Hermione unknowingly ingests a lust potion in the middle of the school day. How ever will she cope?
Warning: this chapter contains non-consensual drug use, though Draco is NOT the one that does the drugging.
Something was amiss with the Head Girl.
All Hermione knew was that she'd woken that morning as usual, feeling perfectly fine as she disentangled herself from the Head Boy. Nothing about the morning had been particularly different or odd; she'd eaten breakfast with her friends, attended her classes, deducted house points from a few young Hufflepuffs getting too rowdy in the hallways, and cast a subtle grin at the Head Boy when he winked at her in Charms.
It wasn't until later in the day, when she was leaving the Great Hall after lunch that it started.
The it in question began as nothing more than a mild heat in her abdomen, which Hermione initially dismissed as early menstrual pains, even though it didn't necessarily hurt. However, as she walked to Transfiguration, the heat gradually increased to a steady burn, one that made her flush with embarrassment when she recognized the burn as one of arousal.
Hermione's steps slowed as she fought to keep her expression neutral. Confusion and panic pricked her chest as the torturous heat pooled low in her belly, and was soon followed by a familiar rush of liquid in her knickers.
The Head Girl clutched her bag tighter, limbs shaking and chest heaving as her heart rate picked up, spreading the burn to the rest of her body.
Fuck, fuck, what was happening to her!? This wasn't normal! Sex had been the furthest thing from her mind, but even if it hadn't been, such an intense onset of sudden arousal was just plain unnatural!
By the time Hermione reached the Transfiguration classroom, she was nearly squeezing her legs together in attempt to conceal her sudden affliction, as well as provide some form of relief to the demanding pulse between her legs.
A head of platinum hair drew her gaze, and Hermione bit back a gasp when a fresh gush of arousal soaked her knickers.
Head Boy Draco Malfoy briefly caught her staring, lips curling into a friendly smirk. Hermione's knees felt like pudding.
Blinking rapidly, the Head Girl jerked her eyes away and hurried up to her seat, genuinely afraid she might jump him right there in the classroom if she had to endure his smoldering stare any longer. The moment Hermione plopped heavily down in her seat, a strangled yelp escaped her throat. The boy in the seat next to her gave a startled look, but she was too busy trying to gather her composure to notice.
The moment her clothed core hit the bench, a stab of pleasure had overtaken her, one that made her clutch the edge of the desk in attempt to resist the urge to shamelessly grind her cunt into the wood. Hermione bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, but the prick of pain was quickly drowned out by the mind-numbing arousal currently strangling her. Her nipples were tight and aching, her clit was throbbing, and her knickers were so drenched she was afraid they might soak through her skirt and leave a wet spot on the bench. Merlin, that would be humiliating!
Hermione hadn't even registered class beginning. She couldn't hear McGonagall's voice, only the rushing of her blood and the pounding of her heart in her ears. As she restlessly crossed and uncrossed her legs several times, she desperately scraped together the remains of her rational mind to conclude that she must have accidentally ingested something. A lust potion, maybe? It was a logical conclusion, but she had no idea when or how she might have taken one. Had someone slipped her one during lunch? Who would want to drug her like that? And in the middle of a school day, no less?
Though Hermione tried to seriously ponder these questions, her hormone-addled brain was in no state for theorizing; it instead turned to the Head Boy sitting a few rows below.
She squeezed her thighs together against the tidal wave of arousal that washed over her as she recalled the night before, when he'd bent her over the loveseat in the Head dorms and stuffed his cock inside her. Hermione's toes curled tightly as her cunt pulsed longingly, remembering the sweet torture Draco had put her through.
"-and other such things. What do you think, Miss Granger? I'm sure you have your own theory on the matter."
He'd teased her ruthlessly, fucking her slowly as he held her hips in an iron grasp to prevent her from thrusting back against him. The prat had also put a sticking spell on her hands so she couldn't move them, leaving Hermione unable to provide any relief to her mounting frustration and desperation to come. It wasn't until she'd begged to his satisfaction that Draco finally relented, pounding hard enough to make her see stars.
"Miss Granger?"
Hermione had gotten her revenge, of course. Later in the evening, she'd emerged from the shower and purposefully strut herself right in front of him, pretending to search for a lost bottle of lotion. Predictably, Draco had pounced, never able to resist the sight of her freshly showered and wrapped in nothing but a towel. Hermione knew this all too well and took full advantage of it as she lured him into her room and shoved him onto her bed. The Slytherin had been far too distracted to notice his Gryffindor lover grabbing for her wand, and suddenly found himself tied down and completely at her mercy. Draco's indignant hisses and complaints had soon turned into helpless moans and pleads as Hermione edged him with her fingers and tongue until his cock was flushed and dripping-
"Miss Granger!"
