My life is just a bunch of 'it seemed like a good idea at the time' moments. - Ron Weasley
Draco closed his eyes and shook his head. He wanted to shout at her, he didn't, as the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he propelled the chair backwards and gazed up at the blushing witch. He could have been wrong, it had happened once or twice in his lifetime. The best way to know would be to test the theory. There was no harm in that.
"Lower your dress." Draco Malfoy climbed out from beneath the desk and towered over Hermione.
"I don't want to." Hermione whimpered, but Draco wasn't listening to her words.
He was busy watching her hands glide over her flat stomach and draw down the top of her dress. He watched her as she unfastened her strapless bra. He watched her eyes widen in horror as she realised she had done exactly as he had asked.
"Lay on the desk," Draco demanded with fire in his eyes.
"Can't. Sticking Charm." Hermione easily quipped, but she stood regardless.
Her slinky sequined dress dropped to the floor and she stood completely bare before her partner. She frowned as her body was propelled forward and Draco was quick to fling the files from her desk. Hermione reclined and stared at the ceiling. Her words and actions were not compatible at the moment and it was frustrating beyond measure.
Draco unbuckled his trousers and let them fall to the floor without preamble. He stepped between her spread legs and tweaked a hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He liked the way Hermione's back arched, pushing her breasts toward him.
"I'm going to fuck you now." Draco breathed and watched her reaction. "The compulsion to bend to my commands will end afterwards."
He could have left her dangling there on the precipice of bliss, but he couldn't be purposely cruel to her, not again. He didn't wish to revert. Of course, the ring explained everything. The only logical deduction was that Hermione had touched it upon opening the box that wasn't meant for her. She had stroked the stones and there was longing in her heart. The blasted Malfoy ring was goblin forged and adjusted to the needs of the witch and absolutely explained everything.
It explained his inexplicable need to bend her over his knee. It explained his throbbing erection. It explained the lust he felt toward a woman he had fantasized shagging and he fervently hoped his wants would dissipate as well. Of course, it didn't explain his desires prior to the ring, but he wasn't going to dwell upon such things.
"What is happening, Malfoy?" Hermione covered her breasts with her hands, but such an action didn't stop Draco from falling to his knees and burying his face between her legs.
He licked, sucked, nibbled, and stroked until she was writhing. Draco wanted her to beg. He wanted to hear his given name fall from her plump lips as she begged him to fuck her. He wanted to watch her come undone because of his tongue and that's exactly what happened.
Hermione's head lolled from side to side and her hips twitched. Ron had never been one to engage in such acts, no matter if she was willing to pleasure him. It had been maddening, but she had grown used to being left unfulfilled.
"Draco, dear gods, please," Hermione whined as she rode the high, nearing the top, and then it was exploding around her while her limbs quaked in relief. "Wait…wait."
"Can't," Draco muttered.
"Please…wait." Hermione struggled to sit up and grasped his face in her hands.
"Granger—" Draco growled low and his fingers dug painfully into her supple hips.
"I don't—I don't know what's happening, but I feel it. I feel it. I don't want to stop but I can't—I can't do this now. No, that's not even accurate, I simply can't do this here ." Hermione waved her hand toward the Ministry office and Draco nodded begrudgingly.
He didn't gather their clothes or remove himself from between her thighs. Instead, he gripped his wand with one hand and held firmly to Hermione's waist with the other. Draco hissed between his clenched teeth as he felt the slick heat graze his hardened cock.
Hermione yelped, locked her arms around his neck, clinging tightly, just as they squeezed together in Apparition. She scrunched her eyes closed and willed her stomach to behave. She was never particularly fond of Apparition and Side-Along was so much worse.
"Better?" Draco Malfoy teased her, his hands firmly grasping her waist.
His darkened grey eyes were locked on her plump lips and they widened when her tongue flitted forward and moistened them. His entire body was humming with need. It was more than the magic of his ancestors. It was more than the bindings of some fucking ring. It was the realisation that he had wanted her all along and finally, finally, he accepted it.
"W-where are we?" Hermione squeaked nervously as Draco set her on the edge of the softest bed she'd ever touched.
