𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐏 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐓 𝐇 𝐈 𝐑 𝐓 𝐘 𝐒 𝐄 𝐕 𝐄 𝐍
warning: profanities and sexual content ahead.
______
RULE NO. 5
Contraceptive potions, to be provided by Draco Malfoy and consumed by Clementia Bass on a daily basis, will be the only form of contraceptive used. (This rule is subject to change).
______
T H I R D P E R S O N
It's been exactly a week and a day since she last heard from him.
No words exchanged when they see each other in the Great Hall or in shared classes, no notes accompanying the potion that magically appeared on Clementia's bedside table every morning (or dawn, she assumed), not even a grunt of acknowledgment whenever they pass each other in the halls. Draco Malfoy was giving her the silent treatment, and she was not enjoying it at all.
She had finished all the schoolwork she missed from her week in the infirmary, including the essay for the potion he helped her brew, so there was no reason for them to see each other, other than the group research work that they had finished four days ago.
The stolen glances they both took when they got the chance meant that his silence didn't exactly mean he was ignoring her, but that he simply did not have a reason to talk to her. And it was frustrating.
The last bit of interaction she had had with him was the parting kiss, and after eight days, she was nowhere near getting by. Especially not since she knew that whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it—was right at her fingertips.
In many ways, she had been personally affected by the recent changes between them. For one, the contraceptive potion she had been taking daily had side effects that her body had yet to be used to. It caused a weird sort of appetite; the type to get her to eat one serving more than she usually does. She had also been sleeping better, despite the workload that had only recently gotten much more bearable (compared to the previous week).
She felt different—and weirdly enough, it seemed to be aiding the potions Madam Pomfrey made her take. She noticed this, of course, but said nothing more than a hum of interest upon noticing the slight change in her weight in one of her daily diagnostic charms. The healer was never one to pry.
But, despite the effects, Clementia felt that it was all useless. She hadn't even had sex with the person she was taking it for in months.
Her knuckles were turning white as she gripped the fork in her hand, eyes never leaving the blond a few feet away from her at breakfast.
The eggs on her plate had been long forgotten since he walked in, her morning hunger and grogginess vanishing suddenly.
He was reading something, possibly a novel, a habit Clementia only noticed recently. He didn't do it very often in public, because she had only seen him reading a book no more than two times in the span of a week.
Then, again, she always avoided looking at him before their agreement. It's not surprising that most of his habits are new to her.
His face was blank, eyebrows knit together, not giving a single damn about Theo and Blaise having a rather loud conversation about Quidditch on either side of him. He did not even glare at Danielle, like the other Slytherins had, who yelled a little too enthusiastically in agreement to something Blaise said.
He blinks. He turns a page. He blinks. He turns a page.
He does this over and over again and Clementia just watches him with gritted teeth. This had been their routine everyday; only, today was the first day Clementia had actually been unable to tear her eyes away from him. Her stare turns into a scowl as she watches him nonchalantly turn another page, before something blocks him from her view. She jumps at the sudden intrusion.
"Alright, pretty boy?"
From Danielle's voice, she guesses she had been startled by his appearance out of nowhere too.
"Good morning, Danielle," Clarence smiles his prince charming smile at Danielle, and a few Slytherin girls nearby begin to talk in fast whispers. "Clementia,"
"Morning," She mumbles, dragging her eyes away from him to her plate.
He shifts his weight from foot to foot for about a minute before speaking again. "May I have a word with you?"
Clementia takes a sip of water from her goblet before giving him a half smile. "Lead the way." She stands, glancing at Danielle who had a skeptical look on her face.
Clementia had purposefully ignored Clarence since what happened at breakfast nearly two weeks ago, and it actually surprised her that he hadn't made a move to apologize since then—especially for someone who confessed to liking her.
She wasn't angry, no. But she was very, very annoyed by how he acted the last time. He was nagging her on purpose, because Draco was there. The Clarence she knew—or she thought she knew—would not have been that persistent had he known she was busy. But, from her point of view, he acted as though he knew she would say yes. That he was sure Clementia would openly accept his help in front of Draco.
