Chapter Nine: Stoned Test-Newts and Muggle Sex Ed
"How did you get up here?" Hermione asked, still high and staring at the purple smoke rising onto the ceiling. "One time, Harry and Ron tried to come up into the girls' dormitories and they got, like... shot right away." Draco crushed out the last of the joint and smiled.
"It can't toss you out if you're invited."
"Like vampires."
"Yeah... a bit like vampires, I guess."
"Boys are like vampires."
"Yup." Now, for seemingly no reason at all to Draco, she started laughing. The sound of her giggles echoed like a waterfall over the room, and the amount of silver and gold glitter that seemed to burst from everything was almost overwhelming to him. He reached over to her, and realized that despite how light and high he felt, his limbs seemed almost uncontrollable. His hands were like big peices of bread strapped to his wrists, and they felt just as they did when he occasionally fell asleep on them in History. He grabbed her face and kissed her uncoordinatedly. This had to be the one thing he didn't like about doing things like that while high. He could not be suave and smooth. It was all just like his first time - bumbling, awkward and unsexy. She kissed him back, and soon the two were tossing and turning in the bed, albeit gracelessly, as Draco had his way with her and she had her way with him and the exchanges went back and forth between the room as the room slowly lit up with the mirage of sparkles. Glitter dripped from the ceiling.
"Draco..." she said breathlessly as she straddled him and leaned over, her lips on his forehead.
"Yeah?"
"I can feel my blood rushing in my veins. It is brilliant."
"You're brilliant," he said. Three and a half minutes later, he came.
Hermione was in the shower, freaking out now. As with all hours - even days of impulsive behaviour, her mistakes were now seeming to catch up with her. She was hot, and shaking. She couldn't get the pictures of her with Draco out of her head. She was nauseous, and disgusted with herself. She'd given it up to HIM?! She would be expelled for certain now - she'd ruined her life! After a few rounds of pacing about the toilet, and taking repeated showers to try and cleanse herself of the filth, she ultimately got into her pajamas, being that it was almost nine now, and she exited the bathroom to find Draco getting dressed himself.
"Are you okay?" He asked, and she recoiled, feeling even more exposed. I must have really look like shite, she thought.
"I am finding it quite hard to fathom the horrible things I have done in the past 24 hours. I am... disgusted with myself, Malfoy." She spat out. He stared hard at her. After a long silence, he spoke.
"Welcome to my world. I feel like that all the time. Story of my life."
"You get as suicidal as I am feeling like now?"
"Oh, come now, Granger, you and I both know that I'm much too selfish to do that."
"JUST BECAUSE YOUR SELFISH DOES NOT MEAN YOU CAN GO AROUND, MAKING PEOPLE SCREW YOU OUT OF PITY AND TELLING THEM ITS NORMAL TO FEEL LIKE SHITE!!! JUST BECAUSE YOUR LIFE IS ROYALLY FUCKED UP DOES NOT MEAN MINE HAS TO BE! IT WAS NOT BEFORE YOU!" She said, feeling as if she'd just let loose a ball of fire from her belly. She was even more surprised when he didn't unleash the likewise upon her, but just stared at her.
"You think I haven't heard those sentences before? Aside from me being pity-fucked, which doesn't hurt me because sex is sex, I've heard those words from nearly every girl I've been with. Of course I'm selfish, you stupid little girl. I have to be. If I wasn't, then I would just be a sniveling little baby upset because my daddy hits me and my mom's a harlot and wah-wah-wah. Forget that, okay?"
"I am sorry for calling you selfish."
"No, you're not, Hermione. That's total bollocks and you know that. You're disgusted with yourself. Typical. But now you actually did something that you normally wouldn't. You broke your mold. I'm stuck in mine."
"What do you mean?"
"When I was fifteen, I got really messed up with some wolfsbane and ended up shagging Crabbe's squib sister in his room. She was repulsive, Hermione. I didn't even like her, but I still did it."
"Why?"
"Because it was what Draco Malfoy would do. I heard that she ended up with gonorrhea or some Muggle sickness. And I don't care."
"Did you use a condom?"
"A what?"
"A - oh yeah, I keep forgetting you don't exist in the Muggle world at all. Well," she almost smiled now. It was as if she was explaining the world to a child. She was looking at him now, so corrupt and ravaged by the world. And yet he still managed to not know what a condom was. Typical Draco - big man, small brain. "it's like this balloon that goes on your... thing so when you come, it stays in the balloon and doesn't go into the girl." He stared at her for a bit, his eyes furrowed like an toddler figuring out how to fit a square peg into a circle.
"That's bloody disgusting."
