Author's Note: Attention readers, this chapter does contain some Dub-Con, so if that isn't your "thing", perhaps this fic isn't for you. Thank you everyone for your wonderful comments; I am overjoyed to see people enjoying my first story. Also, another very special thanks to the very beautiful and talented TheMourningMadam for being my Beta for this story, and one of my dearest friends. Enjoy!
Of Mishaps and Malfoy
Chapter 2
Hermione took in the beams along the ceiling of the hospital wing as she lay in the bed. Pulses ran through her body, the side effects of the potion. Being separated from Draco helped her focus.
Now if only she could get out of these damned bindings.
After one-to-many grabs at Draco, Madam Pomfrey had seen fit to bind her hands to the rungs in the headboard and her feet together at the end of the bed. At least she had taken the time to close the curtains so Hermione could maintain some semblance of dignity.
She could hear Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape talking in rapid, hushed whispers, but she could not make out what they were saying. Draco was somewhere in this room as well— she could feel him. The witch tried not to think about it, lest her thoughts get the best of her.
The curtains were pulled back with a snap and the flustered face of Madam Pomfrey appeared, along with the deep scowl of Professor Snape. "Well this is a fine mess the both of you have gotten yourselves in," she began, pursing her lips. "And I am afraid the Professor and I don't have the best of news."
"Ah yes the trivialities of youth," Professor Snape sneered, his tone completely devoid of sympathy. "It seems that, because the spill came from a poorly brewed potion, I am not able to give you the antidote."
"So…so we are stuck like this?" Hermione cried, eyes wide as she took in the implications.
"No silly girl," Madam Pomfrey lightly chastised. She took the time to adjust the pillow below Hermione's head. "Mr. Malfoy and yourself will simply have to wait for the symptoms to pass. Professor Snape and I are inclined to believe that this might last only two, maybe three days."
"Three days? But this is horrid!"
"Hush now and try your best to relax. I will come and check on you both later. We are going to go discuss this with the Headmaster and I will return with your dinner shortly thereafter." Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape took their leave after shuttering the curtains.
Hermione shifted awkwardly on the bed trying to find a comfortable position, but to no avail. Between her bound appendages and the heat radiating from head to toe, she could find no relief.
A loud crash startled her, followed by the quiet tapping of bare feet drawing closer and closer. "H..Hello?" Hermione whispered. Draco's face appeared abruptly as he peeked through her curtains, hair mussed by their previous encounter and his own struggles. "May I come in?" he whispered, his voice husky. She took in his appearance—he still seemed to be suffering as she was, but was far better at controlling it. She nodded her consent, afraid how her own voice might sound if she spoke.
He eased forward and sat at the edge of her bed. Taking in her current state of being bound, he consciously averted his eyes to his hands. "So they've told you then?" he inquired, examining his nails.
"Yes," Hermione whispered, becoming aware of his body, though there were inches between them.
Draco finally glanced up at her, emotions flickering across his face before it settled on that of want and hesitance. His hand grazed her side, barely touching, his eyes fluttering as she silently gasped. He shifted forward delicately, coming within inches of her face and he moved his hand to cup her face. "Hermione, look at me."
Her eyes drifted open; she hadn't noticed that they'd been closed until now. "Tell me you want to wait, that you wished this had never happened, and I'll return to my side of the room. We can pretend like this never happened, I'll pretend like it wasn't foolish of Snape to not bind me like you've been bound. We can go back to the way things were before and the next time we see each other will be days from now when we've fully recovered."
"I don't know. I-"
Draco leaned in closer to whisper in her ear, his hand dancing over her thigh once more. "Or tell me to end this. To help us both through this so we don't have to suffer for three damn days. I don't know what will happen after this, but-"
She silenced him with a kiss. Draco returned it enthusiastically as he lifted himself over her, placing his hands on either side of her head to balance. "Eager are we," he gently mocked, smirking as he took in her dazed smile.
"Fuck you, Malfoy."
"Ah ah," Draco jokingly reprimanded. He lifted his hand to firmly, yet carefully, grip her jaw. Using his grasp to tilt her head up, he whispered into her neck, "such language is unbefitting of a member of the Golden Trio." He followed his words with a firm nip.
Hermione fully intended to shoot back a biting retort, but instead the words "Draco, please," left her mouth with a rush of air.
Draco's lips froze against her neck, a groan leaving his mouth as he dropped his head to lean against her chest. His hips to pressed into her, and he was no longer oblivious to the ache in his groin. "If you talk to me like that, this will end very quickly, Granger."
