DAY ONE
Hermione took a deep breath leaning against the door frame of Brazen Fox, their favourite bar, which could be found just off Diagon Alley.
The cool night air was a welcome change compared to the stuffy interior of the bar that smelled of alcohol and sweat in this surprisingly warm summer weather.
Hermione jumped slightly as lightning illuminated the already dark street, barely lit by street lamps in the first place. Wizards really need to work on public facilities some more, she thought.
Hermione sighed. She could have noticed it was pissing down with rain before so hotheadedly getting up and leaving. But her friends were driving her up the wall and she had decided that enough was enough.
The rain was not showing any signs of stopping; on the contrary, it was falling heavier with each passing minute. The regret of having all the drinks hit her just as she was about to Disapparate and she realized she couldn't - unless she wanted to lose her permit or a limb, for that matter. She couldn't decide what the better option would be. She shimmied out of her jacket and pulled it over her head before stepping out into the rain. It did little to nothing in saving her from the onslaught of bad weather, but at least she could give herself an 'A' for effort.
The cold raindrops hitting her exposed skin made her breath hitch. This little endeavour was going to make her ill, she was sure of it.
Her mind travelled back to the discussion she had had with her friends. Well, a fight would be more fitting to describe it, actually.
Ron always seemed to treat her like a child. Still. Even after all those years, he felt entitled to control her life, under the guise of wanting the best for her.
Tonight's hot topic was her apparent lack of stability in relationships.
She was a whore.
Her eyes met Ron's disapproving look across the table.
"Did you sleep with him?" he asked directly, not letting her out of his sight.
Hermione's eyes widened at his question before she proceeded to blink several times in confusion. "I'm sorry, what?" she managed to reply.
Ron just shrugged, quirking his brow in challenge.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Just curious," he said dismissively. Ron jerked, hissing under his breath, staring daggers at Ginny, who, judging by the look on her face, had kicked his shin. "Ouch, what was that for?"
"Shut up, Ronald," she said, shaking her head, staring back at him.
Ron sighed. "Why? It's true! If it continues like this, soon we won't need the Auror's department - all we will need is Hermione pulling favours from people she's shagged."
The table fell into an uncomfortable silence. Neville became rather interested in the fake plant on the table; Luna was looking around, shooing away whatever she thought she saw; Harry stared at the grooves in the table with wide eyes, while absentmindedly playing with the wedding band on Ginny's finger. Ginny, just like Hermione, narrowed her eyes at Ron.
"Oh, this is perfect!" Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "One last time, Ron, I would really appreciate it if you would mind your own business and stop trying to control my life. And let alone stop shaming me for living my life freely."
"Living your life freely? Is that a Muggle expression for being a wh-," he stopped himself, realizing he had gone too far.
"Being what? A whore? Is that what you were going to say?"
They had this argument regularly. It never ended well, naturally. But Ron wasn't a quick learner.
Harry hardly ever said anything against Ron, trying to appease both sides. His relationship with Ron became strained shortly after she and Ron had broken up.
That one time, Harry took her side.
They didn't speak for almost six months; Ron left the Auror department in an act of defiance; Mrs Weasley sent both Harry and Hermione a howler for being mean to her dear Ron… Which she still did not get an apology for, Hermione realized as she thought about it, nor did she know when Harry and Ron had made peace.
That was two years ago.
Since then, she had fully put herself out there, not looking for a relationship, but unwilling to be alone. Lonely moments just got lonelier.
Hermione was brought back to reality when she saw a shadow move out of the corner of her eye, just as she turned onto the narrow side street, leading to her favourite shortcut back to the Muggle world. She tried to convince herself it was just the sleeve of her jacket flapping in the wind.
But too soon she became aware of footsteps following her, disturbing the puddles again after they stilled behind her.
She gulped and started walking faster. She cursed herself for refusing Neville's offer to walk her home. She should have swallowed her pride and agreed. Or perhaps he would have let her stay on the couch in his flat just above his little Apothecary in Diagon Alley - she would have very much liked that. Ron would have grumbled, but it sounded way better than dying in her mid-twenties.
Hermione was almost running. Her heart beating out of her chest, she could hear the blood rushing to her head. The wet cobbled street was making it more difficult than she would have liked. Her foot slipped several times on the curved top of the stones. Hermione hissed, taking another step, almost sure she had twisted her ankle.
Just as she was sure she would make it out onto the street, the stranger's cold fingers wrapped around her arm, pulling her to the side. Hermione lost the grip on her jacket and it landed with a slosh in a muddy puddle.
She yelped as the stranger pushed her back against a wall in a dark, blind alley, knocking the wind out of her. Before she realized what had happened and had a chance to react, the stranger snatched the wand out of her hand, pocketing it.
The same cold fingers grabbed her chin, making her look up.