"My flat, obviously." Draco towered over her and his closeness caused Hermione to retreat.
Hermione was achingly aware of her nudity and the predatory shine in the grey eyes staring down at her. She held her breath as he climbed up her body with feather light touches to her ribs and the expanse between her breasts.
"Your curiosity is going to be the end of you, kitten." Draco's tongue lapped the glaring white impression on Hermione's throat. "You've no idea what you've done."
Hermione's brows constricted, but he said nothing more. Instead, he was quite intent upon exploring the naked witch beneath him. His well-defined chest hovered over her breasts, teasing her as the ache between her thighs grew incredibly strong once more. It was a simple matter for their lips to touch and Hermione lost every thought she'd ever had.
She dragged her short fingernails down the sinewy lines of his slick back. Her hips involuntary flexed against the rigid length prodding her thigh, which caused Draco to release a guttural moan. He tweaked her nipple in retaliation while he suckled her throat. It was torture holding off and he couldn't any longer.
Draco eased his aching cock between her folds and sighed with relief. Her body welcomed him, stretching to accommodate his size. Hermione moaned loudly and hissed while Draco rocked into her. He withdrew just as slowly and teased her. He did enjoy teasing her. Hermione groaned when he was fully seated. She struggled with the pleasure, the pain, the acceptance, and hesitancy, all entwined together in confusion.
"So much for…waiting…until I'm married." Hermione muttered and Draco felt a pang of guilt for the barest hint of a moment.
"I was nearly certain you'd—I mean you were with Weasley," Draco sighed against her throat.
"I've done things, lots of things actually, except that one thing. Hmm yes, that's nice. It's irrational, I know I just wanted to hold onto it until," Hermione faltered, caught between pleasure and emotional upheaval.
"Kitten, there's no need to fret." Draco caressed her cheek with absolute tenderness and their eyes met while he lazily thrust into her. "You're a Malfoy now."
Draco sped his thrusts and gripped her hips, slamming her against him. She was tight, so unbelievably tight and it aided in his pleasure, and hers. He could feel her body tensing. He was certain Hermione could feel it as well, considering her brown eyes widened in surprise. He covered her mark with eager lips and felt his sharpened teeth pierce her flesh just before she clamped down on him.
Pinprick droplets of blood stung against his tongue and Draco paused. He'd read about this. He'd studied this extensively and yet when the moment came, nothing was as they said it would be. Their magic didn't entwine. It didn't fill the empty spaces between them. It didn't meld their souls into one and he was disappointed. Draco realised he wanted that, but for the moment, he was appeased by having her naked skin against his.
"What the hell does that mean?" Hermione's eyes rolled back and her skin felt hot as the waves of her pleasure rolled through her.
Draco suckled her breast and drew her legs around his waist. He held her arse in his hands as the sweat broke across his brow. He knew she was speaking, but the only thing he could hear was the slap of skin against skin until finally, finally, he groaned as he spilt into her.
"Not Weasley's ring, kitten." Draco collapsed on her breasts and immediately set to tease her rosy nipples with a practised hand.
"What? It wasn't Ron's? Then—" Hermione winced as he withdrew and nibbled her throat.
"Mother sent the Contract and the ring in an attempt to force my hand. She's pressing for a summer wedding and I baulked. If I was forced to hazard a guess, I'd say my mother and Weasley colluded in this conniving little push." Draco held up Hermione's left hand and kissed the back of it with a wink.
Hermione silently contemplated her nudity as well as his words. It was utterly unconscionable that Ron and Narcissa would plot together. Ron wouldn't do that to her. He cared about her and—
"Oh gods, he kept saying how well suited we were," she whispered as her world crashed down around her.
"Thanks for saving me from a lifetime of misery with Astoria Greengrass." Draco chuckled and caught her lips with his own, sucking lightly, "welcome to the family."
He wished he were drunk. He wished he were blindingly, ridiculously, stupid drunk. He wished he were deaf as long as he was in the process of wishing things. Deaf and drunk sounded like fucking nirvana, not that he believed in such things anyway.
