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Trope Soup

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“Oh, bollocks .”

“Language, dear,” Narcissa said, lazily admonishing her son. “That’s no way for a well-bred young man to communicate. Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

Draco showed her the letter from Headmistress McGonagall.

“Congratulations, my darling, sweet boy!” She proceeded to pinch his cheeks, which Draco loathed. “You’re to be Head Boy!”

“Only because McGonagall wants to send a message about house unity, and moving forward, and second chances, and all that Gryffindor shite!”

“Language, Draco.”

He ignored her. “And that insufferable, swotty, talking wig is going to be Head Girl! I have to share a living space with her the entire year.”

Narcissa raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Do I need to say it?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “It’s the most painfully obvious thing in the entire world, but go ahead, Mother.”

“If you befriended this girl, or at least got along with her tolerably well, it would do wonders for our family’s name. Because you know, Draco, the Malfoy name—”

“Doesn’t carry the weight it once did. I bloody know , Mother.”

Narcissa narrowed her eyes at her son. “Is it worth my time to tell you yet again, to watch your tongue?”

“Probably not. I’m going swear, Mother. And if I’m going to have to share a room with the Mudblood Barracuda, I’m going to swear a lot .” What could he say? Aristocrat or not, it just sounded better when he swore. Why should peasants like Weasley get to have all the fun?

Narcissa’s eyes widened. “At the very least, let me recommend that you exercise caution when using the ‘M word,’ Draco. You don’t want to invite polite society’s ire anymore than our family already has.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Lovely, Mother. Such a clever way of saying my father was a murdering, raping, lying, cheating bastard.”

Narcissa rolled her eyes. “Head Boy or not, I can still send you to your room.”

“Good luck with that. I’m going to start packing now. My clothes are too nice and too expensive to trust packing to the last minute.”

Narcissa snarled. “Ponce.”



Draco sat patiently in the private carriage reserved for the Head Boy and Head Girl, waiting for Granger to come in all perfectly pressed, her brain recently bloated from memorizing every single word of every single textbook on her curriculum this year.

He didn’t have to wait long. The Gryffindor princess made her bloody arrival, but she wasn’t as he remembered her. She was riding high on the wave of hero worship, much like the dunces she called her best friends. Draco knew of “The Twat Who Lived” and the “King Weasley”—and for fuck’s sake, it was his own doing the knob had that knickname — Sticking it in every appreciative hole. The last thing the Malfoy heir expected was to see The Golden Girl also taking advantage of wizard Britain’s naive willingness to don War Hero Goggles.

Draco didn’t recognize her arm candy, but he most definitely wasn’t a student. He was older, muscular, and possessively grabbing her arse under her skirt.

“Holy shit, that skirt is short,” the gray-eyed Slytherin muttered to himself. Obviously, he was going to look at her arse if she was going to parade about in clothes that an 18-year-old witch wouldn’t mind being caught dead in. She left him with no other option, really.

Mystery man took it upon himself to shove Granger up against the carriage and wrap her legs around his waist. He practically dry humped her there as they said their goodbyes. Mouths sloppily connected with breathy moans barely escaping.

“Ahem,” Draco interrupted, though his voyeuristic side could have continued watching. “Sorry to be a cockblock, but we must be taking off.”

The tall, handsome man with exotic, mediterranean features scowled at the rude interruption. He turned back to Hermione. “So I’ll see you the next time you come through Hogsmeade?”

“Um, yeah. Sure…” She had already forgotten his name.


“Right.” She crashed her lips on his once more, apologizing for her misstep. “Ferret face, when’s the next Hogsmeade weekend?”

“How the bloody fuck should I know? I, like you, have been a Head student for all of ten minutes now.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’ll owl you.”

Thaddeus beamed at her, his brown eyes full of adoration. Draco waited until he was out of sight to speak. “So. You’re a whore now.”

“I’m an adult woman, in both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds, completely in tune with my sexuality, Malfoy. I know you pretentious purebloods have your prudish, double standards when it comes to sex, but I own my body.”

“Blah, blah, blah. All I heard was ‘I’m a whore, now.’”

“Oh, I get it. You haven’t gotten laid. All the prospects dried up after you were ousted as a Death Eater? I thought you would have some obligatory hole that you were supposed to procreate with by now.”

Draco sputtered. “I beg your fucking pardon, Granger. A gentleman never kisses and tells, and it’s not any of your business anyway.”

“Blah, blah, blah. All I heard was ‘I wank three times a day now that no one will fuck me.’”

His face turned red. “I...I... Goddammit , Granger! Why do you have to be such a bitch?”

“Did I hurt your feelings?”

No . I’m a Malfoy. Malfoys don’t get their feelings hurt.”

“Whatever. Just make sure to stay in your own room when you’re having a toss, Malfoy. I don’t fancy finding your spunk all over our living quarters.”

“I had no idea you had such a crass mouth.”

“Oh, my mouth is crass alright,” she said with a wink, hoping to make him even more uncomfortable than he already was.

Draco turned an ungodly shade of bright pink.


“What?” he sneered.

“You’ve never had a blow job. Wow,” she sounded stunned. “I knew those pureblood princesses were uptight, but damn.”

Draco sputtered some more. “I...I have had so many blow jobs , Granger.” He began to pepper his lies with unconvincing little barks of nervous laughter. “So many mouths on my cock, you can’t even imagine. Better mouths than yours. Crass bitch.”

Hermione grinned wickedly. “You see, Malfoy, that’s the thing. I can imagine it, because, unlike you, I actually have been involved in the process. And for your information, you’d be lucky to have me. They don’t call me the Brightest Witch of My Age for nothing.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “I suppose you’re right. After all, you never do seem to shut that trap of yours. I guess the only way to shut you up is to stuff a dick in it.”

Their fight began to heat up. So obviously , Hermione’s knickers were soaked and Draco had a hard on.

“Damn, it could be weeks until that Hogsmeade weekend,” she quickly changed the subject. “I hope I packed enough batteries. I just can’t see fucking anyone at this school. Everyone is so young.

Draco smirked. “That’s right, Granger. I forget that you’re a year older than the rest of us. Shame that. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you’re an old hag, Granger.”

“It’s called experienced, Malfoy. I can’t help it if I’ve always been attracted to older men. I wonder if we’ll be getting any new, younger professors…”

“That would be what gets you off, Granger. Maybe you’ll finally take being a prissy little teacher’s pet to the next level.”

With a crooked smile, she said, “Well, I did hear your old mate, Montague, was going up for the DADA position…”

“You can’t fuck Montague.” His voice was stern, and words curt.

She laughed incredulously. “Oh, I can’t , can I? And why is that?”

He honestly had no idea. He just didn’t want her to. “Call me sentimental, Granger, but I’d rather keep him as a friend. That will not be possible if I walk in on you guys in the loo with your crass little mouth on his cock.”

“Who’s not to say it’s his mouth between my legs? I believe in equality, after all.”

Holy hormones. It was a testament to how much he detested the girl that he was still dedicated to their fight. Imagining Granger giving and receiving oral sex gave him the most inexplicably painful boner of his life.

“You know, Pansy, Astoria, and a couple of other girls from your house would talk in the bathrooms how you were some sex god. But I just don’t see it. You’re so stiff. With your poncy clothes and consistently upright posture. Even when you’re on a broom, you’re so... stiff.”

He was stiff alright. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Granger. But I kind of want to fuck you right now.”

She snorted. “As if that would ever happen.”

He smirked. “ You’re the one waxing poetic about my abundant stiffness.”

She grimaced. “ Ugh . You are just the most...the’re so…”

“Stiff?” he offered, with his characteristic smirk. Smirk, smirk, smirk. Smirky, smirk, smirk. Take that, Granger .

The carriage came to a halt as did their battle of the sexes. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall, greeted the heads. Her stern nature quickly deflated Draco’s raging hardon.

“Oh, good. You’re both here. I will need your assistance in a matter of some sensitivity. We have just received a Patronus from Minister Shacklebolt. It appears there is to be a new law implicated that will affect every Hogwarts student in their seventh and eighth year. I am counting on you both to ensure that whenever the students inevitably start to riot, the damage will be somewhat mitigated.”

“What sort of law, Professor?” Hermione asked.

Her face fell. “I suppose I should tell both of you since you will also be affected. The war diminished the number of witches and wizards in Britain dramatically. So in an effort to regain our numbers, the Ministry has declared that all unmarried or affianced witches and wizards between the ages of seventeen and forty will be forced to marry a partner that has been chosen for them by an objective method to ensure compatibility.”

“Oh, Thank Merlin. I’m already promised to Astoria Greengrass,” Draco sighed in relief.

“About that. Carson Greengrass dissolved the contract today and she is now betrothed to Evan Montague, as you remember, he’s Graham’s little brother.” McGonagall explained, incredibly tactless.

“Well. That sucks tremendously,” Draco intoned. “What exactly is this ‘objective method’ the Ministry is using to ensure we get paired with someone compatible?”

“The Sorting Hat,” she answered.

Hermione howled in laughter. “Well that old rag is one of the most inconsistent relics of the past.”

“And it saved your life, twice. I would suggest you show it some respect, Miss Granger.”

“Sorry, Proff—Headmistress,” Hermione regained her composure. “It’s just that the hat put Snape in Slytherin and Pettigrew in Gryffindor. It nearly hatstalled on me and hatstalled on your and Professor Flitwick. How can we trust this with our future spouse? And furthermore, you mentioned under forty...Does this mean we will bring in some, um, more mature suitors to this sorting ?”  

Draco rolled his eyes. “ Whore ,” he coughed.

“I like men , Malfoy. Not boys,” she scowled, “just like you look prissy aristocrats who are under contract to have sex with you.”

“Yeah, well. You and Graham Montague have that in common, in case you were wondering.”

Shut up both of you!” Professor McGonagall said. “Can I count on you two or not?”

They both shrugged noncommittally. “Yeah,” Hermione said.

“Sure,” Draco said.

“Good.” She fixed them with a mean glare. “ Please don’t make me regret putting you two together.”

“Professor,” Hermione asked, her voice suddenly sweet. “I was just wondering, as many of the eighth years are over the age of seventeen, will we get additional privileges? Visiting Hogsmeade beyond assigned weekends, perhaps?”

“She just wants to bone Theseus, Professor.”

Thaddeus , you pointy little prat!”

“You sure about that?” He raised an eyebrow at her in a question.

 She growled. Damn him. She actually wasn’t super duper 100% sure.


 The Sorting Ceremony was the first ten minutes of Saving Private Ryan. Everyone hated everyone.

 And of goddamned course, Draco and Hermione got paired together.


“This is fucking bullshit,” Hermione huffed. “I’m so not marrying you, let alone fucking you. Or, proposition. We marry, we have an open marriage. I sleep with whoever I want, you sleep with whoever you want.”

He rolled his eyes, bored listening to her shrill propositions. “You are marrying me and fucking me, and there’s not a damned thing either of us can do about it. Unless you’d rather have your wand snapped in half.”

She narrowed her eyes and muttered under her breath something about “ know what I’d rather snap in half .”

“Oh, come on, Granger. Just this morning you fantasizing about how stiff I am. We have to make several babies together, so this is basically a dream come true for you. I know I’m a bit young for you, but my cock still works.”

“First of all, how dare you? Second of all, I wasn’t talking about your cock. I was talking about all of that,” Her hands circled his whole body. “You’re too pretentious, you’re no fun, at all. And the fucking suits. What is with the fucking suits? Are you training to be an evil CEO or something?”

Draco let several seconds of silence build between them. “ Neh , you were so talking about my cock.”

Hermione’s eye began to twitch. “You are gaahhhh ! I can’t do this. I can’t marry you.”

“I’m so glad the Sorting Hat decided to give me a level-headed, chill wife who definitely doesn’t blow things out of proportion and create unnecessary drama. Relax, princess. I’m not exactly thrilled about this either. Now…” he straightened the collar on his shirt like he meant business. “If you’ll go in your room and take off your clothes, we can get started on this baby-making thing.”

In a bold, Gryffindor, intimidation tactic, she started stripping in front of him. “Sure, Malfoy. Let’s do this.” Her tie was already on the ground as she started unbuttoning her shirt, freeing her red lace-clad breasts.

It was working. Draco just stood there in shock.

She raised a haughty eyebrow. “Should I start without you, Malfoy, or do you plan on removing your clothes too?”

He gaped, wide-eyed at his future wife. Not wanting to ruin his chances with whatever her crazy bitch mood she was in would let him get away with, he began scrambling to remove his clothes until he stood before her in just his boxers. “Alright, princess. Let’s do this thing.”

She took a step towards him. “Oh, we’re doing it, alright, Malfoy. You and I. We’re going to do it.”

“Yup,” he said, enunciating the ‘p’ with a pop. “I’m finally going to shag you stupid, Granger. A little late, I know, but better late than never.”

Playing coy, all but her thong panties and balconnet bra on, she began caressing herself. Kneading her breasts and trailing her hand down her apex. “You’re all talk. I’ve already gotten started.”

Fuck. She was playing him hard. He hadn’t even laid a hand on her and she was already fingering herself. At this rate, he was going to cream his pants before he so much as kissed her. “Nope. That’s not how this goes.” He crossed the room to her and grabbed her by the wrists.

Holy hormones. Maybe this aggressive Malfoy wasn’t so bad after all. Hermione shook herself to regain the upper hand. “I bet the second my lips are on your cock, you’re going to blow your load.”

Duuuurrrr… what ? Using every ounce of Slytherin, pureblood, and Malfoy cunning he possessed, he managed to keep his face blank. “I prefer my women with their mouths washed out, Granger. Yours might be a bit too dirty for me.”

She smirked, “Oh, Malfoy. All those years you called me filthy. If only you knew how filthy. You couldn’t handle it.”

He seethed. “So just do it, bitch. I dare you. Put your filthy little Mudblood mouth on my pristine, perfect, pureblood cock and prove me wrong.”

The one thing Gryffindors hated most was being called chicken. She practically ripped the silk boxers in half. The swot grinned as he gasped at his clothing being ruined.

“Oi, those were bloody expensii— ahhh

Her tongue trailed from his balls, up his shaft to his tip. His ‘perfect, pureblood cock,’ was her lollipop. She swirled her tongue around his head, feeling it tremble at her ministrations. When satisfied he was under her spell, she shoved the whole damn thing in her mouth, burying it deep down her throat.

Oh, my god, I’m doing it. I’m actually sucking Draco Malfoy’s cock. Okay, Hermione. Focus. No big deal. You’re just giving Malfoy a blow job. It doesn’t have to be a big thing.

Draco could barely string coherent thoughts together. Herm...Grang...fucking swot’s sucking my...ahhh...fuck yeah. Ahhh, Merlin, yes, you little swot. Just like that.!

Whilst sucking his cock, she started to get the worst lockjaw. Fucking cold ass castle. Fucking Scotland. Damn, I might have to start wearing my headgear again.  “My turn. Eat my pussy.”

YEESSSS!!!! Panting heavily, Draco looked down at her through narrow slits. “You think I won’t do it. You think I won’t want to stick my tongue in your filthy twat.” He smirked, evilly. “Joke’s on you, princess. Quim happens to be my favorite food.” He fell on top of her, shifting her onto her back and yanking her thong down her legs.

“Nice to see you trim your snatch, Granger. I do so hate for anything to get in my way.”

“Just do it, you slimy little prick.”

“Slimy with your spit, Granger. Or have you forgotten already? I knew the ‘Brightest Witch of Her Age’ had to be hyperbole.”

DO IT! ” She huffed. The fucking ferret talked too much. Thad...or was it Chad...Maybe David...Whatever his cock was, was DOWN TO FUCK. He didn’t bother with incessant chatter and ate pussy like a good boy.

“Eager, aren’t you?” He spread her legs and dove in.

She tasted like pussy. Not honey, or cinnamon, or any of those other barmy desserty flavors the bloody romance novels tried to advocate should be a woman’s taste. No. She tasted like good, old-fashioned pussy. Which was just fine with Draco, because he happened to love the taste of pussy.

She gripped his white blond locks and didn’t give two fucks about the color of his eyes. Hermione ground her snatch as hard as she could against his pointy face. Much to her delight, that aristocratic nose of his lined up nicely with her clit.

“Oh god, Malfoy!” She panted. “You’re finally good for something.”

“Shut up, bitch,” he said, momentarily pulling back before diving in again.

You shut the fuck up and slip a damn finger or something up there. I need more.”

Never ceasing in his feasting, he held up his middle finger and flipped her off before sticking it, along with the index finger of the same hand, up her vagina.

“Fuck yes, harder,” she commanded. “Curl your fingers...yes. Like that.”

Draco came up for air and glared at her. “Will you shut your goddamned trap and focus on coming sometime this century, Granger? As much fun as I’m having down here, I would like to fuck you before we both turn gray.”