"Malfoy?" she furrowed her brows at the familiar face, framed by white-blond hair. Something looked off about him, but her quickly rising rage did not deem it important. "You absolute sack of shit! You scared me half to death!" she snapped at him, smacking his chest. He did not budge, but her hand ached. "Give me back my wand. Now, Malfoy! For the love of gods, stop being a prick."
As she went to hit him again, he snatched her wrist. Hermione's eyes widened as his nails grew right in front of her eyes, the blackened tips digging into the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist. She hissed.
"Malfoy?" Hermione repeated as her eyes met his once more. They were no longer ice cold grey - the colour she remembered from school or their brief run-ins at the Ministry. They were pitch black.
He looked like death personified. Hermione shuddered, paralyzed by shock and fear. Her body felt numb, her feet ten times heavier than mere moments ago. But her mind was working overtime.
He was pale.
Stone-cold. She fought off a shiver remembering the first moment his hand had touched her.
His eyes changed colour.
Stronger than he looked, incredible reflexes.
He flashed a smile as the realization dawned on her.
He was a vampire.
And she was cornered.
Cornered by a vampire.
Her luck…
"You have no idea how sweet you smell, Granger," he finally spoke, stepping closer to her, leaning his elbow against the wall by her head, and brushing his lips against the shell of her ear. "When you are near, it's like I've hit the jackpot. You are all I can think about. It's absurd, really. I tried… I tried to stay away. You'll have to trust me on that," he muttered, licking the side of her neck.
Hermione squirmed, trying to get away from him.
But he had her boxed in, with barely any space to manoeuvre. "My will is not that strong, Granger. You can't fight me. You are totally in my mercy…" Draco breathed out against her face, pushing her hair back.
Hermione let out a small whimper - he was insane.
"Please, let me go," she swallowed a sob, turning her face away from him. "I won't say a word to anyone, I promise."
"Consider me a drug addict," Draco whispered, slipping his hand into her hair. His fingers raked through her hair, nails dragging over her scalp hard enough for her to still feel them when they're long gone.
Hermione swallowed visibly, her eyes straining to look at him.
He looked in pain; trying so hard to control himself, to stay together.
Desperately trying to hide the animal he had become. But his eyes were betraying him. Despite them being black bottomless pits, he looked feral.
An animal held back by the last thin thread of its leash.
His head dipped to her neck again, leaving sloppy kisses. Hermione shivered at each and every contact of his lips and tongue on her skin, goosebumps popping up all over her body.
His lips hovered over the pulse point in her neck. Hermione shuddered; not even his breath felt warm against her skin. "You are a poppy and I am in dire need of some opium," he admitted, kissing her neck again. Grazing it with his teeth.
Hermione yelped at the sudden sting as a pair of fangs sank into the side of her neck. "Please," she begged him, reaching to grab at his arm as he pushed her head further to the side, granting himself better access to the vein on the side of her neck.
Draco pulled away, healing the two puncture wounds he left behind. His tongue collected the pooling blood, licking the bite mark clean. Draco breathed in sharply as if he had just emerged from a deep dive.
Hermione let out a shaky breath of relief, rejoicing that it was over, but he tutted at her.
"My mother tried to teach me better, but I like to play with my food now… The thrill of sinking my teeth into warm flesh is indescribable, so…" he trailed off as he languidly licked the now healing, and tingling, wounds again. "I am taking advantage of gifts given to me by this curse. Shhhh, the more you thrash around the worse it will be," Draco whispered before his fangs drove into the already irritated and tender skin on the side of her neck once more.
Hermione gasped for air at the sharp pain as tears stung in her eyes. He was much harsher the second time around. Hungrier; more selfish. Out of control.
She knew screaming and calling for help wouldn't do her much good, and even if she wanted to, Hermione couldn't find the strength to make a sound. Her voice was taken from her, just as the air from her lungs had been.
Hermione smacked his arm, his chest, any part of him that she could reach. Draco let out a deep, guttural moan against her neck as she continued to struggle. It was life or death.
She gripped his shoulders, trying to push him away. It was all wasted effort; he was not budging, and with each gulp of her blood he took into him, she felt herself getting weaker.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her up against him as she was slowly sliding down the wall, head spinning and knees slowly losing the ability to hold her up.
"Draco… Please…" Hermione forced out with the last bits of strength within her before the world faded to black.
DAY TWO
Hermione's eyes snapped open with horror.
Realizing she was lying in bed calmed her down. She closed her eyes again, pulling the blanket closer to her chin - for such a horrendous dream she deserved a lie in. Turning onto her side, she tucked it under her cheek. The cool silk against her skin felt heavenly in the warm weather that had had London in its firm grasp for days.
Her blood ran cold.
She didn't have silk sheets.