Hermione jumped in her seat, grasping the desk when she nearly fell right out of it. Blinking and panting softly, she squinted until Professor McGonagall's pinched expression came into focus.
"Miss Granger, are you quite alright? You're looking a bit feverish."
Her head started to move automatically, but Hermione stopped herself mid-nod. The truth was she wasn't alright, not in the slightest. Her body felt like it was on fire, breasts and pussy so alight with arousal that it was starting to hurt. And she knew it would only get worse the longer she went without some kind of relief.
Pursing her lips, Hermione shook her head dazedly. "I…I'm feeling a bit under the weather, Professor. Sorry."
McGonagall nodded. "No need to apologize, Miss Granger, it happens to all of us. You're dismissed from classes and your Head duties for the day. I suggest you pay a visit to the infirmary."
Nodding heavily, Hermione shakily stood up, biting back a whimper when the movement caused another surge of liquid heat to wet her already drenched knickers. She was certain her face was strawberry red from both excitement and embarrassment as she descended the steps with her thighs pressed as close together as dared, genuinely afraid the evidence of her arousal might run down her legs for all to see.
McGonagall watched her with wary eyes. "Would you like someone to escort you to the infirmary, Miss Granger?"
Chest stuttering, Hermione quickly shook her head and picked up her pace. "No no, I'll be fine, thank you," she stammered out and hurriedly left the classroom before McGonagall could ask if she was sure, completely oblivious to the pair of silver eyes watching her exit with visible concern.
The moment she was out of the public eye, Hermione proceeded to do something she would usually deduct house points for in a heartbeat; she ran down the corridors.
Fueled by desperation and humiliation, the Head Girl booked it through the halls, ignoring the shouts of alarm and demands to slow down from the portraits. The Gryffindor was holding onto her rational mind by a thread, knew that the monstruous lust rushing through her blood would drive her to insanity if she didn't satisfy it soon.
Thankfully, the Head dorms weren't too far from Transfiguration, and within ten minutes, she'd reached the portrait. Gasping out the password, Hermione practically fell through the entrance. She leaned against the back of the portrait and slid to her knees, her trembling legs unable to support her a moment longer. With a wave of her hand, Hermione wandlessly vanished her ruined knickers and tucked a hand under her skirt. She sucked in a sharp breath when her fingers brushed her severely swollen clit, the stimulation making her spine bend. Forehead almost touching the floor, Hermione swiped over her clit one, two, three times, then she was coming with hoarse whimper.
For the briefest moment, the heat seemed more bearable, allowing the Gryffindor to catch her breath and wonder silently at how quickly she'd finished.
However, that flash of reprieve lasted only a few seconds before the burning returned with a vengeance and swallowed her up. Moaning miserably, Hermione thrust two fingers inside herself with ease, pumping them furiously as fluids ran down her thighs. She slapped her free hand over her mouth to muffle her gasps and groans, embarrassing squelching sounds filling the common room.
Hermione managed to throw herself over the edge three more times before her fingers tired too much to continue. Tears had begun to leak from the corners of her eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity and fear that it wouldn't stop. Though she'd come four times now, it only seemed to have whet her body's appetite for more.
When this was over and Hermione found out who'd done this to her, she was going to hex them stupid!
Withdrawing her drenched fingers, the Gryffindor managed to force herself up on her finicky legs and stumble her way up the stairs. She felt almost drunk as she shed her clothing and entered the first room she came across, not even realizing it wasn't her own until she'd collapsed on the bed. The dark blue silk sheets felt like heaven on Hermione's sweat-laden skin. As she burrowed her face into the pillow, the familiar scent of Draco's shampoo nearly brought her to a fifth orgasm.
Whimpering, she eagerly pinched both nipples, wishing her fingertips were his instead. Her hands weren't quite large enough to cradle her breasts like his were. Nor were her fingers long enough to reach that glorious spongy spot inside her as his always do. No one brought her pleasure quite like him.
"Draco," Hermione rasped as she rolled onto her stomach. Face buried in his pillow, the Head Girl clutched the bedsheets with one hand while the other desperately worked her clit. However, to her dismay, orgasm continued to elude her; the pressure behind her navel built and receded, but refused to burst.