"For the love of Merlin, shut the fuck up!" He bellowed through the wall, not that it helped, not that they listened.
The squabbling, the incessant squabbling was going to be the end of him, the end of them if they kept it up. There was nothing he hated more than a gaggle of birds complaining. The Aurors had been perfectly content at Grimmauld Place, but no, that wasn't good enough for the Parkinson Princess.
"McLaggen, you're being dramatic again," Nigel chortled happily from the safety of the doorjamb, ducking as a muscled arm swung in his direction.
"Someone needs to get Brown out of here before I forget I'm a wizard and strangle her." Cormac shoved his damp blond waves from his forehead and shoved his fingers in his ears to muffle the shrieks.
"Why are you here eh?"
Nigel Wolpert, Junior Auror, thoroughly enjoyed the madness. It broke up the boring humdrum of training scenarios and endless lectures on safety. While it wasn't exactly exciting protecting witches from the unknown, he did enjoy the view.
"You think I want to be here? You think I enjoy listening to their caterwauling? I'm here because I own the fucking building. I sublet it to a Squib and he's a nervous sort. He's monstrous but fairly gentle and the Ministry believed the women would be safer in Muggle London. I didn't ask fucking questions. I'm being compensated handsomely, but I didn't count on remaining behind while Potter and Smith did whatever the fuck it is they're doing."
Nigel shrugged and held his finger to his lips. The angry sniping and snarls seemed to have quieted, which was of the utmost relief to the two wizards. They knew they probably should have been concerned, the sudden quiet a glaring indication of something amiss. However, Cormac wasn't an Auror and secretly hoped they were all dead.
Neither man expected the scene before them. Blouses, skirts, shoes, and underthings were haphazardly tossed around the modest bedchamber. Three witches sat on narrow beds wrapped in fluffy towels eating chocolate frogs, of all things.
"I-I've never seen a naked witch," Nigel stammered, slightly hidden behind Cormac's larger form.
"You still haven't, but that could easily change if you stick around." Pansy licked her lips and winked saucily, her throaty laugh contagious as Nigel squirmed.
"I was fairly certain you were only interested in gingers, Parkinson." Ginny Weasley's lip curled in distaste while she glared at the brunette witch.
"Suppose you've never heard of a Glamour? McLaggen could be a lovely pretend Weasley," Pansy sighed with longing and even Cormac shifted uncomfortably beneath her penetrating stare.
"Now that Brown is gone, perhaps I can get a bit of sleep. Why don't you lot clear out? I'm absolutely knackered and I've really no interest in watching you flaunt your wares." Astoria Greengrass snarled and yanked the coverlet from the bottom of the bed, covered her towel-clad body, and flopped onto her side.
Ginny Weasley uncrossed her long legs, yanked a towel from her red tresses, and stood. She ignored Cormac in favour of the deliciously younger wizard. She brushed her pale palm across the front of his trousers as she squeezed between them and padded down the corridor.
She knew Nigel would follow her, felt his eyes focused on the swing of her bum. He was cute in a nervous, bumbling virgin sort of way, but she wasn't going to shag him. She'd tease him just enough for the poor wizard to spill in his trousers and that would be that.
It should be plenty of time for Pansy to manipulate Cormac into a shag. Godric knew she'd listened to Parkinson critique each of their guards with entirely too many details. Perhaps she could put her mouth to a use that didn't involve actually speaking.
"You used to date Harry Potter," Nigel breathed the moment they stepped foot into the sitting room.
Ginny rolled her eyes and sat on the settee, her bare legs curled, her towel gaping just as she intended. She flicked her dark red hair over her shoulder and licked her lips. It was fun to toy with Nigel. He was young and impressionable. He was completely captivated by her exposed skin, innocent as it was.
"I used to do lots of things with Harry Potter," she crooned. "I could tell you all about them if you like, for a price."
Nigel knew he was teetering on the edge of dereliction of duties, but when Ginny reclined on the settee he eagerly nodded his head. He would have gladly given all his galleons just to see that blasted towel fall to the floor. He hastily shoved his blond waves from his forehead and squirmed on the coffee table as he leant forward, excitement racing through his veins.
