A/N: This is one of the chapters I've had to rewrite...not sure how it has turned out, but we'll see... I could have toned down the scene that was here before, I guess, but doing that forces me to walk the line between R and NC-17, I don't really want to do that right now. I think its ok as it is, and I hope you guys do too ^_^ If you want all the juicy details, please see my website, where the full, original version is available.
**DISCLAIMER** I'm not JK Rowling. I'm just a poor university student who likes to write stories. So please don't sue me.
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Chapter 6
When Draco's mouth came down on hers, Hermione didn't know whether to curse herself for being incredibly glad, or curse Malfoy for taking so damn long to do it. She wanted to kill him for the things that he had said, but she also knew she'd want to kill him if he stopped kissing her in that slow, exquisitely thorough method. He hands came up to cup her shoulders for a moment, then slowly slid down, and she marvelled at how just that slight touch could send shivers through her.
Dammit, Draco thought to himself as he proceeded to kiss Granger for all he was worth. In the back of his mind he knew that this wasn't what one normally did with your enemies. But then again, he thought, most enemies probably did not have the chemistry that the two of them did. Just because she was a Mudblood, that didn't mean that he should have to deprive himself. And he couldn't help but get some satisfaction from knowing that he made Miss Hermione Granger, the pet of Hogwarts, moan in the back of her throat as she was doing now.
Hermione suddenly drew back and stared up at him. Her lips were darker than normal and swollen from the pressure of their kiss, and her eyes were wide.
"I hate you," she said slowly, simply.
He chuckled, running his hands down her arms to slip around her slender waist. "The feeling's mutual, Granger," he said. "I don't think either of this wants to feel this way - you're a fucking Mudblood, and I'm a Malfoy." he said.
Her eyes narrowed at the insult, but he spoke before she could say anything.
"But that doesn't stop me from feeling this way," and as he said this he pulled her close to him, so that she was flattened up against the length of his body. Her eyes darkened as she felt the evidence of his arousal pressed against her.
He bent over and brushed away the hair from the side of her neck, then proceeded to press a kiss to the soft spot beneath her ear. She shivered as he spoke again and his warm breath tickled her skin. "And I know that you feel the same way as I do," he said slowly, proceeding to trail his tongue along her neck from the base of her ear down to her collarbone.
"I don't understand...," she said, trailing off in a gasp as he nipped the sensitive skin on her neck gently, then soothed the spot with the wet heat of his tongue.
"Whats to understand?" he asked with amusement as he drew back. He grinned at her mockingly. "Sex doesn't take hate into consideration, Granger. Sex doesn't have to be about emotions...it can be simple, no strings attached. And if you want it, thats what you'll get."
For a moment Hermione stared up at him, unsure what to say. Part of her was bristling with indignation at what he had said, but the other part was longing to continue what they had begun. She was acutely aware of the way his body felt pressed up against hers. Her hands were still on his arms where she had put them when he had pulled her close, and underneath her fingertips she could feel the heat of his skin burning through his shirt, and the coiled tension of his muscles. He arched a brow as he looked down at her.
"Well?" he asked. "I'm not going to make this easy on you, Granger. I know that I could seduce you and have my way with that sexy little body of yours, but I'm not going to risk you running to anyone with some sob story about how I forced myself on you. If you want it," he said, staring deep into her eyes, "come and get it."
Hermione glared up at him, then shifted against him slightly, hoping that he would kiss her again, but he merely stepped back slightly, putting some space between their bodies. She muttered a curse under her breath, then reached up and pulled his head down to hers. As their tongues twined together the thought ran through her head that she would probably regret this later, but then as passion surged between them, the thought was swept away.
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Later that night, Hermione lay on her bed, gazing off into the darkness. Her dormitory room was quiet, except for the soft sounds of Lavendar and Parvati breathing. She had been lucky, all her friends had been in bed when she had arrived back from detention.
She sighed softly. Her mind was in a daze. So many thoughts were swirling through her head...thoughts of what she had done, thoughts of what could happen now, thoughts of the past before this year.
She had always been Hermione Granger, the smart student. Grades had always been important to her, and she had always wanted to do well in school. When she had found out about Hogwarts, she had gone out at once and read as much as she could. The history of the old magical school had fascinated her, and as she read about all the wonderful and powerful wizards and witches that had graduated or worked within the school, she had promised herself that she would make her parents proud.
Until she had come to Hogwarts, her life had been normal... She had never really had any very close friends. Nobody had really hated her, but neither had they really liked her, either. Until she came to Hogwarts, and met Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.
