CHAPTER FIVE: KISS AND TELL
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland
Friday, October 31, 1997 – Sunday, November 2, 1997
Friday afternoon, during the normal lunch hour, Hermione met with the House Prefects and her fellow Head Boy, Ernie Macmillan, in the library to go through the duty roster for the next week, and to get the newest incident reports. As everyone munched on their sandwiches and crisps – a luxury allowed by Madam Pince only for these meetings – she couldn't help notice the excitement buzzing in the air. The annual Halloween feast and the subsequent House parties tonight were making everyone antsy; the twenty-four prefects (two from each of the four houses for fifth, sixth and seventh years) and the two Heads all tried to push through the session relatively quickly so preparations could be made for the fun to come.
It was simply amazing the amount of horrid gossip one could pick up from these meetings, though! Hermione had been privy to the last two years worth of scandalizing information about her fellow students, everything from the benign (pranks played on classmates, teachers, the ghosts and even house elves) to the ridiculous (drunken debaucheries and illegal dorm parties) to the potentially devastating (the breaking up of secret sexual liaisons, some of which had ended in hastily terminated pregnancies). She'd pretty much heard it all by now… which is why she'd felt so terrible naïve and woefully inadequate socially in comparison to the rest of her classmates. It seemed that even the most innocent of her colleagues had engaged in some sort of adult recreational activity. Heck, even Neville Longbottom had been caught snogging (with Luna Lovegood in a darkened corner of the East Wing, as it turned out)!
Well, now she had secrets of her own, too… She smiled in remembrance of Malfoy's light touches on her face and the warmth of his arms around her, and in remembered heat, she recalled his voice tempting her like a silken caress against her skin.
"You look lovely."
"I could kiss your mouth for hours."
"What do you like, Hermione?"
"Did you hear what I said?" Padma Patil snapped her fingers in front of Hermione's face.
Discomforted at being caught daydreaming like some First Year with a crush, Hermione cleared her throat and sharpened her attention on Padma, hoping the blush staining her cheeks would indicate that she was merely embarrassed at being caught not paying attention, and not because she'd been fantasizing doing more than just kissing with Draco Malfoy.
She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. Could you repeat that last part?"
Padma sighed. "I was wondering about the schedule for planning the Yule Ball? I'd like to make it to Hogsmeade at least once before December."
"Oh, about that…" Hermione cringed, knowing what she was about to say would make the others slightly upset. "The holiday dance has to be held on Saturday, December 20th this year, because everyone will be leaving the next morning for the Hogwarts Express to get home. That only leaves us seven Saturdays to get everything ready. We're going to have to meet right away if we want to get started on duties, and then every weekend after to make sure things are coming along as planned."
There were a few groans from the men in the group, but the majority of the ladies seemed rather excited about the prospect and were smiling gaily.
"Ernie and I would like everyone to meet with us in the Great Hall at nine o'clock this Sunday to discuss ideas. We'd like everyone to present possible themes for both the Yule Ball and Seventh Year's Final Graduation Ball, so get your thinking caps on," she instructed the group. "Let's make it something really spectacular."
"If that's all then," Ernie indicated that the meeting was adjourned with a wave of his hand towards the library's exit. "We'll see you all on Sunday, nine sharp. Enjoy the festivities tonight!"
People cheerfully started filing towards the door in twos and threes, many engaged in conversations about the House parties to come, others shoving the crusts of their lunch into their mouths hurriedly so they could rush off to their next classes before the one o'clock bell chimed. Luckily for Hermione, she had an extra hour free period before Transfiguration Lab started and could take her time.
She and Ernie left together, as usual, discussing ideas for the Yule's budget, but Hermione's mind wasn't fully engaged in the conversation. A part of her was already a million miles away, thinking about Malfoy's visit to come later that night.
At the nine o'clock hour, Draco knocked at her door, punctual once again. She turned the knob with a shaky hand and opened it, her heart pounding. This time, he was dressed in a dark blue silken shirt and medium grey slacks, but still looking his usual yummy self. She'd chosen to wear a pair of femininely alluring dark charcoal woolen slacks and a satiny green button-up shirt that tied at the waist.
"Slytherin green looks good on you," he commented with a smirk, and sauntered inside.
They went through the formalities – her offering him food and drink, him declining - and then she was standing in front of the fire, being pulled into his embrace. "Happy Halloween," he breathed against her ear, snuggling her close.
His cologne drew her in so she pressed her nose to his neck and inhaled deeply. "Good Samhain," she greeted back, nuzzling against him, enjoying the feel of the soft fabric of his collar against her cheek.
They held each other for a few minutes, and then he pulled back and looked at her. His fingers brushed a stray hair up and over her ear, tucking it back. "Your messy hair used to drive me crazy, you know," he admitted, pulling along the side and bringing a flouncing curl forward with two fingers, twirling it around and around lazily.
Hermione smiled playfully. "Used to?"
Draco let the curl go and glanced at her again. "Used to."
They shared a knowing grin.
"You ready for the next lesson?" he asked, drawing her back against him. Instantly, her heart began racing again, and she nodded, unable to form a coherent reply with him looking at her with such hunger. His free hand came up and cupped her jaw gently, tilting her lips up towards his. "Lesson two," he breathed against her face, "learning how to kiss properly. Very, very important. Follow my lead."
He leaned in and her eyelids fluttered shut of their own volition, and there was a moment when she felt like she was in free fall, and then his lips touched down on hers. It was a chaste kiss, a small pull of softness really, and Hermione felt her heart melt at the sweet reverence of his mouth's touch. Once, twice, three times, and then he tilted away slightly. She breathed a little sigh of pleasure, and he answered with a groan of pure desire.
When he dove back in, his mouth wasn't as innocent as before. This time, he opened her up by applying light pressure to her bottom jaw with his hand and the kiss deepened, blooming into something beautiful and carnal, and they both gasped at the sensation. His lips played at different rhythms and pressures, teaching her with every touch what made a kiss good. First there was nipping and teasing, then there was hot slathering across one another, then back to gentle nibbling. Over and over, he repeated the lesson patiently until she caught on – which didn't take long. Hermione was nothing if not a quick study, and her imagination had been honed from years of reading and daydreaming. When she began kissing him back with a small degree of skill and a whole lot of enthusiasm, Draco moaned and seemed to lose a slight measure of control. His hands plunged into her messy, curly hair ruthlessly, and he pulled her towards him, forcing her body closer, molding them together. Her arms wrapped around his waist, and she slid them up and down over his back, all the way up to his neck and down to his buttocks and back.
They attacked each other's mouths ferociously, both seduced by the intensity of the feelings, neither one wanting to stop. It was at least twenty minutes later when Draco finally pulled them both up for air. He stared down at her hungrily, but for a split second, she also caught a strange vulnerability reflected in his winter grey orbs, as if he was both amazed and enamored by the kissing they'd just shared. It was gone as soon as he blinked, but she was positive she'd seen it. Then, that smirk was back on his face and the arrogant, pleased expression took over.
"Not bad for your first attempt," he teased.
She rolled her eyes and shook her head, amused, moving away from him. "Was it at least an 'Exceeds Expectations,' Mr. Wizard?"
He laughed, playing along. "I'm not really sure. We're going to have to try it again before I can grade you appropriately, Miss Granger."