"It keeps her from getting pregnant."
"That's like shitting in your own bathwater."
"No, it's not."
"Is too."
"Is not."
"Yes it is, Granger!" He barked, and then started laughing. "So what other weird shite do Muggles do?"
"I'm gonna go to sleep, Malfoy. Care to join me? Actual sleeping?" She said, raising her eyebrows. He thought about it for a moment. There would be no shagging - it would be INTIMATE.
"Actually, I think I'm going to make an appearance at the Slytherin tower. Maybe brush my teeth - change clothes you know." She gazed at him, and nodded.
"See you later, maybe."
"Maybe, mudblood," he said and smirked, watching her climb into the bed before he left, shuffling quickly to his room, having to be inside soon.
It was quite odd to have the entire Slytherin common room staring you down, even when it's just a mere ten or twelve people. But when Draco had entered the room, the mood had obviously switched quite noticably. You could have heard a wand drop. Goyle, whose family was busy disemboweling missionaries in Africa, turned to face his long-lost mate, his face turned a ghost-white. I've only been gone for ten days, Draco thought, then he remembered his disheveled black eyes and lack of having eaten. He'd not eaten even with Hermione.
"Where have you been? You look like you've walked out of a grave," he piped up, and Draco shrugged.
"That's right, Goyle, I've been dead."
"But - how are you here? If you're a ghost, why don't I see through you?"
"Goyle, you tubby bastard.... bloody dumbass. I've been on an impromptu trip with my... uncle," he said, careful not to mention his father's escape. "His BOSS wanted some work done," he said, attempting to hint at Lord Voldemort, but Goyle just sat blankly, obviously thinking about stickers or pants or Amazing Dancing Gummi Bears. Draco, sighed, and scratched his head which still ached somewhat. He muttered a Pain-Killing spell, and marched up to his room. He slammed the door, and stood, the world around him quite confusing. It had been nothing but pity sex, but now he was a mudblood and... were things different? He felt different. There was no longer a REASON to hate Hermione. But he still had to. Father's orders - keep everything as it were. Your mother ran off with your brothers and filthy muggle mate in the middle of the night and she left everything here.
"Well, so you've shagged Granger. Perfect," he heard his father's voice croak, and from upon the bed, he saw not only his father, but a wretched-looking skinny old man. Lord Voldemort was at Hogwarts, standing in his room.
"How did you get up here?" Hermione asked, still high and staring at the purple smoke rising onto the ceiling. "One time, Harry and Ron tried to come up into the girls' dormitories and they got, like... shot right away." Draco crushed out the last of the joint and smiled.
"It can't toss you out if you're invited."
"Like vampires."
"Yeah... a bit like vampires, I guess."
"Boys are like vampires."
"Yup." Now, for seemingly no reason at all to Draco, she started laughing. The sound of her giggles echoed like a waterfall over the room, and the amount of silver and gold glitter that seemed to burst from everything was almost overwhelming to him. He reached over to her, and realized that despite how light and high he felt, his limbs seemed almost uncontrollable. His hands were like big peices of bread strapped to his wrists, and they felt just as they did when he occasionally fell asleep on them in History. He grabbed her face and kissed her uncoordinatedly. This had to be the one thing he didn't like about doing things like that while high. He could not be suave and smooth. It was all just like his first time - bumbling, awkward and unsexy. She kissed him back, and soon the two were tossing and turning in the bed, albeit gracelessly, as Draco had his way with her and she had her way with him and the exchanges went back and forth between the room as the room slowly lit up with the mirage of sparkles. Glitter dripped from the ceiling.
"Draco..." she said breathlessly as she straddled him and leaned over, her lips on his forehead.
"Yeah?"
"I can feel my blood rushing in my veins. It is brilliant."
"You're brilliant," he said. Three and a half minutes later, he came.
Hermione was in the shower, freaking out now. As with all hours - even days of impulsive behaviour, her mistakes were now seeming to catch up with her. She was hot, and shaking. She couldn't get the pictures of her with Draco out of her head. She was nauseous, and disgusted with herself. She'd given it up to HIM?! She would be expelled for certain now - she'd ruined her life! After a few rounds of pacing about the toilet, and taking repeated showers to try and cleanse herself of the filth, she ultimately got into her pajamas, being that it was almost nine now, and she exited the bathroom to find Draco getting dressed himself.
"Are you okay?" He asked, and she recoiled, feeling even more exposed. I must have really look like shite, she thought.
"I am finding it quite hard to fathom the horrible things I have done in the past 24 hours. I am... disgusted with myself, Malfoy." She spat out. He stared hard at her. After a long silence, he spoke.