They hadn't liked her at first - nor had she liked them. She had thought that neither of them took their place at Hogwarts seriously enough, and she had always wondered how Harry, being The Boy Who Lived, could seemingly take things so lightly. But then they had saved her from that awful troll, and ever since then they had been the best of friends.
And her life had changed irrevocably. So many things had happened since then. Ron and Harry had taught her so much about friendship, and about how there was more to life than textbooks and marks. School was important, yes, but it should never get in the way of friendship, when it came down to it.
On the opposite end of things was Draco Malfoy. She'd never been hated until she met him. She had never hated anyone until she met him, either.
And oh, did she hate him. He was so cocky and arrogant, obnoxious and rude, callous and unfeeling. She had seen him hurt so many people, and she knew that he didn't care one bit. He had always tried his best to make life miserable for Harry and Ron, and more than once she had found herself on the recieving end of his malicious comments.
And now here she was lying in her bed, recovering from what had been the most intense sexual experience of her life.
And it had been with Draco Malfoy.
Granted, she hadn't had that much experience. She and Viktor hadn't had a totally platonic relationship, but it hadn't gone anywhere near to what she had done with Malfoy.
And she wouldn't have wanted it to, either. Viktor was nice, she had enjoyed being with him. But to put things plain and simple, he didn't really turn her on.
Not the way that Malfoy did.
And oh, did he ever turn her on. Even now, when her whole body felt replete and satisfied, she found herself thinking about the way he had touched her all over. The way he had looked without his uniform on, and the way he had felt when he had been moving deep inside her. How could somebody that she hated so much, make her feel so good?
As this thought ran through her head, Hermione blushed and groaned.
What was she going to do?
She could try to just ignore Malfoy, but she had a sinking feeling that approach wouldn't bring her much success. She had detention with him for the next two weeks, for god sake!
She flinched as she found herself swearing. What was wrong with her? She had never had thoughts like this before.
She had never done anything like this before either. She had wanted to have more fun this year, yes. Wanted more experience, more of a social life. She had wanted to actually have something interesting happen to her that didn't involve Harry and the countless intrigues that surrounded her best friend.
But what the hell had she been thinking? A year ago she would have never done something like have sex with one of the other students of Hogwarts. And in the Library, no less!
And what were Harry and Ron going to think? If they ever found out that their best friend had had wild sex with Draco Malfoy - well, who knew what their reactions would be. They wouldn't be happy about it, thats for sure.
And there was the rest of the school too - wouldn't the Slytherin's just love it if they knew that Draco Malfoy had managed to get Hermione Granger? She knew that Draco's housemates detested her almost as much as he did.
And Gryffindor...what would her friends in Gryffindor think of her... or the professors...or her parents...or Hagrid...
She groaned and rolled over, burying her head in the welcoming softness of her pillow.
She could just die now and get it all over with, she thought drearily. For she knew there was no way she could possibly survive the next two weeks of detention with Malfoy, let alone the whole year.
What had she gotten herself into?
She closed her eyes, determined to get at least some sleep before the night was through. Tomorrow she had classes, and she had to be ready for those, no matter what was going on in her social life. She would think of something to get her away from Draco later. There was no way she was going to have sex with him again.
But before she drifted off into dreamland, one last thought floated through her mind.
Hate or not, she really wouldn't mind having another experience like that sometime soon.
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In another part of Hogwarts, Draco lay on his back in his bed, unaware of the fact that he was staring off into space in much the same way as Hermione had been doing a few moments earlier.
His hands were laced behind his head and the covers were pulled up just far enough to reach his waist, leaving his chest bare. He shifted slightly on the bed and winced.
Who knew that Granger would be such a wildcat, he thought with amusement.
He'd had scratches before, of course. Some of the Slytherin girls, such as Pansy, seemed to delight in leaving their mark on him. Of course, knowing this he always healed them right away, much to their dismay. He rolled his eyes. Like he was going to let any of the little sluts actually have something to brag about.
But scratches from Hermione Granger? Practically priceles. He would definitely leave those to heal on their own. Just to remind him of what she was hiding beneath that prissy, good goody goody exterior of hers.
And her attitude in bed matched her body, he thought, his smile widening into a grin as he thought about the way she had looked, moving beneath him, pleasure written across her face.
The smile faded from his lips as he thought about the other consequences to what he done in the Library with Granger that night.
He was a Malfoy, after all. His father would definitely not approve of his son having sex with a Mudblood, especially a goody goody Gryffindor Mudblood who was friends with Harry Potter.
He sighed, and a bitter smile twisted his lips. He knew his father would never listen to him when he said that fucking Hermione Granger had just been the same as if he had got it on with any of the other girls at Hogwarts.
