So, dear reader, or – dare I say it – readers?
What happened next?
We kissed, and fucked on the common room floor like rabbits.
The End.
…
….
…..
Oh, dear God, no. Hermione Jean Granger has standards, thank you very much! How would I look the house-elves in the eye when they next came to clean?
Here's what actually happened:
To my utter disgust, I shook like a leaf before he touched me. I had a feeling this would be one of the few memories I'd retain when I was decrepit and senile, I so wanted it to be good.
I think Malfoy - Draco - felt the same way. He had this aura of restrained energy around him. He held my face like it was the most precious, fragile thing he owned. Showing yet another side to him that I'd never seen. Or failed to look for.
Remember one of the final lines of The Princess Bride?
'Since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.'
Ever since I heard those lines, I've dreamt that someone would kiss me the way Westley kissed Buttercup. Which, I presumed, did not involve rubbery lips and slobbering tongues. No, I wasn't French-kissed by a confused St Bernard. I was referring to Ron.
But when Draco kissed me, every other kiss was left behind.
He kissed my top lip. Then he drew my bottom lip between his and gently tugged. He smiled when I felt along his mouth with mine.
His tongue followed the same path – top lip, lower lip. I joined him, and giggled when our tongues met at some point on our journeys. He smiled again, and pulled away slightly, looking me right in the eye.
To see if I was all right.
'Hermio – mph!'
I raised up on my tiptoes and kissed him hard. Opening my lips, my heart thumped when he did the same and we felt the heat of each other's mouths. Our tongues explored, kissing each other with increasing fire.
Tasting. Testing. Taking.
He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close until there was no space between us at all. My arms moved around his waist and my hands splayed across his bare back. I could feel his muscles move as he touched me.
He felt warm and hard beneath his skin. I wondered how my body felt to him. When a stiff wind could cajole an erection out of the average teenage boy, it didn't do to work on the assumption that I might be the sole source of Draco's current situation.
I shifted against him, wanting to climb into his skin. A muffled oath escaped, and he withdrew his mouth slowly from mine. Then he pulled me into a hug.
My head lay against his chest. I listened to his heart. Phew, it was going fast. On a ninety-year old it would have foreshadowed the old coot's impending demise. On Draco…
This was his reaction to me.
I did this to him.
With unspoken agreement, we kissed our way to the bedroom stairs. I sat on the second step from the bottom. He knelt on the floor, leaning over me. We shared a slow, sultry kiss.
I slowly pulled away with a come-hither smile, and shifted up a step. He grinned and followed. Our lips met.
It took an hour to reach the landing.
Outside his bedroom door.
Reality interceded like a very unpleasant ice cube meandering down my back (many of them courtesy of Draco, once upon a time).
Over the year, the path between the portrait hole and his bedroom had been worn shiny smooth with the feet of many girls. I'd hear them giggling and cooing over him when they were in the common room from the somewhat sanctuary of my bedroom. Then silence, as they snogged. Then the hurried footsteps up to his bedroom.
Fortunately, if he knew I was home, he had enough manners to silence his bedroom. Some of those bints were screamers.
How do I know?
Occasionally, Ron and I would enter the common room when Draco and Miss Whoever were already going hard at it. Honestly. Where do you look when some bird's moaning 'Oh my God, Draco, give it to me hard! Yeah, like that… Merlin, you're such a good fuck omigod omigod omigod I'm gonna come omigod DRACO!'
Would you believe this got Ron excited? We did it loudly, once, in my bedroom, at his insistence. Every gasp or groan he made seemed put-on and amplified, as if he was trying to prove to Draco and Whoever that he could make realistic animal noises, too.
When he hollered at the top of his voice that I was his 'dirty, skanking slut' as he prematurely splattered all over my stomach, I stood up, wiped myself clean, took him by the ear and threw him out of the dorm.
But I digress.
Draco noticed that I was finding my boots terribly fascinating. With one hand on the door next to my ear, he gently lifted my chin up with a finger… to find me nibbling my bottom lip.
'We don't have to do this now. I'm happy to wait until you feel it's right.'
Draco Malfoy. Total git to considerate lover from zero to one thousand.
I considered.
Damn it to hell to back, I think I've wanted him for Merlin knows how long. Even when I hated his glorious guts. Even (to my shame) when I was trying to be what Ron wanted me to be. I opened my mouth, but he beat me to it.
'We can just sleep. I'd love to just hold you. Wake up to you.'
I was on the edge of an abyss.
I reached for the door knob and turned it. Looked up at him. His face showed so clearly, but so briefly, his reaction –
And I fell.