She felt more like a prize than a girl he liked—and not in a good way.
Danielle knew this, and so the teasing about the prospect of dating Clarence had been dropped. And Merlin knows if he'll ever regain that treatment—that liking—from Danielle again.
Perhaps he'd prove himself worthy, perhaps he'd just apologize and take back his confession. Either way, Clementia was too focused on thinking about the boy whose nose was buried in a book to give too much thought to the boy who disappointed her in the span of a month that she'd known him.
She follows him out of the Great Hall, and is surprised to see him stop there, just by the wall outside. Anyone leaving and entering could easily spot them, but they were out of view for those inside. Clementia didn't know what to make of this.
"Look," He starts, burying his hands in the pocket of his robes. She walks backward to the wall and rests her back on it, willing him to continue. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" She feigns naivety, raising two eyebrows.
He sighs, and his eyes fall to the ground. "For how I acted."
"When?"
"At breakfast, when you were with Malfoy." He continued, his body tense yet his voice steady. "I feel like I cornered you."
"How so?"
"I kept forcing you to spend time with me, even if it was obvious you couldn't." His palm scrapes the back of his neck, and Clementia could not help but notice how much the deep chestnut of his hair contrasted with the light green of his eyes. Despite the apprehension rolling off his body, he appeared to be in good shape. Great, even. Well-rested and well-exercised.
She also could not help but notice how different he was compared to someone she knew.
Clarence had been very patient in answering her pretentious questions; not a single snarky comment or sarcastic answer. She knew he knew she was just testing him, that she was actually aware of what he was talking about, yet he spoke like he did not mind having to say it himself.
Draco would have scoffed at her very first question. For all she knew, he would not have even asked for a moment to talk to her. He would forget about whatever it was and let her deal with it.
Or pin her to the wall behind her and ravish the living hell out of her mouth.
And the worst part was she'd take it. Welcome it. Enjoy it more than she was supposed to. And, most of all, she would rather have it than a calm explanation on any freaking day.
"Are you together?"
She was immediately snapped out of her thoughts by his question, but her answer comes out just as fast. Like instinct. "No, we're not."
He nods his head slowly. "You're not- dating or anything?"
"No."
"You seemed pretty close." He looks at her now, studying her expression closely.
"People are allowed to sit next to each other and talk without having a relationship, Clarence." She snapped, crossing her arms. "I don't know why you hate each other so much, but I assure you that on his side it's probably not because of me."
She did know. Draco had given her a brief (and slightly aggressive) explanation of their feud. It was why some of their rules even existed.
"His Mr. Perfect act is one thing, but the way he incessantly forces you to do things with him is fucking aggravating," He had said. "The worst part is that he thinks he's being cute. As one of the many unwilling spectators of his, it disgusts me—the way he is with you."
Why, she had asked, and he answered, "It's like he's draping himself all over you, in the most cheesy way possible. And the way he looks at you, it makes me gag. That, and the know-it-all bullshit he pulls every class. He's like a fucking Gryffindor. No Slytherin is that sappy or annoying."
She almost asked why he saw even the look on Clarence's eyes, but it would sound too interested.
"Oh." He blinks. "I thought he liked you."
"He doesn't and he can't." It would be too dangerous.
"Okay." He nods again. "I really am sorry, Clementia. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable or cause a scene in the Great Hall. I was just- driven by my emotions—I guess."
"I just like you that much." He smiles, and she wonders for a very long moment on what she should do.
"Sure you do." She had meant it sarcastically, a small twitch at the corner of her lips.
But he was looking at her too intently to notice it. His smile was fading, his expression turning serious. "I do."
"Right." She parted from the wall and looked at the entrance of the Great Hall, where students began to file out and walk to their classes. "Well, I have to go. Class starts in fifteen."
She turns to walk away, thinking he had already gotten the message, when he reaches out to tug on her wrist.
His hand was soft, and his touch was unsurprisingly gentle. It did not make her feel uncomfortable, this, she had to admit.