No, Lucius Malfoy would turn it into some big thing. The filthy Mudblood had seduced Draco, he'd insist. And that would mean that Draco was weak.
Malfoy's had to be strong, his father had always told him. They were their own people, and didn't take shit from anyone.
He had used to believe that, until he saw how his father bowed and scraped to Voldemort. His father was as much a fucking puppet to the Dark Lord as anyone, and it made Draco sick.
If Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord when he was only a sniveling baby, then obviously he wasn't such a great wizard after all, was he. Draco hadn't been able to believe it when he finally laid eyes on Potter. The way everyone talked about him, you would think that he was half god himself.
Draco snorted to himself. He doubted that gods had black hair that wouldn't stay put, or big green eyes that always looked slow and terrified behind those big glasses that Potter always wore.
Of course, he could never tell any of this to his father. Who knew how many hours of torture at the end of Lucius' wand such thoughts would earn him.
His hands, now down at his sides, clenched into fists.
Of course, he could never tell anyone what his father put him through. He was a Malfoy after all - Malfoy's didn't complain, they took what was coming to them and bore it. Unless it was outside the family. Then they waited, and plotted, and in the end got sweet revenge.
But revenge would never be an option for him, now would it, Draco thought. Lucius Malfoy had been Voldemort's little pet, and had weaseled his way back into that position with cunning now that the Dark Lord had returned.
But Draco was tired of being his father's little puppet. He wasn't going to give up great sex just because she was a mudblood. And besides, the satisfaction of knowing that he drove her wild was too sweet, and dammit if he was going to give that up either.
So for once in his life, Lucius Malfoy would just have to fuck off and leave his son alone.
Draco gritted his teeth and forced his mind away from thoughts of his father.
He stretched slightly and grinned as the pleasant aching sensation that came from good sex spread through his body. He could do with another round right now, actually. A chuckle escaped his lips as he pondered what Granger would do if he was to show up in her chambers right now. He could just imagine her face as she frantically tried to convince him to return to his own chambers before he woke up any of her room-mates.
A yawn escaped his lips despite of himself, and he rolled over, groaning as the sounds of Crabbe and Goyle's snoring filled his ears. They really did seem to get worse every year, and if it wasn't for his father, he'd have dropped the dumbasses a long time ago.
With a wave of his wand, which had been sitting on the bedside table, silence fell around his bed, and Draco began to drift off to sleep. As his body relaxed and his mind drifted, one last thought came to him.
Hate or not, he wouldn't mind having another experience like that, and the sooner, the better.
**DISCLAIMER** I'm not JK Rowling. I'm just a poor university student who likes to write stories. So please don't sue me.
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Chapter 6
When Draco's mouth came down on hers, Hermione didn't know whether to curse herself for being incredibly glad, or curse Malfoy for taking so damn long to do it. She wanted to kill him for the things that he had said, but she also knew she'd want to kill him if he stopped kissing her in that slow, exquisitely thorough method. He hands came up to cup her shoulders for a moment, then slowly slid down, and she marvelled at how just that slight touch could send shivers through her.
Dammit, Draco thought to himself as he proceeded to kiss Granger for all he was worth. In the back of his mind he knew that this wasn't what one normally did with your enemies. But then again, he thought, most enemies probably did not have the chemistry that the two of them did. Just because she was a Mudblood, that didn't mean that he should have to deprive himself. And he couldn't help but get some satisfaction from knowing that he made Miss Hermione Granger, the pet of Hogwarts, moan in the back of her throat as she was doing now.
Hermione suddenly drew back and stared up at him. Her lips were darker than normal and swollen from the pressure of their kiss, and her eyes were wide.
"I hate you," she said slowly, simply.
He chuckled, running his hands down her arms to slip around her slender waist. "The feeling's mutual, Granger," he said. "I don't think either of this wants to feel this way - you're a fucking Mudblood, and I'm a Malfoy." he said.
Her eyes narrowed at the insult, but he spoke before she could say anything.
"But that doesn't stop me from feeling this way," and as he said this he pulled her close to him, so that she was flattened up against the length of his body. Her eyes darkened as she felt the evidence of his arousal pressed against her.
He bent over and brushed away the hair from the side of her neck, then proceeded to press a kiss to the soft spot beneath her ear. She shivered as he spoke again and his warm breath tickled her skin. "And I know that you feel the same way as I do," he said slowly, proceeding to trail his tongue along her neck from the base of her ear down to her collarbone.
"I don't understand...," she said, trailing off in a gasp as he nipped the sensitive skin on her neck gently, then soothed the spot with the wet heat of his tongue.
