crazy

Hermione Jean Granger, age 23, considered herself quite an unusual woman. First and foremost: she was a witch. Yes, a witch, one armed with a wooden stick - er, a wand - and practically a library full of books full of spells to be used in any way needed. Now, Hermione Jean Granger led a normal life to outsiders. She lived in a messy flat with her boyfriend's sister. (That was a long story). She was best friends with her flatmate's boyfriend. (A much shorter story). And, she was dating her flatmate's brother and her best friend's flatmate.

The flatmate's name was Ginny Weasley, the best friend's name was Harry Potter and the boyfriend's name was Ronald Weasley, Ron for short, although Hermione called him Ronald when she was frustrated with him. We'll come back to them later. Possibly,

In the moment that I was describing to you the names of the flatmate, the best friend and the boyfriend, Hermione Jean Granger was rushing about her flat in an attempt to collect various belongings of her, for she had overslept. 'Oh, my bloody hair!' she cried, staring into the mirror. Because staring back at her was a frazzled-looking witch with poufy hair. Such poufy hair. Hermione looked at her watch; she had two minutes until she was due to leave.

In desperation, she dropped to her knees, opened the cabinet under the sink and began scrabbling around for a faithful old friend. 'HA!' she exclaimed, finding the bottle at last and standing. 'Ow!' She had banged her head on the sink in her rising. 'Dammit,' Hermione whimpered. 'That hurt.' Blinking away tears of pain, she opened the bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion and dumped it on her hair. Then, while using her wand to guide the potion into smoothing her hair, she rooted through the mess on her desk for the neatly-stapled together papers due at Kingsley's office this morning. She found them and sighed with relief.

Then she turned on the spot and practically raced to her fireplace after catching sight of the time. She grabbed a fistful of Floo powder, dropped it into the fire and shouted, 'The Ministry of Magic!' And just like that, Hermione Jean Granger's day had begun.

The hands on the clock hanging in Hermione's office were so close to twelve o'clock that it hurt, and Hermione had to force herself to concentrate on reading a letter she had received from an Elvish Rights Spokesperson stationed in the United States. But time and time again she would find herself glancing at the clock, and when it finally struck twelve she breathed a sigh of relief and shoved the letter into a random drawer.

Hermione exited her office, locked it and turned to her assistant. 'Delilah, I'm going to go out for lunch. What's on my agenda for the rest of the afternoon?'

'You have a meeting with some Senior Associates at half past,' Delilah answered promptly, 'and then you're free.'

'Brilliant. Thanks, Delilah.' Hermione headed to the Flooing fireplaces with a spring in her step. She only had one meeting and then she could go home - perhaps invite Ron over for dinner - have him spend the night...'Oof!' Hermione slammed into somebody as she rounded the corner and stumbled backwards. She was about to hit the floor when a strong grasp caught her arm and pulled her up.

'Watch your step,' a smooth voice drawled, and Hermione recoiled as she recognised that voice to be the one belonging to Lucius Malfoy.

'Mr Malfoy,' she greeted with a curt nod. 'What are you doing here?'

'In the Ministry of Magic, or your level?' He smirked as she held back a sigh. 'I have a meeting at half past with fellow Senior Associates, the Minister and you...if I'm not mistaken.'

'You are not,' Hermione affirmed robotically, heart beginning to race. Lucius Malfoy was going to be at her meeting? Bloody hell. 'I'm actually off to get lunch, so if you don't mind...' She dashed off before he could reply.

Over a classic lunch of fish and chips, Hermione pondered why Lucius Malfoy was showing up to a Senior Associate meeting now and how the bloody hell she was going to survive the meeting. She treated herself to a coffee with fifteen minutes until her meeting in order to calm herself.

She was sipping the black coffee (a personal favorite) when she realised she had three minutes to get back to the Ministry. 'Shit!' she muttered, standing up abruptly and nearly spilling hot coffee on herself. 'Shit, shit, shit!' Hermione sprinted out of the coffee shop and desperately to a back alley where she could Apparate into the Ministry. She wasn't supposed to do that unless it was an emergency - but this was. So Hermione turned on her heel and Disapparated. And crashed into someone. Again.

She shrieked, and the two tumbled down.

'Bloody hell, woman!' the figure under her cursed. 'What is your problem?'

'Oh, shit,' Hermione swore, staring into the cold grey eyes of Lucius Malfoy. 'Again?'

'Get off, you spilled your fucking coffee on me,' Malfoy spat at her, shoving her off his knees. 'Did no one ever tell you not to Apparate into the Ministry?'

'I was going to be late,' Hermione cried mournfully.

'Yes, well, we're really going to be late now!' Malfoy snarled at her, staring at the brown stain on his dark green robes.

'I am so, so sorry,' Hermione whispered. 'Wait - here.' She drew out a few napkins from her pocket and offered them to him with shaking hands.

'Keep the damn napkins an go get ready,' Malfoy snapped, pulling his wand out.

'Yes - okay.' Hermione dashed off. Ironically, she had crashed into Malfoy earlier in the same exact spot, so her office was not far, and the briefcase containing her points and notes for the meeting lay beside her desk. She snatched it up and ran off again, determined not to be late.

Lucius Malfoy had been staring at Hermione for the entire meeting and it was unnerving her, because every time she looked at him he was looking back at her with cold calculation in his eyes. She always looked hastily away, but she could have sworn she saw the slightest smirk cross his face every time she did this.

The meeting ran overtime, as it normally did, and when it ended Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and began collecting her things.

