Let the fireworks continue…

Also, this chapter contains a mild lemon towards the end. If this isn't your thing then just don't read the last section. (However I'd probably advise you skip most of the rest of this story, as it'll be a big vat of bubbly juicy lemonade that just keeps getting fizzier).

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.


CHAPTER FOUR

"Well Draco, when you requested the connection of two Floo networks, never in my wildest dreams did I expect that name to come up. I don't think either of you were very good at hiding your animosity towards each other. May I enquire the purposes of your meeting?"

It was breakfast time and Draco was sat next to the Headmistress at the staff table in the Great Hall. She was eating a bowl of porridge while Draco nursed a steaming hot cup of coffee in his palms, the aroma punctuating his sleepy haze.
The Great Hall seemed noisier than normal; he looked down at the students sat in front of him, chatting away during their morning banquet, catching up on gossip and dreading nothing except perhaps a gruelling essay. Maybe the noise was just irritating him because he knew he had a long day ahead. A double session with the third years followed by a mock exam with the sixth years, then a handful of detentions to squeeze in, all before his unwelcome visitor was due to arrive. Many owls and numerous insults later, the pair had finally decided to meet at Hogwarts, as neither Draco nor Lysandra could spare a whole afternoon for a tour of the Ministry.

"Copplestone, Headmistress, one of my seventh years. She wanted more information about the department Granger-Weasley works for after the speeches last week. In between some rather loquacious owls, we were able to arrange a day convenient for her to come by Hogwarts to speak to Copplestone. She is bringing lots of resources so the pair can discuss their interests at length. I however, am only there to facilitate the meeting, being Copplestone's Professor. I have no other interest in being there and, quite frankly, would find being at a Celestina Warbeck concert more stimulating than this little engagement."

McGonagall pushed her empty bowl away from her and raised her cup as a floating teapot poured some fragrant infusion into it.

"You know Draco, you and Hermione are more alike than you know, or at least are willing to comprehend. You're both exceedingly bright and if you actually sat down and had an amicable conversation with each other, you might find some common ground."

Draco scoffed "I can hardly envisage the pair of us sitting down to discuss the rights of house elves or the latest developments in the potions field over a pot of tea without something turning sour, and I don't mean the milk."

McGonagall looked sideways at her young colleague and hummed in disapproval. "The floo will be open at 7pm Draco. I appreciate what you are doing for Miss Copplestone, but do try and be pleasant to Hermione. Show her this new side to you. You're a very popular member of staff here and I respect you greatly. Hermione has always held the majority of Hogwarts Professors in high esteem, especially those who show such thoughtfulness to their students. I see no reason why you two cannot bury the wand as it were and move on from the past."

Draco didn't feel he had the patience to quarrel back with McGonagall about his views on Granger. (He had also decided that to him she would always be Granger. For starters, adding the 'Weasley' element was time consuming. Plus, it annoyed her greatly so hence he would continue). The woman infuriated him and the idea of spending any time with her was too much time in his eyes. However, he knew McGonagall wouldn't hear a bad word about one of her favourite ex pupils. Instead, he drained his coffee and rose from his chair. "I appreciate your cooperation in this matter, Headmistress, thank you." McGonagall nodded as he left the staff table and headed down the few steps towards the Slytherin table. He sought out Copplestone who was sat amongst a group of her friends and informed her of their evening meeting. Her friends looked coy as they watched the young professor walk away towards the doors of the Great Hall.

"God's Lyss, what I'd do to be able to spend an evening in the dungeons with Professor Malfoy." One of the girls swooned, admiring the young Professor as he walked away. "And praise Merlin for tailored robes. Do you think we could quiz McGonagall on how to transfigure ourselves into an item of clothing, say a crisp white shirt, and just so happen to turn up in his wardrobe?"

"Unfortunately, I think she might cotton on…" giggled Lysandra, turning her attention back to her breakfast.


"You're two minutes early."