“Well, if you want me to come quickly, I can do it my goddamned self.”

For a moment he considered it. But he didn’t think he’d be able to witness her fingering herself without exploding all over the place. “ I’ll be the one making you come, Granger.” His tongue flicked over her clit as he spelled out the following:


Aaaannnd...she was coming.

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHhhh,” she gripped his hair tightly as her juices dripped down his lips and chin. Because, obviously, she was a squirter. What else could she possibly be? There had to be juices.

“WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK!” Draco almost screamed wiping her lady cum off his face. “Did you pee on me?”

“No, you arsehole. I squirt. Do you not know what the female ejaculation is?”

Suddenly intrigued, “Not all women do that, do they?”

“No. Only certain women, and they’re usually more in tune with their bodies. But I’m still horny. Are you going to fuck me or what?” She panted, still not satiated after her first orgasm.

“Oh, are you sure you want my 18-year-old cock? Will it offend you that my pubes haven’t turned gray yet?”

She grimaced. “You’re the fucking worst. Just fuck me or don’t, Malfoy.”

“If you would shut your mouth for once in your life , Granger, I will fuck you. But if you keep talking, I’m going to lose my erection.”

“Some men like talking during sex,” her voice became deep and throaty, “Oh, Draco. I’m so fucking wet. I need that thick hard cock of yours in my pussy. Let me taste myself on your lips.”



Maybe he didn’t mind it when she talked. He lined himself up in front of her entrance. “If you’re still capable of talking after I’m through with you, Granger, then I will consider it a failure on my part.”

Hermione chuckled. “You probably won’t even-- oh fuck !”

Draco shut his eyes as he sheathed himself inside her tight, wet, heat. Her velvet walls. Her scorching cavern. What-the-fuck-ever smut novels wanted to call it. He was getting laid. “Just stop talking and take my cock, princess.”

“Mmm. So you don’t want me to tell you this feels fucking delicious? That I want you pound me until I see stars? And that I want to ride you like a firebolt?” She eked out between moans and thrusts.

Draco was trying very hard not to blow his load right then. Between being inside her and hearing her talk, his dick was about to explode. “Say whatever you want, Granger,” he panted. “Just as long as you let me fuck you.” He pounded into her harder, as she requested. “ Gods ! Where the fuck do you come from with a pussy like that? It’s like you’re choking the life out of me.”

“If only,” she gasped.

“Merlin, you’re such a bitch.” He pounded into her even harder.

Stars were certainly seen. But she wasn’t done playing the dominant role. She flipped him over and slapped him across the face, with even more fervor than she had in third year. Slapping was most definitely a kink of hers.

He hissed through his teeth and smoldered up at her with stormy eyes. “Again,” he demanded.

As she complied with his request, again and again, at some point it occurred to her, that of all the filthy things she and Malfoy had done to each other in the past hour or so, they hadn’t kissed once. Sure, she’d sucked his cock, and fucked his face, and slapped him repeatedly as she rode him into the floor, but she had yet to kiss him.

She leaned over to capture his lips. It was hard and messy. Their tongues tangled and their teeth clashed. They kissed to bruise--to hurt. She broke the kiss with a sharp bite to his lower lip.

The metallic taste of his blood in her mouth tasted like victory.

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, you’re a bad girl, aren’t you, Granger?” He sat up and gripped her hair—her frizzy, ratty hair that would have made her look like a poodle with mange if her face wasn’t half-way okay to look at. The Daily Prophet, in their plethora of Golden Trio-knob-polishing pieces they wrote this summer, described her hair as ‘lustrous curls,’ ‘smooth ringlets,’ and ‘glossy waves.’ It was bollocks, all of it. Her hair was bushy, and frizzy, and in his first act as her husband, he would be introducing her to a little thing called ‘conditioner.’ But he really didn’t give a shit, right now.

He pulled at her hair and she leaned back, exposing her neck to him. He pulled the skin of her neck in between his lips and teeth. “Look at that. Your appalling hair is good for something.”

She upped the ante and socked him in the jaw, “Fuck you.”

He grinned darkly and flipped her over, in a position she couldn’t continue to attack him. Draco grabbed both of her hands with one hand and pinned them over her head. With his free hand, he continued to grgrab fistfulsf her hair. He was determined to gain dominance. “Temper. Temper. I thought you would like my face looking pretty on the wedding day. Your arse on the other hand, is another story.” He splayed his palm wide and gave her backside a hard smack.

“Again,” she pleaded.

“Gladly.” His hand came down and made a stinging impact once again with the soft skin of her arse. He rubbed the area in a gesture that was deceptively soothing. He inched his ministrations closer to the middle of her arse and ran his fingers over the area teasingly. “Has anyone ever fucked you here, little miss ‘comfortable with my sexuality’?” He smacked her arse again.

Hermione bit her lip in a whimper.

“Because it’s always good to know if you’re the first. Maybe not tonight, but at some point, I’m going to fuck this pert little arse and see if I can’t find that stick you’ve kept lodged up there all these years.”

She was almost ashamed to admit, considering she’s been flaunting her experience all day, she answered, “Only fingers,” she moaned again under his intense thrusting, “and a plug...ugh...once.”

Holy fuck.  That was still more than he was expecting. But it was at least one thing he could claim as his own.

“You like my cock, Granger? I think you do. You’d like it a damn sight better than ‘fingers’ or a ‘plug,’ I can guarantee you that.”

“I thought you didn’t like to talk,” she bit at him.

He snickered silkily, smacking her smart arse once again. “I said I didn’t like it when you talked.” She’d proven him wrong on that score, as he very much liked many of the filthy things that had fallen out of her mouth this evening, but he wasn’t about to tell her that.

“Are you going to make me come again, or not?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know, you’d be the perfect fuck if you just learned that there is a time and a place for nagging. Save it for when we’re actually married. And for your future reference, when I’m balls deep in you is the wrong time to be nagging me.” He obediently dragged his finger to her clit all the same.

Goddamned bitch. He shouldn’t do it. But he would anyway because he was going to be shagging her for the rest of his life. He might as well start off on the right foot.

In appreciation, she arched her back more. For a moment, he thought she must have been some kind of yogi with how flexible she was. His dick somehow managed to go deeper down her sweet snatch with that subtle tilt. She was inching closer to that second orgasam. The dam he’d basically mentally Spellotaped shut was ready to burst. He turned her back around, pulled her back up to his chest, and rocked his hips as he nipped at her neck. They were both close.

Having her this close had so many advantages. Two of those advantages had rosy pink nipples and bounced tantalizingly against his chest. Bending his neck at an uncomfortable angle that he immediately knew would be worth it, he took on in his mouth and sucked.

She came so hard she went momentarily cross-eyed.

Her walls clenched around his cock causing his guard to finally drop. Draco tensed and shook, “Ho-ly-fuck.” With deep thrusts he let his orgasm ride out. “Fuck. You. Ugh. Yes.”

It was all incoherent nonsense.

The two of them collapsed onto the floor, each boneless and sated.

“Well. That was fun,” Hermione said.

Draco still hadn’t regained the ability to close his mouth. His face was smashed into the carpet but he didn’t care. “Yeah.”

And Merlin, Almighty. It was supposed to be a dare. Neither ever imagined that they’d actually go through with it.

As Draco got a better grip on his mental faculties, he found himself grinning fondly at his fiancee.

Maybe...just maybe...this wouldn’t be so bad.

Hermione bit her lip as she looked up at the ceiling. For all her braggadocio about her experience, Draco did the one thing to her she didn’t believe he’d ever be capable of.

He made her feel like a slut.

She sighed. Sweet Merlin it was great. Her policy on ‘mature dick’ would need to be rethought.

Actually, yeah. It would definitely need to be rethought because she was marrying Draco.

She shuddered, still unused to the idea. A sudden, unbidden thought of a lifetime of little fights that morphed into hot sex entered her mind. She smiled and stole a glance at her fiance.

A line of drool had partially escaped his open mouth. His eyes were glassy and unfocused. Good job, Hermione! You fucked him good.

Maybe life with Draco Malfoy wouldn’t be so bad.

The two locked eyes and in that moment, neither remembered why they had ever objected to the Sorting Hat putting them together. Draco smiled and licked his lips. “…, do you have a preference? Emerald cut, round cut, marquis, or are you more into the modern cushion cut?”

“Believe it or not, I do have a preference,” Hermione traced her fingers down his chest. “Emerald, setting in an art deco design. Vintage.”

“Shit. That’s specific.”

“It’s my grandmother’s. Meaning you’ll have to ask my mother for it.”

Of fucking course. No. I couldn’t be one of the plethora of rings sitting in the Malfoy, Black, or Lestrange vaults. It HAD to be from her family. It will be sooooo much fun telling the muggles they are engaged in an arranged marriage.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to utter the fateful phrase, “ Whatever you want, Granger ,” the two were interrupted by a haughty, silver, cat Patronus.

They each blinked dumbly at the Patronus while they were both totally naked.

It cleared its throat before speaking in Headmistress McGonagall’s voice. “Good evening. I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

They both snorted. Understatement of the year. It interrupted a lot of things. Draco had wanted to cuddle before the Patronus showed up. Hermione wanted another go at sucking Draco’s cock.

“I have just been informed by Minister Shacklebolt that, after reviewing it, the Wizengamot has determined that the Marriage Law is completely and utterly ridiculous, not to mention one-hundred percent unethical. It has been rescinded. You both will be happy to know that you will not need to marry one another. Good evening.”

After the Patronus disappeared, they each stared off into the distance for some time.

“Oh, thank God,” Hermione exclaimed. “No offense, Malfoy. You’re a fantastic lay, but I really can’t imagine our demon spawn.”

He grimaced. The spell was broken and there she was...Hermione Granger. Totally and utterly unendurable. “If we ever did procreate, they should throw us in Azkaban just as a pre-emptive ‘fuck you’ for bringing this person into the world.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Get the fuck to your room, Malfoy.”


They both stomped off to the respective rooms and slammed the doors.

Draco couldn’t believe what happened, but at least he knew he would have a good night’s sleep. A good shag always gives him sweet dreams.


“Draco,” his mother called. “Wake up.”

He looked around to find himself back at his room in the manor. “What the—”

“Language,” Narcissa scolded. “We have a few things to discuss before you head back to school today, including your fiancee. My cousin is being so obnoxious about the dowry.”

He wiped the sleep from his eyes. Draco wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming.

“Draco. Get dressed. Sirius and Hermione Black will be here within an hour.”

What the fuck?

Chapter Text

“Hermione Black?” Draco questioned groggily.


“Dear, did you hit your head while you were sleeping? Yes. Hermione Black. Your second cousin and girl you’ve fancied since she was sorted into Slytherin. But of course it is all forgivable in the aristocratic realm,” she patted his forehead, checking for fever. “Granted her father was blasted off the tree, but that will all be forgiven once our houses merge.”


Draco sort of remembered this being true. He wasn’t one hundred percent awake yet, and was still a tad disoriented from his dream. “Sure. Our children probably won’t be insane. Going to family reunions to pick up women is a family tradition.”


“Draco. Enough of your insolence. Honestly, let’s get you a coffee,” She huffed. “Dobby!”


“Dobby?” Draco scratched his head wondering how he was still in possession of an elf that not only left his house during his second year but turned into an elf-kabob by his aunt.


(R.I.P. Dobby. What is dead may never die.)(I’m pouring my 40 right now.)


“Mistress calls Dobby?” Gigantic orbs of terror stared at the two haughty Malfoys


Draco rolled his eyes. House elves were so ugly. It wasn’t the nicest thing to wake up to, especially when he had to wake up from a dream about eating his fiancee’s (apparently) pussy. It was as close as he was likely to get any time soon, because the girl’s knickers might have been made of solid gold, as protective as she was of them.


“Dobby. Bring Master Draco a strong cup of coffee, black, he’s had too much sugar lately, and a piece of buttered toast. No need to over indulge. The Blacks will be here shortly.”


“Dobby likes Miss Black. Will Mistress Black be joining Miss and Master Black?” His grin was one that evoked nightmares, despite him attempting to be sweet and eager.


Narcissa rolled her eyes, “No. The muggle Mistress has been called on some dental emergency for the Queen,” she turned and muttered to Draco, “Or so she says.”


Draco had never met Hermione’s mother. It was fine. He didn’t care, either way. All he knew was that she did something barbaric with teeth and that Hermione wouldn’t exist without her. His gratitude to the Muggle extended exactly that far. He didn’t care more than that.


“Such a shame, I like her.” The elf looked saddened, as if someone told him he wasn’t allowed to do the laundry after quidditch practice.


“Dobby. How do you know Mistress Black?” Narcissa’s eyes narrowed as she towered over the elf, suddenly looking twenty feet tall.


“Dobby...uh...Coffee! Toast! Right away!” and off he popped.


“I’ve been telling you for years, Mother, you should give Dobby a sock. He’s a nutter.”


“Don’t be cheeky, darling. It’s so middle-class of you. Now get out of bed, put some clothes on, and do something about... that ,” she said, pointing to the tent in Draco’s trousers.


Mother! Don’t look at it.”


She rolled her eyes. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, darling. I did give birth to you, after all.”


Draco rolled his eyes. “With all due respect, Mother, get the fuck out. I’m not going to do something about my morning boner with you in here.”


She muttered under her breath something about ‘ brought you into this world, and I can take you out of it ’ and promptly left the room, closing the door behind her.


Draco sighed happily, thinking about the wealth of wank potential he had before him. What should he think about? So many options. So little time.


He should probably think about Hermione. But he didn’t know what her tits or anything looked like, so he’d just have to improvise. He could think about that delightful dream he had last night, but he didn’t want to set himself up for disappointment, knowing that Dream Hermione was nothing like the one he was engaged to.


Draco did what all boys probably do when they wank, and just thought about tits. Big, bouncing, firm, luscious tits with pretty pink nipples hardened in his mouth. He didn’t craft some elaborate scene or imagine her eyes or her flushed skin, or her breathy moans. He just thought about tits. It was all he needed, really. Because...Boobs.


“Ahhh. Okay. That’s done. I say , where is Dobby with my infernal coffee?”


Pop! Dobby appeared with the miserable breakfast his mother ordered. It looked like it was prepared for an inmate or a hospital patient, not the bloody heir to the Manor. “Dobby is bringing Master Draco’s breakfast.”  The clever little elf had hidden some sausages under the napkin, and maaaaaaybe something to calm his mind.


It was pot. Dobby hid pot under a napkin for Draco to have with his breakfast. Because Dobby was a motherfucking champ and a god amongst house elves.


“That’s awfully nice of you, Dobby, old boy. I take back what I said about Mother giving you socks.”




“Nothing. Off you go, Dobby. It’s rude to linger.”


“Master Draco. Master Longbottom said, That shit is strong and to hit it slowly. ” He instructed his master.


“Now, Dobby. What do I always say about Master Longbottom?”


Dobby stood up straight and cleared his throat as if reciting something he only barely remembered. “ Master Longbottom is a cunt and a talentless toad who people are only nice to because he grows the best shit.


Draco’s face lit up. “ Very good, Dobby. I believe that deserves a treat.” He ducked under his bed to find his textbooks for the upcoming term at Hogwarts. “You may do my homework, Dobby.”


His enormous fucking eyes—like seriously, what in the magical, evolutionary, or celestial realm created such a creature?— peered at him with unbridled joy. “Master Draco, when you and Mistress Hermione get married, I will gladly mind your home, if you let me, sir.”


“Do you have tits, Dobby?”


The house elf looked rather like...a SUPER ugly look on an already unseemly creature. “What is Master Draco meaning?”


“Are you able to act as wet nurse when Hermione births my heirs? Because what we really need is one of those. I can’t have the little brats deflating my hot young bride’s breasts, now can I?” Only he would be allowed to suck on them. But only in like...a sex way.


Dobby looked devastated. He had failed. No matter how good of an elf he was to Master Draco, he could never fulfill that duty. “Dobby is not able to breastfeed the illustrious children of Master Draco and Mistress Black. Dobby will go put his head in the oven now.”


Draco shrugged. “It’s not necessary, but fine. I only meant, that you are more than welcome to come serve us, but your first act as our servant would be to find us a wet nurse. Surely you can do that, yes?”


Dobby might have been bipolar. Seriously. Nobody should be able to go through so many emotions in such a short period of time. He looked positively overjoyed at the prospect of fulfilling such a chauvinistic task. “Dobby would be honored to--”


“Dobby, I don’t mean to be rude, but could you please fuck off now? I need to get dressed and I’ll need at least an hour to properly do my hair before I’ll be ready to see Hermione?”


“Of course, Master Draco, sir!” With a salute and a pop, Dobby was off.


Draco sighed. “Yeah. He’ll definitely have to go.”