Hermione raised an eyebrow at the challenge, and felt rather frisky and daring right at that moment to boot, so she grabbed Draco's arms and pushed him down onto the couch, then straddled him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Pay attention this time, Professor," she teased. "I want to be evaluated fairly." With that, she leaned in and kissed him exactly as he'd taught her, starting with the chaste kiss and ending with nips on his lower lip. She pulled back only a few centimeters to look him in the eye. "Well?"
She caught the devilish glint only a split second before she was flipped onto her back on the small couch and he was leaning over her. "Hmmm... An 'Acceptable' level, Miss Granger, but there's definitely something missing…"
With that, he leaned back in and his mouth boldly teased her once more, hot and erotic and she felt her knickers dampen in response. Then, unexpectedly, his tongue probed its way around her lips and into her mouth. Ahh, so this was what they called a "Frenchy," she thought, and settled back to enjoy the sensation of Draco's tongue softly, insistently sweeping through her mouth, tangling with her own, and then darting back out quickly. He repeated the action again and again until she caught on, and hesitantly attempted to mimic him. It was then that she realized that kissing really was an art form in and of its self. She copied his movements with each new facet learned until she perfected the techniques, and finally, when she put it all together, she had the skills to fashion her very own magnum opus.
Her tongue began by tempting his with gentle tastings, and then when he boldly eased forward into her mouth, she clashed with him fiercely. When he pulled back once more, she flicked out to tickle and tease, coaxing him to open back up for her, to come out to play. When he did, she rewarded him by running her tongue over the roof of his mouth, sweeping past his teeth, and then finally twining around his tongue, pulling gently until they parted reluctantly. A final small, chaste kiss on his lips ended the session, and she opened her eyes and let him go.
When he opened his eyes to look down on her, that strange vulnerability was back, and it made something in her heart clench to look upon it. She reached up and feathered his cheek with her fingertips. "Was that okay?" she asked hesitantly.
He didn't say anything at first; merely kept running his hands over her hair and face, touching her affectionately. Then he opened his mouth.
"Definitely an 'E'."
She smiled, but raised an eyebrow at him. "Not an 'O'?"
He chuckled, and laid his forehead against hers. "Keep working at it and I'm sure you'll get there."
They practiced and practiced and practiced together. True to his word, Draco could kiss her for hours. He switched techniques continually, one minute his lips soft and tender, making her feel adored and feminine, and then the next hard and demanding, making her vibrantly, sexually alive. She began to wonder if there wasn't something to him being a Gemini after all.
"You taste like apples," he murmured at one point when they'd pulled back from each other. "I love how you taste." He nipped at her lips as he talked, the fingers of one hand twining in her curly hair as it fanned out on the cushion under her, the other stroking her cheek. "I want more, Hermione. Let yourself go with me. Give me your all."
Throwing all her reservations to the wind, she obeyed, tightening her hands on his shoulders, drawing him in as if she wanted to crawl into his very skin, kissing him with all of the feelings that she had been trying so hard for months to repress. It started out demanding, almost punishing, as if she was angry with him for making her want him so much, and then he simply surrendered to her, stopped battling back, letting his mouth gentle, and she automatically softened her lips in response, giving him all of the new feelings she'd been fostering for him over the past few days. Her hands moved to cradle his face as her tongue cherished him in the same way his had done to her. She widened her legs and bent her knees and he fell easily into the crux between her thighs, and she felt his erection through his pants prominently shoved against her most sacred part roughly by the unconscious maneuvering. She twined her calves around his, capturing them both equally in the shared lock. Take me, she silently begged him with her mouth and hands and straining body. I want you to have all of me. I want to be yours.
"Yes," he growled as he pulled back slightly. "Granger… don't stop. More."
As Hermione continued to yield to Draco willingly, she knew then that she was starting to fall for him. And just as she knew the truth of her feelings, she also knew that she was helpless to stop them. This moment had been in the making for a long time, perhaps even before this summer she realized.
To be completely honest with herself, she'd admired the courage Malfoy had shown during the war, respected him for his strength and tenacity, was challenged by his intellect and deviousness, and even a touch envious of his openness and candor. She found him to be physically ideal, too: handsome and powerful. Overall, Malfoy was the perfect recipe for passion – something she desperately needed to shake up her bookish, proper, organized life.
But these feelings she had for him were disastrous.
She knew herself well enough to know that she wasn't one to take anything sexual lightly. This type of sharing with another person… every touch, every taste, and every longing look caused her to give away a part of her heart. It was why she'd shied away from doing this sort of thing for the last few years with anyone. And yet here she was, surrendering to Draco Malfoy, the most notorious heartbreaker in school.
Their arrangement was for the physical only, not the emotional, she reminded herself. He had agreed to teach her the pleasures of the body, not of the soul. The reality was that this thing between them was short-term, only to last eight and a half weeks, and by the end of it, she would be a real woman, no longer a virginal schoolgirl, and he would move on to the next conquest, and they would probably not be friends, no matter her desire to remain so. That was the agreement. So, she'd have to just hold her growing love for Draco in check; hide it from him as best as she could.
She tried to rid herself of the sorrow that crept into her chest by pushing it into him through their joined mouths, by letting him know in those kisses that she wanted him - even knowing that in the end, he was going to break her heart open and leave her wounded and bleeding.
Godric, help her for being a fool!
They spent the rest of the night and into the early morning kissing, until her lips were so puffy and sore that she was sure not even lip balm would soothe them. When they were finally too tired to keep going, he lay down behind her, spooning against her body and caressed her hair until she fell asleep in the safety and warmth of his arms.
He left to return to his dorm by six a.m., sneaking through the corridors to avoid detection again, and Hermione dragged herself off of the couch and over to her bed. She slept until the early afternoon, dreaming of orange embers in the fireplace and Draco's soft lips upon her skin.
Teddy couldn't help but noticed Draco and Hermione's absence from breakfast that Saturday morning. Had they spent the night together? The thought brought a sharp pain to his heart, followed by burning jealousy and then the customary guilt. Just try to forget about her, he coached himself for the umpteenth time. She's Drake's now. You have no right to feel anything but happy for them.
Even telling himself that didn't make the hurt go away, though.
Some days, like now, he felt like the most wretched creature alive.
"Morning," Blaise greeted him and came to sit across from him. "Didn't see you at any of the parties last night."
That's because I was huddling under my covers in my bed, sweating from the chills and fever that came on unexpectedly last night after dinner, he thought bitterly, but bit back the truth, knowing that it wouldn't do for a Slytherin to let anyone know his weaknesses. "Didn't feel like partying. Went to bed early."
Blaise looked at him circumspectly. "You okay, mate?"
No, of course I'm not. I'm dying. "Fine."
The dark skinned man narrowed his eyes in disbelief. "You don't look okay. You're paler than Drake."
Teddy shrugged noncommittally and lied again. "I had a headache all night. It's still hanging on, and I didn't get much sleep because of it."
Seeming to accept the plausible explanation, Blaise reached for a crumpet from the middle of the table. "Go see Corner. He's better stocked against headache-hangover remedies than Pomfrey. He charges a galleon for the help, but that's only so he can resupply."
Teddy sipped from his tea and internally snorted. "Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks."
Zabini looked around. "You see Malfoy this morning?"
Teddy shook his head. "Nope. Probably recovering from last night's… romp."