Her hand cramped terribly, but she could only stop for a minute before the crippling need drew her aching fingers back to her pussy. Hermione began to cry softly as the burn overwhelmed her, desire, exhaustion, and frustration churning inside her muddled brain.
It was no use. Her own fingers were no longer enough. Her body craved the touch of another. She needed help, she needed…
Needed-
"Feeling under the weather, are you?"
Hermione drunkenly turned towards the open door, blinking as the familiar figure came into focus.
Draco was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, eyes raking over her naked form appreciatively as he smirked. "I must say," the Slytherin continued, "if anyone ever told me that Hermione Granger would skive off classes so she could engage in a little menage a moi on my bed, I'd have sent them to St. Mungo's."
Hermione blinked again. Frankly, she was trying to discern if Draco was really standing there, or if the potion in her system had affected her to the point that she was hallucinating.
The Head Boy's eyes narrowed in confusion when she didn't reply. The Gryffindor was staring at him with an expression akin to Loony Lovegood's, glazed and not all there. Her hand, though unmoving, was still tucked between her legs, and her limbs were visibly trembling.
"Uh…Granger?" Draco asked uncertainly as he approached.
At the sound of his footsteps, Hermione nearly collapsed with relief. He was there. He'd come for her, like a knight in some fucked up fairy tale, here to rescue her from the scalding arousal that was currently eating her alive.
Hermione sucked in a breath and reached out for Draco like a fallen damsel, playing into the story her endorphin-filled brain had concocted.
Once he'd reached the bed, she sprang up on her knees and all but threw herself at him. Draco grunted as he caught her, breath hitching when she started rubbing his semi-hard cock through his trousers. Any other time, he'd have accepted her advance happily, no questions asked. However, Hermione's uncharacteristic, and frankly, rather strange behavior gave the Slytherin pause.
"Granger, wait," Draco breathed as he pulled back, taking his lover by the shoulders. Unaffected, Hermione instead grabbed his wrist and shoved his hand down to her quim.
"Holy fuck-"
His response came out in a choke, eyes popping open as he registered how obscenely drenched she was; his fingers were coated within half of second of her desperately rutting into his hand. Torn between arousal and bewilderment, Draco turned his gaze to Hermione's face, which was pinched as though she were in pain.
Upon meeting her eyes, his stomach dropped with realization. With her face flushed red, tear-stained, and pupils blown unnaturally wide, the potioneer in Draco immediately recognized the signs of magic-induced lust.
"Holy- Granger, what did you take!?" the Slytherin asked with mild panic, but received no answer, as Hermione suddenly came all over his hand with a breathless moan.
Draco held her up as she slumped against him, and he could feel the heat from her skin through his clothing. "Shit, Hermione," he muttered uneasily as her entire body shook with tremors.
Hermione gave a weak moan and started grinding her hips into his. "Please," she breathed, making Draco shudder as her hot breath caressed his neck.
"Granger, wait – oh, Merlin…" the blond groaned when she once again stroked his now fully hard erection. The Head Girl's free hand wandered under her lover's shirt while her lips kissed a path up his neck. Draco's eyes slipped shut, getting lost in the feel of her touch. The telling clink of his belt being undone snapped him out of it.
"Fuck, wait, wait. Granger, stop." The Head Boy took his Gryffindor lover by her shoulders, gently pushing her back until they were eye to eye. Hermione blinked in confusion and whimpered in protest. Draco moved his hands to her upper arms and rubbed them soothingly as he spoke. "Listen, you're clearly under the influence of some sort of potion. We need to get you to Madame Pomfrey." When she shook her head fervently, he tightened his hold. "Granger, please. What if it's something dangerous?"
"It's not…it's just a lust potion. A very…very strong lust potion. I-I don't even know who slipped it to me or why…" Hermione trailed off, squeezing her thighs together with a pinched expression. "Draco, please! The arousal, it – it's too much! I need you!"
Draco's expression wavered. "I-I can't shag you like this, Granger, I'll feel like I'm taking advantage of you…"
She shook her head rapidly, curls bouncing around. "You're not! I'm asking you, so please…"
He bit into his lip, trying not to buck into her hand. "You're clearly not in your right mind," he said through clenched teeth, "and I might get carried away. C'mon, let me take you to the infirmary – mmph!"
Draco moaned when Hermione lurched forward and claimed his lips, her hot tongue darting out to explore his mouth. The Slytherin couldn't help but melt a little into her touch, especially when her pert nipples rubbed against his chest so wonderfully-
Growling, Draco shoved her away, causing her to collapse to her knees on the bed. "Dammit Granger, I'm trying to do the right thing here! You need an antidote, and we need to figure out who did this to you!"
