Having Fun With The Devil
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Cruel Intentions Style
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and properties belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.
Summary: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy are sworn enemies, and this time things go too far. A war is set, and extreme measures are met. Everybody deserves a little sexual harassment in this show, but have things gone too far? Who will win, and which one will be bitten by the unlikely sensation of love?
"How was your Christmas?"
Hermione continued to fork at her rather large portion of unappetizing breakfast and shrugged, not looking up from Witch Weekly - The Latest Edition. Ron was across from her, scribbling furiously into his notebook, which was unusual for him so early in the morning, and Harry was eating little bites of his food, talking every so often about what had happened at the Burrow. Christmas was over, and the usual chatter of bright morning started again. Everyone was disappointed that classes had begun again, and were doing last minute homework, or talking to their fellow students about what they had gotten for Christmas.
"Brandon - he's a muggle. Really, very, so cute! He gave me this little slip thing, I told him I wouldn't wear it but it was a 'naughty' gesture for him. He groaned, of course. I just wish I could have at least one more week with him," hissed Pavarti Patil to her friend, Lavender Brown. Hermione rolled her eyes, trying to block out their conversation. Only Pavarti would ever use a carelessly grammered sentence such as "Really, very, so cute!"
It was well known that Lavender and Pavarti, though not sluts, were anticipating the moment they became ones themselves. It infuriated her greatly how much Brandon reminded her of Haden. No, stop thinking about him, she demanded herself harshly. You have Harry, remember? Speaking of Harry...
"Harry, would you mind if I talked to you privately?" she whispered in his ear. Harry nodded, looking at her with a puzzled expression. He got up, which recieved a swift glance from Ron.
"Hermione and I will be right back," he merely stated, before they walked through the Great Hall and went out to the hallway.
Hermione followed two steps behind him, however, her need to 'talk' was not taken sincerely by Harry, because he grabbed her quickly and planted a hard kiss on her mouth. She let go, returning the kiss for a second before their lips were not collided anymore.
"Harry, I'm serious. I really do need to talk to you. About Ron. About us, about everything! We haven't thought of anything! I am freaking out, okay?" she reported bluntly to him, folding her arms across her chest stubbornly.
"'Mione, classes are going to begin, and I know you wouldn't want to miss the first day, now do you? We'll talk later. Meet me eight o'clock at the Astronomy Tower. We'll talk things through, and by tomorrow we'll have Ron notified. Just trust me, okay?" he said, grazing her cheekbone tenderly. She sighed, nodding.
"You know I can't say no to that face," she said, laughing slightly.
"I'll have to remember that," Harry teased, giving her a raise of an eyebrow. Rolling her eyes, Hermione grabbed his arm.
"Let's go before anybody suspects something..."
"Suspects what, Potter? Oooh, are you and your girlfriend discussing an 'evil plan'? Count me in," snarled a sarcastic prone-voice behind Harry. They both turned around, and looked into the gleaming eyes of Malfoy.
"Shut up, Malfoy. C'mon 'Mione, let's go," Harry said, giving Draco a murderous glare, and tugging at Hermione's arm.
"So, Granger, I'll see you at midnight, in my room?" his voice trailed off suggestively. Hermione clenched her fists, her face turning red.
Before she could respond physically, Harry had slammed Draco against the wall harshly, dragging him to the floor.
In other times, Hermione would've said, "No, stop it," but this was a different time, and Hermione enjoyed herself greatly as she watched Harry go on top of him and clutch his throat tightly.
"Harry, let's go. You don't want to waste your energy on this ferret. Please?" Hermione finally said. Harry obediently got up and left Draco on the floor, brushing himself off, obviously satisfied with his handiwork. Draco's nose was dripping slowly with blood.
As Hermione and Harry proceeded to go into the Great Hall once more, Draco's threatening voice echoed throughout the halls.
"You'll pay for this, Potter!"
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Harry checked his tiny muggle watch apprehensively. It was promptly 8 o'clock, time for Hermione. He grinned slowly, glad that he would be able to see Hermione. Although she had scheduled the time to 'talk' he knew that after a few bundles of chatter he could manipulate her to a small little kiss, and even a little more than that...
By the time he was out of the common room and into the large hallways of Hogwarts, it was five after eight, and he was hurrying into a fast walk, and then, unexpectantly, something hard bellowed a large blow to his head, leaving him to fall against the floor.
He heard a few murmurs, but they could've been his own, trying to regain consciousness.
His last thought before he fell into a deep faint was that he was going to be late.
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"You're late," Hermione's voice rang out disapprovingly. "Explain yourself, Mr. Potter."
A small chuckle escaped from behind her. She refused to look at him. She didn't want him to judge by facial expression that she was trying hard not to laugh herself. Strong arms soon wrapped around her waist.
"Sorry, I was held up," said Harry, in a deeper, husky voice.
"Well, we're wasting time. We should be talking about how we're going to tell Ron and what happened between ..." her voice faded off as she felt Harry's soft lips trail across her neckline.
"Harry!" she said, trying to squirm out of his grip. But he caught her once again, and she felt herself colliding against him, his lower body retracting a reaction onto her back.
Hermione closed her eyes, trying to control herself. Harry did not usually act like this. What was going on? The faint, familiar smell of perfume reached her nostrils, and she scrunched up her nose in distaste. Harry didn't wear cologne. Was he trying to seduce her? Hermione would've laughed at that, but it was working.
His hand embraced the tangles of her hair, tugging at it. She fell more deeply against him, not trusting herself to open her eyelids. His hand was wandering onto her thigh, grazing it tightly. She had a deja vu about Harry grazing her cheekbone tenderly. This was not Harry. Her eyes snapped open, turning around.
Her eyes were slowly connected to not emerald ones, but gray, icy, cool ones, with a nape of silver hair. Before she could speak, Draco's lips brushed against hers, and forgetting all the consequences that could happen, she gripped Draco's waist tightly in her small, frail fingers, not wanting to let go. He pressed his lower body against hers, making their lips slowly drift apart. Hermione gave a small moan caught in her throat as he clutched her back tightly, his fingernails digging into her robes.
"Please," she murmured, unaware of what she was saying. It wasn't really happening. It was just a fantasy to dwell on, and having fantasies was not against the rules. She wasn't cheating on Harry! She was just having one little fantasy. That was it...how could something that felt so good be sinful? It's not real, she told herself, feeling drowsy as Draco's weight fell into her, and her back hitting the floor hard.
She didn't want to stop. It was never like this with Harry. With Harry, it was hurried and oddly gentle. With Malfoy, she wanted it now, over and over, and over again...
"God, you're still wearing your little school uniform...with your little innocent skirt," he muttered, his tongue outlining the frame of her lips.
"I'm so innocent," she replied, her eyes half closed as his lips trailed across above the waistline of her skirt. She felt his fingers inside of her skirt, fumbling around with the pieces of fabric. She felt her own fingertips lead the way to unbuttoning her blouse, leaving it half-unbuttoned.
What was he doing? His lips were slipping across the warm flesh of her legs, nipping at every chance he got, except to the main target. Her hands went to grip his head tightly.
"Do it, bitch," she said, grinding her teeth.
"Demanding, eh? I thought you were innocent."
Hermione pushed him off of her, and ignoring the protest from Malfoy, she crawled into him, and began unzipping his pants carelessly.
"What're you doing?" he breathed.
"I'm going to play a little game of my own."
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