"This was ours, Hermione!" Ron raised his voice. "You had no right to bring someone else into this without asking!"
Harry plopped himself down on Ron's bed with a resigned sigh and zapped the door with a Silencing Charm, watching the two of them blow up at each other. Again. Hermione thought they were done with this already, but Ron was still having it out.
They had argued. Ron made his case, Hermione made hers, the only reason he was yelling now was because he was still angry and wanted to take it out on her. As if combat training didn't provide enough of an outlet for pent up irritation.
"But we were stuck!" she countered, just as loud as he was. "We've had no leads for months! What else are we supposed to do? Wait for the bloody Horcruxes to fall into our laps?"
Hermione was positively seething, and Ron's face was getting redder as he worked himself up. A vein protruded from the cords of his neck.
"You could have at least asked," Ron ground out. "Not only did you make a decision without us talking it over, but you didn't even bother to tell us who or how they would get it for you once you did."
She exhaled furiously. "I already told you," she shot back, stamping her foot. "They got it from Hogwarts. It was in the Room of Hidden Things."
Ron took a step towards her, towering over her and completely livid. "Then tell us who!"
Hermione clenched her fists at her sides, very much wanting to punch him. "I can't!"
Harry fell back with a grunt onto Ron's bed. She heard the mattress squeak. "Can you two stop?" he begged with a tired groan.
"But you can tell them about the Horcruxes?" Ron persisted, ignoring Harry's plea.
The way Ron went back over the same points maddened her to the point of insanity.
"Again!" she waved her hand at him. "They don't know what the sodding Horcruxes are! They brought the diadem and that's it. They don't know how it relates to You-Know-Who! I showed them a picture, they knew where it was and they brought it. How is this not a good thing?"
Hermione's throat was starting to hurt as they descended into all out screaming.
"Because you didn't ask!" Ron snapped at her.
"Fine!" she bit back. "I should have asked!"
"And you should have told us who!" he retorted.
"No!" she stomped her foot again. "I can't tell you who!"
"Why?" he persisted, his voice bursting through the air in room.
This was so frustrating. They were going in circles, saying the same things over and over. Didn't he see that? Thank Merlin she put a halt to their progressing romantic involvement. They would have been terrible together.
"Because I can't!" Hermione threw her arms out at her side, completely exasperated. "I can't share everything that happens at the senior meetings, you know that!"
"But the Horcruxes were always our thing!" Ron shot back. "You don't talk about that with leadership!"
"Yes!" she hissed, but happy that at least she could agree with him on something. "And they are still our thing!"
He closed in on her and she had to tilt her head up to glare at him amidst the shouting.
"But now someone else is involved! How did you even know to include this person?"
Hermione exhaled angrily. "I can't tell you that either."
"For fucks' sake!" Ron smacked the door with his palm. He turned around to look at Harry. "Aren't you going to say anything?"
"She's already heard it," Harry replied tonelessly.
"Heard what, Harry?" Ron snarled.
Harry sighed and spoke to the ceiling, not bothering to even sit up. "I agree; Hermione should have asked. But it's done. She made a decision without asking us. She can't tell us who or why and just like all the other stuff from leadership that she can't tell us, we'll have to trust her on that too." He spoke in an emotionless monotone, clearly wanting the whole scene to end. "Why Hermione thinks we should trust her judgement when she didn't even trust us enough to ask is beyond me. Can we move on now? We've got that buggering party at the Malfoy's to think about."
Dammit, Harry.
He accused her of the same thing that Tonks did. Of expecting trust but not giving it. And with her best friends of all people. He was right. She should have discussed it with them first.
"Sorry," she muttered.
Always one to appreciate a genuine apology, Harry waved his hand from his prone position on the bed. "S'okay."
They had to move on and figure out how they were going to attend the summer party. He was right about that too.
What was this war doing to her that she stopped trusting her best friends' judgement?
~
Hermione sat on her bed, fingering her Galleon pensively. She had made some progress with Harry and Ron on how to go about attending the Malfoy event, but it was tense. Vintage sixth year with Harry taking on the reluctant role of mediator between her and Ron all over again. She felt guilty, and resolved to keep her temper in check in the future. She didn't want to Occlude in front of them, seeing how mad Ron got when she cut things off with him. But maybe she should try again if she was able to appear more natural.