"What do you need?"
"There's a bottle of lotion on the side table near the window. I can't reach my back and could really use your assistance." Ginny smiled slow, knowing she had him.
While Nigel scrambled over his own feet, Ginny loosened her towel, adjusted it, and flipped onto her stomach. She folded her arms, propped her head on them, and waited. She knew he'd pepper her with questions and it made her feel powerful.
"W-where would you like me to start?" Nigel's voice shook as did his hands while he grappled with the strange Muggle bottle.
"It's really up to you. I'd suggest opening the towel first. Work your way up or down, it doesn't much matter either way."
Nigel gulped and hesitantly reached across her for the ragged edge. He slowly peeled open the towel and bit his lip. It was only a back, he knew that much, but her arse was near perfection. He sort of wanted to grasp it with both hands and squeeze, but he didn't.
He decided her shoulders were as good a place to start as any and spread the cool, white lotion across the sparse freckles. She sighed, which encouraged him. It was a massage, he could do that much. It was easy, despite the twitch of his cock in his trousers.
He jumped when his fingers grazed the sides of her pale breasts and she moaned. He wasn't expecting that, not one bit, he liked it quite a bit. He skimmed his fingers down her ribs and across the small of her back, avoiding the curve of her bum.
"Don't be afraid of my arse, Wolpert. Harry always started there and strangely never really progressed anywhere else."
"Really?"
Ginny hummed and slowly spread her closed legs while Nigel sensually touched her bum. She didn't mind his inexperience. In fact, she found it endearing, even when his hands squeezed her arse more than massaged.
"Well," Ginny moaned, "that's not entirely true. Sometimes, when he massaged my thighs, he'd touch me until I came. I quite liked that and afterwards, he'd shove his cock into me." Ginny squirmed beneath the firm hands that prodded her thighs to spread further and whimpered when nervous Nigel stroked across her sex.
She was thrilled. It hadn't taken him long to catch on and while his fumbling was unsure, the gentle touches made her toes curl. The shallow thrusts made her head spin and she gripped the arm of the settee as she pushed back against him, shuddering her release.
She didn't know when he had climbed up behind her, nor did she care. His weight on top of her was slightly uncomfortable, but she managed until his belt chafed against her skin. She grunted, feeling smothered as greedy hands were shoved beneath her to maul her flattened breasts.
"Roll over," he hissed and insistently tugged on her shoulders as he straddled her.
Ginny knew from experience it was easier to do as she was told. She didn't believe Nigel to be the abusive sort, but she'd encountered entirely too many in the past. She closed her eyes and listened to his belt strike the floor and tensed as his warm body was wedged between her thighs.
He'd given her an orgasm and her logic decreed the least she could do was allow him a shag. He'd earned it. It wasn't the first virginity she had taken and it wouldn't be the last. At least he had nice hands, she mused, while her nipples were tweaked and tugged.
She gasped in pleasure when his lips covered her rigid peaks, his teeth teasing them. She grasped his cock and eased it through her wet folds. He got the hint, just like she knew he would, and suddenly, she was exceedingly full of virginal cock.
Nigel grunted and thrust, harder than she expected, his hands still latched to her breasts. His blond hair was stuck to his forehead, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, while he muttered under his breath. He moaned, loud and long as he came. Ginny grimaced as he collapsed, thankful to be done with it.
Harry Potter hiccoughed and laughed as he fell out of the Floo. He crawled across the hardwood floor, knees thumping loudly, green eyes bleary. He swore he heard whispering, but that was ridiculous. It was entirely too late for visitors.
"You're drunk." Luna tapped her foot angrily and glared at the crumpled wizard at her feet.
"No, I'm Harry!" Harry tugged on Luna's sparkling purple skirt and rested his clammy face against her delectable thighs. "I-I'm also drunk, really, really drunk."
Luna patted Harry's head, highly amused by the obstinate dark hair that absolutely refused to lie flat. She missed him terribly, not that she would tell him. He was conflicted, as evidenced by the Nargles constantly circling his head and she refused to add to his tension.