She halted her steps and her eyes fall to the place where his hand met her wrist, and he drops her hand slowly. "I'm really sorry, Clementia. It won't happen again."
"If you say so."
"Did I lose all my chances of getting that last part of the tour?"
She cracks a small smile, a weird feeling of conscience stirring in her stomach. She had promised to tour him around the school in the first place, and it would be petty and immature to disappoint him for something as shallow as this. It seemed shallow, now that he had apologized and explained a little. Clementia could give him another shot.
At what, she didn't bother defining.
"So?"
"I'll think about it." She walked away, ready to tell Danielle every single detail but one.
-
Defense Against the Dark Arts was tantalizing.
Draco had decided to sit right in front of her, where she could directly see him and everything he does, smell him, and hear him talk.
And, for the rest of the godforsaken hour and a half, she could not sit still.
He rarely sat this close to her. It was always either a few seats away or from a place she could not see him. Even when Blaise purposefully ushered him and Theo to a seat next to her and Danielle's table to be close to Danielle, he would choose the farthest one. It made classes bearable, even though the biggest distraction to ever exist was inside the classroom. Having him out of her sight made it a little easier to keep him out of her mind.
Today, though, even if she had only seen him in breakfast and lunch in the Great Hall, her mind kept straying to inappropriate things. Things that concerned him.
And as if he could read her mind, he decided to sit in front of her to give her a clearer visual of what had been the main character of her unwelcome fantasies.
When Umbridge began to conclude the lesson, Clementia pulled a piece of parchment from her bag, a blank one, and ripped out a part of it.
She didn't have a plan. She was merely acting on impatience and that raging heat inside her.
She keeps away the rest of the parchment and keeps the part that she ripped on the edge of the table.
When the professor finally stopped talking, she remained seated even as everyone around her stood to leave. Danielle bid her a see you later before running off to change into her Quidditch robes, Blaise right behind her. Theo and Draco stood, picking up their things.
She looked at him as hard as she could, as if she could control his eyes with her mind to make them look at her.
When he did, she wasted no time. Glancing at the torn piece of blank parchment on the edge of her desk, she moves her elbow—as subtly and gracefully as she could—and the parchment falls to the ground.
He stares at it for a second, taking just the right amount of time for Theo to pass him and follow after Danielle and Blaise, probably thinking Draco would be doing the same. Little did they know.
"Now?" He mouthes. His expression was unreadable like usual, but there was a smirk forming on his lips.
She stands, picking up her things. "Now." She says seriously as she turns away from him to head out.
-
The door creaks. The bizarre mix of excitement and irritation stirs wildly in her stomach.
He was five minutes later than she was, but the uncharacteristic tardiness had been explained once he stepped through the large doors of the Room of Requirement.
He had already changed into his Quidditch robes. The bold emerald green stood out from the dullness of the room, and everything else blurs except for his figure. His eyes find hers, and her breath catches in her throat.
He walks to the table she was leaning on, the same table they had used to brew the Antidote to Common Poisons, and sets down his broom and a duffle bag which she guessed contained his clean clothes.
"I have a question." Clementia starts, her palms flattening on the table as she used her arms to support her back.
"Good for you." He replies, pulling at the collar of his robes to remove it. The smell of expensive perfume and mint waft to her as he sets it down on the space beside her.
She rolls her eyes. "Can I ask it?"
"You already are." He plants his palms on the table on either side of her, trapping her into his arms. "Stop pretending to be stupid and get to the point."
Extremely taken aback by the sudden reduction of distance, she unconsciously backs into the table, but there wasn't any space left. He tilts his head curiously in mockery of her silent panic. She takes a few seconds to attempt to breathe normally before speaking again. "Do you actually want to do this?"
He snorts and looks away, but keeps his hands where they are. "I can't tell if you're pretending to be stupid or if you actually are stupid this time."
"Just answer my question."
He faces her again, and before she knows it, a hot breath fans against the side of her neck, and she could feel his body slowly press against hers.
"Why the fuck do you think i'm here if I don't want to do this, Bass?"