Blaise made a tsking noise. "I didn't see him at any of the House parties either. Must be chasing a new skirt. Wonder who it is this time?" He looked at Teddy meaningfully, but if there was one thing Teddy didn't do, it was gossip. He kept his mouth shut, and his eyes and ears open, like a good Slytherin was supposed to do. Apparently, Blaise still hadn't learned that lesson yet, despite all his years living in viper central.
Teddy shrugged again, faking ignorance. "Who knows with him?"
"Yeah," Zabini agreed, and stood up. "Well, if you see him, tell him I need to talk to him."
So not going to happen. Teddy knew what Blaise was all about, and the last thing he planned to contribute to was the verbal destruction of Granger's reputation at the biting mouths of his fellow Housemates. All Draco had to do was insinuate something inappropriate going on with the Head Girl to Blaise and she'd be socially ruined within an hour. No way was he going to let that happen. "Sure thing," he fibbed and turned back to his tea as Zabini walked back over to his end of the table to sit with Parkinson.
Logically, Teddy knew that he couldn't keep the tongues from wagging for too long, especially if Drake and Hermione decided to go public, but what little he could do to protect her, he would. A man in love had no other choice.
Granger finally put in an appearance at dinner time. Draco, Teddy noted, had as well. Neither had shown up at lunch after skipping breakfast entirely. Apparently, it had been a very long night for the both of them… Across the hall, the two new lovebirds traded a look, and Teddy's suspicions were confirmed.
Before he could register his feelings about that, however, he caught sight of Blaise on the other side of Draco watching their blond friend and Granger exchange recognitions, his mind putting two and two together quickly.
Shit.
Without realizing what he was doing, Teddy crossed the expanse of the dining hall quickly and moved down the aisle between Gryffindor's table and the outer wall, making a beeline right for Granger. As he approached, Ginny, who was facing him as she turned towards Hermione to talk, brought her friend's attention to him. Turning about on the bench, Hermione's bright smile made his breath catch for a second.
"Hey there!" she enthusiastically welcomed him. "Have a seat?" she indicated the empty space next to her.
Carefully watching his own table from his peripheral vision, he accepted the invitation with a polite nod. "Thank you." He sat rather close to Hermione, picked up a piece of garlic bread and began nibbling on it like it was the most natural thing in the world to do, and that he was in the most comfortable location to be at that particular moment. "Did you know that there's been… interest… in what the Crowned Prince has secretly been up to lately? You'd think people normally wouldn't wonder what a Muggle-loving royal does with his spare time, right?" he asked her casually, hoping she caught on to his hidden meaning. Granger was known to be a brilliant deductor of facts, but could she parse out his coded message? He turned and speared her with a look. "Still, those Italian press vultures – what are they called – paparazzi? Still, those types, they're everywhere, watching all the time, always looking for a way to ruin the Prince. Sad, don't you think? There's just no privacy for the rich and famous anymore."
He chewed a hunk out of the bread and simply watched her, willing her to surmise the inference. It took less than half a minute, but then her eyes shot to his in concern. He swallowed the mouthful of food and nodded, realizing she had figured out his meaning finally.
She licked her lips nervously. "It's a good thing… the Prince… has at least one loyal… guard… to watch out for him," she muttered, carefully choosing her words so as to not give anything away.
Teddy agreed. "Hmmm, yes. Lucky fellow, huh?" He finished off the bread and stood, throwing her a friendly smile. "Anyway, I'm finding Muggle Studies to be a fascinating subject, Granger. Thanks for turning me on to it." With that double entendre, he turned on his heel and made his way back to his own plate.
As he sat back down, from his corner vision, he saw Blaise frown, apparently confused. Good, let the guy think that any earlier assumptions he had held about Malfoy and Granger were now suspect of being incorrect. At least it would throw off Zabini long enough for Drake to wake up to the fact that either he needed to be more discreet, or for his friend and Granger to go public.
"Blaise knows to keep his mouth shut," Draco argued after Teddy explained his suspicions to him. They were standing in the bell tower above the Entrance Hall after dinner, whispering, despite the Muffliato spell Teddy had cast earlier over the space.
"Maybe, but can Parkinson?" Teddy asked, throwing his friend a telling look.
Draco blinked twice before realizing what had been implied. "When did they start seeing each other? And how come I didn't fucking notice?"
Teddy shook his head in amazement. "The night of the welcoming party for the newly sorted Slytherins, and you didn't notice because you've been too fixated on Granger to pay attention to anything else all term."
Draco ran a hand through his bangs, pushing them off his face. "Shit."
Teddy nodded. "Exactly."
There was silence between them as Teddy waited for his friend to decide what he planned to do. Pacing back and forth in the small space, Drake started fiddling with his wand, twirling it between the fingers of his right hand nimbly. "I don't think Granger will want to go public yet."
Teddy raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that? She seems quite sweet on you."
Draco shook his head. "It's barely been a week, and we've only seen each other twice officially. She's still adjusting to the idea of us getting together. Being forced to explain what's going on with me to Potter or Weasley - much less the whole bloody school - before she's ready… No, she won't like that."
"Then you'll have to be more prudent in your public carryings-on," Teddy advised.
His friend nodded. "I'll have to talk to her about it right away." Draco turned to him, sincere gratitude lining his facial features. "Thanks for the heads up, bro. I owe you one."
Teddy shrugged and shook his head. "No, you don't."
Draco carefully studied him for ten long seconds, and then nodded and strode away, presumably to find Granger and explain things to her. Teddy stayed up in the cold tower after the sound of his best friend's footsteps faded. He leaned over the iron wrought railing and looked out over the main entry courtyard below. There would be frost tonight; the scent and feel of an Arctic wind was on the air. Winter was going to come earlier again this year. Maybe next week they'd see their first snow.
Feeling the familiar ache in his bones and joints, Teddy reached into his inner robes pocket and pulled out a vial of restorative. Breaking the wax with his thumbnail and pulling the stopper, he chugged the foul smelling, dark red concoction. It tasted little better then it smelled – like chalk mixed with blood. He gagged as it hit the back of his throat, but managed to keep his stomach from rebelling. The slight tremors – side effects of the philter - began soon after, but tapered off in less than three or four minutes. Re-stoppering the vial, he replaced it inside his robes with a mental note to return it to Madam Pomfrey tomorrow for a refill.
At least tonight he would be able to get some much needed rest, as a sleeping draught awaited him once he returned to his room. He'd put it inside his trunk this afternoon after going to see the Medi-witch about his god-awful experience the night before.
If he had to be completely honest with himself, Teddy knew that he was still really embittered that for all the Wizarding world's long years of medical knowledge, nothing could be done to save him this time. He could fight the painful effects of his illness with some restoratives, and anti-nausea and sleeping potions, but there was no cure for what he had.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Nott, but your magic is eating you from the inside out. We've consulted all of our experts here at St. Mungo's and at our sister hospitals abroad and this is the best we can offer…"
Sure, they could save a wizard from petrification, stab wounds, misaligned limbs, and jellified bones, but not from the magical equivalent of aggressive Leukemia. His body was literally destroying his immune system slowly, the out of sync magical energies resonating within his wizard's core disrupting the creation of red blood cells while simultaneously overproducing white blood cells. Irreversible. He'd be dead in less than a year. Both Wizard and Muggle doctors had told him the same thing. And it wouldn't be a good way to die, either.
Thanks, dad, you sick bastard. May you rot in hell.
