The Name of the Game
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. The one and only owner is J.K. Rowling.
AN: English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any lexical or grammatical mistake I made while writing this. I'll correct them when I have time to reread everything. I promise.
The story is rated M because it contains sex and profanities.
I hope you like it! And thank you for reading!
Chapter Two: Goodness Gracious
Despite the fact that she had spent every second of the day trying to ignore her phone in case she had to read another word from Draco Malfoy, Hermione felt strangely pleased when she opened Instagram and found his message.
My father has awful thin lips. Thanks God I inherited mine from my mother.
Ready for your party? x
The reminder of Pansy Parkinson's party made her make a resigned face. She took her mug of afternoon tea and went to sit on her sofa.
I can't wait for it. Really.
Stop being unfunny. You're a party pooper ):
I'm serious! Can't wait to drink my usual two Old Fashioned!
I'm going to be the life of the party!
R u drunk? aha
Hermione laughed, amused. She mouthed not yet as she typed and sent the message to him.
Drink responsibly
Yes, daddy
Goldfinch…
?
Nothing…
I have to go. Big party tonight. Need to shower and stuff…
Stuff?
Stuff
And who's being unfunny now?
"Damn it!" Hermione's eyes got big when she realized she was pouting like a little girl. "Maybe he's not into this kind of things."
True, she had told Ginny that giving him the wrong idea wasn't exactly her plan, but flirting with him came too easy. Too natural. Too right. And he was also good-looking, funny to talk with, and witty.
What did she have to lose? Beside her precious time, obviously.
I'm a twenty-two years old boy… what do you think?
Don't know…
You're such a good girl
You wish
Not so good then
Have to go too. Big party tonight. Need to shower and stuff…
You're the worst parrot of the world
Maybe I'll think of you
"Ginny would be proud of me," she smirked as she rubbed her thighs together trying to find some relief. His enigmatic words and her relentless fantasy weren't exactly helping her.
When did we get so familiar? ;)
Don't know. But it's funny and easy to flirt with you. It's like… we've known each other forever, you know?
You're a prick, but an amusing one.
Honest. And liberating. A good reply.
Thanks. I've never been called an amusing prick.
A selfish and pig-headed one? Tons of time. But amusing? Nope. Never.
There's a first time for everything :*
Exactly. Need to go now… For real…
Will you think of me?
I did.
Draco sent the message an hour later, slumping back onto his bed, naked except for the towel that was wrapped loosely around his waist. He pressed the palms of his hands to his face and sighed.
Darn it! I'm fucked.
It was a truth universally acknowledged that Pansy Parkinson certainly knew how to throw a party. The histrionic lights, the perfect theme music, the guests and, of course, the drinks: it was all in her DNA. She had her own rétro style, Parisian shades in her hair and in her clothes, an out of control love for the roaring twenties and sparkling champagne, and a secret – well, not so secret, given the theme of the current party – passion for ABBA.
"I love it," Ron said, already happily inebriated, as he joined his friend on one of the several sofas in the giant living room. He sank into the cushions with a loud groan. "Best party ever!"
Harry looked around and nodded, taking a sip of his beer. The room was cluttered, noisily alive. People were dancing and screaming the lyrics of the song that was playing without a care. In the air lingered a very unusual carelessness, as if the world, behind Parkinson's walls, didn't exist.
"Very relaxing," he said, smiling at his friend.
"You're pissed," Ginny laughed, shaking her head at Harry's words. She pointed her finger to Harry and Ron and said: "Both of you."
"Totally smashed," Hermione nodded, standing up. Her head spun a little, her legs trembled lightly, but she was feeling good and… thirsty. "I'm going to get a glass of water. My throat is like sandpaper."
Ginny winked as she put her head on Harry's shoulder. "See you later."
How's your party going?
"Am I really that boring to talk to?" Pansy rolled her eyes, crossing her arms quite drily.
Draco put his phone in the front pocket of his jeans and raised an eyebrow, questioningly. "What? You're ok? I know that the breakup with Finne–"
Pansy raised her hand to shut him up. She closed her eyes and massaged the bridge of her cute upturned nose and her temples.
