pleasure. His tongue
collected every last drop from her lips and folds, and then he pushed inside
her with it and began dragging it up and down furiously, forcing it in deeper
and deeper until his entire tongue was inside of her pussy.


The ecstasy was nearly unbearable for Hermione. She could barely keep her eyes
open, and eventually she stopped trying, letting them slam shut as she moaned.
Her breathing was irregular and scattered. It was taking a great deal of
concentration on her part to remember to breathe.


Finally, she couldn't stand it any longer. "FUCK ME, DRACO!" she yelled. His
face lifted from between her legs and she knew he was more than eager to
comply. He growled and grabbed her legs, pulling her closer to the edge of the
chair. Standing, he positioned his cock, positively dripping precome now, at
the entrance to her pussy. He looked her in the eye, and jackhammered his
entire length into her in one thrust. He leaned over her, grabbing the top of
the chair for support as he swung his hips, slamming his cock into her.


He started by pulling out entirely, until his cock, the entire length coated in
her come, was completely exposed to the air, and then he would slam it back
inside her. She was wet enough that he could slide in and out of her easily,
but it didn't make her pussy any less tight. He groaned and managed "Merlin,
Granger..." marveling at how tight her walls were, how they clamped around his
cock. Soft, and wet, and so warm. There was absolutely nothing in the world
like it.


He crushed against her. His thighs pressed against her. Skin on skin. They
became one fluid being on that chair, moving in a perfect rhythm, completely in
sync with each other.


And then Hermione did something she'd never done before.


She motioned for him to stop. "Pull out," she whispered. He did so, a look of
curiosity on his face.


"It's time to put you to the test, Draco."


She got on her knees once more, this time still on the edge of the chair. "Hold
still," she told him. He was standing in front of the chair, his fully erect
cock covered in her come. She took her breasts in her hands, and enveloped his
cock in them. "Oh, FUCK," he cried as he felt the milky smooth skin against his
cock. His knees nearly buckled. She began to slide her breasts up and down his
cock, and he began to respond in kind, swinging his hips.


"Fuck my tits, Draco," she whispered. He groaned. "Don't you love how soft and
round they are? Don't you love how they feel against your cock?"


He couldn't manage a reply. He groaned again, and she took that for an answer.


"Come for me," she ordered. He looked up at her, surprised. "Already?" he
gasped.


"Who said we were done?" she moaned. With that, she pushed him back and dropped
to her knees on the floor once more. She grabbed his cock and slammed it in her
mouth, sucking it like she had never sucked before. She was going much too
fast, and Draco had absolutely no choice. She felt his cock twitch between her
lips, and then she felt it. His ejaculation.


Spurt after spurt of hot sticky come coated her tongue and the back of her
throat. She swallowed it all. It was salty, but almost sweet at the same time.
She found she liked the taste almost as much as she liked him comeing in her
mouth.


Draco collapsed backward into the couch behind him, struggling to catch his
breath. He was grateful the leather was cool against his skin, because he was
burning up. His platinum blond hair was matted with sweat. "Now what?" he
croaked.


"Well, I certainly haven't orgasmed yet," Hermione said, with a roguish grin.
"So you'll have to take care of that however you see fit."


"Give me a minute," Draco grinned back. It would take a bit to recover, but the
time flew past as they both rested from the extreme workout they had just
undertaken.


Hermione waited patiently, giving Draco a full ten minutes to recover. Or
something close to that, by her count. But she could only be so patient. She
was horny as hell and burning for his cock, after all. And so eventually, she
spun around the sofa so that she was facing the back on her knees. She grabbed
the top of the chair and swung her ass up so that it was the most prominent
feature of her display. "Fuck me, Draco," she growled. "Fuck me harder than you
ever have before."


"Yes," he moaned, and pushed inside of her with a fury she had never felt
before. He didn't even slow down to pull out all the way again. He started
fucking her like he was about to die. Like the world was coming down around
him, and this was the last good thing he would ever know. He pushed into her
with such force that she was sure her ass would have bruises from his pelvis.
She didn't care. She wanted him even harder. He could fuck her until her whole
body was broken and she wouldn't care. She wanted it harder.


