Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Warner Bros Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Draco glanced at his watch and tapped his foot anxiously. The sooner this experiment in insanity was over, the sooner he could get on with his business. He took a seat in the back of the church and looked around. As much as he hated to admit it, the church was absolutely stunning.
The decorations were tastefully done in white and red. Warm candlelight filled the sanctuary and Draco noticed that the entire church was strewn with white and red rose petals. The flower arrangements at the altar were stunning as well. Very fitting, thought Draco. White and red are the perfect colours if you're getting married on Valentine's Day.
Draco hated weddings. Though he was only twenty-eight, he'd already been divorced twice. The money he paid in alimony was enough to feed several wizarding families for an entire year. Weddings didn't make sense. The only purpose a wedding served was to take a great relationship and destroy it beyond repair.
He wouldn't have come at all if it hadn't meant so much to Pansy. Though they hadn't spoken in several years, Draco was still fond of his childhood friend and wouldn't dare deny her request. Even if that request was to attend the wedding of The Boy Who Lived.
Just then, the minister, Harry Potter, and his grooms-men walked up to the altar. Draco sighed loudly and tried not to roll his eyes. The only thing that had changed between Harry and Draco over the years was that they didn't hex each other at each possible chance. They both worked together at the Ministry. What was worse, they both worked in the same department, so carrying on their childish shenanigans was not an option. Harry Potter was responsible for the near downfall of the Malfoy name when he sent Draco's father to Azkaban. After the war, and the subsequent defeat of Lord Voldemort, Harry had helped Draco restore the honour to the Malfoy name by publicly announcing Draco's effort in fighting the Death Eaters. Leave to Harry Potter to be so fucking noble about it all, Draco thought bitterly.
Even after all that, Draco still didn't like Harry. He couldn't put his dislike for Harry in words, but it was there, just under the surface. How Pansy ever fell for that git is a mystery, thought Draco.
The music began and all the guests stood, turning around to catch a glimpse of the bride as she made her way down the aisle. Draco had no problem understanding why Harry had fallen for Pansy. Pansy was gorgeous. She had long, slender legs, narrow waist, beautiful eyes and her rosy red lips looked like they were just begging to be kissed. I should have slept with her when I had the chance, Draco said to himself as he watched her walk down the aisle.
Draco made several lists of things to accomplish upon his return to London as the minister droned on and on. Blah blah blah, love, honour, and cherish. He swore he'd only stop at the reception long enough to congratulate Pansy and then he'd be on his way. Only long enough to say hello, he thought, his stomach turning at the sight of Harry and Pansy's post-nuptial kiss.
The reception hall was packed full of people chatting merrily. Draco grabbed a glass of champagne and gulped it down, scanning the crowd for someone worth talking to.
Pansy and Harry had yet to arrive. Draco assumed they were still taking photographs. That's what had always held him up from the reception, Draco remembered. He grabbed another glass of champagne and sauntered over to a few Aurors he recognized from work.
Six glasses of champagne later, everything sounded funny to Draco. Pansy and Harry had finally arrived, both of them slightly tipsy as well. Draco was beginning to enjoy himself, even singing a few songs with Millicent Bulstrode on the karaoke machine, for old time's sake.
Suddenly, he realized he needed to relieve himself. Stumbling out of the reception hall, he made his way to the restrooms. The line for the men's room was, for once, longer than the line for the women's room. Too drunk to care, Draco pushed open the door to the women's room and ran into a stall.
Once his bladder was relieved, he washed his hands quickly and ran his fingers through his hair. He turned to his left when he felt someone staring at him.
Granger. In a dress. A black one. Draco arched an eyebrow at her and said slyly, "Would you like a picture since you can't seem to take your eyes off of me?"
Hermione placed her hands on her hips and hissed, "This is a woman's bathroom, Malfoy. Is there something you need to tell me?"
"Are you challenging my manhood?" Draco placed his hands on his hips, returning Hermione's glare.
"There's nothing to challenge. Two failed marriages tells me all I need to know." Hermione smirked and turned back to face the mirror, fingering a few curls.
Draco was livid. He grabbed Hermione by the arm, turned her around and pushed her against a wall. After that he kissed her with his tongue forcefully gaining
entrance into her mouth. She tried to pull away, but Draco was too strong; his arms wrapped around her tightly, giving her no choice but to kiss him back.
Draco let his arms wander down to Hermione's hips and she groaned in pleasure when he pulled her closer to him; his erection was impossible to miss. One hand still held tightly on her hip, the other reached up and pinched her nipples, drawing out several gasps from Hermione.
And then, as quickly as it started, it was over. Draco let Hermione go, watching her stumble backwards.
"You're a sucker for knowledge, Granger. Come solve the puzzle of my manhood. My flat. Twenty minutes."
He left her there, not looking back to see her hastily gathering her things and trying to catch her breath. He walked quickly, wanting to give Pansy his regards, but he was met with a wand in his face instead.
"What did you do to her?" Ron Weasley asked, his wand still pointed between Draco's eyes.
"To who? Granger?"
"Of course to Hermione. I saw you go in there. Why hasn't she come out yet? What did you do?"
"I peed, you idiot. How am I supposed to know why she hasn't come out yet? If you're so worried, go ask her yourself. Now, get that wand out of my face before I snap it in two. I've got things to do."
Ron cast another angry look at him and then stormed off. Draco smirked a little and made his way through the crowded room to find Pansy. It didn't take long to spot her. She was completely inebriated and was destroying the Rolling Stones song, "Satisfaction."
She dropped the microphone when she noticed Draco standing there with a silly grin on his face. She ran over and embraced him.