"I don't give a fig about that cheating dipstick son of a bitch!" she said, and then she took a large sip of her Margarita. A shiver ran through her spine and her emerald eyes seemed to grow bigger than usual. "I'm talking to you, idiot! And you're not even trying to pretend you're listening to my words."
"Easy there, Pans," Draco mumbled as he touched his chest, right where his heart was supposed to beat. "You're murdering my feelings."
"I don't care about your feelings since you obviously don't care about mine," Pansy replied sharply, and Draco knew she was playing a role. Pansy wasn't the kind of person who publicly expressed emotions: she was priceless, dark glass bottle in which dozens of feelings flapped their wings like monarch butterflies. She was beautiful, strong and unbreakable outside, but fragile and always ready to explode on the inside. "Which are non-existent, by the way."
Draco lift her lips in a mocking smile and took Pansy in his arms, ignoring her protests.
"He's a fucking excuse of a man, Pans," he said, kissing her forehead reassuringly. His phone buzzed, but he decided to ignore it. Pansy was more important than a message. "You deserve a person who will stick by your side even when you're acting like a bloody emotionless Ice Queen, someone who will understand how much love you put into everything you do and how much you care for the people you love, someone who will notice that, most of the time, your actions speak louder that your embarrassing confessions of love and friendship."
"I know," she muttered, after a couple of seconds of complete silence, trying to hide a sniff against the fabric of his blue jumper, but the little sounds that came from her mouth betrayed her state. She was breathing hard, something she usually did whenever she was controlling her emotions. Crying at her own party was forbidden. "I know it."
"That's my girl!" he laughed, lifting her face. Her eyes were a little watery and her lips a bit red from her gnawing, but, all things considered, she was still socially presentable.
Pansy rolled her eyes, but a ghost of a smile lifted her ruby lips.
"I don't know how you do it," she sighed, brushing his forehead and the fine strands of his pale hair with her fingers. She was looking at him with a brotherly tenderness in her eyes, the only visible evidence that proved that Pansy was capable of feeling something. "You're a walking talking plaster, always by my side to take care of my wounds."
"God, Pans," he chuckled, and a cute dimple appeared on his left cheek. "You're really the worst with words!"
"I'm the Nobel Price of our generation, Draco Malfoy," she replied, shrugging. Then she gave him a look and Draco instantly knew he was trapped. "However, I know you've been texting with someone, because it's written all over your fucking gorgeous face. And, since you're not somewhere doing someone, I presume this person is quite intriguing and worthy of your precious time. Am I right?"
"Yeah," Draco exhaled, with a nod. He put his head on the back of the sofa and looked at the ceiling, pondering what to say to his best friend. "She followed me on Instagram yesterday. I wrote to her, and she replied. We texted. And erm... we flirted. I think we flirted a lot."
"Fuck, Draco," Pansy burst out laughing, and some of her Margarita spilled on the sofa. "You're blushing! What else did you do? No, don't tell me. I know you too well! Damn! This is… Draco!"
"Are you done?" he asked, frowning like a child. Yes, what he did was not the type of thing a gentleman should normally do, but, even now, his mind and his damned penis were out of control.
As she put her almost empty glass on the table in front of the sofa they were seated, Pansy tried to compose herself. "Ok, I'm done. Do you know her?"
A shrug. "Yes and no. I have never met her, but she studies Medicine at Barts. And now that I know how her fac–"
He was suddenly interrupted by his phone. Multiple times.
"Maybe it's her," Pansy lifted her manicured eyebrow maliciously.
"Hate you, Pans."
Good Old-Fashioned and good music. It's… I'm having fun.
I forgot to ask you about your party! How's it going?
I don't know why, maybe it's the alcohol, but I can't stop
thinking about
you
Sorry, wobbly fingers!
And about what you could have thought before
"Wow," Pansy said, seriously amazed. She had previously put her chin on Draco's shoulder and currently she was reading their conversation with no shame. "I like her. She's hot. Wonderfully hot."
Draco shook his head and shot Pansy a curious glare, although still surprised by Granger's frankness. "You have never met her!"
