Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only play. I am not making any money off the writing of this fanfic.

WARNING: MATURE READERS ONLY.

Chapter 2

Madness

Ophelia Granger sighed, eyeing the plane tickets with regret. If only there was more time, she thought, frustrated and discouraged.

Hermione was sleeping on the adjoined bed close to the door of the double Ophelia couldn't. Every time she closed her eyes Draco Malfoy was there, dashing and imposing.

They came to Madrid together as it was requested by Hermione's boss, the current Minister for Magic. Sounds strange, isn't it? Magic… She thought so at first. Until she found out the truth about her cousin's nature and understood how exactly they were different. As a kid she was not allowed meetings with Uncle William, Hermione's father, and his family. Uncle William pulled away from their strictly traditional family circle when he was in his twenties. First, there was his rebellious idea to give up Business College for a medical degree, and then came an unexpected acquaintance with Hermione's mother, who soon became Mrs. William Granger, much to the utmost displeasure of Ophelia's grandfather, who still remained in good health, and as bad tempered.

Ophelia's elation to find out that she had a sister was squashed out of her in the root. But nothing could stop her from contacting Hermione when she enrolled in the boarding school in France. They had a vigorous correspondence and finally met in Paris a few weeks later. Ophelia was sixteen at that time, Hermione twenty-four and already married. Their friendship bloomed and it was only a matter of time the miraculous things surrounding Hermione and her strange husband got explained to the perplexed teenager who had just witnessed her two year old niece Rose elevate the toys in the room. 'Accidental magic', she was explained to by the happy parents; and thus Ophelia was introduced into the new world.

Apart from Hermione's family, Ophelia had never met wizarding people. Draco Malfoy was the first. And he was attracted to her. He stated thus in the lobby.

Ophelia bit her lip and eyed Hermione's bed warily. She was sleeping, or seemed so. Her heart pumping frantically in fear, she rose from the bed, grabbed her silk robe and tip toed out of the room. The door closed with the soft click, and Ophelia waited for a minute. No one chased after her, so it was safe to go. She found out the number of Draco's suite earlier that afternoon, and to her relief the elevator did not require a card swipe to reach his floor.

She stopped in front of his suite and did her best to compose herself before softly knocking on the door.

It swung open immediately, the darkness if the room sucking her in with a gentle pull.

Draco Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes. She was there, in front of his suite and was wearing what looked like a nighty, consisting of shorts and a snug T-shirt. For a moment his alcohol infused brain, refused to acknowledge the reality, but he came to his senses an instant later, cursing the damn wine which only spiked his feral desire to uphold the sweet dream and shag the shit out of her.

He didn't hesitate. He grasped her forearm and pulled the girl into the suite, before she changed her mind. Somehow he didn't worry about his standards at the moment. She looked sweet and kissable, no matter her dirty parentage. He knew he was going to enjoy her succumbing to pleasure.

He moved his hand on her waist and rubbed her lower back. She was so soft he could hardly resist his urge to taste her. He had to though. He wouldn't make it through another day in Madrid with a bone hard on. Not to mention the constant fantasies his mind was happy to provide during the board meetings, when Granger was tiring everyone with another particularly long speech.

Ophelia… The fragrance of her hair was about to drive him one notch close to madness. He was about to tear the clothes from her tempting body, when he noticed her frightened eyes. Merlin help him. He needed her. And he didn't want to deal with hesitancy.

"You know what you came for, right?" he asked huskily, squeezing her soft sides. She wasn't a thin girl, he noticed. She had just enough for him to play with, and he was eager to discover more of her curves.

"Yes," she whispered to his chest. "It's just… magic."

Magic?

For a moment Draco was lost, but then it dawned on him that he subconsciously used magic to pull her in as well as soundlessly shut the door. He considered it for a moment.

The girl was a muggle.

Could it be that she feared magic?

What did he know about muggles in the first place?

He decided to ask, before he ravaged her on the spot. The girl was playing with the button of his shirt and that simple action set his loins on fire.

"Are you afraid of me?"

Her cheeks pinked.

"No," she murmured. "Not of you."

"Magic then?"

"Yes."She admitted shyly.

"I won't hurt you," he stated resolutely, and pulled her to his chest. "Come to me, baby. Let me kiss you."

His lips seared her, branded her to his whim, shooting the lightning pleasure straight to her tummy. She gasped in his mouth and Draco's tongue immediately rushed forward, entrapping her in the seductive play of tongues. He tasted like wine and carried the cherry sweetness. She responded meekly – she was not a match for his passion - her hands gliding up and down his broad chest, exploring and enticing. If only she knew what she was doing to him.

Ophelia grasped his shoulders when he lifted her and carried her into the bedroom.

"Sweet girl…. Such a sweet girl… Let me look at you… Merlin you are beautiful."

He ravaged her month, tearing her clothes with growls and grunts, impatient to get to her dewy skin. She was magnificent, delicate in bone but delightfully round and full in his arms. He palmed her shapely breasts, enjoying their taste, loving the tiny mewls emitting from her sweet pouty mouth. He was dazed, he felt wild, his sanity hanging precociously over their heads and finally, finally coming down. He heard her cry, but was too far lost in fervor to see or hear anything at all through the vehemence of the burning sexual flame.