Hermione sucked in a deep, ragged breath. Searching for the smell of potpourri she had on her nightstand or the traces of her fabric softener on her sheets. Instead, her nose filled with hints of mint; something fresh, almost herbal and rather musky cologne.
It didn't smell like her sheets either.
Her eyes flew open again.
The curtains were closed shut with no sliver of light getting through them. Hermione was sure it must be light outside already, despite not feeling rested at all and rather achy, in fact.
As her eyes got used to the dim lighting, the room revealed itself to her.
It was rather impersonal. Plain grey walls, a few pieces of furniture made from dark wood. No plants, no paintings, not even any picture frames. No hint of personality anywhere.
The only source of warmth was the vintage looking lamp on the dresser opposite the bed. It lit the room dimly with its weak, flickering orange light.
Hermione pushed herself to sit up. She felt dizzy and her head spun.
"Lay back down," a voice said from the right side of the bed. She jumped; she hadn't noticed anyone next to her.
Malfoy was casually sitting there, leaning against the headboard. Arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed. If she didn't know better - she would say he was dead.
In a panic, she scrambled as far away from him as she possibly could.
He had bitten her. Then kidnapped her…
"Calm down, Granger. I won't hurt you."
She glared at him. "Oh, that's funny after… tonight? Yesterday?"
"It's only been a couple of hours, actually," Draco answered, shrugging. "I appreciate that we understand the word hurt differently, but I mean it - lay back down. If you try to get up, you will only hurt yourself."
"Find yourself another walking blood bag," she spat, rushing to get out of the bed. To her horror, only in her underwear. "Why the hell am I almost naked? Malfoy, I swear to Merlin himself, I will stake you in your sleep…"
Draco winced lightly at her accusation. "I did not want my bed to smell like Potter and Weasley. Your clothes stunk of them," he groaned in response. "I won't fuck you unless you beg me to, don't get your panties in a twist. Besides - I don't sleep. Not anymore."
Hermione shook her head, throwing her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Within milliseconds, she knew he was right. Her vision became fuzzy and her legs grew numb. Her knees buckled under her weight.
But before she could hit the ground, Draco was by her side. He wrapped his arms around her, scooping her up with annoyed mumblings under his breath.
"Bloody witch… always so stubborn. As if I haven't told you…" he groaned, dropping her gently back onto the bed.
If he said anything else after that, she didn't know. Her eyes fluttered shut again.
Her eyes slowly blinked open what might have been hours later. Hermione felt Draco laying behind her, his fingers gently running through her wild hair.
Waking up to Draco stroking her hair made her think it was a dream. But the dull pain at the side of her neck and the creeping headache were cruel reminders that she was very much awake.
"Let me go," she said. Draco's hand stilled before pulling away as he shuffled further away from her. "Your secret is safe with me. I won't say a word, I swear," Hermione whispered.
Draco huffed. "Already?" She nodded, swallowing all the unnecessary comments she had wanted to say. "Fine. But allow me to heal you first," he agreed, an odd smirk spreading across his face.
"That's not needed. I am fine. I feel much better," she replied, shaking her head while sitting up again. It wasn't better, her head spun, but this time around, she was confident her knees wouldn't betray her. "You won't Obliviate me? You will let me go? Just like that?"
"Not just like that," he growled as his fingers wrapped around her wrist. Hermione hissed at his firm grip, it almost hurt. Knowing her body, she would be left with a bruise. "Granger, I wasn't asking. Either you let me or I'll make you."
Hermione rolled her eyes, leaning back against the headboard. "Fine. Go grab your first aid kit," she said, crossing her arms over her chest like a petulant child.
Her eyes widened as Draco brought his wrist to his lips and bit down. Extending his bleeding arm towards Hermione.
"Drink." Hermione stared at him blankly. "If the blood stains the sheets, Granger…" he warned her.
She hesitantly shuffled forward, but still moved too slow for Draco's liking. He grabbed the hair at the back of her head, pushing her towards his arm. Smearing the blood around her face as she tried to resist. He yanked on her hair forcefully, pushing his wrist against her lips as she yelped with pain.
Swallowing the first few drops of his blood split her consciousness in half. It made her sick to her stomach. Drinking someone else's blood felt wrong. Evil even. But at the same time, it made a world of a difference already. It made her spine tingle and awakened this thirst in her that she never knew she had.
Hermione gripped his arm and sucked harder. His blood tasted like the most expensive champagne to her. Hermione could not imagine stopping drinking. Ever.
As if she had just drunk from the elixir of life itself, warmth returned to her body; blurry objects in the room she couldn't focus on before became sharper; the birds outside sang louder and she felt as if she could fight God. In fact, she wanted to - she felt invincible.
Draco barked a surprised laugh at her vigour and let go of the grip he had on her hair. Instead, he stroked her hair gently, once again.
"That's a good girl," he hummed as her tongue briskly swept up a small streak of blood running down his arm. Hermione almost purred at the praise.
