Out of Hand by relativelypositive
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I make no money from the use of J.K. Rowling's characters.
Chapter 32
Hermione had always considered herself a nice person. Maybe not everyone's cup of tea, but nice. Conscientious. She could count on one hand the number of times she had purposefully angered someone. One of them had been today. It had not been Zabini.
Hiding away in her little library, Hermione tried to think through the way she'd treated Blaise Zabini. She'd barely talked to him before this week, and then only when partnered with him for a school-related project.
Had she really offended him? Was she prejudiced against Slytherins?
She decided her attitude towards them was a direct result of their attitude towards her. She'd been constantly ridiculed by the Slytherins for her blood status, her looks, her friends, her family, her house, her study habits, and her personality.
They judged her, and she judged them right back.
Was that wrong? Was she wrong?
She decided she was not wrong. What she hadn't done—and now she would start—was to allow for maturity.
Look at Draco! A year ago she was being called a Mudblood and was constantly the butt of his jokes.
Now he was kissing her and telling her she was going to marry him. And he talked about her having his kids like it was a given. A necessity.
And he wanted to have sex! With her, she presumed.
Having been brought up in the Muggle world, Hermione's attitude towards sex was much more relaxed. So much so that she'd shocked her friends.
She did not think a girl that had sex before she was married was a whore, or a slut, or any of the derogatory names they are called. As long as the sex was happening between two consenting people, she didn't care if it was a one-night stand!
To her, it was normal to experiment. Healthy.
She didn't think she was too young, as long as it was her own choice and she enjoyed it. Most of the Muggle teenagers she knew had done more than just kissing. It was just the way the world was now.
She'd thought about it often enough. Partly thanks to the summer between third and fourth years. Her parents had already given her the sex talk, and they had talked about "loving yourself" when what they really meant was masturbation.
Sometime during that year Claire Egglesfield and her friends had discovered masturbation and made it "cool" to do it. And talk about it. They called it "going to Zimbabwe." Hermione was afraid to ask why.
That summer Claire had gone into graphic detail, and Hermione couldn't get away from her fast enough.
But it had made her curious. She had experimented that summer, but didn't even think about it at Hogwarts. Living in a room with four other girls? Going to Zimbabwe wasn't really an option.
Knowing how to go to Zimbabwe efficiently had led to curiosity about having sex. (Claire hadn't yet given her a euphemism for that. She supposed there were already so many in existence she could just pick one.)
How much better would it be to have someone else to share it with?
And she was just lucky enough to have someone that was available to experiment on.
With. She meant with.
She didn't know how long they'd be holed up in the Warren, but if she didn't take advantage of the relative privacy of 23 rooms for 5 people and no adult supervision, she'd have to wait months for another chance.
She wanted to test the waters now.
Part of it was that kiss. She had felt that kiss in places she didn't know could be affected by kisses. She had been contemplating dragging Draco back into the room they had started in when Blaise had to stick his nose into their business.
Mood killer.
She had waited two hours before venturing out. She could hear nothing, so she assumed the boys were in one of the rooms exploring. She wanted to explore, as well, but felt she needed to touch base with Harry and maybe bring Draco with her.
Alone.
She had made it half way around the room, listening at each door for a few seconds, before she realized Draco was asleep on one of the couches in the middle of the room.
She continued around the room until she found the guys. They were dueling.
How long would that occupy them?
She looked back at Draco, dead to the world. She supposed it made sense. He had said that he had watched her all night in the Hospital Wing, waiting for Romilda Vane to attack.
She felt a little guilty for what she was about to do…but not really.
If all went to plan, she'd be giving him sweet dreams.
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Draco felt amazing. He could feel a body sliding over his. He could feel hot breath on his neck, then grazing kisses on his top lip, then his bottom lip.
In his dream, he slid naked into water, and could feel it caressing his skin as though it were a living entity. It was constant and arousing.
In the back of his mind he was slowly becoming alarmed.
He felt a soft hand brush his hair back, and the lips moved back to his neck. The body slithered, rubbing across his chest…and further down south.
In his dream, he was being gently lifted from the water. His skin turned to gooseflesh. His erection was heavy and insistent.
In the back of his mind, he wondered how a girl could sneak into the Slytherin boys' dormitories.
He felt a soft breath in his ear, and a tongue lightly licking his earlobe. Legs fell to the sides of his hips and the body pressed down, rubbing him just right, and forcing a small moan from his lips.
In his dream, Draco's skin started to burn, and he was submerged again into the water. He started losing control from the constant pleasure.
In the back of his mind, he was realizing that most of the sensations he was feeling were real.
He raised his hands to the legs that were straddling him and his large erection.
It was real.
He lifted a hand to cradle the head attached to the lips that were making him feel so good.
And felt bristly short hair.
What the fuck?
Draco yelped and bucked the guy off him.
"Fuck! What are you doing?" He yelled as he reflexively grabbed his wand. He fully opened his eyes and took in his surroundings.
He wasn't in his room. No guy had snuck in and tried to seduce him.
He pulled himself up and shook the haze of sleep from his mind.
He looked to the floor and saw Granger, cradling her head, and shaking.
XXXXXXXXXXX
Hermione was losing it again.
She wasn't sure if that could've possibly gone worse.
"What is going on out here?" Harry and Blaise had emerged from the dueling room, wands at the ready.
Hermione saw Draco grab a pillow and cover his crotch.
She couldn't hold in her giggle.
"Hermione?"
"Harry!"
"You okay down there?"
"I'm fine. You know me." She laughed. "Just traumatizing Malfoy."
She lifted herself and dusted off her butt, where she'd landed. She was on the verge of another hysterical laughing fit.
She felt scrambled. Her heart was beating fast, making her feel like she was having a panic attack.
Was she having a panic attack?
No big deal.
She had just misjudged Malfoy. Again.
In the few moments it took to walk to Harry and direct him toward the kitchen, Hermione made yet another decision.
She wouldn't marry a man that didn't want her.
A/N:
Thank you so much for sticking with me.
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