If only his father hadn't experimented on him so often as a kid, throwing random Dark Curses on him and strapping him down and forcing untried concoctions down his throat – all in an effort to document the effects for when Voldemort made his "grand return" (like the elder Nott was some sort of fucking Josef Mengele aspirant) - this never would have happened.
At least his father had gotten his in the end. Teddy had made sure of that.
He sighed. Yeah, he should definitely take Snape up on his offer for weekly therapy talks. Apparently, he was still really angry with the unalterable fate that awaited him. And since suicide was now off the table with her in the picture...
Prior to Granger shoving her way into his heart, Teddy could have cared less how he left the world, but now he wanted to spend every second he could near her, even if she couldn't be his. For a moment, he allowed himself to prod the precious memories he held of her; of the sunlight on her hair, of her innocent, sleeping face, of her laughter. He calmed perceptively.
Hermione may belong to Drake, but Teddy would be there to keep an eye on her, too. And once he won their bet, he'd get his favor from her. And then, maybe, his soul could find some real rest. That hope was the only thing keeping him upright and moving at the moment.
While heading up the stairs towards the fifth floor, Draco stopped half way up the flight and peeked through the archway down the fourth floor hallway to spy a familiar, curly head going into the library. Backing down the stairs, he followed Hermione's destination.
The one thing Draco never knew until that moment was that the weekend after a holiday created a dead space in the library. Not even Madam Pince was in attendance; probably still with the other staff members enjoying an after dinner cordial and dessert. If he'd even have guessed this was the case, he'd have gotten laid in here at some point during his Hogwarts career.
Heck, if he was really lucky, he still might… This was Granger's favorite hangout in the entirety of the castle, after all.
With that thought flitting through his mind, he quietly stalked past the empty aisles until he found her sitting at a desk in the back corner. She was reading by candlelight, studying on a Saturday night. He almost laughed. Then he remembered how lucky he was that she wasn't out with some other bloke and was suddenly very thankful that she was the honest, hardworking type.
"Hey," he spoke softly, not wanting to spook her.
She only jolted a bit, closing her book quickly. When she recognized him, a genuine smile melted across her face and Draco felt his heart catch. "Hi."
"Sorry to interrupt," he excused, waving a hand at her book and bag.
She shook her head nervously. "You didn't." She shook her head. "You don't." She looked down briefly, smiling at how foolish she knew she sounded. "Um… Join me?"
He lifted a chair from a nearby desk and brought it down next to hers and sat. "We need to talk," he began seriously.
Instantly, her smile faded and she frowned. "Oh… I see. Well… Um, I can't say this wasn't completely unexpected."
Draco blinked, confused. "What?"
She bit her lip. "You want to stop seeing me, I take it."
Was she daft?
"No. What makes you think that?"
Hermione seemed truly surprised. "But… usually a person only caveats a conversation with 'we need to talk' when they intend on dumping the other party."
Draco ran his hands through his bangs in unexpected frustration. "Woman, do you have a screw loose or something? There's no way I'm breaking things off with you."
He hadn't even realized what he'd said until her face lit up like the sun. Her perfectly white smile was so bright it hurt to look at. "Oh, well, then… that's… good. Because I don't want to either. Stop seeing you, that is."
With a deep sigh (and feeling incredibly foolish), Draco took her hands off the book she'd protectively pulled to her chest and set it down on the desk. He then took her hands in his and leaned forward, looking down at her small, delicate fingers. "I like what we're doing, Hermione. I don't want to stop. But if you decide you don't want to do this anymore with me, I want you to tell it to me straight." He looked up at her earnestly. "And no waiting for the right time. Just say it, okay?"
She nodded. "You, too?"
He sealed the promise with a kiss to the back of her fingertips. "Okay."
They stared at each other across the half meter, and Draco was lost in her dark, honest eyes once more. He reached out and with an insistent tug drew her off her chair to straddle him, then wrapped his arms around her waist, looking up at her as she now sat over him slightly. "Kiss me, Granger. I want to taste you again."
Her hands moved up his arms, around his shoulders, winding themselves about him as she pressed her lips down on his tenderly. Very quickly, the kiss burst into something hot and desperate, and they were clinging to each other as if they were both drowning, their hands greedy and grasping, and their moans echoing each other. Her fingers ran through his baby-fine hair, grabbing hold tight, just as his did to her curls. They ate at each other's mouths in raw, frantic hunger.
Draco stood abruptly, his body moving on its own. Holding her about his waist with one arm, he shoved her books and bag off the desk with the other, then propped her bottom on the flat, wooden surface and pushed her over onto her back. He rode her down, his hands cradling her head to prevent her from bumping hard, nudging himself in between her legs. When she was finally horizontal, his right hand snaked out and began roaming over her casual knit sweater even as he continued to kiss her madly. He felt Hermione up over her clothes, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to touch her bare skin. He wanted to know how that felt.
His hand dove under her sweater, and followed a trail from her waist up over her abdomen, his fingers caressing the flat plane of her stomach, dipping playfully into her bellybutton, then moving up to cup the bottom of her breast through her cotton and lace brassiere. Hermione gasped under him and arched into his palm, her hips accidentally grinding against his pelvis at the same time, driving him incensed with want. He pushed the fabric of her bra up and felt her freed breast for the first time with his fingertips. It was of medium size – a B cup, fit into his palm nicely, and reacted to him perfectly, the nipple becoming erect the second his flesh brushed against it. They both moaned at the feel. Gods, her skin was so soft!
He stroked around her areola in slow circles with his index finger as his mouth and tongue continued to both entice and be seduced. He could feel her heart slamming against his palm and knew her desire for him was genuine. When he flicked, then pinched her nipple, she cried out, jolted upwards so her shoulders were off the table and grabbed onto him fiercely. She bit his bottom lip, then moved to his neck and lightly bit him over his pulse point. He gasped then growled, loving the feel of her being so out of control.
He came to his senses seconds before he was about to unclasp her bra. Taking a deep breath and pushing her back down flat against the desk, he drew away from her, panting hard. "Granger, we need to stop now," he cautioned softly in her ear, and moved to disentangle the death lock she maintained around his neck.
Slowly, she released him, her eyes glazed over with passion, her lips and cheeks scarlet. "Why?" she whispered, and that was almost his undoing. He closed his eyes to the surge of lust that roared through him.
"Because you wanted to take it slow," he reminded them both. "And losing your virginity on a table in the library in a hurried rush would be something you'd regret." He grinned teasingly. "I'd forever be remembered as that heartless Malfoy bastard who fucked you all wrong your first time."
Common sense bled back into her dazed expression suddenly. "You're… right… of course. I'm sorry… sorry for pushing you, Draco."
He dropped his forehead down on top of hers, looking at her through the fringe of his hair and lashes. "Granger, you have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who followed you in here." He kissed the tip of her nose. "My fault. Sorry."
Her brows dropped in questioning. "Why did you come here anyway?"
He sighed. Time to get serious again. He stood up and pulled her with him until she was back on her feet. She began readjusting her bra under her sweater, and he tried really hard not to look, afraid of a repeat pounce that wouldn't stop this time.
"I need to know: how public do you want us to be, Granger?"
Brilliant witch that she was, Hermione understood immediately. "This has to do with Teddy's warning. Someone from Slytherin intends on finding out who you're seeing so they can spread the gossip around, right?"