Sirius and Hermione  sat in the drawing room awaiting Draco’s arrival. Narcisssa had come around to the fact Hermione was a half-blood. In fact, after speaking to her dog breeders, they thought that introducing some new blood would be good for the bloodline. Thankfully the other line was her line. God forbid more of Lucius’ line was just so blond it was blinding at times. Fingers crossed the Black line would prevail. At least they had a SUPER ORIGINAL tradition of naming their children after constellations. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be named Caelum or Cygnus? What little girl didn’t dream of being named ‘Cassiopeia’ so little boys on the playground could call them ‘Pee-pee’ and pull their pigtails? These names weren’t a mouth full at all .


“Cissy,” Sirius smirked. “Looking lovelier than ever. So how many souls did you have to absorb to stay looking so young?”


Lucius interjected, “Sirius, how many wolves did you have to fuck befor finding your mud—”


“Civility, gentlemen,” she glared at the men before looking sweetly at Hermione. She was quite proud of herself for doing such an excellent job looking unperturbed at Sirius’s comment because there was absolutely no way he would know about the jar of baby-soul face cream she kept in her vanity upstairs. Worth every Galleon.


Hermione was mortified. “Will Draco be down soon? I would love to walk in the gardens with him. It’s such a lovely day.” What seventeen-year-old couple wouldn’t want to walk in the gardens out in the open and do nothing sexual at all? Draco’s balls would be a brilliant blue to match the lovely bluebells that just came in. Simply pictur-fucking-esque.


“Go ahead, dear. I’ll tell him to meet you outside,” she nodded.


Hermione curtseyed to her future in-laws and kissed her father on the cheek, before heading out to the illustrious Malfoy Gardens.


After the girl had left, Lucius asked, “Sirius, chap. How exactly did a well-bred pureblood like yourself marry a muggle, let alone one that produced a Slytherin.”


“Well, it was Jean’s hen-do, and she was drunk. Remus and I took her home and double-teamed her. We found out she was pregnant and I knew it was mine, because I was the only one who came in her cunt. Remus came in her mouth and my...anyway…” He trailed. “Well. After that, I did the right thing and married her, after she called off her engagement, of course. I knew she was the one for me because he had the mouth like a Hoover and three holes total to fuck.”


“Romantic,” Narcissa scoffed. “And your Slytherin spawn?”


“Oh, Jean’s a total bitch. Ruthless. Ambitious. Seriously, if she had magic, she’d eat you alive.” He thinks fondly of his wife, “Merlin, I want to fuck her right now.”


“She wouldn’t eat me alive, because I don’t swing that way,” Narcissa said.


Lucius looked mournfully into the distance. “She really doesn’t. I’ve tried.”


“Such a shame Cissy. You have no idea what you’re missing out. Sexual freedom is liberating. Dicks and pussies everywhere.”


“Do you tell that to your daughter?” Lucius asked.


Sirius snorted. “ Merlin , no. If your son lays so much as a pinky finger on her bathing suit area, I’ll rip his head off and piss down his throat.”


“Charming,” Narcissa drawled.


Draco walked down to the drawing room, high as fuck, surprised not to see his fiancee eagerly awaiting his arrival. He walked over to his future father-in-law and said in his most clear, concise, aristocratic manner, “Ey bruv.”


“Fuck, you’re stoned,” Sirius laughed. He leaned in to sniff Draco’s clothes, “Longbottom.”


“SHHHH,” he whispered loudly, “MY PARENTS DON’T KNOW I SMOKE POT.”


“We know everything, Draco. We are very well-informed people,” Lucius said haughtily. “You’re woefully conspicuous for a Slytherin, Draco.”


Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Draco. I wish you wouldn’t smoke. How are you ever going to get to be Head Boy if you spend every weekend in detention?”


No one had seen her sneak back into the room. Damn, she really was a Slytherin.


Draco didn’t really want to be Head Boy, but he didn’t want to crash his fiancee’s fantasy. “Don’t worry about it, love,” he said, booping her on the nose.


“I was out in the gardens, but there were so many damn gnomes. The infestation is horrid. That and the loud peacock fuc—procreating.” She was mindful not to swear in front of the Malfoys.


Narcissa gasped in horror. “We really should fire our gardener. We can’t have people thinking we’re no better than those wretched Weasleys with their decrepit garden and rampant gnomes taking over the place.”


Draco shrugged. “I’ll do it for you if you wish, Mother. I’m very good at devastating the help. I’ll do it this weekend, if you’d like.”


Narcissa clutched her pearls at the strange word. “My dear boy, what is a ‘week end?’”


Hermione made a mental note not to be such a spoiled, out-of-touch little princess when she was Lady of the Manor. “Draco, would you like to take a turn through the garden with me?”


Draco nodded. He wished she would let him touch her boobs. But she wouldn’t, so in the garden he would stroll.



In the garden, Hermione’s long ebony locks swayed to and fro. Her elegant robes she had worn for the occasion we so fucking unflattering. He loved it when she would wear the occasional pair of muggle jeans—at least he would get a better look at her figure. That said, he was also quite taken with her uniform skirt and knee socks. Occasionally , she would let her guard down and he would get a flash of panty. Damn, the last he saw her legs was when ‘someone’ ‘accidentally’ spilled pumpkin juice down her legs forcing her to rip off her knee socks.


“Draco?” she asked softly before resting her head on his shoulder. This felt odd, because he didn’t remember her being so tall. “After our parents discuss the terms of the betrothal contract, it will be real. I’ll be yours…”


“You’re already mine,” he said, kissing her knuckles. He knew it was the right thing to say. Witches were bloody mental how they set wizards up to say the exact perfect things to them and if you failed to do it, you’d somehow be in trouble.


“No. I mean yours.” her chocolate pools (because obviously) stared into his stormy skies, or however the fuck you want to describe brown and grey eyes (I’d call it weird, mom has grey eyes and I’m pretty sure it means she belongs to the Devil.)(I have brown eyes and they are basic as fuck.) Because fucking color analogies. Because reasons. Because Dramione tropes.


Mine? As in…” Holy fuck. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? “Hermione...are you ready to…?”


“To let you fuck me, yes.”


Draco wanted to punch the air in victory and leap in joy. “Let’s go to my room—NOW.”




The parents were laughing after drinking their fourth firewhisky.  


“Alright, alright. Never have I ever, been fingered in the asshole…” Sirius asked. He was the only one to take the drink. “Fuck. Cissy. Lucius. How the fuck are you still married?” He turned slyly to Lucius. “I don’t believe this one at all. He looks like he’s taken a finger or three up there at some point, am I right, Lucius?”


Lucius rolled his eyes and took a sip. “Fine. Fine. We called them revels. It’s when the DEs would get bored. When we didn’t have any women with us...well...I was the prettiest.”


“You sure are, dear,” Narcissa said, holding her glass up to toast her husband’s comment. She was absolutely wasted.


“Fuck,” Sirius slurred. “Why am I here? Something about a dowry and signing something. Fuck. Why am I letting my precious baby girl get sucked down the incest hole?”


“She and Draco like each other,” Narcissa said with a shrug.


“Yeah. Why is that?” Sirius asked. “I offense...but your son is a cunt. And again . No disrespect. Just stating a fact. Hermione is a sweet little princess and Draco’s basically a human shit stain. I tried to push her towards James and Lily’s son, Harry, you know, my godson , but she insisted she fancies Draco.”


Narcissa shrugged again. “He’s pretty.”


Sirius scoffed. “Fuck yeah, he’s pretty. He wouldn’t make it ten seconds in Azkaban, let me tell you. A piece of arse like that…” His gaze became unfocused and he bit his lip contemplatively.


Lucius cleared his throat. “Will you desist from opening lusting after our son, your future son-in-law, please? know. If it’s not too much to ask.”


Sirius raised his hands in faux-surrender. “Okay, fucking fine. Sorry. I didn’t realize you people were such prudes about that kind of thing. I thought incest was what you people lived for.”


“You did sound a bit rapey there for a second, Sirius, dear,” Narcissa said, finishing off her glass of Firewhisky and tapping the glass, indicating her cousin was to refill it.


“Alright, negotiation time,” he poured her more than she should intake. “Hermione has a shit ton of inheritance. Draco has a shit ton too. IF you want me to sign this contract, give Andie back her share.”


“That sounds like something I’m not going to do,” Narcissa said.


“Oh, come on , Cissy! You married a bloody dragon who sits on a mountain of Galleons like he’s fucking Smaug.”


“I beg your pardon?” Lucius looked utterly confused.


“Some muggle story. Jean read to Hermione when she was little. About tiny people and dwarves--”


Bored! ” Narcissa said. “I’m just going to say it,” she threw back the contents of her glass. “Hermione reads too much.” Lucius and Sirius gasped. “What? We were all thinking it.”




It’s go time , Draco thought to himself, as they were both covered with his silk sheets. He’d need to have a word with Mother about that. They were a bit too slippery. And not very breathable. Like...seriously. Rich people sleep on Egyptian cotton. Not silk. Get with it, folks. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Please be ready , he was thinking. I’m only asking because I want you to think I’m a nice guy, but really I just want to tear that thang up.


“Um, isn’t there some kind of a warm-up involved. We just got naked and jumped in your bed,” she said hesitantly. “Maybe some kissing and some touching?”


“Well, I’m not going to enter you now, Hermione. There are several things I have planned first. I just needed to ask before we got started because I didn’t want to break the mood.”


She smiled. “So thoughtful of you.”

“I know,” he said, kissing her neck. “I am rather amazing, aren’t I?”


She bit her lip relishing in his kisses. Hermione Black felt like the luckiest girl in the world. And after the Malfoy name was hyphenated to hers, she would begin her quest for world domination. The coquettish virgin plot had worked out splendidly. Now it was time to seize the moment. She shuddered as Draco’s mouth enclosed on a nipple. What was she thinking about again?


“Ahh, Draco. That feels…” Weird. It felt a little weird, her not being used to the sensation. It would probably be pleasant after he did it a few more times and she became accustomed to the cool shivers it sent up her spine, but for now, she narrowed her eyes at the feeling of it. “Good. It feels good.”


I’m fucking awesome, Draco thought to himself as he laved the perfect pink nub. Boobs. I fucking love boobs. Big boobs, small boobs, round boobs, tear-drop boobs…. Ahhh. Boobs. They’re my fave. Well next to pussy. Damn, I need to eat that. She’s going to be uncomfortably tight.


After several more moments of intense nipple sucking, Hermione was getting impatient, and more than a little bored. “Draco, could you...maybe...I don’t know. Touch my clit, or something. I’ve been wet for a while.”


It was just like his dream. She wanted him to eat her pussy then. Well...she might not have said it, but her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She wanted his mouth on her, now .


“Oh. That’s interesting…” She tried to relax and rationalize that this was a form of foreplay. It was starting to feel good. Yeah. That feels really good. When will I have my orgasm? I’m supposed to have one of those. When will I know?


Okay, yeah, it was good. Oh, it was sooooo good. Wait. What is that...that...can’t...think… She groaned and and spewed all the dirty words in her vocabulary. She’s not totally sure what happened, but she thinks she had her first orgasm. Hermione had to get over the fact he’d probably want to kiss her on the mouth after this. Ewww. Please don’t do that. I’m not okay with tasting my own pussy.’s cool. It’s pretty reasonable to be grossed out by that, especially if you’re a virgin.


Draco raised his head to look at her. “Did you come, babe?”


She nodded, panting, trying to catch her breath. “That was... wow . was just…”


“Okay, good. So you came,” he said, smiling, as he climbed up her body and kissed her fully on the mouth.


Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Hermione did not enjoy her taste as much as Draco seemed to. Well, I guess I know I can cross ‘Have a lesbian moment’ off my Bucket List. No way can I tread those waters.


Draco smirked. “Is it my turn now?”


Hermione smiled a plastic smile all witches from old families learn as soon as they can walk. “Suuure.”


WEEEEE , Draco thought. Bloooow JOB. Bloooow JOB. Bloooow JOB. WEEEEEE!!!! Draco giddily flopped on his back and suppressed the need to rub his hands together in anticipation.


Hermione looked at the hardened appendage with apprehension. My mouth goes there ? “Don’t expect miracles or anything, Draco. This is, after all, my first time.”


“Yeah-yeah-sure-don’t-worryaboutit-you’llbegreat.” He really wanted that blow job.


“Okay,” she said, her voice shaking. HOKAY, Hermione. You’re going to put that dick in your mouth. You can do it. She held it in her hand. It twitched.


“Ummm…” So do you like...just open your mouth and sort of like...bob on it? Or do you lick it? How does one suck a dick? Should have read up on this beforehand! “I’m going to do it now.”


Draco nodded, the smile never fading from his face. “Just kiss it. Start there.”  


She bit her lip and leaned down, pursing her lips tentatively.


She kissed it.


It wasn’t bad.


“Okay, now lick it,” Draco instructed.


She obeyed.


Still fine. Hmm. This isn’t so bad. Actually, I kind of like how it feels on my tongue. Instinctually, she pretended his cock was an ice cream cone about to melt. He licked around and around from base to tip. She even sucked his balls like she would if melted ice cream was coming out out of the bottom of the sugar cone.


Draco moaned at the feel of her tongue on his shaft. “Oh, Merlin, Hermione. Put it in your mouth, please .”


Wow. I must really be awesome. I’m Hermione fucking Black! I’m the best at everything I do. I will ROCK this blow job. She opened her mouth and sucked the head of his cock.


Draco’s eyes rolled back in his head. “Ohhhhh, fuck , Hermione. THat feels so good.” He fisted his hands in her hair.


That, she didn’t love . Although, to be honest, if he was going to do that, he could at least be useful and keep it out of her way. She raised her head up. “I’m sorry. Do you by chance happen to have a pony-tail holder or something?”


Draco blinked down at her. Why was she talking about something not related to sex? Didn’t she understand the most important thing in the world was her mouth on his cock? He shook his head. “No pony-tail holder.”


“Oh. Then could you be a lamb and hold my hair back? I don’t want to get spit in it.”


Draco shrugged. “Sure.”


“Thanks.” She went back to work on his cock. This wasn’t so bad. She took him in and out of her mouth occasionally swallowing her spit. He seemed to like it when she did that. She assumed it had something to do with her mouth contracting around his penis, but the purpose was purely utilitarian. There was just so much spit. But he seemed to be getting harder and bigger, and her little mouth just couldn’t take it. Oh, god, gag reflex.

“Reeegh.” She pulled away and gagged.


“S-s-sorry,” Draco said. He wasn’t completely aware how he had the presence of mind to apologize for gagging her. What she was doing just felt so good and he couldn’t help but thrust into her mouth a bit. He wished she would swallow the whole thing, but he knew she probably wouldn’t be able to do that without a lot of practice. It was her first time, after all.


“ know...don’t do that,” she said indignantly, getting back to work. Before engulfing him in her mouth again she looked up at him with purpose in her eyes. “Are you close, by the way?”


“Huh?” he asked stupidly.


“Are-you-about-to-come-soon?” she asked primly.


He shrugged. “I guess. I probably could come anytime now.”


“Then why don’t you? Because, you know, my jaw isn’t capable of miracles.”


He grimaced. “If you’re sure. But...I mean it feels so good, and—”


“Draco, have you ever sucked a cock before?” Her eyes narrowed slightly annoyed.


He shook his head. “No.”


“Then you have no idea how uncomfortable this can be. Heed me when I say...Come. Soon. Please.”


He looked slightly guilty. “Okay, okay. Sheesh. I’ll fucking come.”


“Thank you,” she said, putting him back in her mouth.


“Wait!” he said, “I don’t have to come in your mouth. I could come in you. If you’re really ready.”


“I’m fairly certain it constitutes coming in me if you come in my mouth, Draco.”


He was getting annoyed at her now. Merlin , just seconds ago she was putting that smart mouth to much better use than this. “Your cunt . I can come in your cunt .”


She blinked rapidly at him before giving him a series of nods. “Okay.”


“Wonderful,” he said in a mildly snotty tone.


“Draco,” her voice suddenly scared and devoid of her usual condescension, “Please. Be gentle. I...I’m scared.”

Well, now he felt like an arsehole. He was getting all snotty and entitled but the fact is she’s be stalling because she was afraid. “I promise.”


He kissed her once more in reassurance. Ew. Still tastes like me,  she grimaced. “Um, Okay.”


“Lay back, love,” he said. He really did want to make this good for her, especially after the lovely blow job she had just gifted him.


She blushed like a virgin, and gave him a sweet smile.


He carefully positioned his head at her entrance, “Okay. Here goes. I’m going to go slow.” Draco barely got his tip, let alone his head in when she gasped. “Too much? Too fast?”


“Just keep going,” she bit her lip trying to hide the pain.


He complied and pressed further into her.


She shut her eyes tightly and seetheed through her teeth. “ Ouuuucchhhh.


“Did I hurt you?”


“Um...yeah. This fucking hurts.”


