Hermione stayed in her room for the remainder of the evening. Harry had stayed with her for as long as he could justify, before returning to the academy. She could tell he was hesitant to leave her alone with Draco and his rage.
Draco did not emerge from his room except for frequent smoke breaks on the balcony. She'd never seen him smoke so much, and it worried her. She wondered if she should check on him, but she was afraid of his reaction. He'd spent half the night destroying everything in sight, repairing, and destroying it all once more. He was suffering, and probably very, very high.
Come Sunday morning she didn't hear or see anything from him. Maybe he'd worn himself out? Maybe he'd overdosed. She was genuinely scared to find out. She decided it would be best to give him the afternoon before checking on him.
It was about three o'clock when Draco finally made an appearance, wearing only his favorite grey sweatpants as usual. Hermione had been reading on the couch all day to ensure that if he did come out she wouldn't miss him. Crookshanks, who had been curled up on Hermione's feet, keeping them warm for her, jumped up and trotted off to Hermione's bedroom to avoid the wizard. The first thing Draco did was get a glass of water. Hermione watched over the top of her book. Merlin, she loved the way he wore those pants. He looked okay, physically, if not a little grumpy.
"Are you alright?" Draco asked Hermione haughtily, as though even feeling the need to ask was a great inconvenience to him.
Hermione didn't exactly know how to respond to that. "I'm okay," Hermione told him, feeling small. "Are you alright?"
Draco scoffed bitterly. "I'm fine," he claimed. Anger continued to radiate off of him. It wasn't as strong as the night before, but it was still there.
It was obvious to Hermione that Draco was suffering an internal struggle. A crisis of self, one might say. She'd never seen him look less confident in the many years she'd known him.
"What was I supposed to do?" Draco asked in a snippy tone after a brief silence.
Startled, Hermione set her book down and sat up straight from her reclined position. "I... I don't know."
"He was hurting you," Draco went on with what Hermione was beginning to recognize as the start of a rant.
"I know," she replied reassuringly.
"He was going to rape you."
Hermione cringed and looked down, eyes closed. He just had to use that word, didn't he? "I know."
"Then he would have killed you when he was done!" He was shouting now, and Hermione could hardly take it.
"I know!" She yelled back at him. Maybe he just needed to fight it out. Maybe she did too. "You think I don't know that?"
"I'm not a hero! That's not what I do!" He began to approach her now, and she pushed herself back on the couch until she met the arm.
"Well apparently it is!" Hermione shouted back much more bravely than she felt. "Because it's not the first time!" He seemed startled by that statement. She continued. "You saved me yesterday, just like you saved Harry at your manor, just like you threw Harry your wand in battle so he could finish the job. YOU did those things!"
"I'm not a hero!" He shouted again. "I'm a killer! I've killed so many more than I've saved."
Hermione choked back a sob. She didn't like to think of the things he was forced to do while serving under Voldemort. "You had no choice." She stated firmly.
"I had no choice yesterday," he told her, his tone contradicting. "When I saw what he-" he shook away the image I'm his mind. "I'm not that guy, okay?"
"You're not what guy?" Hermione asked, sounding snippy herself now. There were so many conflicting emotions trying to come out all at once.
"I'm not your boyfriend!" He snapped. "I'm not Weasley! I'm not Potter! I'm not courageous and loyal. I'm not a bloody Gryffindor. And I never agreed to be exclusive to you!"
"I never said you were!" Hermione yelled back, her heart pounding, though admittedly, the thought of him shagging other girls did erk her. He wasn't, was he? How could he? He never left the dorm except for classes or patrols. Did he feel she was holding him back? "I never asked you to be. I don't want you to be! You think I would ever do the things I do with you with one of them?" She glared up at him.
Draco scoffed at the idea. "They wouldn't have the balls!" he told her. "You think one of those arrogant Gryffindors could ever get you off like I do?"
"No!" Hermione argued. "Not in a million years! But that doesn't mean I want you as my boyfriend. I don't want a boyfriend," she spat the word with disgust. Quite honestly, she didn't feel she was in a good head space for a relationship, with everything that happened with her parents, and now her substance abuse, which she was starting to recognize was a problem, but she didn't want to stop, and now, after the attack...