"Well isn't that the point?" Doe eyes blinked up at him in confusion, her chest heaving with the effort of attempting to speak through the sensations racking her body.
He sat back for a minute, straddling her legs, his expression unsure as he considered the position they were currently in. "Granger, do you want this? As in, truly want this," he asked with a frown.
Hermione's expression mirrored his as she hesitantly countered his question with one of her own. "Well, do you?"
Rubbing his head, Draco's nimble fingers untied the restraints around her wrists. Carefully lowering her stiff arms, he answered, "I'd never force myself upon you if it isn't something you don't want. Like I said before, I can just leave you alone, and we can pretend this never happened. I may be a absolute arse sometimes, but I am not a complete bastard Hermione. Potion or not."
A vague answer. Her eyes took in his guarded expression, then glanced to where he had been subconsciously caressing her wrists. Impressions of the cloth Pomfrey had used to restrain her ran parallel to where she had been burned not but an hour earlier.
She'd never seen Draco like this—so commanding, yet desperate and unrestrained. Things had changed between them this year. Sure, he still had an attitude that could rival that of a hippogriff, but as she thought back to all their interactions since the start of term, she couldn't remember a single instance when he had directed a particularly biting comment her way.
"Let's not think too much on this now," Hermione responded with a blush, the heat still glaringly noticeable between her thighs. "We can help each other through this and then we will see what happens from there."
Draco let out a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin," he muttered before grabbing her hips to flip her over.
Because of the bindings still around her ankles, her legs twisted delicately underneath her. Her face fell into the pillow she had previously been resting on. He chuckled at her small squeak of surprise as he slid his hands up her thighs. With her upper body buried into the bed below and the fold of her legs causing her shapely arse to lift into the air, she made a particularly delicious sight. Unable to resist, he slid her skirt slowly up so it gathered around her waist, exposing her-
Sweet Salazar. "What's this? No knickers Granger? How scandalous."
Hermione turned her head to the side, a blush very visible on her cheeks. "Well, I'm sorry if my choice of undergarments isn't to your- "
Smack!
"Cheeky, cheeky. Do try your best to behave, Granger." He leaned over her to whisper in her ear, "Or not." He nipped at her neck, grasping her hips and grinding against her with his clothed erection.
"Too many clothes," she moaned. "More…please…"
"I've got it, sweetheart, don't worry," Draco whispered hoarsely, the heat affecting him as well. Wasting little time, he pulled open his shirt, barely buttoned from their previous tryst. His belt had been left on the table next to his bed, so he quickly unbuttoned his trousers. Hermione glanced over her shoulder just in time to see him pull out his delectably long, hard cock; she turned to bury her head into her pillow, her blush darkening, missing the way his long fingers wrapped around his length.
She couldn't contain a moan of pleasure as she felt him slide against her slick core. "Feel that? You're absolutely dripping, Granger," Draco growled.
Her back arched as she pressed back against him on reflex. "Don't tease," she breathed. His hands firmly gripped her hips as he slid into her into her, inch by inch. Hermione felt a delicious stretch as her body moved to accommodate him. By the time he was fully seated inside of her, she felt like he had filled out every corner of her insides.
They paused, overwhelmed with the sensation. Hermione felt electricity run down her spine when he slowly withdrew, before slamming back in, their flesh slapping deliciously against each other as their bodies joined once more. Draco's fingers dug into her skin, hard enough to leave bruises. She was too distracted by the overwhelming sensations to notice.
His hand slid from her hip, sensually gliding over her side before he palmed her breast. Hermione drew her hand between her thighs, stroking over the sensitive spot at the apex. Above her, a possessive growl caught at the back of Draco's throat. "Show me how you touch yourself, Granger. What you do when you're alone in your bed in Gryffindor Tower."" Their coupling was rough and intense; their bodies driven by instinct, fueled by the potion. Hermione's legs shook as she grew closer to her climax. She felt Draco's heated body, slick with sweat, mold against her, his hips stuttering as he grew closer to his own peak. As they came, Hermione collapsed with Draco draped over her prone form.
Riding out the quakes and tremors of her orgasm, she returned to her surroundings. Draco's muffled voice vibrated between her shoulder blades as he said, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm sorry."
Laughing at the overwhelming sense of relief she felt post-orgasm, she giggled out, "Sorry for what?"
"I didn't pull out," he hissed, a very un-Malfoy panic in his voice. She almost bucked Draco off as her body began to shake in full-blown, silent laughter. Draco frowned as he lifted himself up to look at her. She untwisted her body slightly so she was resting on her side. "I appreciate the concern," she chuckled, "But I'm on the potion."