Draco looked at her seriously. "Listen, Granger, I have no problems whatsoever with anyone knowing about us. I don't have any doubts about our deal." He moved away slightly, putting space between them, just in case things got ugly suddenly. He didn't know which way she would go on this issue, so he was preparing himself for the worst. "But I think you don't feel the same way. Am I right?"
She surprised him utterly when she shook her head negatively. "I had a feeling this issue might come up, so I've actually had time to think about it since last week." She reached over and took his hands. "No, I don't mind it if everyone knows, Draco. I'm not ashamed of us." She stepped back into his personal space. "I've spent years worrying about other people's impressions of me, but you know what? People are going to believe whatever it is they're predisposed to think anyway. I can't change their minds, and I shouldn't allow them to change mine either. We're adults now, not kids anymore, and the war is over. We're free to be whomever we wish. It's time to stop worrying about things that are out of our control. So, to fly with what anyone else thinks. Either they'll understand or they won't." On tiptoe, she reached up and kissed him gently on the lips. "I've given myself permission to have you for these eight weeks, Draco Malfoy. And I don't regret our deal either."
Dumbfounded was the best word to describe how he felt at that moment. This was the last thing he'd expected. He'd expected her to cry and deny him, to explain away her embarrassment at being his – what was she exactly, a friend with benefits? His girlfriend? - as being too difficult to rectify with the prejudices of her goody-good friends and family. The extremely cynical side of his personality had even expected them to call it all off tonight. Instead, he was getting exactly what he wanted: Hermione Granger with no strings attached and no emotional baggage to ruin the trip.
He really was the luckiest bastard on the planet, wasn't he?
With a smile of relief, he reached up and cupped her cheek. "So, it's okay if people see us together talking, touching, or kissing?"
Hermione nodded. "I wouldn't mind."
"Good," he approved, and then he laid a huge kiss on her to seal the deal.
CHAPTER SIX: DAYDREAM BELIEVER
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland
Monday, November 3, 1997
Monday morning would forever be remembered in the hallowed halls of the school as the day a miracle occurred: a Slytherin and a Gryffindor "came out" together. Hermione was half convinced the story might even appear in Hogwarts: A History someday.
She was sitting at breakfast, talking with Harry, Ron, Lavender and Ginny when she felt the aura of an outside presence at her side. Looking up, she was surprised to see Draco standing over her. "Got a minute, Granger?" he asked with a mischievous smirk on his face. Deep in her gut, somehow Hermione knew that she was looking at trouble immediately. She excused herself from her friends, all of whom were watching Malfoy a little warily, but who didn't seem inclined to protest his presence quite yet, and she followed him around to the top of Gryffindor's table near the front of the room.
"Hey," he greeted her, that same troublemaking smile on his face. "I wondered if we could test a theory I have?"
She internally sighed, knowing what Malfoy was about even before he opened his mouth. Still, she was curious to hear what he'd come up with as a ruse to get her to kiss him publicly, so she silently stared up at him and waited for the punch line.
He crossed his arms and sat back on his heels with that patented, infuriating arrogance plastered all over his face, looking down his nose at her. "See, my theory is this: I think Gryffindor's infamous courage is all a sham. I think your House bravery is highly over exaggerated, and that it won't hold up under intense scrutiny." He faux buffed his nails on his chest and appeared to be inspecting them as he continued on with his pitch. "Of course, I'll need to test that hypothesis before I publish it. It wouldn't do to have my brilliant finding later retracted by some puffed up editor." He glanced over at her with a challenge in his winter grey eyes that was hard to ignore. "So, I've come to you for help, Granger. You see, you're absolutely vital for my research, as you're the only Gryffindor female I'd consider a worthy test partner. I figure that's something you can appreciate." He grinned conceitedly. "So, what do you say? In the name of scientific discovery, can I count on you to help me prove or disprove my theory, Granger?"
Con job or not, such a level of sheer, clever audacity was hard not to admire. She had to give it up to Draco for being such a sneaky bastard. He was most definitely a snake through and through.
And she was a lion.
"My advise to you, Malfoy, is to put your money where your mouth is," she growled, and without a second thought, she grabbed the lapels of his robes rather abruptly, pulled him towards her, leaned up on tiptoe and kissed him somewhat aggressively in front of everyone.
To say the entire room went instantly quiet would be an understatement. You could have dropped a quill and heard the feather hit the floor – it was that silent.
Hermione felt her cheeks aflame with blood and heat. Gads, was she – proper, reserved Hermione Granger - really doing this in front of the whole school? Yes, apparently, she was… and… and… well, bully for her! She wouldn't let other people's opinions scare her anymore! She wanted this! Besides, she intended on proving Draco's "theory" was utter trash. Gryffindors were bold and valorous, and she was 'Red and Gold' to the core. She held onto that conviction to see her through the awkward moment.
When Draco's arms came around her and he leaned into the kiss with fire and passion of his own, the tense silence suddenly erupted into a cacophony of noise. There were gasps of surprise, some shouts of outrage, but there was also a lot of whistling, clapping and urgings on by her fellow classmates – especially the boys. Apparently, the idea of "Team D-H" wasn't necessarily unexpected… which said a lot about how much things had changed since the war had ended.
When he finally pulled away, he stared down at her with something akin to admiration. "Fiery and plucky," he murmured. "Guess my theory's down the loo, huh?"
She grinned haughtily. "Flushed out to sea, I'm afraid."
He laughed and bent back down for a second go and she slid her arms up around his neck and melted against him, unconcerned with the onlookers anymore, barely hearing the cheers that egged them on.
Hermione floated on air as Draco joined her at Gryffindor's table a few minutes later. When he intentionally sat himself directly across from Harry, though, her smile dropped, and she began to worry that someone would end up having to call Madam Pomfrey over before long.
To her surprise, her best friend took a few moments to simply stare at Malfoy, then at her. His green eyes were piercing, considering, mulling, but she held up under the scrutiny. Then, Harry merely nodded at Draco and turned to Ginny and kept talking as if nothing were amiss. Although the two had never been friends, and their enmity was infamous, the war had also altered Harry's feelings about his bitterest rival apparently, too. It was thanks to Draco, in fact, that they'd gotten any information at all about the last two Horcruxes – Nagini and Harry, himself. Without that intelligence, the Order never would have been able to formulate the plan that saw them on the offense against Voldemort, who'd been holed up in the Riddle's ancestral home. Perhaps having put himself at great personal risk to stop the Dark Lord had been enough to erase all negative feelings on Harry's side for Malfoy. It certainly seemed that way.
Ron, however, was another matter entirely. He loathed Draco more than Harry ever had. The reasons where never completely elucidated, since Malfoy had always shot equal amounts of venom at her ginger-haired friend as he had at Harry. She suspected it had something to do with them both being from Pureblood families, but she could never quite put her finger on the exact reason.
"Hermione, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Ron demanded in a vicious hiss, his eyes narrowed and hateful at Draco.
As calmly as possible, she stared off against her ex-boyfriend. "What does it look like I'm doing, Ronald?"
His jaw ticked in righteous fury. "You can't be serious."
She raised a challenging eyebrow at him, her anger starting to stir in her breast. "I am. So, what of it?"
Ron was struggling to control the outburst behind his face. Next to him, Lavender took his arm, her face not only concerned, but clearly more than a little upset that her boyfriend would be this angry about an ex-girlfriend. Hermione felt a little sorry for her housemate, even though they didn't get on.