At the door she paused and looked back. He was staring again. Their eyes met for just a fraction of a second; then Hermione turned and hurried out. A low chuckle followed her.

Those cold grey eyes haunted Hermione while she finished cleaning off her desk for the day and finally she could stand it no longer. She exited her office and requested that Delilah reach Mr Malfoy and send him in as soon as possible. With that, Hermione retreated back into her office and shut the door, relishing the peace and security four solid walls and a wooden door gave her.

A knock sounded.

Hermione cursed the efficiency of her assistant. 'Come in,' she called. Lucius Malfoy entered her office, stooping slightly to pass under the doorframe. 'Shut the door,' Hermione ordered. Malfoy complied, his eyes never leaving hers as he did so.

'I never imagined I'd be taking orders from a Mudblood,' he commented. Hermione bristled but said nothing, gesturing at the chair in front of her.

He sat, crossing his long legs and stretching them out under the desk. Hermione gasped as his feet brushed hers; he smirked.

'You were staring at me during the meeting,' she said. 'I'd like to know why.' He continued to look at her, those grey eyes burning into her. They stared for quite a while. Then all of a sudden, he stood..

'Mudbloods are filthy creatures,' he murmured. 'They are not magical. They have not one ounce of magic in them. I despise them. So why was I staring?' Hermione began to rebuke him angrily but he held up his finger and she fell silent. 'Under normal circumstances, I find you as fascinating as a doorknob,' he went on. 'But today - yes, today is different.' He circled round her desk till he was standing a mere metre from her.

'I felt a power in you,' he said. 'A strength. Something that if it is angered, it will roar - rather like your precious Gryffindor lion.

'Mudbloods should not be like this. Mudbloods should not roar. I am curious as to why a Mudblood like yourself as such fire. And I want to feel that fire. To experience what it's like. To taste it. And that, Miss Granger, was why I was staring at you.'

Hermione was frozen in shock and horror.

'You - you need to go,' she managed. 'Right now.' Malfoy smiled. 'Oh, I think not.'

He flicked his wand and the door locked itself.

'Malfoy - '

'Muffliato,' Malfoy whispered. 'I want to feel the fire, Miss Granger.' And with that he bent his head and kissed her.

It was not a romantic kiss. Oh, no. It was not romantic in anyway. It was also highly inappropriate. So Hermione squirmed underneath his lips, trying not to moan and trying to ignore the throbbing that had begun in her center.

'Please go,' she said shakily. He smiled again. 'I must finish what I have started.' He pulled her from her chair and pushed her on her desk, the one she had cleaned perhaps thirty minutes earlier. Then he kissed her again, this time bringing his hands up to unbutton her blouse. Hermione writhed under him. He broke contact once more.

'Now, now,' he said. 'Settle down. You can either enjoy this or not. I will enjoy it either way. But you - you should enjoy it. Because it's sex with Lucius Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. This is a one-time offer.' He kissed her for the third time and oddly enough, Hermione did not protest, even as he pulled her blouse from her body and unclasped her bra. In her mind she was screaming, 'Get away from me!' But her body was thinking other things and would not obey her mind.

Malfoy stroked her breasts delicately with one finger, fondling them before bending his head to place butterfly kisses on the flesh. His tongue darted out and flicked her hardened nipple. Hermione moaned before she could stop herself. He took the whole nipple in his mouth, sucking on it as he would a hard candy, and lavished equal attention on the other before kissing down her stomach and to her jeans. There he paused and Hermione moaned again.

Taking this as a sign to continue, Malfoy unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them from her hips, sliding them off her legs and discarding them. Then he did the same to her underwear, and Hermione Granger lay fully naked on a desk in front of Lucius Malfoy. He stared down at her naked body before hurriedly throwing his robes off. Underneath he wore a black ensemble and he ripped it off his body in a flash.

Then he was at her again, pushing his finger through the mound of curls in between her legs and spreading her knees as he did so. A long digit entered her slowly but surely and she gasped. He smirked at the sound and added another, pulling it in and out painfully slowly. His thumb casually stroked her clit. Hermione's knees jerked. 'Not so fast,' he said. His thumb began rubbing circles over her clit. Hermione couldn't stop herself from gasping. Ron was great at sex - he really was - but this was beyond all pleasure she had ever experienced.

'I'm going to come,' she hissed, knees jerking nonstop now as the burning feeling in her rose and her body tightened.

'That's the idea,' Malfoy drawled, but without warning he pulled his hand from her pussy. Hermione bucked her hips in the air desperately, begging for those wicked fingers. When they did not return, her hand drifted down to her pussy in hopes of possibly releasing herself. But quick as a flash he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head. Then, without a warning, he pushed into her, the head of his cock driving deep into her and his balls slapping her leg. Hermione screamed at the feeling of being full. He began pumping into her furiously, and as the two moved with each other in the rhythm of lovemaking, Hermione experienced a harmony she'd never before felt with Ron.

Her fingers twined with the fingers of Malfoy's left hand above her head as his right hand came to smooth circles on her clit once more and once more, Hermione found herself on the edge of coming again. Malfoy drove into her harder and faster and as he did so, he brushed soft kisses over her lips, coming closer himself. And then in one fluid moment they came, Hermione shrieking as she did so and Malfoy breathing out heavily. He rested, still inside her, cock still trembling from the exertion.

Then he pulled out of her and began dressing.

Hermione was still in a post-orgasmic haze when he left.

Is it bad of me to say I'd love for him to do that to me? I should think not.

I hope you enjoyed it, please review :)

-SeverusandHermioneAlways