Standing together in his room. Surrounded by green silk and silver. He pulled the pins from my hair, one by one, and my curls fell from their confines.
Dang, those hair pins are itchy.
I shook my hair wildly as Draco laughed. Eventually I flicked my hair back over my shoulders, self-consciously trying to pat it into submission. He put his hands on mine.
'Your hair is you, love,' he said, amused. 'It's beautiful when it's restrained. It's beautiful loose and wild – '
'Well, it certainly seems to have a life of its own,' I grumbled.
'Cut it and I'll spank you', he threatened.
I stuck my tongue out at him.
He caught it with his lips, and we smiled in each other's embrace.
His thumb brushed my bare shoulder, and the intimacy made me tremble. He placed his lips on my shoulder and gently bit, licking the spot with his tongue.
God, I hate soaking wet panties. Don't you?
He traced a path from my shoulder to my neck. Kiss. Bite Lick. Kiss. Bite. Lick. Kiss –
'Oh!'
He found my pulse.
Words, noises, tumbled from my mouth.
He gathered my jumper in his hands, and slowly drew it up over my body. I put a hand over his, stopping his progress.
That was a disappointed man I saw beneath my lashes.
I raised his hand, inspecting it. It was calloused from years of Quidditch play. A stubborn ink stain hatched across his index finger. When I pressed my thumb into the centre of his hand, his fingers contracted, like a sea anemone does when something yummy and stupid has wafted into its trap.
I ran my thumb along his. The one that earlier brushed a tear from my cheek.
I brought it to my lips, swirled around it with my tongue, and pulled it into my mouth. Running my teeth along it, following with my tongue. Sucking. Staring up at him.
I think his knees actually buckled. He swore, a word I've never heard of. All the more intense for its emphasis.
I moved my lips and tongue along his thumb, up and down. Up and down.
Up and down.
'Hermione Granger,' he whispered. His jaw was clenched tight. 'Do you want to make me come from sucking my Merlin-forsaken thumb?'
I released his thumb from my mouth with a 'pop'.
'Yes,' I said. 'But not tonight.'
He removed my jumper after that. Rather hurriedly, in my opinion. Discarded on the floor, he stepped back and just…. ogled.
A speechless Malfoy. The world may possibly be approaching its end.
Then I remembered who I was. Hermione Granger. No simpering ninny, am I. I divested myself of my boots. Then I faced him square on, and pulled my bra slowly away from my body.
He put his hand to his mouth and walked a circle around his room. Found himself back where he started.
And did another circuit.
The silence grew to uncomfortable proportions. I let my hair tumble over my shoulder as I self-consciously made to cover my breasts. His hand shot out, and gently grabbed mine.
'Never hide your beautiful body from me,' he whispered with intensity.
He kissed me. So hard that I couldn't breathe and stars started floating in front of me. He stopped, and as I took a massive restorative breath, he scooped me up and laid me on his bed.
Clothes were removed.
Temperatures had risen.
He'd divested me of my drenched panties, thank the Lord above.
I'm not proud of what happened next.
He pulled his jeans down his legs, and his erect cock finally saw the light.
Oh, my Helen Keller.
'Big' is a paltry term to describe what he kept in his pants. It was long. It was thick. It was –
I leapt off his bed and dived for the door.
He grabbed me before I could escape, running like a lunatic along the corridors of Hogwarts, shrieking that the Second Coming was about to visit upon us.
'Hey', he said, with real worry in his voice. 'What's wrong?'
'Well,' I began. 'I'm really sorry to have to tell you, but we appear to have a wee little compatibility issue.'
'Huh?'
I pointed a shaking finger at his Goliath. 'There's no way on God's green earth that it will fit. I have evidence.'
Draco looked at me with a mix of desire, frustration and suspicion. It's quite an odd look, actually.
'What evidence?'
'Well, my previous partner was not so, er… blessed… as you are in the genitalia department, and he couldn't get very far at all.'
I don't recommend making such embarrassing confessions to someone when you're completely starkers.
He looked down at his John Thomas, then back at me. 'Love. I'm not obscenely large. We'll take things slow. It'll be okay.' He inched closer to me and drew me into his arms.
I relaxed into his embrace.
He laid me back down on his cool, silver-green duvet and plied kiss after gentle kiss on my face.
Then he pulled the duvet back, and invited me into his bed.
I snuggled down as he climbed into bed from the other side.
He reached an arm out to me, and I moved into him, resting my head on his shoulder and laying an arm around his waist. Listening to his heart.
We talked, and kissed, until we fell asleep.