"A woman who drinks whisky is hot," Pansy bit her lips, in thought. "No matter her looks." Then she stood and held her hand out, moving her fingers in an authoritative gesture. "Let me see a pic, maybe I've already seen her."
"I don't think so, but, well, here you go."
Pansy took his phone, showing him a winning smile, a smile that immediately faded when she looked at the selfie Hermione sent him the night before.
"She's here! At my party!" Pansy let out a deafening screech. "I know her. Well, not personally, but she's considerably famous among her friends. And Seamus," she said her ex's name venomously. "He's friend with her and her group so at the time I thought it was kind to invite them all, you know."
She's here. At Pansy's bloody party, he told himself as he tried to follow Pansy's speech.
A little dazed, he looked at his friend and said: "She's really here?"
"Of course, Draco," Pansy huffed with a roll of her eyes as she shook her head. "I think she's wearing a suit, sans the jacket. I remember this particular because I am super sure that the style screams Stella McCartney."
Draco made a face, furrowing his forehead. "And what makes you say that? Suits are all the same."
A threating gaze from Pansy shut him up. Again.
"You're a shame, Draco Malfoy."
He laughed as he typed a reply to Hermione's messages. "Thanks, Pans. Always so kind."
I'm having fun
"No, seriously," she said, pointing a finger at his amused face. "You're a shame. All that chlorine you drink when you swim… it's deteriorating your brain. Your mother will hear about your ignorance."
I thought about your lips, ninny. They're always in my head.
"Look! Look at your face!" he heard Pansy complaining. "Completely and eternally deteriorated, that brain."
A little bird told me that you're at Pansy Parkinson's party. The same party I'm attending.
"And why are you smiling like a cat who got the mouse?"
"I told her that maybe we are at the same fabulous party," he replied, a happy grimace on his face.
WHAT? SERIOUSLY?
Want to meet?
You only want to see my lips
What if I do?
Where r you?
Dining room. Second floor. You?
Living room. I think… third floor?
See you in five minutes outside the living room. Wait there :*
Ok
When he looked up from his phone he saw that Pansy was rubbing her face, hiding her pleased expression and her little laughs.
"Please, remember to practice safe sex," she scolded him motherly, but her fake façade lasted just a couple of seconds before she burst out laughing. "My little Draco, he's grown up so fast."
"I hate you, you know?" he clicked his tongue, and then he bowed to give her a peck on the cheek. "See you tomorrow, Pans."
I'm meeting Malfoy in five minutes.
Right now, I could fuck him like there's no tomorrow.
Ginny's reply came faster than an unexpected storm.
WHAT?!
Hermione you're the worst!
AHA
And to think you didn't want to give him the wrong impression…
I know, okay? I fucking know.
But… It's the hormones and the alcohol.
And the fact that I like talking to him via dm.
And the fact that he's attractive.
It's stupid, isn't it?
I know it is!
HERMIONE
CALM
DOWN
PLEASE
It's just a guy… You've done it before. A couple of times!
At least this time you know his name ;) You will save yourself the weirdness of not remembering his name tomorrow morning.
You're right. I'm overthinking, as usual.
I'm going to enjoy the moment.
I won't wait for you, then?
No…
I mean, I think not. I'll text you in case of a change of plans.
Have fun! And tell him to grab your tits :*
I HATE YOU!
Fuck, he's here.
RIDE HIM!
GINNY! STOP PLEASE!
When Draco arrived in the hallway that lead to the living room on the third floor of Pansy's house, he saw her. She was smiling, and her cheeks were a little flushed. She was typing something, but when she heard the sound of his footsteps approaching she lifted her head and timidly waved at him.
"Hello," he said, when he reached her outside the noisy living room.
Hermione put her phone in her purse and cleared her throat. "Hi."
There was a moment of awkward silence, a moment in which both of them looked around for an escape, but then their eyes found each other and they burst out laughing.
"This is awkward," Hermione said, moments later, wiping her tears with the back of her hands.
"Well," he bit his lower lip, trying to hold back a grin. "It's awkward because we know we did something bad."
"Ok," Hermione chuckled. "You're right. Completely."
He leaned forward and with his finger he touched the bridge of her little pinched nose. She raised her eyes, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. He was nearer, and she asked herself how it was possible since she hadn't seen him move.