"Luna, is that Harry?"
Ron ambled from Luna's kitchen, blue eyes squinting in the din as he munched a messy sandwich. Slivers of meat and cheese fell from thick slabs of bread and he attempted to catch them before they struck the ground. Instead, crumbs dangled from his gaping lips as Harry Potter crawled over to the fallen fare and licked it from the floor.
"Hey!" Harry shouted. "Hey, hey, hey Ron, uhm why are you here? Are you uh are you fucking my girlfriend because I'll kick your arse, not now cuz I can't like feel my legs, but where's my wand?"
"Cor, how much did you have to drink?" Ron shoved the last bits of his sandwich into his cheeks and hefted Harry to his feet.
"Loads, it was, it was great."
"Where's Lavender?" Ron grunted as he tossed Harry onto Luna's psychedelic sofa.
"Fuck who cares?" Harry belched, completely mesmerized by his waggling fingers. "She's the worst. Maybe, maybe there's a uh Chamber beneath the Ministry and and and a great sphinx ate her. That'd be awesome."
"Perhaps it would have been smarter to resist marrying her in the first place rather than wish for her death now." Luna angrily crossed her arms, but her temper didn't faze Harry in the least.
Harry trilled and bared his teeth as he yanked Luna onto his lap. Her tinkling laughter filled his ears and he held her just a bit tighter. He really wanted to drag her off to the bedroom, but he couldn't see straight, not to mention there was Ron.
"Marrying, yeah," he mumbled. "Mione's got a ring, stuck it on her finger. Sh-she said Ron did it but nope. Ron hates green because Slytherin, which is well sort of dumb, green is green and colours don't care about houses."
Luna locked eyes with Ron and straddled Harry's lap in a desperate attempt to distract him. The regal blonde witch stepped into the corridor, unseen by Harry since he was thoroughly focused on Luna's breasts. Ron ushered Narcissa to the Floo, feeling particularly giddy as far as his part in the subterfuge was concerned.
"Suffice it to say, our plan has worked perfectly thus far. Draco will be difficult but then again, so will Ms Granger. It will be most interesting to watch it all unfold, won't it, Mr Weasley?"
Narcissa averted her eyes from Harry's voraciously wandering hands in order to preserve Luna's waning modesty. She was fond of the eclectic witch, yet hadn't the slightest desire to see her nude. She also didn't wish to hear the sounds, the terrible sounds, but one could only step into the Floo so quickly.
Ron nodded quickly and watched Narcissa disappear into the green flames. He honestly couldn't believe it had worked. Hermione was known for her inquisitive nature. He was nearly positive she would have tracked him down and shouted at him before slipping a ring on her finger.
"Yes, just like that," Luna moaned.
Ron's head whipped to the settee, blue eyes nearly bulging from his head. He was really glad Luna's skirt was covering Harry's lap as it seemed Harry's slacks were bunched at his ankles. Ron gaped, unable to tear his eyes from the beautiful bouncing breasts.
He was a bit hungry still and well, they were bloody exhibitionists. It would have been rude to leave before the show was over, at least that's what Ron told himself as he opened a package of crisps and sat on the armchair.
He watched, hidden behind a potted plant and a doorjamb. The Weasley witch was a slag, everyone knew it. He recalled her young body, writhing and terrified beneath him, with a smile. It was one of his favourite memories.
She was conflicted, he could see it in her eyes when he shagged her. She was horrified by the basic mechanics of her own body and was probably humiliated by its responses, not that he cared. He loved the way her mouth gaped open in a silent scream, the begging, the pleading, the hysterical no's. It was a symphony to his ears and he couldn't wait for more.
He flicked his wand, whispering a spell. It was a little spell, barely noticeable, which really was perfect. The Weasley girl shuddered and he smiled, his hand gripping the front of his trousers to relieve the tension. The poor Wolpert boy would be none the wiser.
It was perfect. Everything was perfect. He nearly shuddered in ecstasy. They would pay. They would all pay. He couldn't wait to see their blood rain from the sky.