Draco's creepy obsession with Hermione comes to fruition.
Pensophile
"Imperio." I whisper the words, but the power of the spell courses through me with a strength that mimics how much I want this.
She stills, awaiting my command.
Come here. I am satisfied to see her turn from the moonlit street to join me in the shadows. I've been practicing my control over this spell for weeks, holding subjects under for as long as four hours. This shouldn't take that long, maybe half that time, but I can't take any chances. It was hard enough to get her alone. Her fiancé never lets her out of his sight. In fact, he's probably waiting for her at The Leaky Cauldron where I know she meets him, Potter, and Ginny Weasley for drinks every Tuesday night. But she won't be showing up tonight. Perhaps Weasley should have met her at work and walked with her. Though the Dark Lord is gone, it's still unsafe for a woman to walk alone at night. Especially a woman as effortlessly beautiful as Granger.
Put your arms around my waist. I need to apparate her away quickly. It's unlikely anyone could see us in this alley. I chose it for just that reason, but still…no need to take chances.
Her arms slide around me and I pull her body up against mine. Good girl. For a moment, I'm distracted by her soft curves. I can feel her breasts pressing into my chest. I bury my face in her hair and take a deep breath. She smells like soap and something else, maybe mint.
I feel something hard on my hip and I realize it's the wand in her pocket. I remove it and use it to apparate us both to my flat.
I bring us to the room I've prepared. It's my bedroom. I want to do this here for two reasons. First, utility. This room already has a bed and…mirrors. And second, I want these memories here. I want my bed to smell like her. To remind me of her every time I'm here.
"Have a seat," I say, out loud this time. There's no reason to be quiet anymore. This room has silencing charms all around it. I ward the door just in case my control slips and she tries to run.
She's sitting in the chair next to the window. Her face is blank, impassive. So unlike the way she would be if she wasn't under my control. I don't like it. "Smile," I tell her.
She smiles perfectly. I've seen this smile on her face before but never pointed at me. I can't help but smile back. "Do you remember me?"
It's only been a year since the final battle, so I know she does. She nods her head but doesn't speak. She looks like a statue. It's unnatural. "Cross your legs," I tell her, "and you don't have to keep smiling. Only smile when you're speaking."
The smile drops from her face.
"Now, what's my name?"
"Draco Malfoy," she says. The smile returns and I feel a touch of arousal watching her lips say my name.
"First names only," I tell her.
She nods again. I want to get started, but I also want to find out some things about her. Get some honest answers. "How do you feel about me?"
"I don't like you," she says. She's looking at me with dead eyes and it seems like she means it.
I am uncomfortable, like I expect her to laugh. "Why?" I notice my voice is a little defensive.
Her answer is given with that same smile. The smile I told her to wear. "You hate me because of my blood. It's unfair and small-minded. You've hurt a lot of people and you're painfully arrogant."
I feel myself sneer, but now is not the time for a character debate. "Alright, do you find me physically attractive?"
She looks at me, appraising me. "Yes," she says after awhile.
I grin. "Specifically, what do you like?"
She opens her mouth to answer but I interrupt. "Wait; open the top two buttons of your blouse." She complies. "Okay, continue."
"You are tall and in good shape. Your blonde hair is striking and your eyes are so light. Unique."
I imagine she's really talking to me. Not like a zombie. "Anything else?" It's hard not to flirt even though I know there's no need.
"Yes, your confidence manifests in the way you carry yourself. It's becoming. Persuasive almost."
I'm staring at the skin uncovered by the buttons. It's smooth and flawless and it reminds me of my favorite memory. In the beginning, I visited that one more than any of the others.
She was in Flourish & Blotts carrying a stack of books. One slipped out of her hands to the floor and she bent to retrieve it. Her shirt was loose and I could see straight down into it. I could see past her white cotton bra, down to her belly button. It was over in a moment and afterwards I stared at her openly. She didn't notice me, or maybe she did and ignored me. When I wanked later, I came harder than ever before. Since then, I've used the memory so much it doesn't get me off anymore. It doesn't even get me hard.
"Tell me about your fiancé," I say. "Is he good in bed?"
"I don't know," she says. "We're waiting."
A part of me tenses. "For marriage?" I ask. I hadn't expected that.
"Yes."
"So you're a virgin?" I already know the answer but I need to hear her say it.
"Yes."
I'm hard now, but I control myself. "And Weasley? Is he a virgin too?"
"Yes."
I laugh then and tell her to laugh too. The man's twenty. I tell her to stop laughing and to stand up. It's time to begin. I didn't bring her here just to talk.
I'm standing right in front of her now and she's staring, unseeing, at my eyes. I finish unbuttoning her blouse and push it off her shoulders. Her bra is a front-clasp, an added bonus. I open that as well and push it off with the rest of her shirt. Her breasts are beautiful, full and soft. I cup them in my hands and kiss them both. She's standing there impassive. "Hermione," I say, "you like this. Act like it."
Her response is immediate. She threads her hands in my hair and throws her head back.