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She crossed a line again. Didn't just cross it actually, more so rocketed past it while flipping it two fingers and cursing its mother. But what's done is done. At least she dragged him down with her this time.
Hermione waited until his footsteps faded away to move, her body protesting in a delicious burn that sent her mind humming. She felt so well used, and more than a bit dirty. It should have been an unpleasant feeling but she couldn't really bring herself to be ashamed. She figured that if the sex had been more impersonal that might of done it. But it was because it had been so very personal that her body seemed to sing.
She resolved not to waste her precious moments of clarity tumbling over the consequences of tonight. The fog would be back soon and she could worry about it then. Besides, it's not as if there was anyone to judge her other than the two of them and she didn't care about his opinion on the matter. It's not like he could say anything anyway, no one would believe him.
With a sigh she sat up, taking stock of the damage. Some heavy duty glamour charms would be in order. She could see the bruises forming on her chest, the indents of his teeth already fading away.
The first thing she did was cast a secondary contraceptive charm. She hadn't exactly been expecting this and she didn't trust him. The delay would reduce the effectiveness but it just simply wouldn't do to have half blood children marring the precious Malfoy line. She rolled her eyes at her own ridiculousness.
The second thing she considered was her shirt. A quick reparo hemmed all the buttons and and scourgify cleaned off the sweat from her run. She frowned at her bra before immolating it as unsalvageable. The straps would never hold up right again. Not that her shoulders could really take the extra pressure with their new injuries. She ran a hand over the welts, smiling at the sting.
She slid on her shirt, considering the knickers a lost cause when she found them. She would never be able to look at them again anyway so they joined the bra as ash. The ridiculousness of burning her under things after fucking Draco Malfoy hit her in a wave and she couldn't help but giggle manically. She was wholly certain that there were much better examples of feminist empowerment than tonight. Not that it didn't please her immensely to see her effect on him. He may have left in a huff, but he was unable to hide the deep pitch of his voice or the way his breath shook. Contrary to what he thought, she knew she had won this round and the thoughts of it would plague him much longer than they would her.
Mindful of her tenderness she dampened the cloth and wiped her thighs clean, thankful for the warm water. With him gone she may be able to breath again but the absence of the suffocating heat left the room cold and empty.
She cleared her throat as she hopped off the desk, trying to ignore the hoarseness from over use. Her glamour charms failed twice before she caught sight of the glass of water. Her eyebrow quirked up as she stared at the door. Then again, she supposed he had as much to hide as she did. Harry and Ron had a tendency to hit first and question later but Ginny was the one you really wanted to watch out for.
With a few long cool sips she was able to cast passable glamour charms and decided she looked no worse for the wear other than some lightly bruised lips. She summoned some bruise-begone paste from her room as she straightened her skirt and gave herself a once over. The small tin arrived just in time for her to open the door, skipping into her hand lightly.
She swore as she opened the lid, finding just enough product left for her lips. It would have to do for now, she would write George in the morning for more. Suddenly feeling utterly awake, the idea of heading back to her Head Girl room was dreadfully pathetic and boring.
Instead she turned heel making her way back to Gryffindor tower. Maybe she wanted that drink after all.
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She woke in a familiar but not quite similar bed with a splitting headache. The sheets were reminiscent of Ginny's but the scent buried in the pillow was distinctly smokey. Almost like a peat moss and earth.
Did Lavender get a new boyfriend? Poor Ron. The two had been floating around each other all year but no one had made a move.
She winced, thinking of the nasty scars sliced across the girl's face. The image didn't sting as much as usual, instead accompanied by a flush of relief that her house mate was still alive. That was… a nice feeling.
She begrudgingly opened her eyes mentally preparing to suffer the good-natured teasing from her housemates for not being able to make it home. Hopefully she wouldn't snap at them too harshly. It was only as her eyes adjusted to the light she caught sight of Dean getting dressed at the next bed over.
"Ah!" She screamed, yanking the sheets against her fully clothed chest. "Dean! How did you get up here?"