One thing was for sure, after that blow up, Hermione was glad she had a place to escape to. To her own Muggle bedroom.
It was ironic how things had turned out. She had started off communicating with Draco as if meeting up for a secret affair. Now it was a lovers' affair. She glanced around the room, waiting for him to appear. Something felt wrong. She didn't like waiting for him on her bed like this. As if she were passive and unsure, watching the seconds tick by until he came.
Last evening, she had been the one to kiss him but he had completely taken over, somehow knowing it was her first time and wanting to make it special for her.
And he had. Very much so.
But Hermione wanted to do things to him. She wanted to initiate. She wanted to drive him crazy and tease him like he had to her. She didn't want to sit here waiting for him like a shy, naïve little girl, waiting to be taught.
That wasn't who she was.
A slow smile spread across her lips.
~
Draco bent over a stack of parchments. He was sitting in his father's study, reviewing the members of the Wizengamot in the ongoing Malfoy effort to slowly push out the remaining sympathizers with Dumbledore and get the bill passed. Ever since Hermione brought up the topic, he tried steering conversations with his father towards the purpose of the Decriminalization of Interactions With Muggles Act. But either Lucius didn't notice, or he refused to even hypothesize. Draco didn't know, and he couldn't ask. Knowing too much, or anything really, outside of what he was assigned in the Dark Lord's army was dangerous.
It would indicate he was a spy.
His Galleon warmed in his pocket and Draco took it out without interrupting his perusal of the letters in front of him.
I want you now.
Draco's eyes flicked up to his father. He couldn't see what Draco was doing behind his desk.
Draco thumbed the Galleon and shoved it back in his pocket.
30 minutes.
The hour was getting late and Draco could bring the night to an end without suspicion. He stood up, stretched and walked over to his father's liquor cabinet to hurry him off to bed. The Hufflepuff Cup wasn't there, of course. But he had checked earlier for good measure. Hermione had said it wouldn't be with the Malfoys, and she was right. He poured himself and his father a glass of cognac. His father glanced up in surprise and took the glass.
"Thank you, Draco."
They raised their glasses to each other, and each took a sip. Draco returned to his chair across the desk and sat down to organize the letters he wrote today.
His father studied him while he made stacks of the parchments and covered them in concealment charms for good measure. After a few moments of silence, Lucius spoke.
"The Dark Lord is pleased."
Draco glanced up; he didn't have to fake the happy surprise on his face. Sometimes he still felt like a child, desperate for one small word of approval from his father. A pity that approval had to come in service of a genocidal megalomaniac.
"I'm learning from the best, father."
Lucius raised an eyebrow suspiciously. That was laying it on too thick. Draco should have known better than to flatter him like that.
"How is Severus?"
Draco sipped his cognac, hoping his father would do the same and head off to bed sooner.
"Some of the new faculty aren't taking their jobs seriously. He has his work cut out for him."
His father sighed and shuffled the parchments on his desk. "One thing at a time. We will have more qualified teachers to choose from once the Order is stamped out." His icy eyes met Draco's. "Perhaps you would like to take over my role on the Board of Governors once this ordeal is over."
Going voluntarily to Hogwarts. Often. Sitting in on classes. Regularly interfacing with the Headmaster and faculty. The mere thought made Draco want to retch but he kept his features impassive. Draco hesitated just a bit too long to answer and his father noticed.
"The relationship between the governors and faculty is somewhat different from what you're used to." His father's lips tightened in a barely perceptible smirk.
The implication was clear. Once the war was won, he would be able to not only get rid of Alecto, but make her suffer first. Personally. His father, and by extension, the Dark Lord, must be very happy with him lately if a position on the Board was being offered.
Draco swirled his cognac around, considering how best to answer. "I think I'd enjoy serving the Dark Lord in such a manner."
His father took a long, measured sip and studied his son. "I imagine you would."
Draco downed the rest of his cognac, hoping that would signal the end of their night's work. "Until tomorrow?"
"Mmm," his father eyed him thoughtfully. "Good night, Draco."