"Draco, oh, I'm so glad you came," she cried happily. "This is just fabulous!"
"Well, Pansy Potter," he said, emphasising her new surname, "as much as I'd love to stay, I must be off. Duty calls. And besides, you know happiness makes me nauseous."
She nodded and gave him another hug. "I understand, Draco. I'll owl you after the honeymoon. We should get together soon!"
He used Floo powder to get back to his flat, as he didn't trust himself to Apparate after all the champagne he had. He checked for messages and went straight to his bedroom, where he lit a few candles.
How dare Granger suggest that he didn't possess the equipment to get the job done? I'll show her, he thought, undressing quickly and throwing on a black silk robe. By the time I'm through with her, she'll be begging for more.
Just then, there was a loud knock on the door. Draco stretched languidly on his bed, listening to Hermione's pleasant greeting to his butler.
He heard her walk up the stairs and when she finally arrived at his bedroom, she smiled slightly at the sight of him. Though she'd never admit it, the idea of finally getting to see Draco in the Full Monty excited her greatly.
She didn't say a word; she simply walked over to his bed and sat on the edge. Before she knew it, a large black dog was in her lap, trying to lick her face.
"Kaiser, DOWN," Draco shouted to his Doberman Pinscher. The dog cast one longing look at Hermione before begrudgingly getting out of her lap. Kaiser whimpered slightly and left the room.
Draco got up and shut the door. "I'm sorry about my dog, Granger," he said softly. "We've been training him for weeks, but he just refuses to be mean. He thinks he's a bloody lapdog. Isn't karma a bitch?"
Hermione nodded and took off her cloak. She kicked off her heels and laid back on his bed. "So, Malfoy, let's get on with it."
He smiled at her. "Don't be shy, Granger. Just remember, you asked for it."
He sauntered over to the bed, his intense gaze causing Hermione to look away, as if she wasn't quite sure what possessed her to come to him. He stopped at the foot of the bed and removed his robe.
Hermione gasped audibly at the sight of him. The candlelight in the room cast a soft glow around him, making his already pale skin look translucent.
He slithered onto the bed, his eyes never leaving Hermione's. His hands gracefully slid up her thighs, pulling her dress robes up as well. Hermione sat up briefly, pulling the satin fabric over her head.
Draco loomed above her, taking in the sight of her nearly nude body.
Draco laughed softly. Hermione's underclothes didn't match. She was wearing a violet bra and plain, white, cotton knickers.
"Granger, really," he said playfully, "you didn't have to dress up just for me."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Malfoy, this is the last place I expected to be tonight. Do you want to do this or not?"
She took Malfoy's silence as a "yes", and wasted no further time. With a snap of her fingers, her bra was undone and she shimmied out of it, leaving Draco with his mouth hanging open. Her knickers were next. Hermione slipped out of them swiftly, and then pulled Draco down on top of her and kissed him hungrily.
Their fiery kiss lasted for nearly ten minutes before Draco couldn't stand it any longer. He nuzzled against her neck and pulled her hips up towards his erection. He pushed himself into her quickly, and Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.
Draco pounded her relentlessly. As much as he wanted to make love to Hermione tenderly, he was overwhelmed with the need to defend his manhood. Each forceful thrust of his hips caused muffled words of appreciation to spill out of Hermione's mouth. Each time her hips arched up to meet his vigorous thrusts, Draco got chills and his resolve strengthened.
He pulled her closer to him and grinned wickedly as her legs rested on each side of his head. Her moans were suddenly louder, more pained, and Draco knew she was on the brink of release. He had one arm wrapped around her leg for balance, so he let his other arm wander down to Hermione's hot spot. He rubbed his thumb roughly across her clitoris, enjoying the surprised gasps he was drawing out of her. He continued this torrid plundering of her body until he felt her become rigid, her hands clawing desperately at his back, and he shivered when he heard her whimper in sheer ecstasy. She went limp underneath him and Draco knew she'd had her fill.
But he wasn't done with her yet. He fucked her harder and quicker, groaning with pleasure as she began to kiss him again. He was like an animal, furrowing himself inside of her, unable to think coherently, only focusing on the task at hand.
Without warning, Draco's orgasm hit him like a tidal wave. He grunted and moaned, shaking as wave after wave of satisfaction washed over him. Finally, he pulled out of her and collapsed next to her, completely spent.
She pulled on her white cotton knickers, accio'd her bra, and pulled her robes back over her head. As she slipped on her shoes and smoothed out her hair, she turned to smile at Draco, who was still lying naked in the tangled satin sheets.
"Aren't you going to ask where I'm going?" Hermione said as she walked to the door to leave.
Draco just stared at her. He looked her up and down, grinning with satisfaction that he was the reason her robes were so wrinkled. He sat up and pulled on his own robe. "It doesn't matter where you're going; you'll be back here before the night is over."
She arched an eyebrow at him, disgusted by his arrogance. "Is that so?"
Draco nodded. "Yes, that's so. But, to appease you, I'll ask. Where are you going?"
She smiled and said, "Back to the reception. I'm supposed to give a speech in fifteen minutes."
Draco laughed. It pleased him greatly that Hermione would be giving a speech at old Scarhead's wedding after just having been fucked unmercifully by him. He stood up and walked over to her.
"Go," he said as he placed soft kisses on her neck, "and have a lovely time. The back door will be unlocked when you return."
She rolled her eyes and said sarcastically, "If, Draco. If I return." She left him standing there, and as Draco heard the door close, he whispered, "When."
Hermione let herself in through the back door a mere forty minutes later, hating Draco for being right and hating herself more for not being able to resist him.