Hermione stared blankly for several long moments. Then, to Draco's dismay, her eyes started filling with tears. "I-I'm sorry," she whimpered.
The Head Boy's hands hovered awkwardly around the teary brunette. "Fuck – why are you crying!? Come on, I'm trying to help you!" he said frantically. He'd never had any talent with crying women.
Hermione sniffled, thighs quivering. "I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't have touched you without permission. I didn't realize you didn't want to."
Draco's mind blanked. Didn't want to? She thought he didn't want to!? How could someone so brilliant draw such an unbearably ridiculous conclusion!?
Rubbing her eyes, Hermione turned away and laid on her side, curling up into a ball. "It-it's fine. I don't need to see the nurse. I'll just wait for the potion to wear off. I don't want people to see me like this."
Staring at her incredulously, Draco let out a long sigh and loosened his tie. He never thought attempting to be a gentleman would make him feel like a right cad. Then again, he never thought he'd have a reason to turn down a beautiful witch who was literally begging him to fuck her. He still had reservations about this whole situation, but she at least seemed to be clear-minded enough to know what she was asking for. Besides, it wasn't like this was their first time or anything.
Hermione jolted when she felt the bed dip, and a familiar naked chest pressed into her back. "Don't cry, Hermione," whispered her Slytherin lover. "We'll make it alright."
His lips pressed into her neck, and she trembled. "Draco, no foreplay, please…just fuck me!"
Later, the Head Girl was certain she'd feel supremely embarrassed for weeping and moaning and pleading to be shagged like some desperate hussy, but right now, the relentless arousal flooding her body made her incapable of caring.
"Right," Draco breathed shakily. Tucking one arm under her leg and the other beneath her neck, he lined himself up with her entrance, making her whimper with anticipation. "Hold tight, Granger."
The moment he plunged into her, Hermione came with a cry. Draco made no comment as he ploughed into her with abandon, lifting her leg high as he fucked her from behind. His free hand slinked down to roughly squeeze her breast, yet the pain only sent her higher. Eyes nearly rolled back in her head, Hermione had to brace herself against the headboard to keep from slamming her head into it with each one of his forceful thrusts.
And yet, all she could hear were the high-pitched moans and gasps coming out of her own mouth, her broken pleas for him to fuck her harder, faster. Draco complied with a growl, teeth closing around her ear as he cant his hips wildly against hers. The headboard was smashing into the wall with a rhythmic BANG BANG BANG, making Hermione glad that their dorms were private, because there was no hiding the X rated activity going on.
All she could do was grasp his wrist and hang on for dear life. Her leg and hips were certain to be sore tomorrow, but hell if she cared, because his cock was stabbing through the heat.
Hermione blindly reached down in search of her clit, and she heard Draco moan in her ear. "Fuck yeah, play with your little clit while I fuck you."
She keened at his familiar domineering tone and obeyed. It didn't take long before yet another orgasm swept over her, the overwhelming stimulation making her give a silent scream.
"Fuck, so hot…you're so hot inside, love," Draco gasped as he fucked her through it.
"Dra…a…cooo!" Hermione cried brokenly, starting to feel lightheaded.
The Slytherin swore as she moaned out his name. Suddenly, Hermione felt his hand close around her throat. Without warning, he squeezed just enough to make breathing difficult. The otherworldly sensation threw the Gryffindor over the edge before she could even realize it.
"Merlin, gods, Merlin, Hermione! So tight – clenching so hard-" Draco choked, but his lover could hardly hear him anymore.
Hermione was coming so much, she couldn't tell if she was having one long, intense orgasm, or several small ones. Her vision began to darken at the edges, and her mouth hung open dumbly, unable to comprehend anything but the painful pleasure shaking her in its grasp.
Just when Hermione was certain she'd pass out from the onslaught, Draco moaned hoarsely behind her and came. Like a cold front in fall, the raging heat simmered away as she felt his release fill her womb, the nefarious potion releasing its hold on her.
An insurmountable amount of moments passed before Hermione became aware of Draco calling her name. She struggled to twist her head around. Her limbs felt like lead, every muscle crying out with relief at finally being allowed to rest.
"Granger?" Draco said again, silver eyes tight with concern.
Hermione blinked up at him, her sluggish mind struggling to come back down to earth after the experience it had just been put through.