"Well I was born, apparently stole some magic in utero then walked up these steps when I was eleven. Why?"
"But- But- but-"
She desperately tried to think of any reason he could have gotten past the stairs. The answer came to her a moment later, glaringly obvious as she looked around the eighth year boys dormitory. Dean was pulling on a weekend jumper and trying to dispel the static in his hair. Neville helpfully waved at her from his bed as he yawned. Ron and Harry plodded out of the bathroom in various stages of undress.
"Oh, dear god."
"Throw something on you fucking animals," Dean muttered as he dug through his trunk before handing her a purple vial. Hangover cure. Right.
Harry shrugged on his shirt as Ron pulled a pair of loose jeans over his boxers as he yawned.
"Nothing she hasn't seen before. You can't live in a tent that small for that long without seeing something you really don't want to."
That was true, and not the concerning thing. The concerning thing was that, judging from the trunks where they had removed the clothes, this wasn't either of their beds. With a groan she glanced at Dean handing out potions to all the inhabitants like they were candy.
"Erm…. Dean?"
"Yeah?" He questioned tiredly. "Make it snappy. I'm hungry."
"Whose bed am I in?"
"Uh…" The room froze, Neville choking on air as he muttered something about the greenhouse before fleeing. Dean looked at Ron who was pointedly fixing his tie and Harry who was attempting to brush his hair. With a wince he looked back at her.
"Seamus's."
Her eyebrow twitched and she focused on breathing through her nose. "And where is Seamus?"
He gestured with his thumb over to a thick rug by the fire place where Seamus still laid under a blanket still snoring. She let out a deep exhale, the anger flowing away from her. For the first time in a long time she didn't feel the desperate need to hold onto it like a lifeline. She glanced up to where Ron was watching her closely. He cleared his throat, apparently coming to the conclusion it was safe to proceed.
"Well... he was whining about it being his fault you left….when you reappeared you got too pissed to walk to your room so… he offered you his bed in apology. Nothing happened 'Mione. We were all right here." Dean nodded eagerly but Harry was still focused on his bed curtains playing with the golden tassel.
"And why? By chance," she questioned, her eyes not leaving Harry, "did I not just go to Ginny's room?"
Dean's bark of laughter turned into a cough as Ron frowned. His ears turned bright red and glared at Harry.
"Apparently it was occupied."
One moment, Harry was smiling innocently. The next he was taking the knockback hex from Ron that sent him flying into his bed. Hermione was laughing openly before she could stop herself, the commotion waking up Seamus who quickly ran to the bathroom to vomit.
"I'm glad you're back Hermione." Harry groaned as he sat up rubbing his chest. "But did it have to be just in time to remind Ron I am dating his sister."
The room fell into another round of laughter as Ron sputtered. Hermione joined in, the shaking heaves pulled from her as naturally as breathing. Alive. Love. Happiness. She had forgotten what it was like.
"Right well we should head down to breakfast. I doubt Seamus will be too mad about sleeping on the floor considering this has been the closest he's gotten to having a girl in his bed in eight years." Dean shot just as the Irishman in question emerged from the bathroom.
"Oi! Don't be a dick... Morning Hermione," he murmured lightly.
"Morning Seamus."
"Are we okay?" Seamus questioned in that perfectly blunt way he had.
"Yeah. We're okay."
She laughed lightly, taking the moment to shake out the sheets but winced as she stood.
"Careful there Granger. The Hangover cure takes a minute to kick in," Dean cautioned. Unaware of the cause, he helped to steady herself on sore legs. She smiled, not telling him her headache was already gone.
" I'll meet you all down there, I've got to borrow something from Ginny before I go."
"What are you borrowing?" Harry asked, as she left the room giving the boys time to finish up.
"Don't worry about it," she murmured. She pressed on down the stairs, just feeling blessed that her and Ginny were the same size.