“Okay. Um…” What should he do? Should he pull out? Merlin, he really didn’t want to pull out. “Maybe you just need to adjust to it. Just bite down on my shoulder if it gets to be too much, alright?”


She nodded, already wishing it was over. A little tear rolled down her cheek as she looked for that little bit of courage. How she wished he inherited that trait.   At least I gave him a blow job earlier. Maybe he’ll come sooner now.


Draco pushed inside her until he was fully sheathed. Holy fucks she was tight. Like...damn. Seriously, this was the best thing his dick had felt in its entire life.


She wanted it to feel good . But it just didn’t. She wanted it to be the greatest thing ever. But this fucking sucked. He had a dopey ass smile like it was the best damn thing that had ever happened to him, but it hurt her so damn bad. She felt like an arsehole. How much longer until it felt good? Was it too much to ask to enjoy this as much as he was? Why did women do this again? Other than the obvious need to continue the human race.


Draco pumped in and out of her slowly, groaning and muttering sweet nothings into her ear. So much appreciation. It was like he was at church or something.


It made her feel powerful to make him feel so good. That power... that was something she understood. The need to hold was intoxicating. Who runs the world? Girls.  Having a vagina is awesome.


Oh, Merlin. It was starting to feel kinda-sorta good now.


Wait. Did she...she couldn’t. Nope, Hermione Black, put that out of your mind right now. You do not get off on power. Not literally, at least. “Can I try being on top?”


WHAAAAA???? So, not expecting that on the first time around. “Um, if it helps you feel it better.” Theo and Blaise (because who the fuck cares about Crabbe and Goyle? Like...let’s just ignore that those two have been inseparable from his side all throughout Hogwarts, but inexplicably, Theo and Blaise are his actual best friends. But then again, who would expect those two dunces to dole out sex tips when compared to Nott and Zabini. Theo and Blaise were like bisexual royalty at the school. Because the nineties were full of hyper sexually aware and accepting individuals. And cocaine. Actually shrooms and acid tabs. At least when I went to school. But one thing is for sure is that weed has NEVER gone out of style.) would never let him live it down if they knew what a ponce he was being, taking such care for her first time.


He flipped over and... Ooooh. Wet spot. It felt cold and gross against his skin. She mounted him awkwardly, her lovely, slender, teenage limbs suddenly flailing all over the place. He held his penis for her to sink onto.


Try again.


Annnnd. Ouch.


Draco bit his lip. Merlin , that hurt. “Baby, let me get it in a little, and then just lower yourself down.”


“Um, okay,” she said slightly embarrassed. Her She-Woman bravada waning.


Together, they made it work eventually. As she sank down on his length, his eyes closed in pleasure, “Oooh, Hermione.”


She now knew what a Christmas turkey felt like. How exactly was she supposed to move ? She just felt full . She was certain she was sweating.


“Baby, are you alright?”


“You’re just so...I’m so…”


He smirked. Damn straight! You always knew your cock was huge. Now you have proof. “Let me help.”


He placed his hands on her hips and raised her body up and down on his cock.


Oh, now this is interesting , Hermione thought. “OH!” she gasped. “This...this I like.” Now she knew how to move. Like a goddamn warrior queen riding into battle. Draco was her stallion knight… King? Fuck no. He’ll have some lame ass title like Duke, because she was a fucking Empress. (Cock. He was a cock. Let’s be real, here.)


She didn’t think she’d be able to come from it, but it did feel pretty good. It was totally different from him going down on her, and it was certainly more of an acquired taste, but it was satisfying in a wholly unusual way. “Mmm. Draco, yes. That feels so good.”


Draco was grinning like a fool watching her breasts bounce up and down as he moved her body over his cock. Boobs.


Hermione gazed down at his dumbstruck face. This was easier than an Imperius curse. Pussy is by far the most powerful magical object. Now, to fuck him senseless. Yeah, she was losing her virginity and she has like no sexual experience, but what she was, was a fucking genius and could adapt to any fucking situation. She bounced harder and harder as she felt her walls finally relax and mold around his cock. In the most alluring voice she could produce, she said, “Draco, baby, come for me.”


Hell yes I’ll come for you. I’ll do goddamned anything for you!


Hold on a second. Easily manipulated, not discreet, fuck, am I sure I deserve to be in Slytherin?


Eh who the hell cares? I’m in Hermione Black. That’s good enough for me, he internalized. “Yes, baby, yes. I’m coming.” Draco’s movements beneath her became more forceful and manic. He stopped checking to see if he was hurting her because all that was on his mind was, must come. Must blow load in precious half-blood princess sitting on my cock!


And that’s exactly what Draco did.


Merlin’s FUCK, YESSSS!!! ” He gripped her hip, not even hearing the little yelp of ‘ Ow ’ she released. “ Oooohhh, Hermione. That was fucking incredible.”


“Yeah, it was good,” she said, sliding off his dick.


“Did you come, babe?”


She hadn’t, but honestly, that was okay. She didn’t expect she’d be able to her first time. Probably not her second or third, either. Maybe never from intercourse alone. But he didn’t need to know that because an honest discussion about female sexuality is absolutely not the basis of a healthy sexual relationship. Better he just thinks he’s a stud.  “Um...yeah. I did.”



Sirius lit up a cigarette. “You two are not that bad,” he licked his lips before kissing Narcissa and Lucius. “You both started off really stiff, but you started to relax after I was in Cissy and Lucius came up behind. Oh, Lucky, I’m calling you that now. That forceful grip you do on the hips, Jean would love that. I know you’d love a taste of forbidden fruit.”


“Sirius, I haven’t seen your winky since we bathed together as toddlers. If only I knew…” Cissy smirked.


“Well, it’s been ages since, I’ve had anal,” Lucius smack on Sirius’s bottom. “Now does your muggle wife also...give you all of her.”


“Of course. Exactly the reason I didn’t marry a pureblood. No offense, Cissy,” he gave her boob a honk. “Jean is a freak.”


“Fine,” Narcissa conceded. “Let the muggle come and play.”

“Right now?” Sirius asked curiously.


“Whenever,” Lucius shrugged. “Damn, we haven’t checked on the children in a while.”


“They’re probably fucking,” Narcissa said apathetically. “That’s that I would be doing.” she giggled. “That’s what we did.”


Sirius sighed. “I suppose I’ll have some mild murder to commit against your son, then.”


Lucius and Narcissa grumbled their agreement.


Sirius contentedly leaned back and puffed on his cigarette. “Wait. What was I doing here again?”




“Draco! Wake up! The change has begun!” Narciss frantically shook her son out of his slumber.


“What the—” his skin was glowing like moonlight. Yeah, he was pale but he never glowed before.


“I’m so sorry we never told you before, son,” Lucius sounded dire.


“Fuck. What now?”


Narcissa shrugged. “You’ve got to find your mate.”

Chapter Text


Narcissa turned to face Lucius. “I thought you told him.”

Me? You’re the mother. This is a nurturing thing.” He scoffed. Because that’s what Lucius does best.

“And you’re the one with the veela blood. Not me. Pureblood my arse.” She interjected. Cranky with his response, she muttered under her breath,“I should have married my cousin.”

Draco snapped his fingers at his bickering parents. “Hey! I can fucking hear you. Somebody please explain to me this deal with the mate. And why the fuck did either of you fail to mention that I’m a goddamned veela? That seems like a rather important thing about oneself to know. What kind of a parent just doesn’t tell their child that they’re a bloody great creature with anger problems and a sex addiction?”

“Oh, we’ll we weren’t sure it would show up. Like scoliosis or a receding hairline,” Lucius shrugged. “I’m afraid you might end up with the receding hairline as well.” (Poor Tom Felton)

Draco looked like he might actually cry. He didn’t even cry as an infant, but now, as a seventeen-year-old whose love for his hair rivals that of his cock, he looked like any second now he was going to go full on Tanya Harding.

“Draco, darling, please calm down. Since the change has already begun, we’ll give you the Cliffs Notes version.” She attempted to regain her composure. “The Malfoy side has veela blood, hence the obnoxiously pale complexion that is just pink enough that you’re not considered albino. Oh, and the charisma, which is why you have so many followers and young ladies follow you around.”

“Do they?” Lucius asked. “I mean who decided that our son is just great with women for no reason? He’s actually a bit of a cunt. No offense, son.” Narcissa ignored Draco’s indignant sputtering. “I don’t know, Lucius. He’s just blond and pretty. And he’s a bit of a bad boy, so I guess it’s safe to assume women like him

. The power thing. The money thing. The pretty face. The good at Quidditch thing. I think that’s got to be it.”

Leave it to mummy to give Draco the ego boost he needed to cope with the atrocity at hand. “Alright. I’m a bloody veela. Is it still veela if I’m male? Would it be veelo? Is the term of latin origin? Because I don’t to be calling myself something feminine if there is a more masculine term.”

Narcissa grinned at him. “You’re so pretty when you’re flustered, love.”

He fumed, like a lovely, ethereal, slightly-more-feminine Legolas from Lord of the Rings. With shorter hair. (Ugh. Orlando Bloom. So fucking hot in that movie. I’m thinking about him now. Can we fancast him as a veela Draco?) “I am not pretty!!!! I am rugged. And manly. And macho!!!”

Narcissa smiled. “Stop it, Draco, darling. You’re just too adorable right now.”

“He’ll be downright angelic once the wings sprout,” Lucius grinned. He took off his coat and sprouted his own. “See, not so bad.”

“Oh, Lucius...not in front of Draco,” she winked. “Take that back to the bedroom.”

Draco looked like he was going to throw up. “If I could go back right now and do sixth year all over again, I’d tell the Dark Lord to shove his Vanishing Cabinet up his arse, because I don’t care about saving either of you! Now somebody tell me right now what the fuck they mean by me having a mate, or so help me Merlin, I will burn my ancestral home into the ground!”

Narcissa bit her lip before breaking into a fit of giggles. “You’re adorable.” She went over and pinched his cheeks. Now this woman was always a bit comfortable with a drink in the afternoon, but Draco was certain Mummy had raided both the medicine cabinet and the bar before coming into his room.

“You’re the worst mother I’ve ever had.”

“Your mate, son of mine, is the girl your soul was meant for. You have been destined for her since birth. And she could be anyone, anywhere. Isn’t that exciting? Hell, she could even be married for all you know. She could be fat. She could be a right grenade, and you’d still be unable to look at her without wanting to shag her silly. Oh, and if you don’t find her before your twentieth birthday, you die.”

“WHAT????” Draco looked ready to commit patricide. “What kind of a bloody awful deal is that??? I get three fucking years to find a girl who could literally be anywhere in the world. That’s unreasonable!”

“Yup. And also, if you do find her and she rejects you, you’ll also die.”

“But you needn’t worry about that dear,” Narcissa chimed in. “You’ll use your veela pheromones to attract her and she won’t be able to resist you.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “That sounds...suspiciously rapey. So what do you want me to just stand out in the middle of Diagon Alley and emit my pheromones and lure all the women around me. What if they are...muggle-born? Or better yet, muggle? Huh? What about that? Is there some veela clause that ensures blood purity? Huh? Explain!”

Lucius shrugged. “Not really. I was lucky with your mother. But really, Draco, your mate could be anyone. And I do mean...anyone. She could be three times your age. Or a Knockturn Alley whore. Or a Mudblood. Or a—”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait.” Draco held up a hand to keep his father from continuing. “A Mudblood. So could be...I don’t know. Off the top of my head,” he pretended to contemplate for a split second. “Granger?”

“Yes. I suppose, conceivably, your mate could be Miss Granger.”

Draco stared off into the distance, processing the possibilities. “My mate could be Hermione Granger.”

“Yes, or she could be a shop girl. Or Muggle royalty. Or a village girl in a third world country. Or--”

Hermione Granger. She could be my mate.” It was so fucking obvious. I mean. How could it not? He’s only been dreaming about shagging her two nights in a row now.

Narcissa and Lucius shot one another a knowing look before rolling their eyes. “Sure, darling,” Narcissa said, patting her son on his fair head. “Your mate could be a Mudblood.”

“Not just any Mudblood, Mother. Hermione Gra—”

“Yes, yes, we know,” Lucius said. “You know, you only have three years starting now. You’d better get your arse out of bed and start looking.”

“How will I know if it’s her?”

“She’ll smell good.”

“Smell good?” Draco quirked an eyebrow. “All girls smell good. It’s a girl thing.”

“Yeah, but she’ll smell really good. You’ll know it when you smell her. Like...really good. Just fucking—” Lucius held a fist in his palm and hissed in a breath. “Just trust me, son.”


Hermione Granger was walking down Diagon Alley weaving through the shops leisurely. She usually shopped with determination, but today, she wanted to take her time. While in Flourish in Blotts, she was flipping through the newest edition of Fantastic Beasts and Where to find them. She turned the page and grimaced, “Ugh. Veelas are horrid creatures in the winged form. And to believe Fleur is part Veela. That means her grandfather shagged—” a shiver went up and down her spine imaging the beastial act. Still, she didn’t have this copy and wanted it for her collection. As she made her way to pay for the book, she felt someone sniff her neck. He head whipped around, and who was it? None other than Draco Malfoy.

“You smell good.” He was some love sick weirdo just casually inhaling her neck as if it were fresh baked bread.

She rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, “Creep.” She turned to leave when she felt a strong pair of arms tugging her back.

She could hear Malfoy sniffing her. “Ahhhh,” he said, releasing a pained sound like a wounded animal. “Be my girlfriend, Granger.”

“Are you insane, Malfoy? Get the fuck off of me.”

“But you smell good…” the thought about if for a second. PHEROMONES. I CAN TURN ON MY PHEROMONES! He thought hard and tried to figure out how to activate the glands. But he really just looked like he was trying to take a shit.

Hermione looked unimpressed. “Let me go, Malfoy.”

“No,” he said petulantly, pulling her towards him.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re high. That’s fine. But leave me out of it. I don’t like you.”

“I’m high on you. You’re like a drug.”

“And you’re like stale heroin, Malfoy. Both of you are things I am never, ever going to do.”

He smirked. “I’ll bet if I showed you my wings, you’d let me love you.”

“Wings? What?” she thought back to the book in her hand. “No. Oh no. Hell no.” She flipped back to the page and skimmed the passage about mates and attraction. “Bollocks.”

He was twirling a strand of her hair between his fingers. “I was really hoping it’d be you, Granger. And now we’ll be together forever.”

She snorted. “Not if I reject you, Malfoy.”

“But you can’t reject me. I’ll die,” he said, pouting magnificently.

She shrugged. “So. I don’t like you.”

“I think you like me a little.” His eyes grew wide and pleading. Come on veela powers. Kick the fuck in.

“No. I really don’t. I think you’re a twat.” She turned to avoid his sweet puppy dog stare.

He chuckled at her insolence. “The thing is…” his chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh, “you’re joking.”

“I’m not. I have seriously never enjoyed a person less.”

Draco rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck side to side before taking a step closer to her. He dragged his finger along her jawline, “You like arseholes. Admit it. You love someone to go toe-to-toe with you. I mean, your friends are good but they’re kind of dicks. Except Longbottom who is pathetic and Thomas, who is actually a lovely guy.”

Hermione did a double take at hearing that last bit. “Interesting theory. And we will revisit that at some point, but I haven’t even had my coffee yet, Malfoy. It’s not even noon yet and already I’ve saddled myself with a bloody soulmate. Just give me at least ten minutes to process this.”

“Coffee. Yeah. Let’s go get coffee. Our first date. Perfect.” He smirked, presenting his arm.

Noooo. Not a date, Malfoy. Just me getting a coffee and choosing to not smack your face away when you sniff my hair. That’s hardly the basis of a lasting relationship.”

He shrugged. “Relationships have been built on less.”

“Whatever, Malfoy. I’m going to get a coffee. You just stand there and attempt to not be a git for the amount of time it takes the caffeine to enter my bloodstream.”

“But I like coffee too. Are you telling me I’m not allowed my right to a double shot caramel mocha with extra whip and cinnamon sprinkles?”

She snorted. “Merlin, you would have the ponciest coffee preferences, wouldn’t you? Honestly, Malfoy, I’m surprised you even like girls. I’d always assumed you had a thing for Harry.”

Draco promptly threw up on her shoes.

Sure. Hermione was of age, and therefore legally allowed to practice magic outside of Hogwarts. Her shoes weren’t expensive, and it was nothing that a simple Scourgify wouldn’t fix. But it was the principle of the thing. Here was this guy who she couldn’t stand, demanding to be allowed to sniff her hair and eventually naw on her neck. And impregnate her and grow old with her. And he was asking it as casually as one would ask for directions on how to navigate the bloody Tube. And he had the audacity to, instead of taking steps in the extremely uphill battle of wooing her, vomit on her shoes.