Perhaps now she finally understood the drug reference he had made earlier. If he felt similarly drinking her blood, she felt compelled to forgive him.
His blood was wreaking havoc in her body, eliciting responses that were very unlike her. Hours ago she would never have assumed she would be purring against Malfoy, getting goosebumps as his fingers ran through her hair, let alone waking up in his bed. Merlin, this is his bed.
"Granger, that's enough," Draco said, trying to pull away from her hold, but Hermione clutched it a bit stronger. "Let go, Granger," he drawled with an unnaturally low voice and as if lightning had struck her, she released her grip on him.
Hermione quickly shuffled back, pressing herself flat against the headboard. Too scared of herself.
"How- how did you do that?" she muttered, staring at the blond licking his wounds, with wide eyes.
Draco glanced at her. "Make you stop? One of the perks of being what I am."
She shuddered at the idea that he had the power to make her do almost anything, in theory. Hermione still liked to believe in some level of free will, but tonight, anything seemed possible.
Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, realizing she was still only in her underwear and Draco was cold as ice.
Thank your lucky stars for wearing a matching set, a voice in the back of her head reminded her. She furrowed her brows briefly, wondering why that was one of the first things on her mind.
Look at him, isn't he hot? the voice kept nagging her. And you are so lonely, Hermione.
Her eyes reluctantly shot towards Draco, standing by the bed and unbuttoning his white shirt, drops of blood around the cuffs and collar. Hermione's breath hitched in her chest as he pushed it down his arms and let it fall to the floor.
He reminded her of the Roman statues of the perfect male form. There were faint scars across his chest and abdomen, probably a memento of the Sectumsempra Curse that Harry had thrown at him back at Hogwarts.
But besides that he was flawless. Lean, but muscular.
Hermione gulped as her eyes travelled to his defined abs, prominent V-line and faint happy trail leading down from his belly button into his pants. Sweet Merlin, she thought and squeezed her thighs together, looking for any sort of pressure or friction.
Draco walked across the room and pulled out another shirt from a wardrobe. Hermione's eyes followed him all the way there and back, not letting him out of her sight.
He terrified her. Her stomach felt tight and unstable whenever his eyes were on her. Her instincts picked up on the fact that he was, indeed, a predator; he was a wolf and she was the sheep he'd been hunting.
But he was a magnet and she felt the pull towards him. Even before today, she couldn't help but follow him with her eyes whenever he walked by her office. Seething to herself whenever he was in Witch Weekly or the Daily Prophet with another blonde on his arm. Hermione vividly remembered one particular photo, some witch he had pinned against a lamppost, grabbing her ass. That one was by far the worst.
Her head fell back against the headboard, his blood running its course through her. She felt somewhat ridiculous being so suddenly overwhelmed by her Achilles' heel in the form of Draco Lucius Malfoy. Even more so as she had no idea when it had happened. It was simply there one day and had never gone away since.
Hermione's fingers brushed over her throat, remembering his fingers there. She tried to mimic his touch with her considerably smaller hand, failing miserably. She shuddered; she craved his touch. It felt as necessary as breathing at this point.
She rubbed her thighs together, tracing all the spots on her skin that he had touched, places he could touch if he wanted to.
Imagining Draco's hands roaming over her body, she slipped her hand into her knickers. Hermione dragged her fingers through the unsurprisingly slick lips of her cunt, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves.
Her mind was empty except for Draco. The way his eyes turned black, his fangs peaking over his lower lip. The way his lips had worked the skin on her neck earlier.
A low moan escaped her lips as she pushed a single digit inside of herself, remembering his breath against her face and his hand buried deep in her hair. Hermione arched her back, leaning into the touch.
She wondered whether he thirsted after her as much as she did him. Did she make him feel the same way? Did he get high on her? That's how she felt. She felt high.
Merlin, how she wished it was Draco touching her like that right now.
Draco cleared his throat. Hermione's eyes shot wide open. He was standing by the foot of the bed, looking at her with an amused expression on his face. His eyes lowered to her hand still in her knickers.
Hermione sat there frozen as her cheeks slowly grew redder. She struggled to understand how she could forget he was still in the same room as her.
"That's a first," he drawled, licking his lips. Hermione waited for the ground to swallow her whole. "By all means, please continue. But if I may ask - who are you thinking about?" Draco asked with a smirk on his face, dressed in a fresh shirt which he had left unbuttoned. He casually leaned against the bedpost.
"You," she whispered, as at that point it couldn't get any worse to be honest. Hermione gathered up enough courage to look at him. Draco didn't look surprised. She waited for the blush to creep up his neck, only to realize he was dead and didn't have a pulse. And to her further astonishment, her body didn't consider it a turn off. He was dead and what of it? "It's because of your blood, isn't it?" she threw the first idea at him, not expecting it to stick.