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As it turns out she was blessed in general. The girls dormitory was empty when she cracked the door open. Her hair had come down during the night hiding the marks on her neck when the glamour faded but they wouldn't have gone unnoticed under Lavender's sharp eye. And Christ she had never been more grateful for her massive curls. She looked torn up. Deep purple and black marks circled her neck in a painfully obvious pattern. Honestly, the wounds from when Ron had been attacked by those brains didn't look that much better by comparison.
He had really done a number on her. The one on her chest was just as bad but could at least be hidden by the top button of her shirt. Hermione stole a baggy sweater to throw on over her uniform. She winced briefly at the extra weight on her shoulders before shaking them out. She sighed to the empty room, the mid morning sun warm and inviting on her skin. Right, she would not feel bad about this. Not until she lost herself again.
She also stole a pair of knickers, only feeling the slightest bit guilty. Ginny had stolen hers accidentally multiple times when she stayed at the Burrow, laundry being a bit of a chaotic mess at times. She resolved to take the path with the least amount of stairs as she headed to the common room. Harry and Ron opened the portrait as she appeared. They teased each other about last night, recalling their antics to a befuddled Hermione who barely remembered anything past her walk back to Gryffindor after…
She cleared her throat, disguising the motion by waving at Hannah Abbott as she walked by.
"It's nice to have you back Hermione," Ron quipped cheerfully. Shooting a deadly look at him as Harry elbowed him in the stomach. "Ow! What?"
Harry glanced back at her with a blush. "Not that it isn't usually nice to have you around. It's just…"
"You're so much more fun when you're happy." Ron finished. He dodged the second hit from a scowling Harry expertly.
"That's not-"
"No, he's right Harry," she finished for him, gracing a smug Ron with a smile. "Half the time I am comatose and the other half I am so angry I could light someone on fire. It's nice to be somewhere in the middle again."
"I agree." Ron nodded. "I don't know where you went last night or what you did but anything short of murder was worth it I'd say."
Hermione flinched remembered the way Malfoy's nails dragged down her chest and the punishing pace he set as he drove into her. A stretching soreness settled between her legs as she moved.. "Er…. I suppose."
"If you ever need help Hermione," Harry added. To his credit he only looked the least bit suspicious. A pretty deep improvement for him. "We will take care of it. Whatever you need."
"Yeah." Ron agreed. The redhead looked so like a sincere little puppy she had to bite her tongue. "Anything. Just ask."
She imagined their faces if she asked either Ron or Harry to hurt her like Malfoy had last night and it was enough to break her control. She was still laughing like a maniac when they entered the Great Hall, to the great relief of her fellow Gryffindors.
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Two days. It had been two days since he had seen her. He elected to avoid the dining hall all weekend and Monday as well, figuring if they were going to arrest him they could at least not do it in front of the entire student body. What in the actual fuck had he been thinking? Other than the fact that all female students should be forced to wear pants… not that it would have stopped him persay.
As soon the door shut, he ran straight back to his room and didn't come out. Dark magic left traces and it was fucking crystal clear that it had left dirty little fingerprints all over his soul. He hadn't intended to just... ruin her like that. He thought for sure she would have run like she had the last time.
She should have stopped him, that was the plan. But when he had been so lost in the heady arousal of control and power he found himself unable to back down and she suffered for it. He shouldn't feel guilty over the absolute bitch that was Hermione Granger. Not with the way she always walked around with her nose in the air like she was better than everyone. It was only right he prove to her she wasn't. She asked for it and it was her fucking fault in the first place. She could have stopped him at any point...Right?
The longer he thought about it the worse he felt. His mind tied itself up in a Gordian knot of opposing thoughts.
She asked for it. She didn't deserve it. She wanted it. He loathed her. He shouldn't feel guilty. So why did he?
It was only due to Theo physically dragging him to potions that Draco hadn't begged off sick. As it was he stared pointedly ahead, eyes glued to the board and his and Theo's cauldron. He refused to look back and see whatever pained look on her face. He refused to feel any more guilty for something she should have expected anyway.