"But… he's… it's… Malfoy!" he sneered.
Peeved that Ron would behave with such vehemence, Hermione grit her teeth. "That's right, he's Draco Malfoy. Again, I ask you: what of it?"
To his credit, Draco said nothing, knowing this was her fight. He simply stared across the distance at Ron and smirked in amusement. Knowing this was not making things easier, she reached over and took her – was he her boyfriend now? – her guy's hand and squeezed it to let him know that he wasn't helping any. His eyes slid her way and he gave her a raised eyebrow over the same smirk. She rolled her eyes, knowing she wasn't going to be able to change him. Draco was a rascal at heart, and oh, how he loved to get Ronald Weasley's wand in a knot.
She turned back to her friend, taking that tone she reserved especially for him when he was behaving like a total prat. "Really, Ron, even though we're best friends, I would never assume to dictate to you the particulars of your private life. At least show me the same courtesy."
Ron pointed an accusing finger across the table at Malfoy, whose smirk became positively evil in response. "This git only cares about only one person, Hermione: himself. You know that. You're settin' yourself up for hurt."
She sighed and shrugged nonchalantly. "Then that's my business, isn't it? And I would appreciate it if you would refrain from insulting Draco, especially in my presence. Furthermore, I don't need you to protect me. I've always been quite adept at taking care of myself - and others - in case it escaped your notice, Ronald."
Her inference was not lost on her ex-, who had been saved more than once by Hermione's quick thinking. He blanched and his lips tightened into a firm scowl, and he appeared as if he wanted to argue some more. It was Harry, however, who finally put a stop to the bickering by placing a hand on their red-headed friend's extended arm and pushing it down gently, but firmly. "'Mione's right, Ron. She's not a kid anymore. She's more than capable of handling her own affairs."
She turned to her dark haired best friend with gratitude. "Thank you, Harry. At least someone here seems to understand the concept of trust."
"It's not really you I have a problem trusting, Hermione," Ron grumbled, but backed off, dropping his arm down, and leaning back into Lavender, much to the blonde girl's obvious relief.
There was a long, pregnant pause between them all before Ginny broke the spell. "Well, I don't know about you smocks, but I've got class to get to." She gathered up her satchel onto her shoulder and stood. "Walk me to class, Harry?" she asked, holding her hand out for her boyfriend to take. He seemed happy to be leaving the scene of trouble, and gathered his things quickly, gripping Ginny's hand in his firmly. Hermione gave him a thankful smile on his way past, and he returned it with a nod.
Next to her, Draco reached for a scone before standing to leave as well. "I left my bag at my table," he explained to her, then bent at the waist and pressed a kiss on her cheek. "Wait up. I'll walk with you."
She nodded and he strutted off back to his vacated spot at Slytherin's table. When he got there, she noted that he was instantly glommed onto by Blaise and Pansy, each taking an arm and dragging him down to the bench where they assaulted him for information openly. Hermione turned back to her plate to finish up her last few bites of pancakes. She waited for Ron to say something, but he wisely kept his mouth shut, probably at the silent urging of his girlfriend at his side. Finally, Lavender stood and dragged him up with her.
"Well… see you later, Hermione," she stated, clutching her book bag to her side and tugging Ron off after her. He grunted some sort of a 'see you' before leaving, which was at least a marginal step in the right direction.
She'd just finished the last of her breakfast and was swallowing when Draco rejoined her. He held a hand out for her to take, which she did, and he pulled her up. He then reached past her and grabbed her bag from her left shoulder, and swung it over his own to lie atop his dark green leather satchel. Possessively, he gripped her hand and together they walked out of the Great Hall, making their way down into the dungeons.
As they walked in a comfortable silence, Hermione slid her glance over to the tall blond at her side. Draco continually amazed her with the gimmicks he pulled, especially this term, but truthfully, she rather liked that unpredictable outrageousness as it shook her neatly ordered world up a bit (which was exactly what she'd been secretly craving since the end of the war). What had happened a few minutes ago in the dining hall… well, that was yet another example of how much fun she could have with Malfoy. In fact, this agreement was turning out to be one of the best things she'd ever done.
Thinking back on their shared public kiss made her blush. That outlandish spontaneity would most definitely rank up there amongst her most lunatic moments. Surely things couldn't get any wilder than what they'd just done!
If only she'd known how wrong she was…
Draco partnered with Hermione in Potions Lab, and together they made a Chuffing Draught that was worthy of Slughorn's praise. Across the table from them, Teddy nodded in congratulations, and then received his own noteworthy admiration from their Professor for his and Seamus' combined efforts. The four of them were released early from class, tasked to take the vials of the draught up to Madam Pomfrey for her use once they'd cleaned up their prospective messes.
After making their deliveries to the Medi-Witch, Seamus headed off back to Gryffindor's Common Room. Teddy stuck around all the way back to the stairwell. "I'm going to study," his best friend commented almost off-hand. "I have some reading I'd like to get ahead on." He threw a rather odd glance at Granger then, almost a challenge of sorts, and with a 'see you later' over his shoulder, his long legs strode rapidly ahead of them and he started climbing the stone stairs up a level to the library.
Next to him, Hermione sighed. "I really should study as well." She slipped her hand out of Draco's, and reached out to remove her bag from his shoulder.
"You're always studying, Granger," Draco shot back, and stepped back out of her reach. "We've got two and a half hours until the next class." He took her hand once more and started walking up the stairs to the fifth floor.
"Where are we going? What are you doing?" she asked, suddenly concerned, struggling to keep up with his longer stride.
Yes, what was he doing? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that the kiss they'd shared this morning in the dining hall and their little interlude at the library on Saturday had enflamed him, and made him crave more of her. They got to her bedroom door and he pushed her against the wall rougher than he'd wanted to and kissed her hard. Within seconds, her arms were gripping him tightly back. He pulled his head away with just enough sense to make his demand. "Open the door, Granger."
She did, and they fell upon each other as soon as the solid oak panel shut behind him. Dropping their bags almost simultaneously, he backed her to the couch and they flopped down onto it. He pressed her back into the cushions and kissed her until they were both insensible.
After more than half an hour, they finally broke apart and he braced himself on his arms, looking down at her. The room was dimly lit from the small curtained window near the bed, and half her face was cast in shadow. Still, even in the semi-darkness, he could see that her eyes were imploring him for more. He'd wanted to wait, but…
Sitting up, he pulled her with him, then knelt by the couch and removed her shoes and then his own. He took his customary seat leaning against the couch's high-backed arm and snuggled her into his preferred position between his legs, her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms about her and pressed his nose into her neck and inhaled his favorite scent in the whole world. "You drive me barmy, woman," he told her, nuzzling her ear and breathing hotly upon her neck. "I can't get enough of you."
She tilted her neck, giving him access. "No one's ever told me that before," she admitted shyly. "It feels nice… to know I'm wanted like that."
He scoffed, and looked at her over her shoulder. "Serious? Not even Krum, McLaggen or Weasley?" He'd listed off her three previously known beaus, assuming that was the entirety of the list (she'd hinted at being grossly inexperienced in the greenhouse, but everyone in school knew of at least the three men she'd "dated" once upon a time).