Wiping the vomit from his mouth, he said, “Sorry. I’ll buy you new shoes. Bonus of marrying me. I can buy lots of shoes. Even get you your own elf to make you shoes. But hey. I like boobs. So much boobs. Vaginas too. Pussies. Cunts. Whatever vernacular...but I mean, I’m not opposed to experimentation. I mean. I need a MATE because I can’t mate with a bloke. Fuck him. Sure. But not mate.”

“Do you want to fuck blokes, Malfoy?” she asked evenly.

He grit his teeth at her. “NO. I want to fuck you, Granger. You should let me. I’m really good at it. It’s in my genetics.”


“Okay, where are these magic pheromones my parents were telling me about. I thought I was supposed to be sexy and irresistable. I mean. Shit. I’m sucking so hard at this.”

She snarled at him. “You use those date rape drugs you have flowing in your bloodstream on me and I won’t hesitate to Avada you.”

“Okay. Fine. I fucking won’t use the pheromones. Sheesh.” He turned to a sales clerk shelving books on a nearby display. “Women, right?”

Hermione paused for a moment before deciding that there was no way in hell she could be truly awake right now, and therefore, her actions would yield no consequences. 4

So she kicked him in the bollocks.

He doubled over in pain. “Fuuuck...okay,” he said, punching a nearby wall. “I deserved that.”

“Yes. Yes. You did.”

No pheromones. Perhaps it was time to use another tactic. “Hey Granger, you ever seen my abs before?”

“What?” “Look. I know you have a type. Krum. McClaggen. The Cinnamon Dough Boy. You like Quidditch Players. Which means...You like being the smarter one and you like rock hard bodies.”

She shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

He shrugged off his robes and ripped off his shirt in the middle of the bookshop. There he was, glowing and every chiseled muscle exposed. He looked like Michelangelo’s David. Several women nearby got pregnant from the sheer proximity of his raw sexuality.

“Holy fuck,” was all she could mutter. She hated the fact she had a type and he so easily exploited it. Mama like.

Draco clapped his hands, it was a self-high five. It was lame as shit, but she still wanted to fuck him. “Alright, you like? Ready to do this mating thing?”

“Well that killed my lady boner. Can you woo a girl just a little? Merlin. I need more than just a flash of abs. Is a bit of tit all you need to get going?”

He shrugged. “Absolutely. You want to show me your tits? Because I’m totally game.”

She growled. “Fuck’s sake, Malfoy. You’re rich! Buy a girl dinner before asking her to commit her life to you, why don’t you? You could have started by, oh, I don’t know. Buying this book. Being all suave like, ‘let me get that, love.’ Some effort please.”

“You want me to buy you this book?” He looked dumbfounded. He felt dumb in general. Does this veela transformation zap all your brain cells. Because honestly he feels as dumb as Crabbe and Goyle.

She palmed her forehead. “I can buy my own book, Malfoy. The book is just an example.”

“Okay. Let’s do this. Coffee. Shopping. Dinner. Meet the parents. Both sets,” he looks at his watch. “Yeah, we can do this all in a day. Totally. Speed dating. And still have time to squeeze in a quick shag, if you’re game.”

How many times could she really kick him in the bollocks before he ceased to be an unendurable little cunt? Before this day was over, she would probably find out.


She sipped her cappuccino, wondering if she left the barista an extra few Galleons, if they’d let the arsenic bottle slip over Malfoy’s coffee. He looked entirely too pleased with himself for that ridiculous little stunt he’d just pulled. Sure, it was a somewhat impressive little bit of magic, but it was still annoying.

“Enjoying your coffee, Hermione?”

She scoffed. “Please don’t use my given name.”

“You don’t seem to appreciate the shape in the foam. It’s art, Hermione.”

“It’s a dick. You charmed my cappuccino to have dick latte art. Good for bloody you. I’m not talking to you.”

“And mine is a vagina. See I got the inner and outer lips and look at that cute little nub.” He then teasingly licked the foam clitoris hoping to entice her and let her imagination run wild as to what he could do with his tongue. “Just to let you know, I do know what all of these parts are called. And I know what to do to them.”

Hermione was sure she was in some warped dimension. In what world is a righteous pureblood 1) a Veela, 2) obsessed with a muggleborn, 3) acted like a strung out junkie, 4) an utter idiot. He was in most of her N.E.W.T. level classes. She has no recollection of him being such a knob. But, she’d be lying if his tongue didn’t look dexterous, and skilled. She rolled her eyes. “You are so gross. I can’t imagine being less attracted to you.” It was a shitty attempt at a lie and didn’t fool him at all.

“Do I need to take off my shirt again, Hermione?”

Sweet Merlin. “Why would I want that?”

He quirked a little smile. “I also have really nice thighs and a firm bum at that. Would you like to go swimming? I have a pool. You can preview the merchandise before purchase. Touching optional, but preferred.”

She shuddered at world’s most obvious come on. “I can’t. I have plans to meet Harry and Ron today.”

Draco slammed his fist through the table and reduced it to a pile of splinters. “Mine.”

Hermione squinted her eyes. “Huh?”

Mine,” he said, his eyes turning black.

“What? Malfoy, are you having a stroke or something?”


He sprang up out of his seat and leapt to her, throwing his arms around her to hold her in place. His wings tempted to break free of his skin and clothing. The possessive instincts were making their way to the surface.

“Learn a new word, arsehole!”

Draco glared at her, his pointy nose transforming into a beak. “No Granger. You’re mine. We’re done with courting.”

She rolled her eyes. “This was courting? Woo hoo. Lucky me. And also, how dare you?”

“You’re coming with me,” he said, dragging her by the arm. Veela Draco careened out of the coffee shop like a bird-like neanderthal with his mate, ready to take to the skies.


They arrived on the balcony of his bedroom at the Manor. Hermione was a bit disgusted that he would take her to the place of her torture, for her eventual ritualistic bonding. It wasn’t poetic as much as it was...well...fucked up.

“Take my pheromones, Granger. Take them! Take them!”

“Not on your life, Mal--oooohhh,” she said, her eyes going dreamy. “You bastard.” Her voice had taken on a wistful quality. She was obviously reacting to Draco’s veela charms physically, despite her brain screaming at her to hex him stupid.

He glowed like an alabaster David, but with a MUCH bigger cock. (Damn, Michelangelo, how chilly was it in your studio? For a man of such extreme creative talents, he certainly lacked imagination.) Gone were the vulture like beak and terrifying wings. Just pretty, smooth skin, rock hard abs and pectoral muscles—glutes too, hair that shook in slow motion with every nod and flip, and a penis chiseled by the gods

“I’ve been dreaming of you, Granger. Have you been dreaming of me?”

She rolled her eyes. “Do I look like the kind of girl who’d fall for a line like that?”

“No. You look like the girl whose neck I’m about to bite. And then we’ll be together forever.” Before she could protest, he made sure to flex his abdominal muscles.

Damn him!!! I DO like those. Merlin, I wonder what they’d feel like under my tongue as I ran it over each and every muscle in his--WHHHAAAAT am I thinking?

He internally sang, I’m sexy and I know it, because, fuck this girl knows what’s up. Slowly he started gyrating his body like one of those hunky Australian guys from Thunder from Down Under. If he were destitute, he could totally get away with being a stripper. The boy had moves.

Hermione reached into her purse and started pelting him with sickles.

“Ow! What are you doing?”

“It’s not my fault wizard money is still in coin form. I can’t exactly ‘make it rain’ without hurting you.” Her revealing smirk told Draco all he needed to know.

Fuck yeah. She wants me. “I’ll make it so good for you, Granger.”

“Why the biting thing?”

He cocked his head to the side, resembling a puppy for a moment. “I have to bite you?”

“But why? I mean, it will hurt. And if I’m already your mate, why do you need to bite me. If you’re already this attached to me, I’m not sure I can take what would happen if you bit me. Seriously. Think about it. It. Makes. No. Sense. We’ll still be mates whether I let you bite me or not.”

“Wait, do you still have the book? Maybe there is something in there?” He snatched her bag and flipped through. “Dragons...Hinkypunks....heffalumps...buttery nipples...kamikazes ...AH! Veelas. Says here I won’t be able to control it. The minute we...copulate,” he snickered, “I’ll instinctually latch onto you.” He bit his lip apologetically, narrowing his eyes at her. “Not gonna lie, I really want to bite you.”

She blinked at him for several moments before shrugging. “If you must, you must. Just, like...don’t make it hurt so much. Can you do that?”

“I make no promises, princess.”

Ugh! Why do you have to call me that? There is no fucking precedent for that shit. I’m not a princess. I’m Hermione. Or Granger. Why can’t you just be happy with one of those two names? I’m not the girl you give a pet name to.”

“Would you prefer my queen? Or...there is this great muggle fantasy book I’ve been reading and they call the queen Khaleesi. She has dragons and considering my name means dragon, it totally fits.”

“You’re reading the Song of Ice and Fire series?” She suddenly was overcome with nerd lust. “Take me you pale fucking prat. Take me now!”

He punched the air and jumped. “Yeessss!!!” He grasped her clothing and ripped it right off of her, tearing it into shreds. “Whoa. Nice rack, Khaleesi.”

She stood before him in her bra and panties, looking slightly annoyed. “I liked those clothes, Malfoy.”

“They were horrid. We’re going shopping after we—” he pauses to snicker, “copulate.” He imagined the clothes he’d buy her. Something low-cut to show off that glorious rack.

“Why don’t you say copulate a few more times, Malfoy and see what happens? It’s not Bloody Mary. It doesn’t appear when you say it three times.”

“Alright, how about this. You can either let me take off the last bits of fabric on your body, or I can. If I do, I’ll reward you with the most skilled kiss I’ve ever given anyone, and I’m not talking about your mouth. If you do it, well, either way, I’m eating your pussy.” Images flashed before his eyes of wonderful dreams involving eating Hermione Granger’s pussy. He couldn’t explain why, but he’d been craving that thing lately.

Suddenly her mouth started salivating, wanting to please him as well. She was experiencing the most intense deja vu she has ever felt in her life. “How about we go at the same time? I’ll take off my bra, you take off my knickers, then you eat me while I suck you off? How does that sound, mate?”

She said mate in a way that didn’t sound like she was one of the lads. Hermione Granger was down and understood what was happening here. And holy fuck, she was DOWN.

Draco was delirious with joy. “That sounds fucking brilliant,” he said, his eyes shining with horny tears. “Can I bite the inside of your thigh?”

“How ‘bout we just play it by ear? After all, I only barely like you. And even then I only really like parts of you. It’s a little early in the relationship to be making plans, don’t you think?”

“Fair. Let’s let the cock do the talking, shall we?” He sort of cringed at that line. “Get on the fucking bed and let me taste you.” Much better. He grabbed a handful of her ass and squeezed, letting her know who was in control.

With an enthusiastic flick of her fingers, her bra was off and she was on her back, sprawled out on his ostentatious monstrosity of a bed. She immediately scrunched her face into a grimace. “Oh my god, do you really have mirrors on your ceiling?”

“Oh, you’re going to want to look up. I promise,” he said as he crawled over her, while flexing his muscles with every cat-like stride. When he turned his body around to have his pelvis hang over her, the tip of his cock teasing her smart mouth, he gave a haughty laugh before diving into her center first.

“Holy...fuuuuck.” It was difficult to suck his cock when her eyes rolled in the back of her head. From the sounds he was making, he was enjoying it as much as she was. She could probably be selfish and take every ounce of pleasure he wanted to give her without so much as licking him in return. But that would be mean. After all, his tongue felt sooooo good down there. He deserved a treat. She licked her lips and stared hungrily at the engorged appendage in front of her mouth before opening wide and taking him in.

Unnnngghh. Yeah. Suck it, Granger.” How was he talking at a time like this? Especially since his tongue was inexplicably still going to town while he praised her. “Fuck you taste so good. I could stay down here forever,” he gave a little thrust into her mouth, reminding her to play along.

They both fucked each other’s mouths. She ground into him hard while she could barely breathe the way he was ramming down her throat. Hermione had no choice but to finger him in the ass to get his attention. But it backfired. He enjoyed it a bit too much.

Hermione smirked in satisfaction at the sound of Draco Malfoy squealing like a little girl. What an interesting spot. When the pad of her finger danced over it, he’d make this sound.


“Like that, do you?” For a moment, Hermione really wished she had a dick. At least a strap-on one. She bet he’d take it like a pro. He looked like the type. But alas. Fingers would have to do—for now.

Yes, please don’t stop,” he gasped. “Please put my cock back in your mouth while you finger me.”

“Title of your memoir, Malfoy,” she quipped, complying eagerly with his request.

While she enjoyed the power she had over him, he became so overcome with his own pleasure, he forgot what his task was, and it made her antsy. “Alright, time for me to ride you. Mama’s clit needs to be grinding on something. You can’t have all the fun.”

He pried his eyes open not realizing how tightly he had closed them. “So you’re ready? Because you know what that means. My dick in your cunt?”

She shrugged, sort of forgetting the whole veela thing for a second, because she really just wanted to get laid. Like rock hard dick in pussy sounded like the best damn thing. Oh, and he has those V-lines (you know the type!), so his pelvis is nice and ready for some grinding. Like wheat on a stone.

He flipped quickly like a Cirque du Soleil acrobat. She was a little shocked, because suddenly his face was right in front of hers...Have they kissed yet? She can’t remember. But it was fucking time and she was pretty stoked about that. Draco positioned himself at his entrance and his fangs began to expose themselves. Hermione’s eyes grew wide. “OH FUCK. I forgot about—”

He shut her up as his canines sank into the sweet flesh of her neck. He groaned at the salty, metallic taste of her blood as it flooded his mouth. It was so damn satisfying to the creature inside him, he damn near came and he hadn’t even entered her yet.

Ooooowwww!!! You fucking troll! That fucking hurts!”

“Hammmasssorrrrhhheee,” he said through the ecstasy of finally making her his. You know. After the absolute agony of having to wait an hour or so. She was pretty sure he was apologizing to her, but he didn’t sound very sincere. He wasn’t sorry at all. He was loving this shit.

The venom burned as it coursed through her body but it finally gave way to euphoria. It was one hell of a way to get high, but fuck, it felt good after it finally kicked in. She gasped and relaxed, spreading her legs wider, inviting him in.

He rammed into her, still not detaching himself from her neck. He just wanted to taste and pleasure her all at the same time. He knew the venom was really taking effect now the longer the kept injecting her with hit, the more heightened her senses would become during their first mating.

Hermione’s mind had all but turned to mush. It was like she could feel every vein in his cock. Every ridge and dip caressed her from the inside. His hands on her breasts were setting her on fire and when his thumb brushed over her nipple, she was powerless to prevent the rippling orgasm that hit her like a motherfucking tsunami.

Veela powers are fucking awesome, Draco said to himself trying to prolong his own orgasm, but she wasn’t done yet. She continued to rock under him and squeezed his ass appreciatively. A cheeky smile crossed her face as her finger found his asshole once more. “OHMYFUCKINGGODURRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!!” All of his magical cum spilled inside of her...FUCK...they forgot protection. And that magical cum had one goal. Mate. Procreate. Make more weird veela babies.

Hermione pushed him off of her. “If you knocked me up, I will find the biggest, scariest, most violent dildo in Knockturn Alley and I will fuck your life up with it.”

He instinctively covered his arse to protect his precious little puckered hole. He liked butt stuff, but not that much. Tiny little Granger fingers stroking him in that magic spot—yes. Troll peckers and centaur cocks—no.

Hermione leered at him. “You do make the most delightful noises when I fuck you with my fingers.”

He blushed. “You’re my mate, Hermione.”

She shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”


“Draco. Wake up,” Narcissa called sweetly.

“Deja fucking vu. This shit is getting old,” he grumbled as his stretched.

“Language. Darling. We have so much to do before the masquerade ball! Everyone is coming to our home. It will be a night to remember.”

“Masquerade, for Halloween? A little cliche, don’t you think, Mother?”

“Oh, what do you know about cliche?”

Chapter Text


By MotherofBulls and SaintDionsysus

Day Four: Masquerade/Mistaken Identity


Draco scratched his head as to what the evening has in store. It seemed cruel that he had to put on a mask (or a “masque” as fancy people would call it) and deprive the world of the beauteous vision that was he. At least his masque didn’t have straps on it and he was able to magically fix it to his face (because otherwise HOW THE FUCK would it stay on if he was to...I don’t someone and have a clandestine affair with them in a dark corner), so it didn’t mess up his perfect hair.

As expected, Narcissa pulled out all the stops and had gowns and masques hand-crafted in Venice by slave labor, I mean muggles under the Imperius, I mean...well yeah. Muggles made fancy ass masks (or ‘masques’ because fancy) against their will, but goddammit, they were beautiful.

The poncy prince ran his fingers against the fine velvet robes before putting them against his skin. He’d been working out and he’d been looking fine. He hollered down to his mother, “Hey Mum! Next year our theme should be Bacchanal. All we need are grapes and togas!” And a shit ton of wine and orgies. He imagined how women would fawn of is chiseled form, traipsing around the manor, feeding him grapes with his head cradled in their laps, weraring little more than a few scraps of gauze.