"Whats to understand?" he asked with amusement as he drew back. He grinned at her mockingly. "Sex doesn't take hate into consideration, Granger. Sex doesn't have to be about emotions...it can be simple, no strings attached. And if you want it, thats what you'll get."
For a moment Hermione stared up at him, unsure what to say. Part of her was bristling with indignation at what he had said, but the other part was longing to continue what they had begun. She was acutely aware of the way his body felt pressed up against hers. Her hands were still on his arms where she had put them when he had pulled her close, and underneath her fingertips she could feel the heat of his skin burning through his shirt, and the coiled tension of his muscles. He arched a brow as he looked down at her.
"Well?" he asked. "I'm not going to make this easy on you, Granger. I know that I could seduce you and have my way with that sexy little body of yours, but I'm not going to risk you running to anyone with some sob story about how I forced myself on you. If you want it," he said, staring deep into her eyes, "come and get it."
Hermione glared up at him, then shifted against him slightly, hoping that he would kiss her again, but he merely stepped back slightly, putting some space between their bodies. She muttered a curse under her breath, then reached up and pulled his head down to hers. As their tongues twined together the thought ran through her head that she would probably regret this later, but then as passion surged between them, the thought was swept away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later that night, Hermione lay on her bed, gazing off into the darkness. Her dormitory room was quiet, except for the soft sounds of Lavendar and Parvati breathing. She had been lucky, all her friends had been in bed when she had arrived back from detention.
She sighed softly. Her mind was in a daze. So many thoughts were swirling through her head...thoughts of what she had done, thoughts of what could happen now, thoughts of the past before this year.
She had always been Hermione Granger, the smart student. Grades had always been important to her, and she had always wanted to do well in school. When she had found out about Hogwarts, she had gone out at once and read as much as she could. The history of the old magical school had fascinated her, and as she read about all the wonderful and powerful wizards and witches that had graduated or worked within the school, she had promised herself that she would make her parents proud.
Until she had come to Hogwarts, her life had been normal... She had never really had any very close friends. Nobody had really hated her, but neither had they really liked her, either. Until she came to Hogwarts, and met Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.
They hadn't liked her at first - nor had she liked them. She had thought that neither of them took their place at Hogwarts seriously enough, and she had always wondered how Harry, being The Boy Who Lived, could seemingly take things so lightly. But then they had saved her from that awful troll, and ever since then they had been the best of friends.
And her life had changed irrevocably. So many things had happened since then. Ron and Harry had taught her so much about friendship, and about how there was more to life than textbooks and marks. School was important, yes, but it should never get in the way of friendship, when it came down to it.
On the opposite end of things was Draco Malfoy. She'd never been hated until she met him. She had never hated anyone until she met him, either.
And oh, did she hate him. He was so cocky and arrogant, obnoxious and rude, callous and unfeeling. She had seen him hurt so many people, and she knew that he didn't care one bit. He had always tried his best to make life miserable for Harry and Ron, and more than once she had found herself on the recieving end of his malicious comments.
And now here she was lying in her bed, recovering from what had been the most intense sexual experience of her life.
And it had been with Draco Malfoy.
Granted, she hadn't had that much experience. She and Viktor hadn't had a totally platonic relationship, but it hadn't gone anywhere near to what she had done with Malfoy.
And she wouldn't have wanted it to, either. Viktor was nice, she had enjoyed being with him. But to put things plain and simple, he didn't really turn her on.
Not the way that Malfoy did.
And oh, did he ever turn her on. Even now, when her whole body felt replete and satisfied, she found herself thinking about the way he had touched her all over. The way he had looked without his uniform on, and the way he had felt when he had been moving deep inside her. How could somebody that she hated so much, make her feel so good?
As this thought ran through her head, Hermione blushed and groaned.
What was she going to do?
She could try to just ignore Malfoy, but she had a sinking feeling that approach wouldn't bring her much success. She had detention with him for the next two weeks, for god sake!
She flinched as she found herself swearing. What was wrong with her? She had never had thoughts like this before.
She had never done anything like this before either. She had wanted to have more fun this year, yes. Wanted more experience, more of a social life. She had wanted to actually have something interesting happen to her that didn't involve Harry and the countless intrigues that surrounded her best friend.
But what the hell had she been thinking? A year ago she would have never done something like have sex with one of the other students of Hogwarts. And in the Library, no less!
And what were Harry and Ron going to think? If they ever found out that their best friend had had wild sex with Draco Malfoy - well, who knew what their reactions would be. They wouldn't be happy about it, thats for sure.
And there was the rest of the school too - wouldn't the Slytherin's just love it if they knew that Draco Malfoy had managed to get Hermione Granger? She knew that Draco's housemates detested her almost as much as he did.