Draco chuckled as he sat on the bed in front of her. "Partially. It just heightened feelings that were already present within you before. Unfortunately, I cannot plant thoughts or feelings in people's minds."
Hermione stared at him as her mind ran to all the times he was in her office for team meetings, just casually perching himself on her desk; all the times she got dragged to dinners with Harry and Ginny only to be stuck with Draco for the evening, being the third and fourth wheel… Ginny! She was the only one who knew about her secret infatuation with the tall blond in the office across the hall from her.
"Don't hold it against her. I knew before she ratted you out. Your heart rate blew your cover, besides other things…" his voice trailed off, his lips stretched into a sly smirk. Hermione blinked at him. "I have a certain affinity for your thighs. Not only because of the juicy artery. I find it rather… endearing when you rub them together when I am close by. And the smell, Granger! Indescribable," Draco rolled his eyes theatrically.
She gaped at him, lips ajar. He could smell her… arousal. She was fucked. Absolutely, royally fucked.
I won't fuck you unless you beg me to.
Her heart was beating out of her chest. Hermione wondered what had gotten into her as she cleared her throat to speak. It must have been the dangerous cocktail of drinks she had consumed earlier and his blood that had given her this idea.
"Did you mean it?" she asked, holding her breath.
"Did I mean what?"
"That you won't fuck me unless I beg you to," Hermione explained, forcing the words out as quickly as possible.
Draco blinked once. Twice and then a couple of times more.
"Do you want me to beg?" She stared at him expectantly, rising onto her knees.
Draco gaped at her, stuck in-between a state of shock and flipping out. "Granger, you bloody maniac," he groaned eventually. "Are you pulling my leg right now?" He narrowed his eyes at her.
"I mean it," she said as she crawled over to him, slipping astride his lap. "Do you want me to beg, Malfoy?"
Draco's hands ran down her sides, over her arse to her thighs, squeezing her flesh as he pulled her flush against his torso. "I thought you'd never ask," he whispered, nuzzling his nose against her neck, taking in her scent. Not even his breath was warm against her skin. A shiver ran down her spine with each of his exhales, cool air hitting her warm flesh.
"Fuck me, Malfoy," she whispered, slipping her hand into his hair. "Please, I am yours. Take me," Hermione purred, slowly rolling her hips against him. Perhaps torturing herself more than him.
Draco grabbed her hips, stilling her movements as he looked at her, pupils blown wide as his eyes darkened. "Think twice about it. I'll fuck the last coherent thought out of you - is that okay with you?" he asked, staring into her eyes. Hermione felt hypnotized, for the first time, appreciating his eyes up close.
They were cold silver with a dark border around the edge of his irises. They made her question her love for gold.
"I am asking no less, Malfoy," Hermione murmured, her fingers tracing the harsh features of his face that she had grown to appreciate over their shared time at the Ministry. The sharp and defined jawline, hollowed out cheeks, squared-off chin. He wasn't supposed to be attractive, but mother nature mixed it just perfectly.
Holding her hand against the side of his face, he felt the need to reiterate. "I don't know how to be gentle, Granger," Draco forced out, looking at her as if he expected her to pack it up and run. Hermione nodded, she would agree with anything at this point. She had got this far and wasn't going to back out just because he wouldn't make love to her. After all, she had asked him to fuck her. Draco grabbed her chin, making her look into his eyes; looking for hints of hesitation, fear even. But for once she was sure he wasn't going to find any of that.
Draco smirked, happy with his findings; his thumb grazing and tugging on her lower lip. Hypnotizing as it sprung back. Hermione breathed out, the tension between them getting to her. When she finally thought he would kiss her - his tongue only traced the edge of her lower lip. Only when she sighed, opening her mouth, did he kiss her.
The kiss stole the breath from her. There was no hesitation in the way his lips crushed and devoured hers. He knew what he wanted and he was going to take it. Just what she would expect from a Malfoy. His hand slipped into her hair, yanking her head back as he left marks down the side of her neck.
His hands nudged her hips to move. "Do you like to be told what to do, Granger?" Draco asked, smacking her ass. The movement of her hips stuttered at the burning sensation on her left arse cheek. "Speak, Granger," he prodded, smacking the other.
Hermione hissed. "Yes. Yes, I do," it came out almost as a whimper.
She flinched slightly when his hands landed on her arse again, but he only massaged it. Feeling her jerk under his touch, Draco steadied her, looking her dead in the eyes. "Say a word and we can stop. If you don't like something - tell me, Granger. I don't want to hurt you."
Her heart skipped a beat or two. Hermione blinked at him in surprise. "I'm fine. I can cope."
He tsked. "No, this is not girl guides. No putting on a brave face. I'm crossing spanking off the list…" Draco almost scolded her. Hermione opened her mouth to protest. "You've recoiled from my touch, Granger. That's a no from me. Talk to me, okay?"