"I just- oh," She blurts out as he places a slow kiss below her jaw. He opens his mouth and sucks on it gently, strong enough to tug the skin between his teeth but weak enough not to leave a mark. He laves it with his tongue, the warmth making her grip the table. "Just making sure."
"Mhm," He mumbles as his lips travel downward, sucking and biting softly on the tender skin and soothing it with his tongue. His lips were soft and left a tingling sensation on whatever they touched.
She closes her eyes, and one hand gives in and lets go of the table to slide along the back of his neck.
His palms depart from the table. She could feel one sliding up her hips, and the other holding a strong grip on the back of her neck. She lets out controlled pants as he continues, and he seems to notice—because the hand on the back of her neck makes its way to the bottom end of her scalp, fisting a part of her hair to tilt her head upward and give him more access to her neck. She gasps at this, the burning feeling in the pit of her stomach roaring at the sudden painful sensation.
He uses his grip on her hair to bring her face to his, and every little remaining thought in her head vanishes the moment their lips part at the same time, the impatience evident in both of their movements. His tongue enters her mouth and tangles itself on hers, their lips moving in desperate desire to taste more of each other.
He brings down his other hand to her hips, both now placed on its curve, and they both moan when he grinds it against his own. He keeps it there as they kiss, and she knew it was so that she could feel him grow hard beneath her clothed core. Her breath stutters even more at this, and both her hands now cling to his neck to bring him closer.
He moves her hips against his again, with much more force this time, that a guttural grunt vibrates off his tongue as it invades every crevice of her mouth.
Draco lifts her suddenly, as if she did not weigh a thing, and sits her down on top of the table. Her skirt rides up, displaying her thighs. Instinctively, she wraps her legs around his torso, feeling his hardness against what she was sure was a growing wetness on her underwear. He places his hands on her bum, giving it a tight squeeze.
She presses closer to him, moving her hips forward. "Shit," He swears against her mouth, his teeth grazing on her bottom lip.
In a hazy moment of lust and boldness, Clementia pulls away, panting, and brings her lips to his ear. "Draco," She takes his lobe between her teeth and pulls it. "I want you to fuck me."
She could feel his lips on her collarbone. "I can't."
She almost whines her response, but the tongue on her skin keeps her grounded. "Why not?"
He pulls back to look at her, lips glazed with both of their saliva. "You're not ready."
"How exactly would you know that?"
He smirks, and she almost grinds her hips against him to see what it would change into after his now rock-hard length caresses her soaking wet panties. "It's been months, Clementine."
"And how are you so sure I haven't fucked anybody else since?"
"I'm not," His gaze darkens, the black of his pupil taking over the crystal grey of his iris. "But I do know you're not ready for me."
"You're so fucking conceited." She gives into the temptation this time. She rolls her hips against the fabric of his trousers, her skirt riding up even more to reveal the lace of her panties. She struggles, but keeps her eyes on him the whole time, watching as his eyes shut close and feeling the grip on her behind tighten.
"Oh, yeah?" He recovers, but keeps his eyes narrow.
"Yeah," She mutters under her breath, pulling his neck down with her hands and stopping when his face is centimeters from her. "If you're so proud of yourself, at least prove it."
"Nice try," One hand leaves her bum to touch her thigh, slowly kneading the soft inner skin. The rings on his fingers were like ice against the feverish feeling of her skin. "You couldn't even walk the last time I had you. Want that to happen again, huh?" He moves his face closer, their lips a hairsbreadth away from each other. "Want everyone to know how much of a fucking slut you are for my cock?" His fingers crawl to her centre, teasing at the hem of her underwear. "Is that what you want to hear?"
She looks up at him through her eyelashes, knowing she brought herself into this. She did not regret provoking him. Not even one bit.
He slips a finger underneath, and it easily slides against her folds from all the wetness. "Merlin fuck, you're soaking wet," Her legs attempt to shut, wrapping around his torso tighter.
He retracts his hand and pulls away. He keeps his eyes on her as he removes each of his rings, one by one. He removes a hand of hers from his neck, spreading the fingers before him.
