Disclaimer: I own nothing
A/N: so yeah, this one's darker. If you find any humor whatsoever, it wasn't intentional. This is staying a one-shot.
Hermione sighed in contentment as she stretched on the bed that had been hers for several years. Her first morning back at Hogwarts after the war. The threat of Voldemort had ended and Harry was fine. Better than fine, in fact. He was happy and in love with Ginny Weasley. If anyone deserves a little happiness, it's Harry.
Smiling, the Gryffindor rose from her bed, performed her morning ablutions, and headed down for breakfast. As she rounded a corner, she collided with something solid and it knocked her backwards.
She landed hard on the stone floor and found herself looking up into the cold, calculating grey eyes of Draco Malfoy. "Watch where you're going, Granger." He sidestepped her and continued on his way.
"What, no 'mudblood?' And you couldn't even help me up? So much for a Pureblood knowing how to be a gentleman," she spat.
"My not calling you that derogatory term was me being a gentleman. And I highly doubt you'd have been willing to touch me anyway, even to get off the floor. Death Eater, remember?" He never slowed or turned as he responded.
"Ugh! What an asshole. It's obvious the war taught him absolutely nothing." Hermione hoisted herself up and entered the Hall.
Her annoyance with the Slytherin was quickly forgotten as she took her seat next to her boyfriend, Ronald Weasley. Ah, Ron. She'd waited for so long to be with him. He was safe, and reliable, and sweet, in his oafish way. And he finally loved her. She rolled her eyes as he greeted her with food in his mouth, but couldn't find it in her to be that annoyed; after all, it wasn't like she didn't know his habits.
Harry and Ginny wished her a good morning, and Harry reminded them all that it was a Hogsmeade weekend. As adults and war veterans, those repeating seventh year were told to be back by Sunday night instead of being given an evening curfew. This did not extend to Gin, who was a year behind the Golden Trio, but she and Harry would make the most of the day (Ron emphatically did NOT want the details). Hermione couldn't help grinning as she watched Ginny torture her older brother.
Walking to classes, Ron appeared to be nervous about something, and he finally confided in the hallway that he had purchased a room for the next night. Would she be willing to stay there with him? She colored as she considered the implications. The ginger was quick to assure her that they didn't have to do anything she didn't want to, but would she think about it?
She took only a moment to agree, and then they were in front of the Potions classroom. Apparently disgusted with their slowness, Malfoy knocked them out of the way and entered first.
Potions with the Slytherins wasn't the same without Professor Snape. She never thought she would miss the greasy, grouchy old git, but it was obvious to everyone in the room that something was missing. Well, everyone except Professor Slughorn, who remained cheerfully oblivious.
It seemed forever until Saturday morning, and Hermione could hardly contain her excitement as she walked to the village with her friends. They split up shortly after lunch so Harry and Gin could have some private time, and after dinner she and Ron headed for the Leaky Cauldron, where he'd rented a room. Ron had been rather quiet all day, but not unpleasant. She chalked it up to nerves about his plans for the night.
He put those plans into motion almost immediately after she shut the bedroom door. Hermione was surprised at how swiftly he approached, and how tightly he held her. He began with sweet kisses, relaxing her until she was ready for a bit more urgency. As the kisses became more intense, he backed her up to the bed, pushing her down and covering her body.
His lips were ghosting against the skin of her throat and giving her shivers. "Please, 'Mione...I've wanted you for so long. I love you. Let me show you." He nipped at her jugular then gazed deeply into her eyes. "Make love with me."
"But, Ron-"
"Don't say it's wrong, or that you aren't ready. We've known each other forever, and we just survived a bloody war. Please, love. I need you." His crystal blue eyes begged her as he touched his forehead to hers. He moved to nibble her ear, and he could feel her resolve snap.
"Oh...Ron," when she finally decided to participate, he found he'd unleashed a hellcat. What she lacked in experience (a lot) was more than compensated for by sheer enthusiasm. The snogging turned to heavy petting, and when her hand touched him tentatively over his trousers, he thought he'd lose it right then. Best to get the focus back on her, or this would be over too soon.
He moved her hand away from him, chuckling at the pout he received in response. "Soon, Hermione. But now, let me take care of you, yeah?" She nodded in breathless assent, and he Vanished their clothes.
His fingers were magic. She couldn't understand how her sweet, fumbling boyfriend could suddenly set her nerve endings afire. He kissed her expertly as he rubbed her, then stroked softly. When he found her drenched, he slowly inserted one long finger, rubbing circles along her front wall. Hermione thought Ron would have to scrape her off the ceiling when he did that. He continued until she felt she'd screamed herself raw, and she actually hurt from the force of the orgasms he had given her.
Still caressing her lightly, he went back to kissing her neck. He continued downward until he reached her left breast, where he used lips, tongue and teeth to drive her completely mad. "You're still a virgin, aren't you?"
She gave him a strange look. "You know I am, Ronald. Why would you ask that?"
"Just...double-checking. I want to make this right for you." He resumed teasing her body, and she forgot the exchange.