Maybe they could even extend their social circle to include up and coming people in wizarding society. People like Hermione Granger. She had haunted his dreams for the last three nights and he’d woken up with sticky sheets. He supposed that earned her the right to feed him grapes whilst half-naked.

Honestly, out of all the gods on Olympus, Dionysus deserved the most praise. (Interesting theory, Cat! Why would this god stand out to you in particular, I wonder.) (Dude. Wine and ‘fertility’. His whole goal is to get you drunk and bone. He’s my hero.) (We all have a hero in our hearts.) (Look, A. Your pen name can make a cameo later in the story if you want.) (I’m good. It’s easier to make fun of my pen name than anything. I like it when people call me MoB. SO I TOTALLY ENCOURAGE YOU ALL TO DO THAT!) (Join the MoB, bitches.) (The Notorious MoB, son!)

So, yeah, DRACO was getting ready for his mother’s fancy-ass masquerade. His mother burst into his room an hour into his routine, looking like a goddess. “Draco, darling. You’re not ready yet?”

Draco was on hour one of his pre-party skin care regimen. He only had another hour and a half to go if he could get some fucking peace and quiet. “Mum!” He hid his face, which was covered in some sort of green crust.

“That isn’t the sort of mask I expected you to wear, Draco.”


A roar came from the fireplace and Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini swaggered out of the green flames. Accenting his mocha skin and golden eyes, Blaise donned black and bronze robes the ostentatious plumage protruding from the masque/mask (have we decided on consistent spelling? eh) (It’s not called a “maskerade.”) He looked like sex on a stick. Theo went with the whole reptilian vibe with robes made of green, copper, and black sequins. Accented with strips of snake and crocodile skin. If Draco did dudes, he would do both of them. They looked really bangable.

“Draco, still moisturizing?” Theo laughed before turning to his the Malfoy matriarch and winking. “Cissy.”

No, Theo. I’m working on my pores. Moisturizing is next. And laugh all you fucking want, but it takes time to look this good. Nobody alive has skin this naturally porcelain.”

“I told you to switch to the Korean shit, Draco,” Blaise chasitized. “It works faster and more effective than your over-priced French shit.”

“If I gave up French skincare, my ancestors would come back from the grave just to shit on me.”

“This is officially a poncey-ass conversation and I want no part of it.” Theo rolled his eyes and slipped an arm behind Narcissa’s back. “So, Lucius still in Azkaban?” Blaise joined Theo and Narcissa and added, “We sure hope so.”

She giggled and said, “Not in front of Draco, boys.”

Draco growled. With his scaley, dried green mask (not ‘masque’ this time) he resembled a demonic lizard. “Stop making my mum giggle. It’s fucking unnatural and I forbid it.”

“Cissy,” Theo growled in her ear, “I think we have, oh, um, three hours before Draco’s skin routine completes. Can you think of anything we could do to do occupy our time?”

“We got here just much too early but if there is anything, and we mean anything we can do to help get ready for this party, we are glad to help.” Blaise drawled.

“I’m very skilled with my hands,” Theo whispered into her ear.

“And I speak so many languages, or tongues, if you prefer,” Blaise said, sandwiching Narcissa between him and Theo.

Hey, Mum! How would you like a nice, cozy cell in Azkaban next to dear, old Dad? Because that’s what you’ll get if you decide you’d like a bit of statutory rape with your party,” Draco said, Scourgifying his face, revealing the less-than-charming puce color that stained his cheeks.

“Draco, you’re the only one under age.” Theo corrected him. “My birthday was two weeks ago and Blaise shares a birthday with Granger.”

“Literally no one cares when either of you were born,” Draco said. “This bit isn’t about you. It’s about me and my attempt to dissolve into obscurity for one night so I can be ‘normal’ and no one will treat me like a baby Death Eater. And maybe, just maybe, I can find true love along the way.”

Somewhere in this oversized house, a cricket chose this moment to start bellowing.

“Come on boys. Let’s let Draco finish primping and fantasizing about the obscure concept of ‘true love.’ I think there are some decorations that need to be taken down and moved elsewhere.” Narcissa took both young men by the hand, down the halls.

“I don’t even bloody care,” Draco muttered as he grumpily applied La Mer to his face. He sighed as he examined his face from all angles. “The world doesn’t deserve me.”


Hours later, Draco emerged from his room looking like a fairy prince. He couldn’t bear to hide his beauty from the world, so he opted to wear a thin strap (albeit an absurdly overpriced thin strap that was painstakingly crafted by Muggle Venetians) of a masque over his eyes. But, of course, you could still see those damn things because nobody on earth had silver eyes besides Draco Malfoy. He was basically a collection of distinctive features and he was freaking kidding himself if he thought no one would recognize him.

He ran into Blaise and Theo in the ballroom, each of them looking shrug, mildly disheveled, and avoiding each other’s eyes. “How do I look?” Draco asked, giving them a spin. Whirling around so that every angle could be seen in all its magnificence.

“If I swung that way, I’d let you blow me,” Blaise said.

“Fuck you very much, Blaise. Did my mum say who all was coming tonight?”

Theo sniggered. “Her mouth was a little too full to recite the guest list at us.”

Draco glared. “I will burn your family alive if you allude to that again.”

“Rude,” Theo said. “I think your mum might have said something about sending out an invite to everyone in our year at Hogwarts. Something about ‘never knowing who might be important one day’ or whatever.”

“Interesting…” Draco pondered. “You think Granger will be here? How would you rate her perceptiveness? On a scale of one to ten? One being Lois Lane and ten being Sherlock Holmes.”

“Well,” Blaise said, rubbing his chin for effect. “On the one hand, she is supposed to be The Brightest Witch of our—”

“Fucking hells, do not finish that sentence,” Draco said, fuming. He basically despised when people called her that. It was getting old as shit.

“Well...that. But, on the other hand, she’s been hanging around Potter and Weasley for nearly seven years now, and she still hasn’t realized that they’re both enormous arseholes.” Blaise reasoned

Theo patted himself down, “Has anyone seen my wand? Oh I remember, I transfigured it into as dil — never mind. It’s in your mum’s room...I mean...I know where it is.”

Draco was silent a moment, his expression totally blank before raising his wand and casting a wordless hex at Theo.

“You set me on fire, you fucking almost-albino shit!”

“I did warn you,” Draco said, bored with the conversation and now making his way to the refreshments. He didn’t even notice Blaise casting an emergency Aguamenti on Theo.

“I need a new costume now. Well, good thing Cissy ordered extras.” Theo could have castrated himself for being outrageously obtuse. He called for a house elf to apparate him before Draco could hex him once again.

Blaise strolled over to Draco who was pouring himself a generous glass of wine. “You didn’t have to do that, mate.”

Draco shrugged. “Look upon the field of fucks that I have sown and see that it is barren.”

The horns trumpeted and guests began to arrive one by one down the grand staircase. Then She arrived. It had to be her. In a golden gown that swished as she walked and her hair in brown ringlets pinned at her crown. The masque decorated with red velvet, roses, and ribbons wowed him from across the ballroom. (I basically made Hermione look like Belle. Shoot me.) (You do you.)

Draco chuckled at how adorable her masque was. As if she wasn’t every bit as distinctive in her physicality as he was. Did she really think no one would know it was her. He had two choices: (1) He could assume his modus operandi and be a twat to her, letting her know right away he knew it was her, or (2) He could pretend he had no idea who she was and woo her. Option Two it was. It was never even a competition, really.

Option Two came with the delightful possibility that he could convince her to follow him “somewhere quiet” and finally bury his own wand, if you know what I mean. He was aching to find out if she was as good as he dreamt she was.


She looked around hoping that she would spot her friends, but dammit. She lost one of her contacts before walking into the Manor. NO ONE knew she wore them. No one had even seen her with reading glasses. She just went straight for contact lenses. Oh, and there was that nasty accident in potions yesterday. She could barely hear a thing.

“You look lonely,” a smooth, silky, borderline dirty voice whispered in her ear.

She turned to face the owner of said voice and beheld the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Probably. He was wearing a thin strap of plaster over his face so obviously, SHE HAD NO IDEA WHAT HE FUCKING LOOKED LIKE BECAUSE THAT IS THE ONLY PART OF THE FACE THAT MATTERS!!!!! His platinum hair, gray eyes, and arrogant, poncey posture were a mystery to her. Who could he be? Such a mystery. A mystery of the ages. She must get to know this oh-so-mysterious man.


Well, there go all of his great lines. Guess he’s going to have to rely on body language. He grabbed her in his arms and they began to waltz across the ballroom floor.


He fought the urge to scowl. What was the damn point of looking this good if the quite literal girl of his dreams couldn’t see him to appreciate it? Instead he retrieved his wand and wrote out, “Y-O-U-R L-O-S-S P-R-I-N-C-E-S-S. I-’-M A F-U-C-K-I-N-G V-I-S-I-O-N-!”

He was so sure of himself. So confident. So manly. Who could he be? Who did she possibly know who was that sure of himself? Such a mystery. “YOU DON’T NEED TO BE SUCH A DICK. FOR FUCKS SAKE. IF DIDN’T KNOW ANY BETTER, I WOULD THINK YOU’RE EITHER MALFOY OR MCCLAGGEN OR MAYBE EVEN MACMILLAN. THEY’RE ALL PONCY ARSEHOLES BUT AS I DON’T HAVE FULL USAGE OF MY SENSES, I CANNOT VERIFY.”

He darted his eyes back and forth sheepishly. “W-O-U-L-D T-H-A-T B-E A P-R-O-B-L-E-M-? I H-E-A-R-D T-H-A-T D-R-A-C-O M-A-L-F-O-Y I-S A S-T-U-D I-N T-H-E B-E-D-R-O-O-M-!”

So mysterious. Who could he possibly be? “I ALSO HEAR THAT HE SPENDS MORE TIME ON HIS FACE THAN FOREPLAY.”

People were starting to stare.

He rolled his eyes, realizing that it was time for a different tactic. “Y-O-U L-O-O-K S-O B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L T-O-N-I-G-H-T-.”

“Oh! My ears popped! Would you look at that. Goodness. My throat is so sore. I must have been screaming at the top of my lungs. Well, that’s embarrassing. I apologize.” She said sheepishly. “Thank you for the compliment.”

Draco assumed his most charming smile. “Don’t worry about it. You weren’t annoying or shrill at all. I could listen to you talk all evening. At any volume, really.” His own ears had yet to pop from her screaming in his ear. He hoped that all came out suave and silky because otherwise he had no idea.

She sighed. He was so handsome, maybe. Who knew? That mask. Masque. Whatever. If only she knew what he looked like. If only that inch of face she couldn’t see was visible to her. Then she would be able to get a full picture of who this mysterious person was. “I feel like I’ve known you forever. Merlin, if only I hadn’t lost my contacts. I always bring a spare pair, but I switched handbags.”

That’s because she fucking had known him forever...or at least since they were eleven.

He smiled. “You don’t seem like the kind of girl who frequents fancy balls like this. You seem like the type who’d rather spend her evening curled up in front of the fire with a good book.”

He knows me so well. Could it be fate? The Brightest Witch of Her Age who had absolutely no fucking idea from his voice, stature, height, build, bright blond hair, eyes, and overall just the rest of his pale, pointy face, who this person was, pondered. If only I knew.

Draco just snickered to himself. On the scale of one to ten, definitely Lois Lane. She must have caught Weasel’s obliviousness from years of proximity to him. This was why he cut Crabbe and Goyle loose. That shit was contagious. He wondered if she was already drunk, or maybe stoned. Could the loss of optical aids really have that much effect on her skills of observation? Eh, He was going to run with it.

“You look like something out of a fairytale,” he attempted to say sexily in a volume that would register with her because he was kind of afraid to whisper. He wasn’t 100 percent sure her hearing was totally back and the whole whispering thing would be wasted.

“Well,” she paused, “Because it is. I had my gown modeled after my favourite fairy princess. She loves books and sees the good in everyone.”

“That’s fascinating,” he said, having stopped paid attention after she said “Well.” “How would you like to come Somewhere Quiet with me? The noise in here can’t possibly be good for your sensitive ears.”

He’s so thoughtful. “I wish I knew who you were. I feel like I do. Something out of a dream. One that has haunted me for nights.”

“Three nights, perhaps?” He asked suggestively.

“How did you…” she trailed off. “Every night I have these amazing dreams, but for some reason, I don’t truly enjoy who I’m with, but the sex is amazing. I wake up every morning not knowing who the person is but I seek them out in the real world. Because, fuck he knew how to eat pussy.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked flirtatiously. “The real him knows how to eat pussy too.”

She beamed at him like Belle in a bookshop. “Mysterious Stranger, I would love to go Somewhere Quiet with you. But do you know your way around Malfoy Manor? It’s quite large from what I understand.”

He snickered. “It is quite large, as you’ll soon learn, my sweet.”


“I mean, yeah. I know my way around.”

She sighed. “Who could you possibly be?” Her brain was not operational. Her blurred vision was getting the best of her and she was beginning to get a headache but mystery Person was really turning her on. “Do you know where the library is? I’ve always wanted to have sex in a library.”

“You bet your sweet rosebud I do.” He grabbed her by the hand and dragged her away from the ball.


“Alright, Beauty, would you like a drink. This bar is impressively stocked. Not exactly sure how anyone could read while drunk, but I hear that there are some fantastic authors who write drunk. I believe it was Hemingway who coined the phrase, ‘Write Drunk, Edit Sober.’” (Or in our case, Write Drunk, Don’t Edit At All, Publish Drunk, Repeat.)

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I came here for sex, Mysterious Stranger. Not reading.” It was the first time in her life she had ever been able to say that, and it felt so good. All of a sudden,

Draco questioned that this was really Granger. There is no way in seven hells she would trash reading. Then he looked at her. Petite, great rack, curly hair, big brown eyes, swotty voice. Yup. It was her.

He couldn’t wait to fuck her.

“I can’t wait to fuck you.”

She smiled. “Awww. That’s so sweet, Person.”

He dropped to his knees and climbed under her voluminous gown. It swallowed him completely. So many layers. So much ruching. Fucking princess dresses. He’d never be able to look at another one without getting hard as hell again. As he finally found her tiny body under all the crinoline, he was totally stoked that she wore pretty panties. Because that would really ruin the illusion. Gorgeous dress and nasty granny panties. Come on girls. Get your act together. But there was beautiful nude lace. Not RED. Not GREEN. A sensible color that wouldn’t clash with the elegant garment. He gently pressed her legs apart, urging her feet to scoot further apart. Draco gently moved the lace to the side and slipped his finger in once and brought it to his lips. It tasted better than his dreams. He pressed his lips against her lower lips and savored the moment. His tongue slipped in slowly teasing her, hoping she would beg for it.

“Oh, Person! Person! Yes! Right there,” Hermione moaned, wishing she knew his name so she could scream it, but making do.

He quirked an eyebrow. She could say ‘baby’ or ‘sexy’ or ‘adonis’. Or just not say ‘person’. The ambiguity was a bit of a turn-off for him. No offense to the gender non-binary crowd, but Draco was really proud to be a MAN and not ‘Person’. Also, COME ON! Really, how the fuck did she not know who he was?

Mother fucker! Yes! Right there! Don’t stop.”

Merlin, she was filthy. ‘Mother fucker’ worked a lot better than ‘Person,’ but then his mind went to Blaise and Theo and his rapidly engorging dick went limp. He did his best to get back in the game, eating her out and fingering that pretty pink pussy. Carefully, he hooked one of her legs on his shoulder and use one of hands to support her. With the extra stability, he just dove right in and nom nom nommmming away. He remembered he still had his masque on. Well, it wasn’t in the way. No point taking it off.

“Oh fuck yes! I’m going to fuck your face so hard,” she screamed grinding her lady bits all over his pristine face.

Ooooooookay. His dick was working again. Draco left his mouth to do all the work while he stroked himself, helping it get harder. Because, he was so going to rail that swot against one of these bookcases. This was hotter than all the librarian porn he’d seen combined.

“Pump your fingers harder. Do it!”

Salazar’s rod, she was bossy. He might have been appalled at how turned on that made him if his brain hadn’t been so preoccupied with the prospect of fucking her (supposedly) brilliant brains out. All he could do was obey as his fingers picked up the pace.

“I’M COOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMIIIIIIIIINGGGGGG!” she wailed smashing her cunt against his pointy face and long fingers. Her cunt clamped down on his fingers and he continued to lick her until she pushed his head away.

He looked up at her with a sexy, shining smirk, wiping her lady juices off of his face. “Say that a little louder, princess. I don’t think the house elves in the kitchens heard you.”