"Ah, fuck," the Head Boy cursed, rubbing the back of his neck.
For some reason, this made her giggle.
He arched a brow at her. "I think that potion might have made you go a little barmy."
"You might be right," Hermione croaked, throat aching.
Frowning, Draco flit his fingers over the marks on her neck, a mixture of guilt, pride, and possession churning in his gut at the sight of them. "Accio bruise paste." A nearby drawer rattled, followed by the aforementioned jar flying out of it and into the blond's hand. Hermione smiled as he carefully applied the paste to her neck, feeling her muscles relax.
"This is why I was hesitant to shag you," Draco said, not looking up from his task, "lust potions lower the drinker's inhibitions. With you in that state, I knew you'd be unlikely to refuse anything I tried to do to you. As skilled a lover I may be, I must admit, self-control has never been a strong suit of mine."
"Or humbleness," Hermione replied with a snort.
He rolled his eyes, screwing the lid back on the jar. "I can't believe you thought I didn't want to have sex with you. We've been sleeping together since the beginning of the year, why would I turn you down now, silly witch?"
She blushed. "Hey, all my rationale and logical thoughts were being utterly suffocated by the potion, even I don't know why I was thinking that way."
Draco smirked indulgently, leaning down to place a sweet kiss on her lips. "Well, now you know. You're alright now though, yeah? I can still take you to the infirmary."
Hermione groaned. "Are you kidding? Go out in public all sweaty and gross, and reeking of sex? No thanks. Besides, I genuinely don't think I can walk right now. I just want to go to sleep for a few…days."
"Hm…good point. Besides, your hair resembles a wild bird's nest right now," the Slytherin added playfully.
Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. He chuckled and laid down next to her, resisting the urge to reach over and play with her cute nipples. She usually didn't mind a little post-coital teasing, but he doubted she could take anymore stimulation right now.
"So, you really have no idea who slipped you that potion?" Draco asked after a while.
"Not a clue," she sighed. "But, it wasn't all bad, I suppose. That thing you did, when you put your hand round my neck…I liked it."
He quirked a brow. "Oh, did you?"
Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah…it was very thrilling. Made things a lot more…intense. I wouldn't mind trying it again."
Draco smirked, a hint of relief in his eyes. "Good to know. But uh, next time, we should probably do it when you're not going half-mad from a lust potion. Honestly, I probably shouldn't even have done that without discussing it with you first. I don't even know why I did it, it just…felt right."
The brunette hummed, running a hand down her lover's pale chest. "Yes, it probably would have been better if we talked about it first, but it turned out alright. Maybe sometimes it's better to follow our instincts in the heat of the moment. I mean, we have safe words for a reason, you know."
He nodded slowly. "I suppose you have a point."
Hermione smiled sleepily and stroked his cheek. "Thank you, by the way, for watching out for me. You're the best shag partner a girl could ask for."
Draco sputtered. "A shag partner, you say? Is that all I am? And I suppose that extremely romantic picnic by Black Lake I took you on last week was just a conjugal visit? And all the gifts we've exchanged were just little 'thanks-for-a-smashing-shag' presents? And those three little words you said to me just last night were meant for my dick and not me?"
Hermione rolled over. "I'm tired right now, ask me again in the morning."
"Granger, you'd better take that back!"
"Shh, I'm sleeping now."
"Sleeping my arse!"
Meanwhile, skipping merrily through the hallways after being released from Herbology, a fourth year Slytherin girl with a vindictive streak and a skill with confounding charms was humming victoriously.
Her little plan worked out perfectly. Slughorn had been all too easily distracted and a tiny bottle of the lust potion they'd brewed in class was pilfered without a hitch. Even the half-wit Gryffindor she'd confounded into slipping the potion into the Head Girl's pumpkin juice hadn't messed up or been caught like she thought he might.
She'd gotten to watch with undisguised glee as the witch gulped down every drop, none the wiser of its more nefarious contents.
And, thanks to the scandalized reports of a few portraits, she knew it had worked, too.
Now, she and the entire school could enjoy a whole day without either of the Heads breathing down their necks, as the Head Boy was undoubtedly helping the Head Girl with her situation.
Honestly, did those two think they were sneaky? They basically spent every meal period eye-fucking each other from across the hall!
No matter, as it proved nothing but beneficial for her. Maybe she'd even sneak into the Head office and swipe back her stash.
This would teach the great and almighty Hermione Granger to confiscate her bodice rippers!
Watch out for sneaky young Slytherin girls this holiday season!