They were making a day dreaming potion, and he was shaking so badly Theo had thrown him on the stirrer and left him there. That was until the sound of small explosions had him diving under his desk.
He was at least spared the embarrassment of being alone, with Theo beside him. Looking around the room he saw most of the class in various states of cover, awkwardly laughing off their reaction as beautifully bright fireworks exploded from Granger and Weasley's cauldron. Granger was standing with Girl Weasley, laughing as a burning caterpillar crawled along her skin before bursting upward into a blue butterfly in a rain of sparks.
"Brilliant! Just brilliant. Ten points to Gryffindor. Five for being the first and five for such a wonderful display." Slughorn cast a containment charm over the cauldron, siphoning the liquid into a variety of vials and handing one to each of the girls. "I think that warrants an afternoon off for you, get cleaned up and go enjoy your day dream girls."
Hermione smiled a heartbreakingly open smile, a starry firework zapping around in her hair before fizzling out. She was… fine. Not dazed, or afraid, or upset. Fine. That was...odd.
Slughorn turned to Weasley, tapping on the desk in front of her. "You Weasleys have a way with potions. I never taught the twins but I have seen some of their work and it's astounding! Nice to see it pop up again with you."
The fat idiot missed the way her head dropped, a curtain of red hiding her face.
Draco turned back to the potion, stirring twice as fast to account for the interruption when he heard it.
"Oh, Hermione," Weasley said. " You have some ink on your neck. Let me-"
"No!" Granger shouted.
The noise drew the attention of the room again, her hand blocking the other witches' wand. Draco stared at the smooth expanse of her throat, a slight purplish blue smudge dusting the skin and growing darker. The glitter of a fading glamour barely caught the light, covering his marks.
Why hadn't she healed them?
"Er. Sorry Gin." Hermione laughed awkwardly pulling her rat's nest of hair forward. "I still get jumpy…"
"No," Weasley said while shaking her head. "My fault. Let's head out yeah?"
She cleared her throat as she packed all their notes into her bag. Granger nodded and set out for the door, her hand pressed carefully to her neck and smiled. She fucking smiled, like she was proud of her little secret. Like he had spent the last two days wasting away for no reason.
Anger stoked in his chest. The idea that she would hide his marks sent an irrationally possessive wave through his body. Let alone the fact she was prancing around as if nothing had happened. His eyes followed her exit, even as his own cauldron pinged and started to echo with the sounds of the beach.
"Oh good show boys. The beach had always been a favorite-" Before Slughorn could continue Draco charmed the rest of the fluids into vials and quickly cleaned the cauldron. He was on his way to the door just as Theo's arm reached out to grab him.
"Where's the fire?" he questioned. Draco couldn't help the way his eyes swung over to the empty bench. They flicked back to Theo who's eyes softened pitifully as he jumped to his own conclusions about why Draco Malfoy would be upset that Hermione Granger had a wand pointed to her neck. The boy was basically a Hufflepuff.
"Ah well… it'll pass. Go take a breather, and try not to hex anyone."
Draco nodded and shot out of the classroom like a dart, ignoring Slughorn's calls that there was still an hour left. Theo would cover but right now he had an idiot, bushy-haired Gryffindor to find. He made it to the end of the hall before smacking straight into Ginny Weasley as she rounded the corner.
"Watch it Gingersnap," he hissed as he gathered his footing. He glanced behind her but Granger was nowhere to be seen.
"Watch yourself, ferret." She narrowed her eyes, far too perceptive for her own good. "What are you looking for?"
"No Granger today?" he questioned before he could think. The way the redhead bristled was sending him warning alarms but he was already in. He had to think of cover. "Is it safe for Saint Potter's girlfriend to be wandering around alone?"
"I am just fine, Malfoy," she responded sweetly. "But thank you so much for worrying."
He stepped around her waiting until he was at the corner to call over his shoulder. "I was talking about Granger but it's nice to hear you haven't given up hope." He dodged a nasty Bat-Bogey spell just as he rounded the corner, Weasley cursing as her spell splashed on the wall behind him.