Draco had his back towards the fire and heard the familiar rush that signalled that someone had arrived in his fireplace. He continued to rummage in the walnut cabinet in the corner of his living area that housed different liquors and spirits, pulled out the stopper of his best Dragon Barrel Brandy and poured himself a generous measure. Inhaling its sweet and intense aroma, he took a sip; enjoying the burn it gave him as it trickled down his throat. Eventually he turned to greet the visitor is his private quarters and was greeted with a tottering pile of old books and ledgers that had seemingly grown a set of legs. Long, shapely legs that disappeared into a pair of red high heels. Draco gulped, shook his head and took another sip of his drink.

"Are you going to help me here Malfoy or just watch me struggle?" Hermione's voice was muffled as she spoke from somewhere behind the pile of papers.

"I'll be honest, I'm quite enjoying watching you struggle." He retorted, but headed over to the witch nevertheless, "but seeing as you asked so nicely…" He reached out and removed a singular book from her pile, revealing a messy top-knot and a pair of hazel eyes that were now scowling in his direction.

"You're such an arse," she muttered as she passed him, placing the stack down on Draco's desk.

"I'm not the only one…" Draco had once again found himself admiring the shapely arse that Granger had captured in yet another tight grey pencil skirt, slightly shorter than last time, he noticed.
It finished just above her knees but had a slight slit down the back, and when Hermione bent over to deposit her tomes on the desk he got a glimpse of a creamy thigh. He felt that familiar buzz of electricity in his stomach and the tugging in his groin. What in Merlin's name was he doing eyeing up Granger? He'd definitely been away from Astoria for too long if he was taking an interest in his current company.

Hermione straightened up and turned to face him, reaching out her hand to retrieve the book.

"Well this looks like a fascinating read" Draco mocked, holding the book out of her reach as he looked over the title 'House elves and their place throughout history: from assistant to associate'.

"Some of us believe that other magical creatures have an equal footing in society Malfoy. Not all of us are so inbred that we merely judge people based on their blood status as opposed to their qualities that make them an amiable and compassionate individual." She snatched the book out of his hand and turned her back on him, sorting her documents into smaller more manageable piles.

"And not all of us are such insufferable, pompous know-it-all's who think they can judge someone based on beliefs they held as a child." Draco took another sip from his crystal glass, raising a cool eyebrow towards her.

"I'll believe it when I see it." She rested against his desk, holding herself up by her arms, fingers tracing the underside of the cool wood.

"Don't get too comfortable Granger, we aren't staying in here, I don't want your Muggle-born germs infecting my private quarters." He meant the insult as a joke, it held no real spite or vindictiveness like it might have done when he was a teenager. However, Hermione obviously didn't catch the quip, as she snorted in exasperation, her eyes downcast.

"And there he is again, it really does seem some things never change, do they? I honestly thought you might have matured a bit since Hogwarts, but being around me again has obviously brought out the best in you."

"Believe me, you haven't seen the best of me." Draco stepped intimidatingly closer to her, eyes never leaving hers.

Defiantly, Hermione rose to face him, just like she had in the pub on Friday night.

"I'm not one of your simpering little schoolgirl devotees, Professor Malfoy. You neither impress me nor intimidate me. I'm not afraid to raise my hand to you again, or my wand for that matter." She snatched the tumbler from his hand and downed the remains of the contents, slamming the glass down on his workspace behind her.

Draco's eyes scanned the clearly, although she'd deny it, flustered witch in his personal space, and pushed his hands into his robe pockets. He observed her pulse throbbing in her long pale neck, the fire that shot through her eyes and the tendrils of hair that had fallen down from her bun, framing her face. He inhaled and captured the aroma of parchment and rose petals. It excited his senses all the more.

He licked his bottom lip and witnessed her eyes momentarily leave his to glance at his sudden movement, before moving rapidly back to his eyes.

"Is that a threat, Granger?"