When he switched from lapping to sucking, she began panting heavily, and pleading with him to take her. He smiled. Took her long enough to be ready, but it was going to be so worth it. After all these years, the sweet, innocent little Gryffindor Princess would be his. No matter what else happened in his life, no one could take this from him. He'd always be her first.
He entered her slowly, rubbing her belly to soothe her as she learned what it was to be filled. They both felt the moment her hymen ruptured, and he whispered encouraging endearments to her until the pain passed. When she finally felt pleasure, he moved his fingers from her abdomen to stroke lower.
The first time was slow and sweet. He touched her like she was made of faery wings, and he was proud to know she had enjoyed her deflowering. The delightful sounds she made were proof.
Once they had ascertained that Hermione was fine and ready to continue, he began to introduce more vigor into their lovemaking, until he was riding her hard while she screamed.
Shortly after the third round, he nipped into the loo, and Hermione decided to lie in wait outside, ready to pounce on her lover as he exited.
Soon enough he came out and she grabbed him, kissing him deeply. Immediately after the kiss began, she pulled back in confusion.
"What is that taste?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "What taste?"
"That taste. I know that taste." Hermione looked utterly horrified. "Why the hell are you drinking Polyjuice?"
And there it was: that slow, evil smirk she'd hated for years, taking over Ron's open face. Hermione felt herself begin to collapse as her legs gave way under her. He caught her, and pulled her back to the bed, setting her upon it.
"No. Oh, God no. Malfoy? Why would you want to do this? This can't..."
"On the contrary, my dear Granger, it can and it is. Or perhaps I should say it has. Three times, to be exact." He held up three fingers and wiggled them for emphasis. It sickened her to think what those digits had done.
"But why? I'm a filthy Mudblood to you. There is absolutely no reason for you to want to touch me. You wouldn't even help me up the other day. Was this just to torture me?"
"You aren't thinking clearly. I said that you wouldn't want to touch me. I haven't claimed any aversion to you since the war ended. If I'd just wanted to torture you, do you think I'd have cared to make your first time amazing?"
"It wasn't amazing." She refused to look at him.
"Bullshit. It was, and we both know it." He moved closer to her on the bed. She backed away. He sighed.
"I've wanted you since Fourth year. Maybe even Third. But I knew the only way you'd go near me was if I was someone else."
"And how do you know I won't turn you in? You took my virginity, you selfish bastard! What makes you think I won't tell Ron? You know he wouldn't believe this was consensual. And where is Ron? If you did something to him-"
"He's fine. And you're right, up to a point." The self-admitted 'selfish bastard' reclined on his elbows. "Even though Weasel would know on a logical level that you didn't come to my bed on purpose, part of him would never, ever be able to forget that you'd been with me first. He'd wonder forever how he measured up, and even if you reassured him, there would always be a part that wouldn't believe you."
"What did you do to him?"
"Slipped him a potion that will keep him unconscious until tomorrow night, at which point I'll Obliviate him."
"He'll know I'm not a virgin the first time I'm with him."
Malfoy looked pained. "He won't. I plan to give him a modified version of my memories of tonight. As far as he'll know, he popped your cherry during a smashing night at the Leaky Cauldron."
"This cannot be happening. What now?"
"The room's paid up for the rest of the night. Come back to bed."
"Are you insane? You really expect that I would let you touch me?"
"Why not? I've been touching you all night, and you've loved every second of it. No point in getting self-righteous now. Even if we never do this again, just give me the rest of tonight, Granger. Do that and I swear I'll never tell anyone this happened."
"You'll take a Wizard's Oath to that effect?"
"I will. Please, just tonight." He reached for her and against her better judgment she conceded, letting him pull her back into his arms.
It was surreal knowing that the body on top of her looked like Ron's, though it was undeniably her childhood enemy. And now that she was aware of his true identity, he was making love to her with even more tenderness and fervor, impossible as it seemed. If one could have sex in a reverent fashion, she supposed that would be the best descriptor.
She was atop him when the potion began to wear off, and he saw her instinctive recoil as he returned to his true form. He held her hips tightly to him, and locked eyes with her as the change ended, refusing to let her pretend. "Look at me, Granger," he ordered in a low voice.
Seeing Draco's face and feeling him inside of her caused a most unexpected reaction.
"Oh Merlin...MALFOY!" Hermione came so hard, the room spun. Her clamping down on his member caused him to have a mind-blowing orgasm, and he had to catch her as he saw her eyes roll back in her head.
He laid her down and covered her with the duvet. She stirred slightly, and he whispered "It's okay, go back to sleep. The 'I love you' was real, you know." He kissed her forehead, dressed and Disapparated.
They never spoke of that night again, and he stayed silent as she married the Weasel. When they saw each other at public functions, or the 9 3/4 Platform, they remained distantly polite and played the parts society had assigned them. But he could see how her eyes blazed at him lustfully when she thought no one was looking, and he was aware of his dissatisfaction with his own mate.
He sighed. Maybe next lifetime. Until then, thank Merlin for personal pensieves and good hiding places.