Suddenly, his rhythm slowed, and he leaned over and whispered in her ear. "I'm
going to do something I've never done before. With anyone."


She grinned, "Bring it on, Malfoy," she said between breaths.


She had no idea what was in store until she felt what he was doing. The head of
his cock was against her ass, very slowly pushing in. She began to let out a
stream of curses that would have made Vernon Dursley blush.


Draco laughed. "Something wrong?"


"Oh, nothing," Hermione said through gritted teeth, "It only just feels like
you're TEARING ME IN HALF."


"Oh, right," Draco said quickly, pulling out.


He stuck each of his fingers in her pussy, coating them in come and rubbing
them on his cock for a lubricant. He positioned his cock against her ass again,
and pushed. This time it gave way easily, and soon half of his cock was inside
of her ass.


This time Hermione let out a moan.


"Better?" he gasped.


"Keep... fucking... going," she panted.


It was incredibly tight. Draco had thought that her pussy was tight, but it had
absolutely nothing against her ass. She seemed to be pushing against his cock
from all sides. The feeling was different too, coarser. It was just as warm as
her pussy. Draco found he enjoyed it. Hermione also found she enjoyed it, but
she liked it even more when she reached up and began to finger her pussy while
Draco fucked her ass. It was like having twice the pleasure.


When he had pushed as far as he could go, and her ass had taken as much of his
cock as she could, Draco began to build a rhythm. Because of the extreme
tightness, he could only take tiny strokes, but that also meant he could go
faster. Hermione was now positive that there would be bruising from this.


He was slamming into her ass. Thrust after thrust, his cock was stretching her
out, just as her body pushed against him. She was now rubbing her clit
furiously. "I'm getting close!" she shouted.


Draco pulled out of her ass and immediately impaled her pussy with his cock.
She was moaning his name as quickly as she could manage between breaths. She
was holding onto the chair for dear life, now, as he fucked her. He was going
so fast she couldn't keep with his rhythm. She just held still, bracing herself
for the orgasm of her life that she knew was approaching.


Eventually his name just became a continuous moan. She couldn't form coherent
words. Draco kept going faster, and faster, and faster. His hands were digging
into her hips as he thrust harder and harder, until at last he gave an almighty
cry and spilled his come inside of her.


It was bliss. There was nothing she had missed more than the feeling his come
spraying the inside of her pussy, coating her inner walls. It always drove her
over the edge. Always.


This was no exception. Her pussy clamped down around his cock and she began to
cry out as the orgasm hit her. She was screaming. She couldn't breathe, she
couldn't see, she couldn't even think. The pleasure wrapped itself around her
and consumed her whole body. She was shaking against his cock, her pussy
clenching and unclenching as she went through the most intense orgasm of her
life.


It seemed to last for ages. Waves after wave of it pounded into her, until she
was completely spent of energy, and every last drop of come had been drained
from Draco.


She fell sideways into the chair. Her mind was still reeling from what she had
experienced. Each time she was with Draco, he took her to new heights. She had
no idea that she could ever go this high. Draco, too, seemed amazed at what had
occurred.


"That was... beyond..." he began as he sat on the couch.


Hermione shushed him. "Don't bother," she said with a smile. "Words can't
explain it. But I know."


He nodded and fell silent. That was another thing they both loved. There was no
pillow talk. There was no need to try and describe their feelings for each
other. They could talk about the sex if they wanted, but there was no reason to
try and justify any sort of relationship. It had all started as an honest
mistake, and neither of them had forgotten that.


Eventually Hermione collected her clothes and got dressed once more. Draco did
the same. Finally, she said, "Well, I'll be seeing you around, Draco."


"I'd like that," he smiled back.


She departed from the Room of Requirement. She realized as she entered the hall
that the sun was setting. Ron and Harry would be looking for her. She made her
way downstairs, pleasantly unaware that, even as she set off toward the Great
Hall, with thoughts of dinner and wonderful sex in mind, Draco had vanished
through that very same wooden cabinet she had seen earlier.


In the months to come, it would haunt her. But she never told a soul. And she
never regretted it.


END
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