She shook her head. "I only went to the Yule Ball with Viktor. We never went out after that. Honestly, he was nice, but… there wasn't enough chemistry there on my side. I was mostly flattered that someone of his reputation was interested in me at all." She sighed. "McLaggen… that leech. I took him to Slughorn's Christmas party last year only to get a rise out of Ron, but it didn't work. And I spent the whole night dodging my date because he couldn't keep his bloody hands to himself. When he graduated in June I wanted to cheer from the highest arm in the yard. The man is vile." She bit her lip, and then dove ahead with the last of her gentlemen interests. "And Ron… Everyone kept telling me how good we would be as a couple, but the reality was that we weren't good together. We only went out for a couple of weeks, and we never got anywhere because we were too busy fighting all the time. And it just didn't feel right, anyway, wanting him romantically. He was more like a brother than a boyfriend." She turned her head and looked between her lashes at him. "When you and I ran into each other this last summer… that was the first time I'd ever really looked at a boy like that."
Draco felt his arrogant grin overtake his face and couldn't help himself. She sniffed in annoyance at his superciliousness. "Seriously, Malfoy, what did you expect? What little you were wearing… You wanted girls to notice. I couldn't help it."
He laughed uproariously. "I could say the same, Granger. That skimpy, little bikini was hot." He trailed his fingers lightly down to her thighs and he began inching her skirt higher up on her legs centimeter by agonizing centimeter as he spoke ardently against her ear. "Even though we were in the middle of all those people, I wanted so badly to tug the thin straps on your shoulders down so I could see your naked breasts. Your whole middle was bared, and I never realized how tight your abs were until that day. And those high cut bottoms showed off the curve of your hips deliciously. When you turned about, your arse swayed back and forth sexily. I nearly ran after you just so I could keep watching you walk away." He stopped moving the fabric of her uniform just before her knickers peeked out, and left his fingers resting on her bared thighs. "The memory of that day turned me on so much that I've spent nearly every day since thinking about it."
He closed his lips on her earlobe, and she gasped as he began gently suckling on it. Then, he trailed wetly down her neck, stopping over her pulse and nipping the skin lightly. He tongued a trail back up to her ear, and flicked the skin around her shell, finally settling back over her lobe. By the time he'd finished, she was shivering in his arms. "I've touched myself a lot to the memory of you, Hermione," he admitted. "I've made myself come over and over thinking about you naked under me." His hands that had rested passively on her legs began rubbing sensuous circles up and down from her knees to her thighs, slipping under her skirt again to caress all the way up to her hips, roaming over the edges of her panties. "Do you ever touch yourself?"
She began shivering in noticeable apprehension.
"Do you?" he pressed gently, his fingers delicately brushing across her skin. "Tell me true."
She bit her lip - the telltale sign of her anxious nervousness, he'd come to understand – and nodded slightly, and he could literally feel her heart pick up the pace a bit against his chest as she confessed her dirty, little secret to him. "Yes, only over my knickers, though," she admitted. "I've done it a few times."
"Have you ever come?" he pursued, intentionally lowering his voice into a mild hush so she would be soothed. He wanted her to rightly believe that her private confession would forever remain just between the two of them.
She shook her head. "Just… touched. It felt good, but…"
"Too naughty?" he supplied when she couldn't finish.
She nodded again.
"Do you want to try again?" he asked, stopping his hands on the inside of her thighs. "Just over your panties. I can teach you how to please yourself so you'll finish."
Against his back, he could feel Hermione's heart slamming now under her ribs, and he knew she was both terrified and exhilarated by what they were doing. Her hands went over his, keeping him in place, as she dangled over the precipice, undecided.
"You'll love it," he promised sinfully.
Still, she hesitated, obviously scared.
"Trust me with this, Granger," he supplicated, "and you'll find out how good it can be."
"You won't… think I'm a… slag, will you?" she asked, trembling, cringing over the nasty word.
He shook his head firmly. "No, I won't. You're the furthest thing from, Hermione." He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. And I won't think any differently of you if we do this right now." His right hand turned and readjusted over hers, then began moving them together slowly up towards her crotch, flipping the skirt up and out of the way at the same time. He rested them above her covered mound. "This feels so good," he assured her. "It's the best feeling in the whole world. You'll see."
She nodded, and gave herself over to what he was about to teach her, relaxing into him. Such trust… No other girl he'd ever been with had been this unquestionably pure. It made him feel protective and possessive of her all at once.
"Spread your legs a little wider," he bid and she complied. He shoved his knees under hers and pushed them up and out slightly. Then, took her fingers in his and traced them up and down over her panties, finding the slit and pressing in slightly. "Lesson three," he whispered in her ear. "How to please yourself. Don't be afraid of wanting to feel good." He pressed her finger in deeper and pushed her folds to the side through her knickers. "Mmmm… you're already damp," he commented and hummed appreciatively. "You'll need to be wetter once you do this without the panties, though, to keep it from hurting. Just keep stroking here, like this." He moved her finger up to the top of her thatch and pressed her hand down on her covered clitoris, then rubbed in circles, increasing the pressure as the minutes ticked by. Hermione moaned at the wonderful feel.
He wanted to work her up so she was out of control, so he pushed a little bit more. "Close your eyes now, and tell me one of your favorite sexual fantasies."
Her breathing picked up but she did close her eyes, he noted, watching her over her shoulder. She bit her lip again, so he pressed a kiss to her cheek, then to the corner of her mouth, slipping his tongue out to caress her teeth and bottom lip. "Tell me what turns you on," he pleaded in a whisper. "Tell me, baby. Just between you and me."
It took her a moment longer before she could voice anything, she was so obviously nervous, but finally, she succumbed. "I'm… I'm in one of the classrooms on my rounds. The door shuts behind me and… I know I'm not alone." She paused and bit her lip again, and he watched as the color bloomed on her cheeks vibrantly.
"Mmmm… tell me more." He intentionally used his voice as a weapon to disarm her, wanting her to give up some of her hard won control. It was essential for her to drop her repressive defenses so she could really enjoy this. "Please, Hermione."
She swallowed. "I… I lower my wand and extinguish the light," she continued tentatively. "I can't see his face, because it's so dark, but I don't feel threatened. Somehow, I know he won't hurt me. I turn towards the door, but as I reach for the handle, he grabs me from behind."
"Like I did to you in the greenhouse," he reminded her.
She nodded. "And… and he starts breathing against my neck, and then kisses my throat."
Draco dipped his mouth to her skin to mimic the actions she was describing, making her fantasy suddenly real in her mind. She let out a soft gasp in reaction. "Go on," he encouraged. "What did I do to you then?" That he'd automatically inserted himself into her imagined fancy as the mysterious, faceless man made this experience much more arousing suddenly for both of them. He felt it in the way her breathing picked up, and as his cock hardened in his pants. Gods, this was the most erotic thing he'd ever done in his life!
She took a deep breath and continued. "You… you move me so I'm leaning over the Professor's desk, my back still to you. You place my hands out in front of me and tell me to leave them there..."
"How do you feel about that?" he interrupted. "Knowing it's me telling you what to do? Almost demanding you to do as I say?" he asked as his lips ran over her sensitive skin on her throat. Her answer to this question was very important, and would set the tone for their future interludes, so he paid very serious attention to her response and body language.
She swallowed again and he saw the tip of her pink tongue peek out quickly to lick her lips. "I'm a little frightened and angry by it, but… I don't want to leave because… because in this case, I don't mind… because it's you."