Ophelia leaned onto the tile in the shower stall, first time in her life not entirely enjoying the heated water. For once it wasn't soothing, but enhancing. She closed her eyes and let the water run down her flushed skin.

"So fucking tight. Fuck! Ah, yes… Here we go… Whimper for me darling."

She shuddered.

He breached her hymen without finesse or particular care, forcing her trembling body to accommodate him, ramming into her fisted muscles with the abandoned passion of a crazed one.

"Fuck! You are so good."

His lithe body was moving over hers in feverish dance, limbs intertwined, lips infused. She couldn't possibly imagine what it would take to satisfy the unleashed beast, till what lengths he would go.

Roughly he flipped her onto her tummy, his hands entangling itself into her hair, bending her leg to the side, pressing her into the soft bed and taking her again and again, until she begged, but it seemed only to fuel his desire.

"You will shave your pussy for me, sweetheart!" He demanded, biting her thighs and licking his way into her core. His hands grasped her hips, hot tongue lavishing the sensitive bud beneath. His eyes bored into hers, while she trashed and whined, her body raising itself in a tight bow, perky breasts taunting him into madness.

She lost consciousness afterwards, unadjusted to voluminous pleasure, and came to her senses, when he turned her back onto her tummy, his cool moistened fingers prodding impassionately the plucked hole of her rear. She struggled then, pushing backward on her arms, which made him chuckle, his chest pressing her back down, dirty whispers scolding her earlobe.

"Sweet girl… You are mine. Don't fight it… Don't fight me."

His fingers took their time, but eventually were replaced with his engorged cock, pushing in and nailing her into another humiliating submission.

He was intoxicated, she understood it a little too late for her own good.

Ophelia sighed. Her heavy lids fluttered open and she stared at the wet tile. Her body hummed from pleasure aftershocks and trembled from twitching pain in the nether regions.

She stepped out of the shower stall and hastily dressed. Tiptoeing through the bedroom, she eyed the sleeping man curiously.

He blacked out just after feasting on her body again, his head resting on her tummy, fingers still stuck in her clenching pussy, a promise on his puffy lips made her shudder again. "I will fuck you again in an hour. Your ass was a delicious reprieve. But it's no match for your pussy, although I wish you bald it. Will you do it for me, sweetheart?"

Ophelia's face burned in mortification as his words assaulted her conscience. His breath gushed over her tummy in hot wisps making her shiver. She laced her fingers through his silky strands and he purred rubbing his stubbed cheek over her sensitive skin. His hands squeezed her backside possessively, his breathing evened and Ophelia was shocked to realize that he fell asleep on top of her.

It took her time to disentangle from his grasp. She had to go, but she couldn't resist an urge to make her presence noted. She didn't want him to forget her.

Sadly Ophelia eyed a paper she left on the pillow. Would he contact her? She shook her head, braced herself and rushed out of the suite.

She signed two papers that night. The second one was a note for Hermione, informing her that she left with the first shuttle for the airport to catch her plane, but she would keep in touch.

As the bus shook softly, Ophelia pressed her head to the window, her fingers tightly clasped on her lap. She couldn't face neither of wondered though if he would remember her.

Draco rolled on his back and moaned. The splitting headache was killing him, hangover striking down and shackling him to bed. He needed the hangover potion, but he knew he couldn't make it to the nearest apothecary.

Merlin help him.

The pounding on the door of his suite brought him into another painful awareness.

"Malfoy! Open up!"

Granger. What would bring her to his room?

He stilled, his body instantly tensing. His head snapped to the side taking in the rumpled sheets, the droplets of blood and cum and his own disheveled state.

Shit.

He rose into a sitting position, rubbing his face and ruffling his tousled hair.

FUCK.

He was fucked.

The memory slipped in. Fuzzy and dreamy, it gave him a hint of the night's activities and he growled.

Finding his slacks, he stalked toward the door and wretched it open.

"Malfoy, I swear, if you don't bring your ass down in two minutes, I'll curse you into…"

"Where is your sister?" he asked harshly.

"What do you care?" Granger snapped. "She left!"

"Left?" his blood turned into ice. His lips hardly moved. "Why? Where to?"

"She left for school, Malfoy!" Granger raged, her anger a calm tide against his storming wrath. "Not that it's any of your business!" she continued. "Get your sorry ass downstairs. We are expected! You hear me, Malfoy? WE NEED TO BE AT THE…"

Draco slammed the door into her face and stalked back into the bedroom. She left him. She just left without a fucking word and he was enraged by her tactics. He grabbed the stained sheets and flung them onto the floor.

That little wench!

He stared at the offending sheets for a while, understanding creeping into his brain with unfamiliar reluctance.

Was she… Was there… blood?

He grabbed the sheets again examining three tiny spots diluted by his cum. He laughed, throwing them on the floor.

Well that was entertaining.

Draco Malfoy deflowered Granger's little sister. He felt his headache dissipating and his lips stretched into a sneer.

It seemed like little Miss Ophelia Granger bit on more than she could ever chew. He only had to find her now to prove it.