Hermione nodded with an exhale. "No need to cross it off, just not as hard… I- Since... well, I don't do well with pain," she explained, her eyes darting to her left forearm and the faded mudblood scar.
Draco clenched his jaw, nodding. "See? Words. It works… Can I touch you?" he whispered in her ear, catching her earlobe between his teeth.
"Please," she whispered, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck.
Draco gripped her thighs, standing up with her. She was amazed by the ease with which he managed it. And with another swift but smooth move, she landed back on the bed.
Hermione squealed as her head hit the pillow and she pushed the hair out of her face just to see Draco crawling towards her. He gripped her ankles and pulled her lower, closer to him. She giggled. This time it was Draco who pushed the unruly curls away from her face. He examined her face for a moment. Hermione was still laughing, when he joined their lips again, grinding down against her.
He dragged his hand down her throat.
She clutched onto his shoulders, trying to pull him closer to her. She wanted to feel his whole weight on top of her. With her legs hooked over his thighs, Hermione raised her hips, bucking them against him. Repeatedly, feeling him get harder against her.
Draco broke the kiss. His eyes were black. "Can I bite you?"
"Now?"
"No, at some point tonight, if you'll have me," Draco whispered, his hand running down her sides. She hesitated. "You have my word for it… it can feel better than sex itself," he mumbled against the skin of her neck. Hermione shivered as he sucked on the spot of the original bite.
"I am yours," Hermione uttered, her fingers running through his hair. "I trust you."
She could feel Draco's smile against her skin. Sitting back on his heels, he ran his fingers down her sternum to her lower abdomen, stopping at the band of her knickers.
"Malfoy!" she complained, when he ripped both sides of her panties, throwing them aside. "I liked those!"
Draco dismissed her, pushing her knees up against her chest. He was a man of few words and before she really grasped what was happening, his tongue ran through her folds. Hermione hooked her arms under her knees as she threw her head back with a moan.
Vampire speed and cunnilingus were made to work together. Hermione turned into a writhing mess just with his tongue and lips on her. Once he pushed two fingers inside, she screamed. He was teeth, tongue and hunched shoulders pressing against the back of her thighs.
"Draco, please," she cried out as he curled his fingers up, hitting the exact spot inside of her that just about catapulted her into space.
He let go of her clit with a loud smack. "Hermione," Draco replied with her given name in return. She clenched around his fingers, nearly able to taste the sweet release on her tongue. "Want to come?" he whispered, almost teasing her. She nodded with a scowl as his lips brushed her inner thigh.
"Yes, yes, I do, please," Hermione nodded fervently. "Draco, please."
Draco kissed her inner thigh again as his fingers kept pumping in and out of her, hitting her sweet spot. If she tried to stretch, she could touch the orgasm she craved so much and pull it to her gently. But Draco had other plans.
Driving his fangs into her inner thigh just where the artery was, he abruptly shoved her into the clutches of one of the most intense orgasms she had ever experienced. The bite and his fingers were a deadly combination. The world turned black as her eyes rolled into the back of her head, one hand clutching the sheets and the other desperately trying to get a grip on Draco's hair. She was far from done seizing when she felt his tongue run over the bite marks.
Her legs were still shaking when his face appeared in her field of vision. His fangs were gone and his eyes were silver again, minus the dilated pupils. Draco wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb, sucking it clean.
Such a tease, she thought, trying to catch her breath.
Hermione raised herself onto her elbows, confused when Draco got off the bed.
"Don't worry, I am not done with you, yet," he said with a smirk, getting rid of his uncomfortably tight trousers and pants.
Hermione watched him undress, unknowingly chewing on her thumb. He looked so effortless, casual even, taking his time removing his clothes. Teasing her surely. Hermione's heart skipped a beat whenever his muscles moved in a way she had never seen before and he must have been aware of her heartbeat. Or rather the relentless drumming of her heart against her chest. Her eyes widened as his dick sprung free.
That's not gonna work, she thought, staring at him, or rather it, as he got back onto the bed, hovering over her. Hermione blinked, quickly gathering her wits about her. Did he expect her to blow him? Was she supposed to jerk him off? Her mind drew a blank, she felt like an inexperienced virgin laying under him.
Draco grabbed her wrist as she reached for his cock, tutting at her. "Did I tell you to do that?" he asked, pinning both of her wrists above her head easily with one hand. Hermione shook her head. "Be a good girl then," he drawled just mere inches from her face. His lips traced the edge of her jaw, leaving a wet trail in their wake.
She could barely pay attention to his lips kissing and biting the skin on her neck and shoulders, or the hand palming her breasts, rolling her nipples; all that her mind could register at that moment was his cock resting against her abdomen and thoughts of where he thought that might fit and how.