"I'm always right," he said, his voice deep and soothing.
She lifted her chin, causing his finger to slip down until it reached her upper lip, and then she murmured: "So sure of yourself."
He pulled away, putting his hands in his pockets. With a nod, he pointed at the stairs. "Want to take a stroll?"
Hermione glanced over at him, her lips pursed in thought. He was towering over her, but, somehow, she felt protected rather than intimidated.
"Let me grab my jacket," she said, winking at him.
The late august air was warm and South Bank walk along the Thames was still filled with couples and young people, despite the late hour: the clock of the Clock Tower read 00.30 am.
"And where do you normally go?" she asked curiously when he mentioned surfing.
Draco shrugged. "Portugal, in spring and autumn. Or West Crete, in summer. I tried twice here in England but it's not exactly the same. I prefer Portugal, if I'm honest."
"Why?"
"Well, because surfing in Nazaré is absolutely the best. It's wild and a bit reckless, riding those waves," he said, smiling at the memories. "And when the salty air and the water hit your face, goldfinch," he sighed and Hermione held back a smile at her nickname. "Everything makes sense, you know what I mean?"
Not exactly, she thought.
"Sure," she said instead, not wanting to ruin his juvenile mood, which she found alarmingly cute.
"Swimming is fun, but surfing," he took her hand and started playing with her fingers, not for the first time that night. "Surfing is liberating. I am myself wh–"
To Draco's surprise, Hermione's answer to his words was a kiss, a mind-blowing kiss that immediately shut him up. Her fingers gripped his hair, in a way that he considered rather erotic, and when he moved his lips to welcome her tongue, she invaded his mouth giving him exactly what he didn't know and think he needed. He eagerly kissed her back, his hands lost somewhere in her hair and his mind and his mouth exactly where he wanted them to be.
It was when she let out a breathy moan that he remembered where they were, out among the people who certainly didn't have the desire to see them dry humping each other. Caressing her neck, he pulled her head back and then murmured, lips provocatively close to the shell of her ear: "The things I would like to do to you."
She eyed him for a minute before pecking him on the lips.
"Come home with me, will you?" she asked, fighting a smirk.
"Take me wherever you fucking want," he closed his eyes, and then bowed to kiss her again.
Hermione squirmed out of his embrace, laughing at him when he pursed his lips in a cute pout, and rolled out of her bed to close her bedroom door. Once the door was closed, she spun on her toes and put her index on her lips as she made her way back through the mess of trousers, jumper, socks and jacket that was littered on the floor.
"Really?" Draco rose an eyebrow, eyes never leaving her as she jumped on the bed. "Didn't you say your housemate was out?"
With a roll of her eyes, she climbed in his lap. "Yes, but the walls are thin and we live in a terrace house."
"And," he wondered, pulling her blouse up and brushing her smooth skin with his fingertips in lazy circles. "This means I won't hear you? What a pity."
"That's what you think," she teased grinding against him, and he felt his dick twitch.
"Fuck, you're drenched," he breathed when he felt the wetness of her sex soaking his boxer shorts and the sensitive skin of his penis. He grabbed her arse, surprising her, and held her closer.
"What do you want?" she panted against his lips, rubbing her thumb against his lower one. "Because I'm already closer than I have even been and I'm seconds from coming in my fucking useless thong."
That confession stole him a laugh and gave him the courage to finally touch her. Really touch her. His fingers gently stroked her covered clit and then he lifted her up until her sex was centimetres away from his mouth.
She started to struggle, a little embarrassed, but when the warmth of his tongue set her burning clit on fire she let out a loud, heart-felt moan and quivered as her orgasm took her breathe away.
"Goodness gracious," she whimpered a minute later, closing her eyes and letting her head fall backwards. Her trembling hands yanked a strand of Draco's sweaty blond hair and she heard, or better, she felt him laughing out loud against her sex. "Malfoy, stop it now or I'll beat you."
He hummed against her clit and playfully shoved her on her back. Without wasting their precious time, he took off his underwear and her drenched thong, and quickly kissed her.