Draco's smile stretched across his face. So, his little Siren was a dominant by nature, who secretly wanted to be a submissive in bed - which is exactly what he'd assumed of her personality even before today. And apparently she already trusted him not to hurt her. Good to know.
"I knew you would be like that, Hermione," he whispered, rubbing his nose slowly up her jaw line. "That you'd want to be out of control sometimes. That you'd want to give in to things that are a little naughty. You want me to take you there, don't you?"
Hesitantly, she nodded. "Yes. That's why… why I chose to be with you, Draco. Because… I know… you'll give me those things. You'll give me what I want."
He moaned as the visual of her naked and orgasming under him flashed before his eyes once more, and he silently promised her that he would do that for her. He would make her scream in desire. He would give her such sexual freedom that she'd eventually come to him and not be afraid to dominate him whenever she wanted. And he'd love it when she finally made it to that level. The thought of her fucking him at her own instigation… He sucked hard on her collarbone, and left a bruising love bite on purpose, his first mark on her. More would come in time. He would cover her with his brandings soon…
"You were leaning against the desk, me behind you," he reminded her. "What did I do to you then?" He watched her draw her bottom lip between her teeth a third time, but he didn't back down, knowing she wanted this as much as he did. He coaxed her answer out of her by licking a path up and down her throat again. "What do you want me to do to you, Hermione?" he whispered hotly against her earlobe. "I'll do whatever you ask."
Taking the plunge, she told of his removal of her knickers, of him lifting her skirt and bending her over further, and then how he'd entered her from behind.
"Do you want me to take you fast or slow, baby?" he asked, wanting to know for future reference. He had every intention of living out this fantasy with her as soon as they'd started having sex in a few weeks.
"Slow, at first," she admitted as he dug their fingers together against her clit, eliciting another moan from her. "Then faster. I want you to take me until I can't think anymore, and all I can feel is you inside of me." She started shaking again. "Godric, I… I want you, Draco. I want this to be real."
"It will be," he promised her. "Soon."
When he moved her fingers back up and down her slit then, they could both feel that her panties were very wet. "Soaking," he smiled approvingly against her ear. "Just right." He tugged her left hand under her button-up shirt, slowly moving up to caress her stomach and then over her chest. "Touching your breasts at the same time makes you come harder," he explained, tugging down the side of her bra to expose her left breast to their combined fingers. "Rub your nipples. The pressure will send you over in no time."
He moved both of her hands over her body expertly, the one under her shirt, the other between her legs, teaching her how to please herself in a safe way, and the power trip he rode throughout the instruction was heady and addictive. He felt his shaft pulsing with need, and knew he'd have to take care of himself later when he was alone, otherwise he'd be aching all day.
As Hermione approached her climax, her legs began quavering uncontrollably and panting breaths were drawn sharper from her lungs. "Merlin… Draco…" she moaned, hanging her head forward, pressing them both harder on clit, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she crested what he knew would be a powerful wave of pleasure.
"Come for me, Hermione," he commanded, watching her over her shoulder, wanting to imprint the moment of her very first orgasm forever in his mind. "Let yourself go."
When it happened, her knees pressed tightly together, her whole body tensed up, and then she threw her head far back on his shoulder, thrusting her breasts out at the same time. Her face transposed into acute ecstasy between one breath and the next; her wet, pink lips parted in a cry of pleasure, her eyelids shuddered once, and blood suffused her face. "OH, DRACO!" she shouted his name loudly as her body quaked from head to toe with raw, unfettered feelings.
It was the most beautiful orgasm he'd ever witnessed - completely honest, unrestrained, captivating in its innocence. And he'd been the one to do it with her. Granger had let him share one of her firsts again. She'd even shouted for him in the end. A pleasing warmth spread throughout his center.
When the blissful satisfaction rolled away from her finally, Hermione gasped for air. With her eyes still closed, she turned her face to the side, burrowing partially into Draco's chest, apparently seeking his acceptance of what had just happened between them. He gave it to her by hugging her tightly and kissing the top of her curly head several times. She was then able to settle. "That… amazing," she managed when her heart started to slow and her breathing to even out again. "Thank you."
He chuckled. "You're welcome. Although I have to tell you that was bloody incredible to be a part of, Granger."
He continued to hold her against him, willing his erection down until he was once more under control. According to the Sandkeeper on the wall, it was now eleven forty-eight. They still had an hour and twelve minutes before their next class. Plenty of time to relax.
He was just leaning deeper into the couch when her next words shot a cold spike of panic straight through his spine.
"We shouldn't do this again."
What?
Shit.
Was she serious?
"I mean, not during the middle of a school day," she qualified with a yawn (which she covered behind her hand daintily). "I want to skip the rest of my classes now and just lazy around."
A small sigh of relief escaped him before he realized he'd made such a telling mistake. He didn't want her knowing he'd practically had a heart attack from her pronouncement. He tried covering it by appearing to agree – although secretly, he didn't (he rather liked getting down with her at any time of the day or night). "You're right, of course," he tried to sound supportive. "We'll stick to doing this kind of thing during our regular nights to meet, then."
"Will you still walk with me to class?" she asked, and he knew what she was really asking: was today a fluke or would they act like a proper boyfriend and girlfriend around school? He decided to put it to her, since he already knew he didn't mind it either way.
"What do you want me to do?"
She was quiet for a bit before answering. "I liked sitting with you today… well, not the Ron thing, but everything else. And I liked walking with you through the halls and partnering up. If that's not going to… um... crimp your style, then I wouldn't mind doing it again."
"All right, then." He agreed to her request easily enough. The truth was, up until that morning, Draco had never openly acknowledged a girl as his to the whole school, preferring to keep such trivial "relationships" clandestine and as short-term as possible. But in Hermione's case, he was willing to make an exception, because he was really starting to like her, despite their past and specifically because of their present. As for their future… He was sure he'd like her a lot more once they got to the highly anticipated part of their agreement.
He internally sighed. It sucked that they had to come to an end by Christmas. But then, that had been her rule, and he'd agreed to it, so there was no going back. He'd just have to enjoy their time together while it lasted, and then… well, then, he'd just move on, as usual.
For some reason, that thought didn't settle well with him, though.
His internal therapist didn't get any further mental exploration time in before his stomach let them both know that it was time to head down for lunch. "Apparently, I'm starved," he snickered. "Let's go down and eat."
Hermione reluctantly agreed and he pushed her skirt back down over her thighs, giving her skin one last stroke with his fingers for tactile memory's sake, and then sat them both up. Her eyes were languid, her face absolutely contented, a silly smile aligning her lips. Her hair was slightly mussed, too, so he smoothed it down.
"You look like you just got the shag of your life, Granger," he teased.
She slapped his hand away playfully and went into the bathroom to freshen up. When she came back out, her eyes were once more sharp, and her hair neatly braided back. They put their shoes on and grabbed up their bags from the floor. On the way out the door, however, Hermione grabbed him and laid a big Frenchy on him. They spent the next ten minutes tangled with each other against the wall before his stomach's second loud protest made them both chuckle and pull away.
Dipping her head out the door, Hermione looked both ways to make sure the coast was clear, and then they hurried out of her room (she locked it behind with a wave of her wand) and they headed down to the dining hall together for lunch, pretending for all the world as if the last hour had simply been innocently spent.