"Well good!" Draco said sharply. His anger seemed to be ebbing away gradually as his point was made. "Because I don't want a girlfriend."
"Good, because I don't want to be anyone's girlfriend."
"But I'm still going to shag your brains out every night," Draco stated rather than asked.
"You bloody well better."
"Fine," Draco stated curtly in conclusion.
"Fine."
The two stared at each other intently for a few moments, chests heaving as the adrenaline of their argument began to wane. Then, without a word, Draco retreated to Hermione's bedroom. He reappeared a moment later with Hermione's small wooden box. He sat himself on the couch next to Hermione and set the box down on the table in front of them.
"Really?" Hermione broke the silence to say, looking at Draco skeptically.
"You have a better idea for getting through the day?" She was the one who'd been attacked. She was the one who'd been violated.
Hermione sighed and shrugged. "No, I guess I don't. Here, I'll do it." She took the box and dumped out what was probably more than enough for the two of them. She separated the pile into two equal parts, then separated those two parts into thirds, until she had six piles, which she then began to spread, one by one, into thin lines. She figured it should last them a couple hours, at least.
The two took turns until the six lines were gone, and then Draco pushed Hermione's hair over her shoulder, revealing her neck to him. He leaned over and nibbled the soft skin there a few times, before biting down on her sharply.
Hermione cried out at the sudden pain, but it ended in a moan as she leaned into him, permitting his attack on her sensitive flesh. She whimpered as he bit her again, sucking hard on the captured patch of skin. "Malfoy," she whined. It hurt, but in the best way possible. She understood he was in a dark place, a needy place, and she didn't mind him taking that out on her, sexually. It was better than him screaming at her as he'd done a short while ago.
Draco released her neck, admiring the deep red spotty bruise that was already forming there. He loved that she let him do these things to her, trusted him to never go too far, to never actually cause her harm. She had to be the only person in the world who believed he didn't want to harm her, not really. She was an outlet for his rage, and she was perfect. "Take off your clothes," he ordered her.
Hermione didn't need to be told twice. Nervously and excitedly, Hermione pulled off her top and began to undo her jeans. The previous night was the first night they had gone without fooling around the whole term, and while she hadn't had any desire to have sex then, she was craving it even more now. She had barely kicked the denim off when he grabbed her and pulled her onto the couch. She squeaked as her head hit the seat cushion. While he was tugging down her satin knickers, Hermione reached behind her back and unclasped her bra.
"Fuck!" Hermione cried out when out of nowhere he bit down on her clit. But just as quickly he was sucking on the small nub and the pain was forgotten, replaced with a pleasure that made her legs spasm. "Oh yes," she moaned, pulling her legs up and locking her ankles loosely around his head. She tangled a fistful of fingers into his platinum hair while his tongue dove inside of her.
Draco devoured her, lapping at her tight cunt until until the combination of his saliva and her juices were dripping down his chin and between her cheeks. She tasted so good he didn't want to stop, but at the same time, his rigid cock was twitching with agitation, desperate to replace his tongue inside of her. He stuffed two fingers inside of her, curled into a hook shape to rub against her g-spot, and returned to sucking on her clitoris, pumping his fingers harshly inside of her.
Hermione squirmed, whimpered, and moaned. He was fingering her so hard she could hardly keep her hips on the couch, they kept trying to rise off the cushion to escape his assault. But her pointless attempts to escape only made Draco work harder, faster. Her body tensed, her toes curled. She sobbed out, begging for release for this torture.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She was coming hard, hot clear liquid pouring out of her and all over his chin. He chuckled, loving the way she only ever swore when she was in the throws of passion. The cushion underneath her was soaked by the time he finally removed his hand, and he slid the soak appendage up the length of Hermione's torso to play with her breast, effectively coating her in her own mess.
When Hermione felt his hand on her breast, her legs untangled from around his head, and fell to either side of him, going limp from the intensity of the task he'd just performed. Now that he was free to do so, Draco reached down and freed himself through the opening in his pants, and positioned his body between Hermione's legs. He pushed her legs up until her knees met her sides.