"You'll be fine," he whispered as if he could read her mind. Yet somehow she doubted his reassurance. It wasn't the length she was worried about, but rather his girth. Hermione nodded, nothing to say. Except that he was short of marble if he believed that.
Draco nudged her thighs further apart as he positioned himself between them. His hands ran down her chest and her sides slowly as he tried to memorize every curve of her body before repositioning her hips. She gave a shudder when he dragged the head of his cock through her folds, just teasing her entrance. Hermione let her head fall back onto the bed, covering her eyes with her forearm.
He was driving her insane. She ached for him. With each empty thrust of his hips, her cunt clenched around nothing.
"Draco- fuck!" her complaint was cut short as he pushed into her to the hilt in one firm thrust. Hermione's fists closed around the sheets. She blinked repeatedly, her eyes fixed on Draco, eyes shut, mouth agape, brows coming together with pleasure.
Tears stung her eyes from the sudden, somewhat painful stretch. She took a jerky breath as he almost fully pulled out only to slam back into her, his hands pressing bruises into her thighs and hips, giving her little to no time to adjust to him.
Hermione tried to touch him, stretching one arm to his sides, abdomen, chest or anything she could reach in an attempt to pace him. He was bottoming out inside her with each thrust. He was big, maybe almost too big.
"You're amazing," he huffed, grabbing her reaching hand. Intertwining their fingers, he pinned it above her head as he lowered himself on top of her. Draco leaned on his other elbow just beside her head, getting a handful of her hair in his fist.
A loud moan ripped through her throat as his cock kept slamming into her. The uncomfortable fullness and sting finally turned into pleasure. Hermione cursed him. No one would ever feel the way he did inside her. A wizard, a vampire and an incredible shag with a magical penis. What a combination.
True to his word, he was anything and everything but gentle. Hermione liked the rough side of him. It suited his personality. He was used to getting what he wanted by any means possible.
Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pulled him closer. Draco buried his face in the mane of her hair, grunting as she clenched around him, moaning his name.
Draco pushed himself up, his chest rising quickly. His eyes were dark and his eyelids heavy. Hermione gasped as he suddenly pulled out, looking up at him, her hips following him.
"Roll over," he said in a low breathy voice. Hermione blinked at him but did as she was told, raising herself on her hands and knees. "Flat on your stomach, Granger," Draco clarified, pushing on her lower back. Hermione sprawled out on the bed, turning her head to look over her shoulder at him. He leaned over her, grabbing a pillow before raising her hips effortlessly, stuffing the pillow under her. Happy with the height and angle of her hips, Draco positioned himself behind her.
This time she didn't fight off a loud yelp as he slammed into her. The different angle was a game-changer. He felt even bigger as he took her from behind.
His hand was pressing on her back between her shoulder blades, keeping her upper body flush against the bed.
Hermione buried her face in the bedding, muffling her moans. She was done holding back, no regard to who might hear her.
"Don't hide your pretty face," he mumbled, pressing his front against her back. She turned to look at him. Draco swept the hair out of her face, clearing the side of her neck as well. His hand wrapped around her throat, compressing the sides carefully.
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. His tongue grazed the shell of her ear before tugging on her earlobe.
Rough, but she couldn't accuse him of being an inattentive or selfish lover. His hands and lips were on her almost the entire time; stroking, rubbing, kissing, biting —if she could think it, he was doing it. He fed off of her reactions. The louder she moaned, the more she writhed, the more intense his hands and lips became in their ministrations.
His breath felt extra cool on her skin, glistening with sweat, and she doubted he did himself any favours by wiping his brow on her shoulder. She was just as sticky as he was.
His hips stuttered and his grip on her throat tightened. He was close, she could feel his cock throbbing inside her.
"Come," she moaned, barely above a whisper, her voice hardly audible over the sound of his hips meeting hers. "Come inside me," Hermione begged. "Draco, please."
His only response was a deep guttural grunt, too distracted to form words. Turning her head, he captured her lips in a bruising kiss. Hermione moaned against his mouth as his thrusts gained momentum again. The rhythm in which his hips snapped into her was relentless and unforgiving. Her cunt squeezing him with his every move.
The knot in her lower abdomen was tightly coiled and about to burst. Hermione tried to hold her orgasm back, waiting for Draco.
He nuzzled her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses, bruising the already bruised, tender skin.
"Can I?" he groaned, his fangs popping into place. Hermione nodded, tilting her head to give him the best access to the side of her neck. "I want you to come, Granger," Draco instructed her, licking a stripe up her neck, balling a fist in her hair, pulling harshly. "I might reward you if you're a good girl."
Hermione wanted to come just from his words alone, the low timbre of his voice sending shivers down her spine. She nodded. After all, she would agree to anything with the way his dick was buried deep inside her.