The cold silver that slipped through her fingers was a sobering feeling, and perhaps, even the act itself—Draco had slipped all the rings from his left hand on her right one, the large sizes making it easier for her slim fingers to wear.
Before she could react or think, his hand is back between her thighs, and a moan is escaping her lips before she can stop it.
He slips his middle finger in first, before sliding it out at a brutally slow pace. She bucks her hips. "Fuck, please—"
He adds his ring finger without warning, and her hand with his rings meets his shoulder to clutch onto as he slid his fingers in and out of her at a now growing pace.
She rolls her hips, pulls him closer with her legs, grips his neck and shoulder so hard she was sure it hurt—anything to get more of him. His lips nibble softly at her jaw, nothing like the way his fingers worked their way into her hole. He curls them, and she cries out in pleasure. "There. There, Draco—"
"Here?" He whispers against her skin as he repeats the movement.
"Yes. Oh, yes," The metal of the rings clink against each other as she balls up his Quidditch jersey into a fist. He goes faster, and her legs begin to shake from where they're wrapped around him. He angles his thumb to rub her clit through the fabric of her panties, moving in circles that had her eyes rolling through the back of her head.
"Oh—"
She grinds against his fingers, and Draco releases a low sigh at the feeling of the heat of her core on his fingers.
When he goes even faster and her legs fail to remain lifted and wrapped around his body, he bites the juncture between her jaw and her ear. "Draco,"
"Yes, Clementine?" His eyes are wide open, taking in every second of her reaction to his touch, to his movements. "Are you going to cum? Going to leave all your filth on my fingers?"
She lets out a groan. He applies more friction between his thumb and her clit, and when she cries out his name one last time, Draco could feel all her cum drip on his fingers.
He gives her a moment, and another, and another—until she let go of him and allowed her back to collapse on the table. He watches her like one would watch the resolution of a movie; piecing together the parts, basking in every last bit of adrenaline left by the climax.
When she finally opens her eyes, he looms over her, and lets her watch as he took his fingers he had used on her in his mouth. He licked them clean while studying the way her eyes switched from his to his fingers on his mouth.
She lifts her right hand to give him the rings, and he takes them off one by one and inserts them back on his fingers.
"Draco, you- you're still-"
"I know."
She pulls herself up into her previous sitting position. "Then let's-"
"No."
"The agreement is not just for me, you know." She tucks a part of her hair behind her ear as she glances at the tent that had built itself on his trousers. "I can help you."
He backs away, a few feet from her. "Quidditch training started twenty minutes ago, Bass. We- I don't have time for that. I'll take care of it myself."
"But-"
"When I need you, I'll let you know."
"Okay," She sighs, shooting another tentative look at his boner. "Owl me." She hops off the table and turns her back on him, albeit full of hesitation.
But a thought strikes her before she opens the door. "By the way, that contraceptive potion you give me—is it like the traditional kind?"
A ghost of a smile appears on his lips. "No. I have it custom made by my family's trusted potions master."
Her eyebrows furrow. "Custom made? How exactly did you customize them?"
He runs a hand through his hair. "The normal contraceptive potions could interfere with the potions Pomfrey gives you. It's safe to say that the side effects of that interference to you would very much be an inconvenience to our arrangement. I gave the potions master a copy of the potions you take and their ingredients. His creation is not too far from the traditional version—he just altered some measurements and used alternative ingredients instead of those that would counteract the ingredients of the potions you already take."
It takes her a while to process this, and a lot more time to think about it later when she tries to sleep. He had put so much thought into it, and even considered her own health. She did not know how to feel about this.
"Oh."
"Why? Are you having problems with it?"
"Not exactly, no..." She bites her lip, unable to come up with a way to express her gratitude without sounding creepy. "But if I gain ten pounds in a span of a month, i'm blaming you and your smart little potions master."
He laughs out loud.
•••
Aaaand the smut returns ! More to come, heehee (pun intended)
Also, I finished this at 3 am and was not able to proofread it, so I apologize for any mistakes !!
—A