Draco did his utmost best not to race out of the study, down the foyer, and up the stairs to his bedroom where he could safely Apparate away without anyone the wiser. All day long he had to force the images of Hermione naked, breathless and moaning his name down to the recesses of his mind so he could concentrate on political machinations with his father. All he could think about was the feel of her cunt around his cock, the press of her body against his and the taste of her skin on his lips.
Right before they Apparated out of Leicester, Draco realized that despite the way she talked, and the way he teased her about having sex with Potter and the Weasel, Hermione hadn't ever been intimate with anyone before. She wanted him; he knew that. But she had been terrified, nearly shaking when it became clear what was going to happen. Despite her terror, she reached up to kiss him and Apparate them away.
Maybe being a Gryffindor wasn't all that bad.
Maybe.
And once she loosened up it was phenomenal. She may have been inexperienced, but she was so responsive to his touch, and very passionate. It was easy to figure out what she liked, and she loved being teased.
After he came inside her, he simply lay atop her, breathless and basking in the sensation of her body underneath him. He could have lain in her bed with her curled up next to him forever, and hadn't wanted to leave. Despite her fear, she had given herself to him.
None of his fantasies had even come close to the reality of making love to her.
As he walked up the stairs with deliberate, agonizing slowness, he imagined Hermione waiting on the bed for him. She was probably nervous and fidgeting, wondering what he would do to her next. He would go down on her tonight, and felt himself getting hard at the thought. If she was still sore, he could wank himself and come on top of her while he thumbed her clit. He wanted to watch her come apart again. It was breathtaking.
He entered his bedroom and took out the Galleon.
Make me wait too long and I'll start without you.
He grinned. For all her inexperience, she was excellent at dirty talk.
Draco Apparated and nearly fell over onto her bed, stumbling over something on the floor. Hermione wasn't there. He looked down to see that he had tripped over her shoes and socks. He furrowed his brow. She was so particular about the order of her things, it wasn't like her to leave anything in the middle of the floor. He remembered how irritated she looked when she noticed her CDs were out of order and her bookshelf bit by bit became a disorganized mish mash of stacks in different directions.
Draco turned around to face her bedroom door and noticed her jeans on the floor. A slow smile spread on his lips. He opened the bedroom door and heard the shower running. Strewn across the hallway towards the bathroom were her T-shirt, bra and knickers. His brain blanked of any plans he had for tonight because he could only think three things: Hermione. Naked. Shower.
Immediately he started unbuttoning his shirt until giving up entirely, tearing it open and shucking it off his arms, dropping it on the hallway floor. He whipped his T-shirt off and over his head, leaving that forgotten on her floor as well. Unbuckling his belt, he strode down the hallway, opening his trousers and shoving them partway down his legs before he realized he hadn't yet taken off his socks and shoes. As quickly as he could, he toed off his loafers and raised one foot, trying to pull his sock off with his trousers still hanging around his knees. Draco hopped forward, tilted and crashed to the floor with a grunt, still trying to get his sock off.
Steam billowed out behind Hermione as she opened the door of the bathroom. She was wrapped in a towel and dripping water all over the floor. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, and full of concern as she looked down at him in surprise.
"Are you alright?"
Without answering, he removed his socks, lifted his arse to push down his boxers and jumped lithely to his feet. He kicked off the remaining clothing and she backed up a step with a nervous smile. Looming over her, his erection bobbed out between them. In less than a minute, he was going to be balls deep inside of her. He leaned forward, slowly fisted the fabric of the towel above her breasts and ripped it away from her body with a violent tug.
Hermione jumped and her eyes flashed in anticipation.
Naked. Hot. Dripping.
She bit her lip and her smile broadened; a lusty gleam entered her eyes.
"Get the fuck back in the shower, Granger."
~
Hermione fisted the pillow and released a choked cry, pushing her pelvis up and squeezing Draco's head between her thighs as another orgasm ripped through her. He was merciless.
"I can't," she gasped. "I can't anymore." He lifted his head up, wiped his mouth on the inside of her thigh and rested his chin on her stomach, watching her with a smug grin.
She panted, trying to catch her breath, and weakly reached forward to cup his face, touch his hair, anything, but her arm fell limply on her chest.
For fuck's sake.