Hermione closed the gap between them, resting her hands on his shoulders as she leant close to his ear. His hand fidgeted with the inside of his pocket; not trusting himself to lay a hand on her. He couldn't trust himself to push her away when the tingle in his abdomen was trying to convince him to do all he could to close the gap between them both. He was acutely aware of her breasts pushing into his chest; he could feel her inhale and exhale and shivered internally as her breath ghosted his ear; "You bet."

There was a sudden knock at his distant classroom door and the pair stepped away from each other like they'd been jinxed. Draco coughed and pulled the front of his robes down to straighten them, walking towards his chamber doors and into his classroom.

"You'll be in here Granger. I have marking to do and I'd rather not have you skulking around my private space." He was back in Professor mode, barking orders with a tone of authority.

Draco cursed himself internally as the image of Hermione prowling around his actual 'private space' made his cock twitch. Stupid little witch. Why did Astoria have to be away for another two weeks? He needed to let out his frustrations and Astoria had a certain way of making him forget his grievances.

Yanking open the door to his classroom, Draco stepped aside and let the young girl cross the threshold. "Nice of you to finally join us Copplestone, take a seat in here. Your guest of honour is just sampling my drink's cabinet; she'll be out once she's adequately drunk enough to find sitting in my presence bearable."

Draco removed his robes and loosened the top button of his ivory shirt as he sat down. Copplestone stood awkwardly by the entranceway as Hermione quickly appeared in the opposite doorway, besides Draco's desk.

"Ignore Professor Malfoy, Miss Copplestone. He's just vexed that his Father won't be sending him his pocket money this month, please, take a seat at one of the desks, I'll just collect all the information I think you'll find interesting."

Draco scoffed as he pulled his first scroll of parchment towards him and began marking it, distinctly aware of the smirk displayed on the face of his alumni as she reappeared into the room and started her discussions with the young girl.


The warm water cascaded over his shoulders, dripping off the ends of his blonde hair as he hung his head low. He'd hoped the pounding of the water would ease the stress he felt in his body.

She still had the knack of aggravating him like no one else could.

She was like one of that oaf Hagrid's Blast Ended Skrewts. With a simple glare from her eyes or a well-rounded sentence from her plump pink lips, she could burn, sting and bite him all in one go.

"Stop this, Draco for Merlin's sake. You have Astoria, and in a few weeks she'll be back in your bed and you can make up for lost time."

His right hand travelled low, briefly tracing over his abdominal muscles that were soapy with shampoo suds. He grasped his already hardening cock and ran his fingers slowly along the shaft, palming the head before rubbing back along the course he had initially taken.

He repeated this motion till he was fully erect, building up the speed expertly while his mind wandered to thoughts of Astoria; her perfect shapely tits, her slim stomach that lead to the haven between her thighs.

Draco shuddered at the pleasure building in his groin, stifling a moan of desire as he continued to twist the head of his dick in his palm every time he reached the head. He replayed their last evening together as he pumped his hand; the way her ruby red lips swallowed his cock into her warm, wet mouth, her hand cupping and teasing his balls. He gritted his teeth and increased the pace of his hand movements, feeling his balls tighten at the anticipation of their release.

He recalled how she drank every last drop of him when she had drawn his orgasm from him, her eyes shining up to meet his. However, in his orgasm-intoxicated mind, it wasn't the blue eyes of his fiancé who looked up at him, instead they were the brown eyes of…

"Uhhhh…Granger!"

He moaned her name as he came, shooting his release all over his hand and the shower floor. The orgasm rippled through him, finally releasing some of the tension that had built up since he'd first laid eyes on the witch again.

He panted, placing his hand on the shower wall to steady himself, allowing the now cooling water to cleanse him.

It was at exactly that point, that Draco Lucius Malfoy realised he was well and truly fucked.


Oh Draco, what a tangled web you weave!

Things are only going to get more interesting for our favourite Slytherin and his dirty little secret...