Hermione's body was still exhausted, but she was excited to see what he would do to her next. Instinctively, she put her arms around her legs, holding her feet in her hands towards the ceiling. Her hips burned from the unusual stretch, but she breathed through it, because a moment later he was inside of her. "Oh God," she gasped when his length slammed hard into her cervix. He was unyielding, taking out all his frustrations on her petite body.
Draco was on his knees, leaning forward and holding her thighs firmly against the couch cushion for leverage. The three lines had kicked in now, and he sniffed deeply, swallowing the drip in the back of his throat. He smirked down at her, pleased. He felt as though he could go all night, but the way her pussy squeezed him was making it hard for him to resist filling her to overflowing with his seed. Maybe she wouldn't notice if he just kept going?
"Bloody hell, you feel so good," he informed her, changing his pace slightly. She was milking him so hard, he couldn't hold back any longer, so he didn't. Remaining as steady as possible so that she wouldn't notice the difference, Draco came.
He kept up his pace without fail, the stimulant running through his veins helping to keep him hard and eager to continue. He chuckled for seemingly no reason as he watched Hermione underneath him, moaning and panting, completely unaware of anything but her own pleasure. He released her thighs, and Hermione dropped her heels immediately, defeated from the prolonged strain of her position. She chuckled deeply as well, her chest heaving and beaded with sweat. "I don't know how you keep-"
But her sentence was interrupted when Draco pulled her by her waist off of the couch, and lowered her onto her shoulders on the floor beside it, between it and the coffee table. When she found her balance there, Draco pushed the table away to give her more room, and positioned himself over her, and began to have his way with her again.
Hermione gasped and adjusted herself to the sudden and drastic change in position. She shifted slightly to find a better balance, so that her head laid more comfortably on the floor. She had barely settled herself before he was inside of her again. She'd never felt anything so deep. She wondered vaguely in her hazy, intoxicated, heightened state if it was the unusual alignment that sent him straight into her g-spot so fiercely. She cried out with each of his thrusts, unsure of just how much of it she could take.
Draco fed on the sounds she made, driving him to go harder, faster. His legs burned from the burden, but he couldn't stop. He pinned her legs together, her knees falling to her chest. After a few minutes, he spit a heavy coating of saliva onto his fingers, and rubbed it into the southern entrance that he'd gotten so fond of in the last couple of months. He didn't go there often, not wanting the novelty of it to wear, but she was just in such a prime position for it at the moment, he couldn't resist.
"Yes," Hermione agreed, understanding what he was about to do, and approving. It wasn't typically her first choice, but right now she could swear he was actually causing bruising to her uterus, and felt it could use a break. Let her colon take the beating for a while instead.
Draco hadn't actually been looking for her permission, as she'd never once said no to him before, but he was glad to have it all the same. In his excitement, he went back and forth, dipping into her ass, and then her pussy again, back and forth, enjoying the mix of sensations, before finally settling on her rear, just as she clearly wanted.
He didn't relent for quite some time. Not until Hermione was begging for it to be over. "I can't, I can't!" she kept repeating in surrender. Feeling rather satisfied with a job well done, Draco finally permitted himself to find his release once more. He pulled out this time, groaning as he spilled his milky substance all over her glistening wet pussy and anus alike.
Hermione fell limp once more. She'd never taken such a beating from him before. Every inch of her body tingled, and she felt like little more than jello. She slumped off to the side, and laid there on the floor.
"I think I need water," Hermione told him, her voice shaking because she was so out of breath just from taking it.
Draco laughed at that. He stepped over Hermione and moved to the kitchen on sore, stiff legs. He brought back two glasses of water and handed one to Hermione, who was just now pulling herself up into a proper sitting position. Draco took a long chug from his glass of ice cold water, which felt heavenly after all of the energy he'd just exerted drilling her into the floor, and sat down in front of the coffee table's temporary new location. He began cutting them fresh lines.
"Malfoy," Hermione chided after several gulps of life-giving water, when she noticed what he was doing.
"You're going to need the energy," He told her, knowing that the amount they'd used had to be at least halfway burned out by now. "You and I both need a shower." He turned to her with a devilish smirk.