Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only play. I am not making any money off the writing of this fanfic.
Chapter 1
Temptation
Draco Malfoy stared at Granger's cousin. He couldn't quite believe he got dragged into this affair, yet along with a muggle girl. The girl's name was the only thing he recalled so far; not that he didn't try to forget it.
Ophelia.
Ophelia Granger.
And a pretty little thing she was, with her long glossy whisky colored hair, dark blue eyes, not to mention a delicious delicate body.
He let out a heavy sigh and frowned. The girl invaded his thought more often for the past two days than he had ever imagined himself caring for a muggle. And he didn't particularly like it. Their business trip was organized by the minister, a delicate international affair they were supposed to smooth. Spanish ministry was not overly receptive towards Britain for the past ten years. And although Voldemort was no longer posing a threat, their old relationship with overseas magic communities grew scarce. The burnt bridges had to be rebuilt, old alliances restored. And who but the pureblood, the muggleborn and a muggle could be a better proof of the restored political ideology of Britain.
Hermione Weasley was obviously most displeased with the Minister's choice of their companion. She stood on guard over the girl, as a mother hen over her chick. She looks more like Mrs. Weasley with every passing year, Draco thought with disdain.
His attention shifted to the girl. They were now in the muggle hotel, waiting for Granger to arrange their rooms. The girl seemed totally comfortable with the fashion journal on her lap, although Draco suspected that she didn't read a line. Her attention was constantly wavering in his direction, which Draco found extremely disconcerting. He had no trouble pursuing half-blood witches, but he had never lowered to a mudblood or worse a muggle chit in his bed. Not to mention the one from a Granger family. A mere thought of her was supposed to extinguish the flames in his loins, but instead he had a constant hard-on during the whole bloody flight from London to Madrid.
The girl was sleepy, he noticed. Her head lolled to the side, as her whole body jerked into awareness. She blushed, noticing him watching her.
"Takes forever for Granger to arrange the rooms," he said, stretching his legs.
"Actually…" Ophelia bit her plump lip. He found that he liked her lips. "She is Weasley."
Draco smirked.
"Which suits her more," he retorted, eyeing her tight turquoise cardigan and imagining her without it.
"Granger mentioned that you are studying in France."
That took Ophelia by surprise. He could tell that she didn't expect her protective cousin to conduct any important conversation about her with him. And Granger didn't. Kingsley supplied him with all the necessary details, shortly before their trip, along with the warning not to screw up their negotiations and to treat the Granger kid with respect.
Only he forgot to mention that Ophelia looked nothing close to a child.
"We had a chat."
"Oh…" she looked uncomfortable. "I am a boarder in a French school for young la…" she caught herself and Draco raised an eyebrow.
Swallowing hard she gave him a little smile.
"Hermione said you don't get along,"
"Did she?"
The girl nodded.
"She said you were school nemeses."
"I suppose she has her point."
"She told me to stay away from you."
"And why do you think I'm on the opposite couch and not between those silky thighs of yours?" he teased snidely and inwardly shuddered. He wanted to be between those thighs. Wanted to know how sweet she was. Badly.
The girl's pretty blues rounded in astonishment.
"Here she comes," Draco said and stood up.
Granger rushed towards them, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"The key to your suit, Malfoy." She tossed the card key.
"As I requested?" he inquired scrutinizing the plastic card.
Granger-Weasley rolled her eyes.
"Yes, VIP." She beckoned the girl to follow her. "Let's go, Ophelia."
"Do we get VIP as well?"
"I am afraid not. We are on short budget."
"Oh," the girl's disappointment was obvious. "Why don't we use my credit ca…"
"Let's go, Ophelia," and Granger-Weasley actually dragged the struggling girl towards the elevators.
"See you in the morning Malfoy. Eight sharp!"
Malfoy's piercing eyes followed them until they disappeared behind the doors, the slip of Ophelia's tongue burning in his mind.
Credit Card?
He knew that it was a bank card muggles used to purchase expensive things. He also was aware that Granger didn't have one. Which made the Ophelia chick even more appealing to his curiosity.
He found his suit without trouble and enjoyed a glass of mediocre wine on the 24th floor, with the view of Madrid in lights. His thoughts traveled toward the girl and her short shapely legs. She wasn't a tall thing, but bright energy was radiating from her every move, and her smile was day-lightning.
Draco downed his wine and wished for firewhisky. The chick refused to leave his perturbed conscious. He should have visited his lover, before the damned trip. A tall curvy half-blood Ravenclaw, with the riding skills matching a professional equestrienne.
Ophelia.
Her sweet little body enchanted him, and his rock hard reaction to her was straining his tailored trousers at the moment. The king size bed was teasing his senses, producing a myriad of naughty fantasies.
Ophelia on her knees… On her tummy with the rounded bottom up… Her sweet tongue circling over his…
There was no sleep for Draco Malfoy that night. And the next morning his mood was matching a stormy cloud.
"What's got into your ass, Malfoy?"
"Shut up, Granger!"
"Stay away from my cousin."
"Like I would ever look at her."
"I am warning you Malfoy. Just give me a reason to hex you!"
"So you do want me to give you a reason, eh?"
"Malfoy…"
"See you at the ministry," he smirked and apparated away, leaving the fuming witch to seek the entrance to the Spanish Ministry of Magic on her own. He had had enough of her annoying face for one morning.