She panted, coming down from her high. Who could this mysterious man POSSIBLY be? He seemed so familiar, and yet somehow his identity escaped her.

Draco fought his way out of the voluminous dress and came nose to nose with her. SURELY she would figure it out if their eyes were that close together.

“You’re like a dream…Who are you?” she said wistfully.


Draco battled with his conscious. Can I do this? Can I really have sex with her when she doesn’t even know who I am? Can I really take advantage like that?

She shoved her hand down his pants and stroked his erection.

He gasped. Fuck yeah! I can do it. I can fuck her bowlegged. Draco had to use her wand to lift up a good deal of the dress so he hoist her up on the ledge of the nearest book case. He planned on fucking her so good.

“You have the most delicious cunt I have ever tasted. So fucking gorgeous. Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?”

She bit her lip lasciviously (big word, drunky) (I’m not super duper happy with my use of it, but it’s crack, so it’s cool) and he was powerless to stop the groan that escaped him. “You want it?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

They didn’t bother taking off clothes or masques. Just dick in pussy, clothes moved to the side. He was so eager that he didn’t even wait for a blowjob. He fucking loved those things, but he REALLY wanted to fuck her up against the books. It was part of this swot fetish. It went well with the aesthetic.

“Oh, Granger. You feel so good,” he moaned into her neck.

“So do you. You...wait. Hold up.” She paused for a moment and looked him in the eyes, trying to see him properly. “You...You know who I am?” she panted.

“Have you seriously not figured out who I am yet?” he continued to thrust, his cock coated in her wetness.

She narrowed her eyes, forcing them to focus on what was before her. Pointy features, pale skin, blond hair, gray eyes, tall, lean and muscular Seeker build…

Who the fuck was he?

He sighed, still not ceasing in his relentless thrusting. “For fuck’s sake, Granger, I’m calling bullshit on the whole genius thing.”

“I don’t fucking care. Just FUCK me,” she demanded

“I can do that.” He placed a hot, sucking kiss to her neck.

“Fucking Luna. I should have known those weren’t regular mushrooms on that pizza,” she opened her legs wider, aching for all of his heated ministrations.

“I fucking knew it!” he exclaimed pounding away. “For a moment I worried that you had caught Weasel’s stupid.”

She froze. Weasel? Oh, my fucking… “Malfoy????”

He continued to thrust inside of her. “In. The. Flesh. Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about your pussy for three nights now.” He slowed so he could recount some of the delicious details for her. “On the first night, you are an angry minx. Uggggh. On the second night, you were my blushing virgin bride to be.”

“Wait. what?”

“Last night, you were my fucking mate. Damn, I could fuck you in every dream from now until eternity,” He nipped at her neck and carefully pushed her masque away.

She was perfect.

“Malfoy,” she whispered. “I...I…”

“Just let yourself feel, princess. If you can get over yourself long enough to let me make you come again, we can talk about this all you want.”

“I…” she gulped. “I want to see you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Honestly, you would have to be clinically blind not to see that it’s obviously me under this feeble strip of plaster. But for you, I’ll relinquish my frail anonymity.” He released his grip on her waist (keeping his other hand firmly planted on her thigh, which was wrapped around his hips) to remove his masque, such as it was.

“It is you.”

“Okay, Belle. You’re obviously fucking high. And as cute as it is, we’ve a job to finish.” He pointed at their joined genitals, suggestively.

“Right. Sure. Carry on.”

“Thank you,” he said, thrusting his hips into her again. “You’re so tight, Granger.”

“Th-thank you,” she gasped.

He rolled his eyes at her Gryffindor etiquette. If she was capable of politeness at a time like this, he obviously wasn’t doing his job right. He doubled his efforts and thrust into her even harder.

“Oh my fucking—Malfoy! Yes. Don’t stop.”

He dropped his hand to where her dress and his waist met and bravely made the journey under the layers of tulle and nonsense to find her clit. “You like that?” he asked as he rubbed her.

“I think I’m...fuck!”

The feeling of Hermione Granger coming hard around his cock was the single most erotic moment of his life. She was squeezing the life out of him. She had to exercise those kegels. No other explanation would do.

Merlin, Granger!” he panted as he shot hot cum into her. He bit down on the spot where her shoulder met her neck and licked the abused area till he had completely come home.

The two of them stood there in the aftermath, trembling from their orgasms, wondering what the hell to do now that they had finished. (Because of course they would orgasm at the same damn time.) (But of course. This is Trope Soup, after all.)

“Um...should we date?” Draco asked. Hermione bit her lip.

“How would I explain this to Harry and Ron?”

“You could just try, ‘It’s my life. I don’t owe either of you wankers an explanation. Fuck off if you don’t like it,’ but hey. Your choice.”

“So, by date, would we just date, or would we be girlfriend and boyfriend?” she said unsure of the the whole situation.

“I’m not sharing you, Granger. You will be my girlfriend and you will agree not to let any other bloke up that obnoxious skirt of yours.”

She shrugged. “I see the romance is dead already.”

Romance?” he asked, incredulous. “I shagged you against a book shelf. In a library. Are you not as aroused by that as I am? This was something out of a Disney fan fiction. We ticked all the damn tropes on that one, Granger. Be a little grateful.”

She rolled her eyes. “How did I not see that it was you?”

“Question of the motherfucking year, Granger. Are you rushing to do magic mushrooms again?”

“Ugh, I’m so high. But it made sex feel so good. I’m actually still kind of high. If you get your cock hard again, I’ll take my dress off this time,” she said, avoiding his question.

It worked too well. He brightened at the prospect of a second round. “Actually, I think I’ll strip you out of that oversized abortion-of-a-garment. Which you look lovely in, by the way.”

“Whatever, Malfoy. Just do that thing you do where you make me forget my own name, and you can say whatever you want about my dress.”

“Deal,” he said, thrusting his fingers inside of her.


“UGH. My head. Where the fuck am I? It’s so dark. Where is my wand?”

“Malfoy. Is that you?”

“Granger? Is that you?”

“Yes? Where are we? I just regained consciousness too.”

He felt long wooden handles topple over on his head. “I think a broom cupboard.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked.

“Well, we were doing prefect rounds and you were being a right bint, going on about how we should check in here because you heard a noise. And I followed you...and that’s about it.”

“Oh, no,” she said, checking the doorknob, casting Alohomora and every other potentially useful spell she knew. “Does that mean…?”

“We’re locked in a closet together,” he intoned.

Chapter Text


By MotherofBulls and SaintDionsysus

Day Five: Locked in a Closet

“How? What? Closet?” she said rapidly, trying to make sense of this all.

“Brightest Witch of Her Age, everyone,” Draco drawled sarcastically.

“Shut it, you,” Hermione snapped, looking around the small room. “How did we get stuck in here?”

“Magic, if I had to guess.”

“Could you try not to be a cunt for two consecutive minutes while I figure this mess out?”

“Impossible. You are what you eat,” He smirked.

For a moment, she pondered his words. “You’re foul,” she said, hoping she sounded more disinterested than she felt. She was only a teenage girl, after all, stuck in a broom closet with an extremely attractive teenage boy.

“Don’t know why you’re complaining. I’m the one stuck in here with an insufferable little swot.”

“Nice one, Malfoy. Haven’t heard that one for a while. It’s comforting really, to know that you still resort to the hits. Do ‘My Father Will Hear About This.’ Oh wait. Do ‘Filthy Little Mudblood.’”

“How about ‘I Can Think Of Fifty Better Uses For Your Mouth Right Now Than You Bitching At Me’?”

Her jaw dropped at his crude innuendo.

He snickered. “Exactly, Granger. Like that.”

Ugh . You are disgusting , Malfoy. Like I’d ever touch you .”

“Like I’d ever let you.”

She scoffed. “Oh, please. You’d be fucking lucky to have my mouth on you, Malfoy. It’d probably be the cleanest thing you’ve ever had near that poor excuse of an appendage I’m assuming you have in between your legs.”

Draco’s eyes widened for a moment before bursting out in laughter. “Who knew you could be this fun, Granger? I always assumed you were a little prude. But look at you, making dirty jokes.”

“Well, I’m a mudblood after all. Dirty is my default setting, wouldn’t you say?”

“Dirty indeed,” Draco said under his breath, but still loud enough where she could hear him. He made sure she saw him rake his eyes over the silhouette of her form. Maybe being stuck in this predicament with the little chit wouldn’t be so bad. Irritating her was actually pretty fun. Her face turned the most fetching color of pink when she was flustered.

“Look, why are we insulting each other in the dark?” She pondered. “Lumos.”

When the room became illuminated with magic, she could see his trousers beginning to tent though he had a strained look upon his face.

“Fuck, Granger! That’s so bright. Do you have a dimmer setting on your wand?” He grimaced, shielding himself as if he were Count Dracula.

Annoyed, she concentrated and adjusted the luminosity of the charm. “Here you go, Princess.”

“That’s my line.”

“Your what?”

“Nevermind.” Draco scratching his head. His dreams as of late have been so lucid, he could have sworn as some point he called her princess. But that was impossible. They abhorred each other and have never shared more than loathing glances.

“What’s the last thing you remember before finding yourself locked in here?” Hermione asked.

Draco bit his lip. He really, really did not want to answer that question. On the other hand…

“Dreaming about fucking you into a bookshelf in the library at the Manor.”

Hermione looked like she had just swallowed her tongue. “You...wh-” She cleared her throat. “That’s hardly appropriate.”

“Just being honest,” he said.

“I’m only asking because backtracking might actually help us get out of here. Don’t you think?”

“So you want to know about the dream?” Without hesitation, he continued. “You looked like a fairy princess and I made all your nerdy dreams come true. And my skin was flawless.”

“You arsehole,” she said. “I’m not interesting in hearing about your sordid fantasies.”

“Not even if they’re about you, Granger?”

Especially not if they’re about me,” she said, the color on her cheeks darkening.

“But you have the prettiest cunt in these dreams. All wet and tight.” His face darkened and he began stalking toward her. “Sometimes you’re experienced and insatiable. Sometimes you’re an innocent angel. But you’re always a quality fuck.”

Her throat tightened and was at a loss for words. She had to admit this was a bit of a turn on. Curiosity got the better of her, “And in these dreams, do you have to win me over?”

He shrugged, playing disinterested while he was genuinely excited about her intrigue. “Most of the time. Sometimes it’s easy, sometimes it’s not. One time we were betrothed. But each time, you—” he sighed wistfully at the fantasy as though it were a memory, “let me fuck your mouth and I lick your pussy.”

Hermione realized they were now facing each other, her hand still gripped to her wand as it filled the tiny room with light. Draco was dragging the tip of his finger casually up and down her arm. She wouldn’t let him play this game with her. There was no way Draco Malfoy was controlling this situation. “Well, I’m glad that the fantasy version of yourself has good enough sense to engage in foreplay. Because the real me wouldn’t let you just stick it in.

“Fishing, are you, Granger? Eager to know if the real me is just as enthusiastic about foreplay?”

She snorted. “You wish, Malfoy.”

“Look, I prefer Dream Girl Granger over you any time,” he brushed her off. “She fights with me for about two thirds of the dream, but it always ends the same. Her fellating me and me thrusting into her in ungodly positions. So poke and prod all you want.”

“I’m not poking and prodding , Malfoy. Sounds to me like you’re the one doing that.”

He snickered. “You really do have a much filthier sense of humor than I pegged you for.”

She smirked.

He realized he had just used the term ‘I pegged you.’ He shook his head, grinning wildly at her. “You dirty little savage.”

“Awww. I bet you say that to all the girls.” She stood up and began pacing around the small room.

“What in the seven hells are you doing, Granger? Besides making me nervous?”

“I’m looking for clues.”

“Right. Because that works.”

“Aren’t you curious as to how we ended up here, Malfoy?”

He shrugged. “This castle quite literally has a mind of its own. It’s likely it was just bored and feeling a bit cheeky and thought it would have a laugh at our expense. But it’s not totally evil. It will let us out eventually. In the meantime, we should be using this opportunity to get to know one another better.”

She huffed and resigned her indignation to play along. “Well, I’m a Virgo, you may already know I enjoy reading, but my guilty pleasure is trashy romance novels and comic books. Despite my leanings toward civil rights, I am actually am a huge fan of blood sport—Muggle fighting, bull fighting, and dragon wrestling. What can I say. I’m an enigma.”

“Nice,” Draco said with a bored inflection. “My turn now. I’m a Gemini, but I don’t believe in that garbage. I also enjoy reading and riding my broom. I’m an excellent Quidditch player, a natural at Potions, pants at Transfiguration, and I’m an only child.”

“Anything else the school doesn’t already know?”

He smirked evilly. “I think you have the nicest rack in the whole school.”

“Hold on there. That is a bold-faced lie. Have you seen Katie Bell’s tits? Gorgeous. Super symmetrical. We were in the prefects’ bathroom and they were downright sculpted from marble even her nipples were an appealing shade of pink. A little bit darker, but it works with the color of her hair.”

“Too big,” Draco said. “No need for all that. I’m a connoisseur, Granger. I prefer quality over quantity.” He adopted a business-like tone. “However, I am most interested in hearing more about you lezzing on Katie Bell in the prefects’ bath.”


“See Malfoy, that’s the difference between men and women. We can admire each other without it being sexual. It’s just noticing what is appealing to the eye. For example, as much as I hate the twat, Parkinson has nice legs, too bad she has no arse. Cho Chang now she’s got a nice perky bum, for an Asian girl. I think it’s the Quidditch and climb to Ravenclaw tower—”

“All the girls who live in Ravenclaw and Gryffindor have amazing bums. It’s a blessing you have such a horrendous daily commute—”

“As I was saying, I notice these things and it doesn’t mean I’m a lesbian. I mean, I notice these things about men too.”

“Go on…” his eyes narrowed, torn between anticipation she would say something about him and also some insight into his potential competition.

“Take you for example, Malfoy.”

He bounced his eyebrows suggestively at her. “Yes, Granger. Do take me.”

“You’re obviously a ponce because you put entirely too much thought into your hair and skin. And I’m about 90% positive you get manicures. But my thought on this is, if you’re going to go through all that trouble, why not take the leap and invest in self-tanning as well?”

He didn’t like where this was going. Readying for his retort, she continued on.

“Now, let’s talk about our Ugly Duckling turned Swan, Neville Longbottom.”


“He’s got that sun-kissed glow from working in the greenhouses and garden, hefty muscle from manual labor, oh, and he’s blond, but not albino. It’s that beautiful light brown with sun bleached highlights. I am emphasizing sun for a reason. Oh, and that really sweet, dopey position. I mean, he’s creeping out of the friendzone if you know what I mean.”

“Okay, okay. Enough . Seriously, I cannot listen to you talk about Longbottom like he’s the last meat pie in a room full of starving women and you have the audacity to tell me I should get a fake tan like some sort of chavy douchebag! My skin is flawless , Granger. It takes a mixture of hard work, luck, and impeccable genetics to look like this. And I am not a ponce, thank you very much. In fact, I think I’ve made it pretty clear I’d like nothing more than to stick it to you.”

She was enjoying riling him up. “You know who I’d love to stick it to me? Your mates, Theo and Blaise. Is it true they’re bi? Merlin, I’d love to watch the two of them go at it. I’d just rub my clit and enjoy the show. Zabini has that gorgeous skin somewhere between caramel and mocha that you just want to lick, and Nott has that cheeky intellectual banter and that literal baby arm that is clearly visible through his trousers. I would gladly be the meat in that sandwich.”

Draco felt a surge of possessive jealousy churn in his stomach at hearing Granger proclaim lust for two of his closest mates. On the other hand, the thought of her rubbing her clit gave him a massive chubby. He winced once again, trying to stave off the pain.  He was recovering from a minor Quidditch injury and a boner wasn’t exactly doing him any favors right now.

Hermione had to stop thinking about sex. The hunger building inside of her just made things worse—more frustrating. She licked her lips, unaware of how seductive it looked. To be honest, she was parched. This room was getting hotter and hotter as the moments passed.

Draco loosened his tie. “Um...Granger,” he croaked. “I’m not going to lie, I’m really freaking turned on right now.”

“Me too,” she said in a much huskier version of her own voice.

“Good. Now that that’s settled, do you think we should have sex or something? It’s probably what the room wants. I’ll bet we could leave if we fucked.”

“I have my period.”

“Oh, thank Merlin. I pulled my groin during Quidditch. Just the slightest chub makes me want to pass out from pain.”

“Reschedule?” She asked nonchalantly.

“Absolutely. After prefect rounds?”

“We can streamline the process and get paired up to do rounds together.” Hermione suggested with finality.

They each whipped out identical Moleskin planners from their pockets and wrote “S-E-X  W-I-T-H  (G-R-A-N-G-E-R) (M-A-L-F-O-Y).”

“Brilliant,” he said as he snapped his planner shut. “Now that I’ve officially added you to my To Do List, what would you like to do to pass the time?”