"Wait a sec," he said, almost painfully. He got up and went searching for something in his wallet. "My two beloved mothers always say that I should practice safe sex."
Hermione removed her white blouse and gave him a quizzical look. "Are you feeling well? Two mothers?"
He smirked as he opened the condom. "Long story. I've got better things to do now."
"What a coincidence!" she laughed. "So do I."
"What are you doing?" he asked when he noticed that she was on her knees, with her arms crossed and an impatient expression on her flushed face.
"Hurry up, Malfoy," she exhaled, licking her lips. "I want to be on top."
"Bossy little thing," he grumbled once he was under her, his hands on her hips and his dark grey eyes fixed on her pretty face. She bowed to sensually lick his swollen upper lip and, with a little help from her hand, she angled the tip of his dick against her entrance and finally – finally – he slid inside of her. Both opened their mouth in a silent scream, fulfilment painted on every line of their faces and in their dilated pupils. She shifted in his lap and her clit grazed his pubic bone. Draco lifted his head and took a nipple in his mouth and started to play with it with his warm tongue, imitating the movements of their sexes. She breathed a stream of yes, yes, yes that stroked both of their egos.
"God," she gasped, searching for his grey eyes. "Yes."
"Are you close?" he asked breathlessly. The feeling of her warm quim was making him crazy, to the point that he was starting to see black spots before even coming. He had always loved the warmth of a female but, damn, Granger certainly knew how to fuck his head, other that his throbbing dick. The feeling of her, her perfume – fresh like a Mediterranean summer breeze, her trembling pink lips, her dark eyes, the way she was soundly moaning her pleasure. Everything was unique.
"Fuck," he bit his lip. "I'm close."
"Me too," she nodded before kissing him with enthusiasm. Against his mouth she pleaded him to grab her tits.
Yes, yes, yes, she moaned as she rode him roughly.
God, yes, yes, she whined as he drove into her, hard and fast and savagely out of control.
He came, letting out a loud grunt, seconds before her, and let himself fall on the mattress. Hermione followed him and buried her face in the crook of his sweaty neck, and sighed a satisfied sigh when she felt his fingers slowly caressing her spine.
After ten minutes of comfortable silence, he started to laugh against her cheek.
"I think you woke up the entire neighbourhood with those piercing cries of pleasure, my little goldfinch," he said, biting her ear lobe.
Her only answer was a small bite on his shoulder.
High-pitched screams of evident pleasure woke them up the next morning.
"What the f-fuck?" Draco grumbled against her back, tightening his grip around her waist.
Hermione opened her eyes slowly, still sleepy and groggy. "W-what?"
"Fuck yeah, Harry! Fuck me! Fuh- uhn ah, ah, ah! Oh, fuck yes!"
Draco inhaled, now completely awake. He kissed the nape of her neck first and then he put his forehead against her shoulder blades, shaking his head.
"Does she know you're home?" he asked, mockingly.
She opened her mouth to reply, but another stream of profanities, moans and groans hushed her.
"Usually, she is quieter," she said, rolling on her side to face him. "Don't mind them." She let her gaze flick over him, unconsciously impressing all his peculiarities: from the moles on his left cheek, the one right above his upper lip, the particular shape of his eyes that reminded her of an oriental cat, or the cute little dimple that appeared on his cheek when he smirked or smiled. From the broadness of his shoulders to the firmness of his muscles and abs.
"Then tell me something, because they're quite disturbing," he said to her, fighting an amused grin. "Tell me why The Goldfinch is your favourite book."
Closing the distance between them, Hermione gave him a laughing kiss and then she put her head on his chest.
"I don't know how you know it, since we've known each other for only a couple of days, but okay," she sighed, secretly happy he had asked her to talk about that book. "Brace yourself, then."
an: I want to thank all you lovely people for giving me a chance in the form of a follow, a favourite or a review (thanks to guest who reviewed last chapter, btw! It was a short "nice" but I appreciated it a lot!)
I know it's a simple and maybe stupid story, and sincerely it's not written in my usual style, but writing it puts a smile on my face. Hope you're enjoying it half as much as I do.
Opinions are always appreciated, if you want to leave a review.
Have a nice day/night wherever you are!
franmunier