It had been clear that Draco was going to take charge in the shower, too. But Hermione didn't want that tonight. Before he could fuck her into the wall, she played her trump card and went down on him. The instant fire in his eyes when he realized what she was about to do made her fumbling attempt worth it. Having Draco Malfoy completely at her mercy: in her hands, in her mouth, trembling and groaning with each swipe of her tongue and each movement of her lips, gave her a feeling of exhilarating power. Hermione wanted to make him feel as good as he made her, not merely a recipient of pleasure.
It was her first time, but he was patient, and guided her. She remembered how he would jolt suddenly with a gasp of 'Teeth!' when she would accidentally scrape him, and his groaning pleas to take him deeper, to fist him with her hand, to lick the underside, to suck the skin of the tip, to slow down, to speed up, and to fondle his scrotum until he couldn't speak any coherent words at all.
All of his maleness, his strength, his power, was completely in her control. Hermione was on her knees before him but Draco was at her mercy. She caused him to make those sounds. She made him gaze down at her like that. And she didn't let up until his body trembled and his knees buckled, nearly falling over in the shower. After warning her that he was about to come, he grunted, leaned his head back into the streaming water and jerked suddenly into her mouth, bracing himself against the shower wall while his legs shook.
Draco rested his head on his arm, propping himself against the tiles, and watched Hermione swallow his come with the water pounding down around them. Utterly spent, his lips lifted in a half smile as he cupped her face tenderly, lightly rubbing his thumb over her lips.
And now he was returning the favor.
Hermione was completely exhausted. She had no idea how many times she came.
"I can't move," she told him breathlessly.
He chuckled and climbed up to lay next to her, and the mattress depressed from his weight.
"That's one way to keep you with me tonight."
Draco draped his hard, muscled arm across her chest, wrapped a strong leg around hers and closed his limbs around her like a vise, bringing her in, tight against him.
Hermione smiled and melted into his warmth while her breathing returned to a normal pace. She watched while her chest pushed the weight of his arm up and down. She ran her hand along his arm and laced her fingers into his, he tightened his grip on her hand in response.
"Where did you learn how to do that?" she asked, still catching her breath.
She turned on her side and Draco spooned her, resting his chin in the crook of her shoulder.
"Pansy."
Hermione loved how his low voice rumbled from behind her.
"Thank her for me, will you?"
She felt him grin into the side of her head.
"Apparently it took me several months before I found her clit, let alone get her off. I was hopeless."
She hummed, enjoying the feel of the skin of his chest and thighs against her back and the back of her legs. "I can't imagine that wicked tongue of yours being anything less than perfect."
In reply, his tongue traced the outer shell of her ear lobe and she shivered, nestling into his body further.
"You're not so bad yourself," he spoke softly into her ear.
She grinned wider at his praise. "I didn't even know what I was doing."
"And like a bloody Gryffindor, you plunged in." He paused. "Head first."
She laughed and snuggled into him further. "It helped that you were so vocal."
He tightened his grip on her. "Honestly, dicks don't require much besides something hot, tight and wet. Anything else is a bonus."
"And you still liked it?" She couldn't help but feel just a little bit self-conscious.
"Hermione." His voice lowered an octave. "I will never say no to your mouth on my cock."
Hermione turned her head around, wanting to see Draco's eyes when he spoke with such raw desire about something she did to him. She had to kiss him. The moment their lips met he hardened against her arse and thrust lightly against her, holding her body in place with his arm.
Draco broke the kiss and lifted his leg to separate hers and position himself from behind. Hermione felt his tip at her entrance, pushing slightly, slipping along her folds and he spoke directly into her ear, making her tremble. "Are you still sore from last night?"
Hermione was ridiculously wet from his saliva and her arousal. His desire emboldened her and gave her more confidence. Instead of answering, she gripped him from below and angled him upward towards her entrance. He hissed against the skin of her cheek and pushed up and into her, hand splayed across her stomach. His fingers slid down her abdomen to find her clitoris but she didn't think she could bear any more stimulation there.
She pulled his hand up to her breast. "Too sensitive," she gasped as he squeezed and fondled her breasts. They rocked against each other, legs intertwined, finding a slow, sensuous rhythm amongst the desperate rubbing, moaning and groping. He grabbed her hip, grunted into her ear and trembled behind her, holding her fast against his chest.
"Hermione." Draco exhaled her name and came inside her.
Next up: Hermione gets caught!
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