"Welcome to my world. I feel like that all the time. Story of my life."
"You get as suicidal as I am feeling like now?"
"Oh, come now, Granger, you and I both know that I'm much too selfish to do that."
"JUST BECAUSE YOUR SELFISH DOES NOT MEAN YOU CAN GO AROUND, MAKING PEOPLE SCREW YOU OUT OF PITY AND TELLING THEM ITS NORMAL TO FEEL LIKE SHITE!!! JUST BECAUSE YOUR LIFE IS ROYALLY FUCKED UP DOES NOT MEAN MINE HAS TO BE! IT WAS NOT BEFORE YOU!" She said, feeling as if she'd just let loose a ball of fire from her belly. She was even more surprised when he didn't unleash the likewise upon her, but just stared at her.
"You think I haven't heard those sentences before? Aside from me being pity-fucked, which doesn't hurt me because sex is sex, I've heard those words from nearly every girl I've been with. Of course I'm selfish, you stupid little girl. I have to be. If I wasn't, then I would just be a sniveling little baby upset because my daddy hits me and my mom's a harlot and wah-wah-wah. Forget that, okay?"
"I am sorry for calling you selfish."
"No, you're not, Hermione. That's total bollocks and you know that. You're disgusted with yourself. Typical. But now you actually did something that you normally wouldn't. You broke your mold. I'm stuck in mine."
"What do you mean?"
"When I was fifteen, I got really messed up with some wolfsbane and ended up shagging Crabbe's squib sister in his room. She was repulsive, Hermione. I didn't even like her, but I still did it."
"Why?"
"Because it was what Draco Malfoy would do. I heard that she ended up with gonorrhea or some Muggle sickness. And I don't care."
"Did you use a condom?"
"A what?"
"A - oh yeah, I keep forgetting you don't exist in the Muggle world at all. Well," she almost smiled now. It was as if she was explaining the world to a child. She was looking at him now, so corrupt and ravaged by the world. And yet he still managed to not know what a condom was. Typical Draco - big man, small brain. "it's like this balloon that goes on your... thing so when you come, it stays in the balloon and doesn't go into the girl." He stared at her for a bit, his eyes furrowed like an toddler figuring out how to fit a square peg into a circle.
"That's bloody disgusting."
"It keeps her from getting pregnant."
"That's like shitting in your own bathwater."
"No, it's not."
"Is too."
"Is not."
"Yes it is, Granger!" He barked, and then started laughing. "So what other weird shite do Muggles do?"
"I'm gonna go to sleep, Malfoy. Care to join me? Actual sleeping?" She said, raising her eyebrows. He thought about it for a moment. There would be no shagging - it would be INTIMATE.
"Actually, I think I'm going to make an appearance at the Slytherin tower. Maybe brush my teeth - change clothes you know." She gazed at him, and nodded.
"See you later, maybe."
"Maybe, mudblood," he said and smirked, watching her climb into the bed before he left, shuffling quickly to his room, having to be inside soon.
It was quite odd to have the entire Slytherin common room staring you down, even when it's just a mere ten or twelve people. But when Draco had entered the room, the mood had obviously switched quite noticably. You could have heard a wand drop. Goyle, whose family was busy disemboweling missionaries in Africa, turned to face his long-lost mate, his face turned a ghost-white. I've only been gone for ten days, Draco thought, then he remembered his disheveled black eyes and lack of having eaten. He'd not eaten even with Hermione.
"Where have you been? You look like you've walked out of a grave," he piped up, and Draco shrugged.
"That's right, Goyle, I've been dead."
"But - how are you here? If you're a ghost, why don't I see through you?"
"Goyle, you tubby bastard.... bloody dumbass. I've been on an impromptu trip with my... uncle," he said, careful not to mention his father's escape. "His BOSS wanted some work done," he said, attempting to hint at Lord Voldemort, but Goyle just sat blankly, obviously thinking about stickers or pants or Amazing Dancing Gummi Bears. Draco, sighed, and scratched his head which still ached somewhat. He muttered a Pain-Killing spell, and marched up to his room. He slammed the door, and stood, the world around him quite confusing. It had been nothing but pity sex, but now he was a mudblood and... were things different? He felt different. There was no longer a REASON to hate Hermione. But he still had to. Father's orders - keep everything as it were. Your mother ran off with your brothers and filthy muggle mate in the middle of the night and she left everything here.
"Well, so you've shagged Granger. Perfect," he heard his father's voice croak, and from upon the bed, he saw not only his father, but a wretched-looking skinny old man. Lord Voldemort was at Hogwarts, standing in his room.