And Gryffindor...what would her friends in Gryffindor think of her... or the professors...or her parents...or Hagrid...
She groaned and rolled over, burying her head in the welcoming softness of her pillow.
She could just die now and get it all over with, she thought drearily. For she knew there was no way she could possibly survive the next two weeks of detention with Malfoy, let alone the whole year.
What had she gotten herself into?
She closed her eyes, determined to get at least some sleep before the night was through. Tomorrow she had classes, and she had to be ready for those, no matter what was going on in her social life. She would think of something to get her away from Draco later. There was no way she was going to have sex with him again.
But before she drifted off into dreamland, one last thought floated through her mind.
Hate or not, she really wouldn't mind having another experience like that sometime soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In another part of Hogwarts, Draco lay on his back in his bed, unaware of the fact that he was staring off into space in much the same way as Hermione had been doing a few moments earlier.
His hands were laced behind his head and the covers were pulled up just far enough to reach his waist, leaving his chest bare. He shifted slightly on the bed and winced.
Who knew that Granger would be such a wildcat, he thought with amusement.
He'd had scratches before, of course. Some of the Slytherin girls, such as Pansy, seemed to delight in leaving their mark on him. Of course, knowing this he always healed them right away, much to their dismay. He rolled his eyes. Like he was going to let any of the little sluts actually have something to brag about.
But scratches from Hermione Granger? Practically priceles. He would definitely leave those to heal on their own. Just to remind him of what she was hiding beneath that prissy, good goody goody exterior of hers.
And her attitude in bed matched her body, he thought, his smile widening into a grin as he thought about the way she had looked, moving beneath him, pleasure written across her face.
The smile faded from his lips as he thought about the other consequences to what he done in the Library with Granger that night.
He was a Malfoy, after all. His father would definitely not approve of his son having sex with a Mudblood, especially a goody goody Gryffindor Mudblood who was friends with Harry Potter.
He sighed, and a bitter smile twisted his lips. He knew his father would never listen to him when he said that fucking Hermione Granger had just been the same as if he had got it on with any of the other girls at Hogwarts.
No, Lucius Malfoy would turn it into some big thing. The filthy Mudblood had seduced Draco, he'd insist. And that would mean that Draco was weak.
Malfoy's had to be strong, his father had always told him. They were their own people, and didn't take shit from anyone.
He had used to believe that, until he saw how his father bowed and scraped to Voldemort. His father was as much a fucking puppet to the Dark Lord as anyone, and it made Draco sick.
If Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord when he was only a sniveling baby, then obviously he wasn't such a great wizard after all, was he. Draco hadn't been able to believe it when he finally laid eyes on Potter. The way everyone talked about him, you would think that he was half god himself.
Draco snorted to himself. He doubted that gods had black hair that wouldn't stay put, or big green eyes that always looked slow and terrified behind those big glasses that Potter always wore.
Of course, he could never tell any of this to his father. Who knew how many hours of torture at the end of Lucius' wand such thoughts would earn him.
His hands, now down at his sides, clenched into fists.
Of course, he could never tell anyone what his father put him through. He was a Malfoy after all - Malfoy's didn't complain, they took what was coming to them and bore it. Unless it was outside the family. Then they waited, and plotted, and in the end got sweet revenge.
But revenge would never be an option for him, now would it, Draco thought. Lucius Malfoy had been Voldemort's little pet, and had weaseled his way back into that position with cunning now that the Dark Lord had returned.
But Draco was tired of being his father's little puppet. He wasn't going to give up great sex just because she was a mudblood. And besides, the satisfaction of knowing that he drove her wild was too sweet, and dammit if he was going to give that up either.
So for once in his life, Lucius Malfoy would just have to fuck off and leave his son alone.
Draco gritted his teeth and forced his mind away from thoughts of his father.
He stretched slightly and grinned as the pleasant aching sensation that came from good sex spread through his body. He could do with another round right now, actually. A chuckle escaped his lips as he pondered what Granger would do if he was to show up in her chambers right now. He could just imagine her face as she frantically tried to convince him to return to his own chambers before he woke up any of her room-mates.
A yawn escaped his lips despite of himself, and he rolled over, groaning as the sounds of Crabbe and Goyle's snoring filled his ears. They really did seem to get worse every year, and if it wasn't for his father, he'd have dropped the dumbasses a long time ago.
With a wave of his wand, which had been sitting on the bedside table, silence fell around his bed, and Draco began to drift off to sleep. As his body relaxed and his mind drifted, one last thought came to him.
Hate or not, he wouldn't mind having another experience like that, and the sooner, the better.