Dedication: To my amazing alpha / beta, PartyLines

Part 1

It feels good to call her a filthy mudblood. He wants her to waver from the slick of disgust in his voice; for a moment, she does. Then her eyes harden and her nostrils flare; he likes that too.

"Get out of my way, Malfoy," she snaps.

"Can't, mudblood." He relishes how she flinches again at the word. "I'm sure Umbridge wants to know why you're lurking about the restricted section after hours."

She moves quickly. Before he can draw his wand, hers is pressed into his chest.

"Must be nice," she says. "First Snape, and now Umbridge too. I'm surprised Lucius is still bribing your professors from Azkaban."

He knows she's only goading him to distract from whatever text she'd just hurriedly shoved into her book bag. He knows that he has more pressing things to worry about, like the barely healed gashes scattered over his abdomen from Potter's curse, or the memory of his mother's torture sitting in his pensieve, or his growing disillusionment with his father's continued commitment to a power-drunk mad man. It's already after two in the morning, which means he only has a few valuable hours left to tinker with the broken cabinet before classes start. He doesn't have time to play cat and mouse with Granger, but he can't resist her as an outlet for his inner wretchedness.

He leans forward into her wand. "That's right. What are you going to do? Curse me and Umbridge will have your arse expelled."

She swallows hard. He almost laughs at the look of fright that unfolds across her face. Bloody swot. Of course, expulsion is what scares her most.

While she's momentarily off guard, he easily disarms her with a flick of his wrist. He barely manages to pocket her wand before she tackles him with a snarl. She's vicious, but he's more agile. It should only require minor effort to incapacitate her, but he's sore and slow from his recent injuries. She manages to clock his jaw and scratch his face before he pins her to the ground.

"Get off!" Her voice is strained from his weight.

Her dark hair is splayed wildly against the ancient Hogwarts carpet, and her doe eyes are wide with alarm. Despite the chaos of their tussle, he registers that she's soft and pretty and vulnerable. His erection grows between them, and she must feel it too for she struggles all the more.

He's taller, heavier, stronger. Her wrists are easily gripped in his hands beside her head, and her legs are splayed around him. He knows he can do anything to her right now and get away with it. He's seen the likes of Thorfinn Rowle and Antonin Dolohov take advantage of whimpering muggle women, and in this moment, it'd be so easy to become that sort of man. It simultaneously turns him on and makes him sick.

"Draco, please," she begs. He realizes she's crying hot tears against his collarbone as she wriggles against him.

He pulls back and glares down at her. He's disgusted by own depraved thoughts, and how lesser than he feels despite having overpowered her. She's little miss perfect in all the worst ways - sanctimonious and brimming with hero complex entitlement - while he's slated to become their headmaster's murderer. He's not about to become a rapist too. At least he's not that.

"Relax, mudblood. As if I'd sully myself with the likes of you."

He lets go of her wrists, and is about to deduct some house points and send her off to bed when she surprises him by reaching down and cupping his length. The squeeze of her hand almost makes him come instantly.

"Fuck," he breathes. "What are you doing?"

"Hypocrite," she sneers. "You're obviously turned on by me."

He doesn't argue, and he doesn't stop her as she continues to stroke him.

"You like this," she accuses again. "Funny how hard you are for a filthy mudblood."

He wants to say something scathing back, but it's hard to think when Hermione Granger is touching his dick, and it's the best, worst thing to ever happen to him.

When he doesn't respond, she reaches into his robes and fishes out his bare cock straining at attention. He wonders where, when, with whom she's learned to do this. He lets her push him onto his back, watching mesmerized as she kneels between his legs and rounds her spine over his hardness.

In the next moments, all that matters is the gentle flick of her little pink tongue against the head of his length, and then the lovely warmth of her mouth as she takes him all the way to the back of her throat. Up, down, swirl.

This night has certainly taken an interesting turn.

The comparison to Pansy is inevitable. The other girl was all sultry moans and hungry slobber, with assets he certainly enjoyed up until their recent break up. Granger is different - slower, deeper, controlled. There's no subservient glance up; rather, she takes him smugly, like she'll later lord over him how he sat there dumbly, weakly, paralyzed by pleasure.

He wants to reach down and finger her core, make her lose control the way he's about to, but he doesn't know what the rules are here and he doesn't want to scare her away.

"Admit how much you like getting pleasured by a mudblood," she insists when she breaks away for air.

He groans at the loss of contact, but the reprieve from her mouth helps clear his mind a little.

"I'm not going to call you a mudblood while you're giving me head," he snaps. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Granger?"

She sits back on her heels.

"Nothing," she hisses, "is wrong with me."

He sighs when she wraps her mouth around him again. Her throat is so tight around the head of his cock, and fuck, she's found that spot behind his balls that jolts pleasure up his spine. He tilts his head back, closes his eyes, and even then, all he can see is her tear-streaked anger as he comes in her mouth. Through his orgasm, she sucks and licks and milks him with her mouth. It's perfect, like everything else she does.

When he opens his eyes again, she's standing with her wand pointed down at him. His dick is still hard, poking out lewdly from his robes. He's sure his eyes are still glazed over from endorphins.

"Don't follow me." Then, she spins on her heels, grabs her bag, and walks away.

Author's note: Sorry not sorry for such shameless smut. Stay tuned for parts 2 and 3. Reviews always appreciated!

xoxo,

bourbonrain