With them separated that left two options. She could be going to her Head Girl room, which he couldn't beat her to. Or she was going to the library. He set off in the opposite direction from the still cursing Weasley with a long stride. The hallways were mostly empty but nothing drew attention like a running Malfoy.
After cutting through two courtyards and over a hedge that had Professor Sprout docking points, he slid into an alcove right outside of the library just as she rounded the corner. It was a long walk in which he should have talked himself out of it… but something about her just made his blood boil.
Even as she just moved through the halls she couldn't just exist, she had to be doing something to prove she was better than everyone else. Her wand scribbling a complex runic equation in the air. Or at least he thought it was Runes. It had numbers in it so he couldn't be sure. Just as she passed in front of him he reached out pulling on the sleeve of her robe and tugging her out of sight.
He spun her behind the winged statue pressing her against the wall even as she drew her wand to his neck. As terrifying as it was, the action sent a pleased little purr down his throat.
"Malfoy."
"Granger."
He nodded watching her face as she examined the area around them, her wand still tapping against his skin. Her soft breaths swept over his skin like an intoxicating balm. It had been all of three days but he was deeply distrubed to discover his body responding to the proximity of her. He blamed hormones.
"Can I help you?"
The haughtiness in her tone was enough to snap him out of it, reminding him why he had stormed out of potions. He leaned against her with a patented sneer as he crushed her against the wall. She let out a small whine, her eyes widening slightly. He silently cursed himself. It was so very dark to be turned on by the little pained noises she made. It certainly hadn't ever happened before.
"Granger," he spoke calmly, removing his hand from the wall and tracing her cheek and jaw line. "What in the fuck is this?"
Her eyes glazed lightly. Breath coming in short pants. It was getting harder for him to focus.
"What is what?"
He grabbed her chin and forced it to the side while he whispered a finite incantatem. She shivered as the glamour fell away, revealing dark purple splotches with healing green edges. He frowned slightly. It had been three days since he had fucked her. He didn't think he had bitten that hard. Something evil in his mind picked at him, making him feel proud, aroused, and disgusted at the same time.
His wand traced lightly over the painful looking bruise, the movement stuttered as she squeaked quietly. The sound did terrible things to his body as he grew hard against her stomach. He turned her face back to him, staring at her until she looked up.
Her gaze was lust filled as he watched her and it was like an answering call to his own irrational desires. In a precisely intentional move he pressed his thumb against the swollen skin. He hissed as she ground against him in response. The guilt eased in the face of her readiness. Who would have pegged Granger as the kinky one? His money had been on Girl Weasley. But he could work with this.
"Now. I went to all that hard work to give you what you wanted and you just hid it," he murmured, just centimeters from her lips. He lightly dragged his hand across her neck. "You're quite the ungrateful little chit."
"I...I…" She stammered over the words as he traced his tongue down her neck prodding at the angry tissue. Her hands spasmed against his chest twisting in the shirt fabric. The action drew a growl from him. He had thought the game was over, that he had won. But perhaps she was a more skilled opponent than he had first realized. "Didn't- Wan-."
He hummed against her skin, flicking open the first button of her blouse, relishing the way she flinched, her body rubbing against his.
"To- get- Caught- With-"
He nodded in mock understanding and pushed the fabric aside with his wand, eyeing the uncovered mark on her perky tit. His mouth was on her skin in the next moment, pulling a muted moan from her as she pressed her thighs together, his eyes never leaving her face. He didn't intend to spend his afternoon fucking Hermione Granger against a statue of Gryhorn the Great but suddenly it was on the top of the to-do list. Maybe multiple times if she kept making those sounds.
"With?" he questioned. His tongue slipping below the lacy fabric of her bra. He had broken the last one but this one was nicer anyway. She keened softly, biting her lip to hold in the sound.
"With bruises? Don't your friends know how you like it?" His mouth closed over her nipple, sucking her through the fabric and setting her spine ridged against him. His hand traced up her skirt, resting at the wetness leaking down her thighs with a spark of want. "Do they know you like to be thrown around? Chased down? Hurt?"