Draco's eyes drifted to the ceiling as if thanking some secret deity, then sighed in relief. "Thank Merlin for that," he smirked. "I don't think the world could handle any miniature know-it-alls running around right now." He began redressing and adjusting his clothing.
Hermione twisted her body so she was once more laying on her back as she glanced at Draco with a frown now on her face. She adjusted her clothing in a self-conscious attempt to look decent. Feeling her penetrating gaze on him, Draco looked up. "What?"
"What does that mean? Does the idea truly repulse you?" she asked, anger tinting her voice.
"Don't put words in my mouth," Draco insisted, his voice deepening with intensity. "You and I both know the concept of children are preposterous at this moment in time."
Hermione's frown deepened in thought before her eyes grew wide as Draco moved to stand. "It's gone! The sensations! They're all gone!"
Draco looked at her with a guarded expression. "I guess there was a cure for the potion after all," he responded, his tone almost mournful.
An awkward silence spread between them, neither knowing what to say in the aftermath of such a heavy decision. Draco took slow steps towards her before sitting on the edge of her bed. She clumsily maneuvered herself into a sitting position, wrapping her arms around her legs. He gently reached out to move the hair that had fell in front of her face to behind her ear. "Tell me what's going inside that beautiful know-it-all head of yours."
Blushing at the subtle compliment, she mumbled, "So what now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well," she fidgeted, running her fingers nervously through her hair, "Do we just ignore this? I don't know how we can. I'm not saying we have to start anything, but to go back after what just happened seems impossible." She was met with a thoughtful pause as he reached down to untie her still restrained ankles from the end of the bed. He tossed the cloth aside before returning to his position beside her.
Draco lifted his hand to trace her bottom lip with his thumb. "Would it be so horrible?"
"What?" she questioned, leaning in to his touch.
"To start this anything you're referring to," he whispered. Her eyes drifted shut as she leaned in for a kiss, only to be met with a sudden gust of air.
Her eyes shot open to take in the furious expression of Professor Snape, his hand with a death grip around Draco's arm as they stood near the curtain. "I am completely bewildered by the lack of common sense from what I once regarded as the most intelligent students of your year."
Draco jerked his arm from his grasp, an affronted expression consuming his face. "Before you so quickly make your own deductions, Professor, yes we fucked. And yes, we are no longer feeling the effects of the potion."
Hermione buried her face in her hands in embarrassment at Draco's crassness, while Professor Snape chose to ignore Draco's choice of words in favor of reflecting upon this new information. "It's just as well. If you had paid any attention to the original assignment, you will recall that Compellere Liquidius, when made correctly, is a powerful potion meant to compel one to realize their innermost desires."
"So the mistake made when brewing the potion simply intensified the effects? We desired each other all along, and the mistake drove us to a yearning so strong we could only satiate it with coitus?" Draco spoke aloud, rationalizing the Professor's statement.
Hermione's head whipped back and forth, unsure what to do with all of this information at once. She'd been so distracted after her encounter with Ron, she had missed the entire part of Snape's lecture about the true purpose of Compellere Liquidius. And what was this casual atmosphere between Draco and Professor Snape? Who would openly talk about sex in front of a teacher as if they were discussing the weather? Her face scrunched up as she was brought back to the mandatory Magical Family Planning class all students had to sit through during their second year—a particularly mortifying segment of her academic career.
"Do be careful with this new information, Draco. I will tell Madam Pomfrey that her services are no longer required, but I do expect you both to return to your houses in a timely manner. Good evening Draco, Miss Granger," Snape concluded as he swept out of the Hospital Wing.
Draco chuckled as he took in Hermione's dumbfounded expression. "He's my godfather, Hermione. It is only natural that he somehow be involved in this, as he has been through all walks of my life."
Hermione nodded her head slightly, unable to associate the harsh Professor with a man who could possibly talk to his godson about such trivialities as youthful desires. He offered out his hand, inviting her to take it. Allowing him to pull her off the bed, Hermione draped her arms around his broad shoulders. "You have to admit, this is odd, especially for us."
"We will take things slow," he promised, holding her hips possessively. "I'd like to see where things go from here."
She sighed in relief before responding dryly, "As long as we don't have to tell Ronald anytime soon, I can handle that. I don't think I can allow a second potions accident to ruin my "know-it-all" reputation."
All Draco could do was throw his head back and laugh.
-END-