Draco snaked his arm under her, reaching for her clit. She gasped as his fingers started rubbing circles into it, just as relentlessly as his hips met hers.
"Come on, come around my dick," he drawled into her ear.
He didn't need to ask twice. Draco didn't even need to bite her this time to send her spiralling. She came apart under him, toe-curling orgasm ripping through her body like wildfire. Her hips pushed back against him, craving to capture his cock inside her forever.
His hips stilled as she tightened around him, but his fingers kept going, circling the engorged bundle of nerves, making her legs shake. She was a panting mess under him, biting down on her fist, trying to find the ground beneath her feet again. Hermione felt almost dizzy from it all.
As his hips moved again, she hissed. So damn sensitive.
"That's a good girl," he growled, pumping in and out of her with questionable pace. "I think you've deserved it," Draco whispered into her ear.
With one last roll of his hips, he came with a grunt, sinking his fangs into her neck. Hermione moaned as he proved again that the bite was indeed just as pleasure-inducing as sex. The quick sting as he punctured her skin was replaced by shudder-inducing rapture as he sucked on her neck.
Thinking it impossible, she came again around him as his seed spilt deep inside her.
Draco retracted his fangs, lying spent on top of her, his head buried in the crook of her neck. Hermione felt numb and boneless, panting after the most intense experience of her life.
He had ruined sex for her, forever. She had suspected he would, but now she was sure of it. Nothing and no one would ever come close.
Draco groaned lightly as she tried to move beneath him, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist. "You're crushing me." She giggled at his possessiveness. Draco just hummed, licking the bite marks to heal them. Hermione took a jerky breath as he finally pulled out of her and rolled onto the bed next to her.
She laughed shortly, hiding her face in the sheets. Draco glanced at her, confused. "Sorry, I- the irony of this just occurred to me."
"Granger, don't tell me you are able to form a coherent thought after that," he pretended to be disappointed, but Hermione could feel a tinge of amusement hidden in his tone. "What's ironic?"
"Before I left the bar, I got into an argument with Ron," she started to explain. Draco scoffed as she mentioned Ron's name. "He called me a whore. So, this is ironic."
Draco pulled her against his side. "You are my whore if anything. But I will still break his neck if he ever says that again," he forced through his teeth.
Hermione raised her head, looking at him. "Don't look at me like that," he groaned, his eyes shut.
"There's no need to get this riled up over a one-time shag," she frowned.
"One time shag, Granger? I intend to repeat this countless times. As long as you will have me," Draco said, the corner of his mouth pulling up as he shook his head in disbelief.
DAY ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-FIVE
Hermione grabbed the file off of her desk and strode across the hall to the office of her favourite closeted vampire. She didn't have the chance to knock before Draco had already called, Come in.
His brow furrowed as he raised his eyes to her, noticing the grin on her face. "What is it?" Hermione shoved the file into his hands, without a word. The wrinkles between his brows grew deeper as his eyes jumped between her and the file.
"Go on. Open it. It's a program for the next Wizengamot session."
Draco blinked, still not comprehending what could be so grin-worthy about it. But following her instructions, he opened the file, raking over the text with his eyes. He was already at the end and about to open his mouth to complain when he realized what he had just read.
Settlement of relations and equal rights of magical minorities (werewolves, vampires, centaurs etc.) - presented by Hermione J. Granger, Adviser to the Ombudsman of Wizarding Communities
"You are joking, right?" he gaped at her. She smiled, shaking her head. Hermione was proud of herself. Not for getting Wizengamot to debate it, but for rendering Draco speechless. He always had something to say to everything. This was her small victory.
"Wha- How?"
"Power of personality, I suppose," she shrugged, grinning. Draco stared in awe at her as he leaned back in his chair, running both hands through his hair, tipping his head back.
"You are unbelievable," he muttered when he looked at her again. "Damn…" Draco huffed as he got up from the chair, rounding the desk to pull her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around his torso, taking in his cologne. Draco pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You know, if muffling charms were not banned, I'd-"
"Fuck me into the desk?" she offered with a giggle.
Draco scoffed, amused. "Good shout, but no. I'd make tender love to you, because dear Merlin, I am lucky to call you mine," he corrected her. Hermione raised her head to look up at him, blinking at the verbal affection. As she did, he pressed another kiss onto her forehead.
"YOU AND MALFOY?!"
They whipped around to see Harry and Ron frozen in place at the door. Harry just stared at them with wide eyes, desperately trying to process seeing his best friend in an embrace with an ex-Death Eater. Ron on the other hand was as red as ever, putting his hair to shame with the shade of his face.
Hermione sighed, glancing at Draco. "You knew they were there…"
It wasn't a question nor an accusation; it was just a fact. Draco tried to give her an innocent look, but the corners of his mouth raised into a smirk, blowing his cover.
Harry looked between them and sighed. "I guess we are early for the meeting."