Merlin, he would screw her against the wall without holding back. Not even caring if some hapless first year happened across them. The thought sent a shiver up his spine.
"No."
She went ridged under his touch where he had previously been supple. He glanced up to meet her eyes, suddenly clear and angry. Oh, he loved that look too. That look was the stuff of wet dreams. She growled, a snarl pulling her perfect little lips. He didn't get a chance to use those last time. Something he would rectify today.
"With you," she bit out. Something in her tone caused him to freeze. He blinked slowly, watching her anger grow.
"Pardon?" He pulled his hand from the folds of her skirt, trying not to think about how damp his fingertips were.
"I said-" She shook him off, moving to stand to the side, her back to the exit and wand drawn. "I didn't want to get caught with you."
The lash stung more than he thought it would. Especially since it made perfect sense. He had no interest in anyone finding out about that little moment of weakness either. But she didn't need to make it so personal. Especially considering here they were, with his mouth on her three days later, and pinned to the wall.
"Oh." Was all he could manage through his wounded pride.
"Obviously," she added.
"Right."
"Because it would be asinine to-"
"I get it Granger. No need to clarify," he hissed.
He stepped away to lean back against the stone wings. He watched her cross her arms over her chest, that one button hanging dangerously open to reveal the damage he had done. She glanced up at him scoffing in disgust. She buttoned up her shirt and recast the glamour charms blindly. He scowled and watched the marks fade away.
"Don't look like a kicked puppy."
"You sure know how to bruise a man's ego," he commented.
"Your ego can take it. I believe your exact words were 'don't bother me again'," she responded. "As you can imagine that is a bit difficult when you are yanking me into alcoves to feel me up."
"Hardly."
He kept his voice level as he watched her. She was so nonchalant about it, so confident. Like he didn't even matter. That fucking stung. And he wanted her to sting too.
"It's just so much fun to see you squirm, how you get off on being violently used in an empty classroom by someone who hates your guts. What would your little proper friends think? I wonder how they would react if I told them. "
She flinched and he was barely able to force down the flutter of victory in his stomach. She took a deep breath pulling her arms back into a stretch, her chest pushing forward as she shook out her shoulders. It just occurred to him that she was probably still sore from when he slammed her into the wall. He didn't feel too bad about that now.
"I'm not ashamed of what I like, Malfoy. You aren't the first and you won't be the last," she responded calmly, checking her nails for invisible dirt. "You can't make me feel bad about this. Pick another target."
"Y-You-"
His mouth snapped shut rage broiling below the surface. He had absolutely no reason to be possessive or angry. None whatsoever... Well, at least she didn't have some Death Eater kink or something. Or maybe she had… fuck didn't Snape talk to her a bunch in fifth year? Oh Merlin, that was a horrifying thought.
"Well, if you are done sputtering like an idiot, can I go? I have a Transfiguration assignment I am dreadfully behind on." She gazed out into the hallway like they were just talking about the weather.
"And you're asking permission why?" he said, trying not to hiss. She looked at him oddly, her hip popped out and shirt riding up to slide her wand back into it's waistband. He regretted not bruising her there too.
"I want to make sure you won't drag me back in here the second I turn around." Her tone was annoying. Made worse by the fact he had already considered doing that. With a growl he pushed past her knocking her into the wall a bit as he did.
"Don't procrastinate on my account," he growled. "I wasn't the one whimpering against the wall."
"Can't make me feel bad about this Malfoy." she drawled in an oddly fetching tone and glided out after him. She swirled on her heel, the wind catching her skirt just a bit revealing the flash of something green as she walked away. He bit down on his cheek to keep from responding as she called over her shoulder. "I am who I am but I am also just fine without you."
He forced his feet to stomp down the hall with a feeling oddly similar to when she would beat him in a class when they were younger. The comparison did nothing to quiet the hot magma burning through his blood stream.