Let’s see if the room will let us out, shall we?” She walked to the door, jiggled the handle, said all manner of unlocking and blasting curses, all to no avail.

Fuck . Come on , Room. We’ve already agreed to fuck each other. Just not today. Isn’t that what you wanted?” Draco asked with an undercurrent of whiny baby in his voice.

“I guess we’ll take the opportunity to study?” she suggested and pulled out a stack of white cards from her pocket. “I have notes for the tomorrow’s charms exam.”

“Granger,” Draco said, admiring her flashcards. “These are bloody brilliant . Why haven’t we studied together before?”

“You’re a prat and I don’t like you?”

“Fair. Let’s study.” He stretched his arms to the side and sleepily yawned.

As if his yawn was truly contagious, she gave in as well. “Okay. A little. Then a nap if this blasted door doesn’t let us out?”

“Yeah, sounds good to me,” he muttered.


“Cormac. Stop. I don’t like you that way,” Hermione Granger’s voice echoed from down the hall.

Ah, fuck. Was I sleepwalking again? Draco wondered, realizing that he had no memory of wandering into this corridor only to be assaulted by the sight of that drooling Labrador, Cormac McLaggen, wagging his tail at Hermione Granger. Why she ever agreed to bring that lout as her date, Draco would never know. He appraised her appearance in her pink A-line dress with the plunging neckline. Little swot cleans up quite nicely , he thought.

“Just give me a chance, Granger. I promise I’ll make it worth your while,” he leered. “Just walk with me, one kiss under the mistletoe is all I ask. Please.

What sort of an idiot begs for sex? The very small part of Draco that didn’t want to choke the life out of McLaggen for being such an obvious sod, actually wanted to take him under his arm and tutor him on the art of seduction.

“Cormac, I—” She cut off hearing noises, “Who’s there? Malfoy?

Chapter Text


By MotherofBulls and SaintDionsysus

Day Six: Mistletoe

“No. No one’s here. Continue your disgusting swap of lion spit elsewhere,” Malfoy gave a deadpan response to Granger and McLaggen. While the pathetic advances on the swot (who looked amazing in her Christmas dress by the way) were comical, Draco had elsewhere to be.  

“You perving on us, Malfoy,” Cormac drunkenly slurred.

Draco rolled his eyes, “Why is it that Gryffindor house seems to be in a perpetual state of intoxication?”

“Answer the question, son !” Cormac demanded, pushing himself off of Hermione and approaching Draco to give him a douchetastic shove to the chest.

Draco saw red. Oh HELL no. He shoved Cormac back. “Back the fuck off, McLaggen!”

You back the fuck off, Malfoy!” More shoves. Dangerously close to Scuffle Territory.

“Fuck you! You’re the fucking pervert Mc- Slag gen. It didn’t look to me like Granger was all that into you.”

“Boys!” Hermione hollered stepping between the two of them. But honestly it was really, I MEAN REALLY hot watching two hot guys fight. The peacocking got her knickers really wet. She turned to Malfoy whose piercing gray eyes and carefully disheveled white-blond tresses glistened in the moonlight and Cormac whose rugged handsomeness was quite the compliment to his cherubic dirty blond curls. Do I have a thing for blonds?  

Shame they were both diabolical human beings. Any rational girl would recognize these two male specimens were basically the epitome of high school fuckboys.

“Granger? You alright?” Malfoy asked the glassy-eyed female who appeared to have been hit with the Imperius Curse or something else that made her eyes go all unfocused.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Um…” She cleared her throat. “Fuck off, Malfoy!” That was better.

Eww, though. Cormac got all smirky and sauntered over to her, throwing his arm around her shoulders like the two of them were some sort of item . Gross.

“You heard the lady, Malfoy.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Cormac, I actually think I’m going to take off.”

“Your clothes?” He winked. “Let’s wait until we’re back to the tower at least.”

She and Draco both independently suppressed the urge to dry heave. “She clearly doesn’t like you. There is absolutely nothing ambiguous about this situation.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak snake,” Cormac seethed tightened his grip around her shoulders possessively.

Okay. Hermione like seriously hated him. Using all her strength, she released herself from his vise-grip. Seriously, he might have been a better chase. “Goodnight, Cormac.” Without a backward glance, she walked away. He could hear Malfoy smirking at the other blond boy. She instinctively wiggled her hips a little, in case he was watching. Hermione, you big ol’ whore! You are FLIRTING with Assface Malfoy.

Draco over exaggerated his yawn. “Alright, Dicklaggen. The swot has spoken. Off you pop.” Malfoy strode away and casually cast a sticking charm rooting Cormac to the spot so not to follow him.

He wasn’t following Granger. Of course not. They just happened to be walking in the same direction...out of all the many corridors throughout the castle...Yeah. That’s it.

As he rounded the corner, he heard a familiar screech.


Holy fuck, that girl’s got a mouth on her. It was amusing. When he found her rooted to the spot in her little red dress, appearing to struggle with the very air around her, he was even more amused. She really was pretty.

“Who the fuck hangs this shit around the castle? There are children here!” said the girl who had loudly invented several new curse words that evening. “Huh? What about the first years? What about consent? Seriously? This school is going to end up with some time of underaged sex scandal. Hear that??? SEX SCANDAL!”

“You rang, Granger?”

YOU! ” Her cheeks were all kinds of pink. “What the holy hell are you doing here?”

He took two steps forward and quirked an eyebrow, still not aware of what had her so riled up.

“Don’t move a muscle. Stay where you are!” He hollered holding her hands up.

“What’s got you in a strop, Granger?”

With narrowed eyes and a dejected stance, she pointed above her head.

“Mistletoe? Why do the elves insist on hanging the Herpes Weed all over the damn castle?”

“My point EXACTLY, Malfoy!” She cleared her throat. “Now. If you would be so kind as to go and get Harry or Neville, or some other appropriate boy—NOT Cormac—I would very much appreciate it.”

He touched his chin, pretending to think about her proposition. “Hmm. Now, why would I do that, Granger? I rather like seeing you squirm.”

“You’re an arse. Go away. Any closer you’ll be in range and that CAN NOT happen,” she huffed. “Dean and Seamus, yeah, they’re gay, but I’m their hag. They think it’s funny to kiss their straight friend.”

“D’aww. You look almost adorable when you’re rambling.”

“Go. Get. A. BOY. Youfuckingprat.”

“Or…” he took one step forward. “I could…” He had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Truthfully, he didn’t mean to start walking towards her. It just sort of happened.

Hermione’s eyes grew with her panic. “Malfoy, what are you doing? One more step and we’ll have to—”

It was too late. His feet pulled him into the magical mistletoe’s spell and he was now face to face with Granger.

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest. She didn’t realize it at the time, but doing that pushed her breasts together making her cleavage look even more enticing. “Fucker,” she groaned.

“You’re telling me,” he muttered, his eyes glued to the tops of her breasts.

She elbowed him in the ribs, which would have made him barrel over if not for the accursed piece of plantlife hovering above their heads. “Stop looking at my tits, arsehole.”

Draco winced in pain. She was tiny but damn, she was strong. Sharp elbows.

Hermione reached up and pecked him on the cheek hoping to break the spell. Nothing they were still stuck.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Really, Granger? I’ve had hotter kisses from my grandmother. Now hold still and let me snog you.”

“Of course you’ve had hot kisses from relatives. You’re a pureblood. All you fuckers are inbred to fuck. Snogging you... I’d rather not get a cold sore,” she grimaced at the thought of kissing Pansy Parkinson’s sloppy seconds.

He was getting impatient standing there with the most impossible female he had ever had the misfortune to know. “Granger. Come on. This is almost as bad as a p etrificus totalus.” He mustered up his gentlemanly courage. “Miss Granger, may I kiss you? I would like to do the chivalrous thing and ask for your consent. I would be honored if you would allow me to break this curse.”

How was this working??? There was nothing remotely attractive about a guy formerly and ever-so-politely asking for consent before kissing a girl. So, why did it turn her on a little that Malfoy asked her? It had to be because she had never heard him ask for anything before now. Usually he just made demands.

(Like, Oh my god. What a fucking concept? Asking someone to share an intimate moment. Not being a total misogynist and treating a woman like a piece of meat whose only lot in life is to please a man. I mean, we’re not trying to make a political statement but while we have the doc open I might as well...) (BAD CAT! BAD! SOUPING! NO POLITICS FOR YOU!) (CONSTANT VIGILANCE! Did that make it more Harry Potter?) (AAHHH. Gryffindors. I fucking love you guys.) (Eh, it’s a blessing and a curse.)

So ANYWAY...Hermione was thinking about letting Malfoy kiss her and it was freaking her out a little that she was even considering it.

Exasperated, Draco said pointedly, “Granger, I may have extended my niceties toward you, but may I remind you, this spell lasts until Boxing Day. Lest you want to stay stuck to this spot and miss your train home, you might want to kiss me.”

There he was. There was that ferrety little, gitty, pratty, arse-prat, twatmongler who had terrorized her for her entire adolescent life.

“You look pretty, by the way,” he mentioned flippantly. Not like he was flirting. Just very matter of fact.

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you just trying to get me to kiss you.”

Yes! I’m absolutely trying to get you to kiss me. I mean, I wasn’t wrong. You do look pretty tonight and frankly the revelation that you have boobs is making me seriously consider petitioning the Board of Governors for a completely different uniform design, but at the end of the day, I’ve got shit to do, Granger, and I don’t have time to stand here with my thumb up my arse while you screech in my ear for the next eternity!”

Her face turned bright red. “How can you be chivalrous and sexist all in the same conversation? You’re incorrigible!” (another check off the trope list)

Malfoy rolled his shoulders back getting ready to bring out the big guns. He had never had to work this hard for a snog. Hermione Granger really knew how to play hard to get. Merlin, McClaggen’s balls must be bluer than the Pacific. Who knows how long she was stringing him along before Malfoy interrupted. The Slytherin slowly put one hand on her hip and took her hand in his other. He began to hum and they started swaying.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“Shutting you up,” he said, then continued to dance with her in the silence of the empty corridor. “What the living hell were you doing with McLaggen, Granger? He’s a fucking ape.”

“Why do you care?” she asked snottily.

“Just making conversation. Seeing as we’re going to be here for a while because you’re too much of a marm to kiss me, we might as well chat.”

Hermione found herself closing the gap between them and allowed him to lead her in the confined circle. She said dejectedly, “I asked him out to make Ron jealous.”

Draco’s eyes hardened. “Ron Weasley is a degraded little shithead who is more interested in his next meal than he is the attentions of a beautiful girl. He wouldn’t know quality if it sat on his lap and started wanking him off. You are out of his league. You’re out of McLaggen’s league. You’re wasting your time, Granger.”

She snorted indelicately, “Well, who is in my league? No one’s exactly knocking down my door asking me on dates.” Not knowing what she was doing, she placed her head on his chest.

Draco rolled his eyes. Smartest witch of her blah, blah, blah, his arse. “Excuse me, but are you, or are you not, in the arms of the most sought-after wizard in this school?”

“That’s just the mistletoe. Once I kiss you, it’ll free us and you’ll never talk to me again.”

“That...Granger, that is not true . After you kiss me, you and I both know that I’ll probably never stop thinking about you because it will probably be the best kiss of my life. And I’ll seek you out again because I won’t be able to resist stealing another one from you. Before you know it, you and I will be snogging on the reg, and eventually we’ll start fucking in broom closets and abandoned classrooms. Slowly, I’ll find myself craving your company in ways that aren’t purely physical, and before you know it, we’ll be in pseudo-love, which will be as real as it could possibly be between two sixteen-year-olds. Ultimately, it may be strong enough even to get me to abandon my family, my pureblood upbringing, and my inheritance. It will completely change my life and I’ll probably become good or something. All because of a kiss.”

“You’re a real romantic, you are. And quite creative I might add.” She scoffed sarcastically. He was a right twat with the most absurd imagination. Against her better judgment, she tiptoed and kissed him softly.

It was like the circuit in his brain that housed all sense just exploded. He lost his mind. She smelled like Christmas and felt like heaven. He grasped her hips and pulled her closer as he pried her mouth open with his tongue so he could finally find out what a swot tasted like.

Peppermint cocoa. That’s what she tasted like. Like advent calendar sweets and christmas canes. Her kiss was like Christmas morning. A surprise that he didn’t know he wanted...or did he? This was like deja vu, but holiday themed. Special Edition. Limited Time.

Malfoy didn’t want to let her go. When she nibbled on his bottom lip he felt his life flash before his eyes. He was going to have to kill her because otherwise she would haunt him forever after this. One kiss would not be enough.

He felt like his chestnuts were roasting on an open fire. He felt like Father Christmas and needed to empty his sack. He needed some Crimbo shagging.

He vaguely noticed that he was covered in the remains of some sort of plant and realized that it must be the mistletoe spell ending. Thank Merlin for that Syphilitic Shrubbery and all trouble it had caused him because now he had a new purpose in life. Kissing Hermione Granger was his pursuit now. He would gladly lose his life to it.

“I want to unwrap your package,” Granger purred.

Draco’s lips curled at the little innuendo. Ah, Christmas puns. His hands drifted south to cup her arse and Salazar’s rod he had never imagined Hermione Granger would have such a fine thang. He wanted to tear it up. “Come to my room with me,” he whispered into her mouth.

“Too far. Alcove. Around the corner.” She panted breathily in response.

The two of them practically ran to the alcove. Draco’s hard on bounced (does it work like that??? I assume, but I’ve never had a dick, so I can’t say with absolute certainty) (You know, I’ve seen erect dicks but I can’t recall seeing one while running. Should I conduct an experiment and have my husband run with a boner? For science?) (You do that. I could have Josh do it too so we can have multiple groups, I asked him if he’d ever run with a boner, and he thought about it for about thirty seconds before finally saying, “No. No, I have not.) (That’s part of the scientific method. Hypothesis and trials. Do we have a control? We need LightofEvolution. She’s the science teacher.)  uncomfortably, but nevertheless did not deter him from his randy goal. His mind was on a single, continuous reel. (unlike ours)   Mustshagswotmustshagswotmustshagswotmustshagswot. (FYI, Amanda didn’t use copy/paste like a normal person. She wrote all that out.) (I TYPED that shit! Hiccup . I’m drunk.)(I can barely hold my glass…)

Hermione grabbed Draco by the hand and yanked him away from prying eyes. Deftly she unbuttoned and pulled down his trousers before he could register what was going on. “Merry Christmas, Hermione.” She smiled almost giddily. “What to do first?” Hermione asked more hypothetically than actually asking for directions.

“I will give you anything you want in the world if you put my cock in your mouth.” Oh, the fantasy of those swot-lips wrapped around his dick. Him, thrusting into her smart mouth, seeing it disappear and reappear over and over again, shining with her spit.

“I’ll suck your cock if you burrow your face under my dress. ‘Tis the season for giving and receiving,” she said coquettishly as she dropped to her knees.

He groaned. “And I have been such a good boy,” he said, joining her on the ground so he could bury his face between her thighs.

“No you haven’t. And you know it.” Harry might have reached Charlie Sheen levels of crazy conspiracy theorist where Malfoy was concerned and Hermione didn’t buy any of it for a second, but she could not deny that if anyone deserved a place on the Naughty List, it was Draco Malfoy.

Draco’s hands glided up her skirt and began tugging at her panties. “So this floor is cold as fuck and a little dirty but I really want to eat your pussy while you suck my dick. I know you were probably thinking I would give you a quickie up against the wall, but the thing is...I am super horny. That’s really not going to do it for me. So either we sixty-nine on the castle floor or we go back to my original idea of my room. Up to you princess.”

“Are you a wizard or not? Unzip me.”

He obliged with a huff. “Well, excuse me if all the blood usually reserved for higher brain functions has fled to my dick. Your fault.” When Draco woke up this morning, he did not imagine that his day would end with him clamoring on a filthy floor in an abandoned alcove, digging his fingers in Hermione’s Granger’s thighs while she worked at his belt. He leaned forward and licked a long, wet stripe up her slit. Fucking hell, she tasted good. He hoped she would put her mouth on him soon.

She sighed and took out her wand. In as a strangled moan she uttered, “ I was just going to tell you to transfigure my dress into a duvet.”

“You do it,” he said before diving in and sucking her clit into his mouth.

She gasped. “ Ahhh . How the... ohhh ...fuck am I supposed to... oh, shit . I don’t care. Let’s do it here.”

Draco grunted his consent as he feasted on the slippery pink nub. She tasted so good. It was like her body chemistry had been tailored specifically for him. He was so hard from eating her, that if she didn’t put him in her mouth soon, he was going to…. ummm . Fuck yeah, Granger. You filthy nerd. Merlin, the girl sucked cock like she was going to be tested on it. It was the only explanation.

Okay, now Granger had to be part snake. Now we’re not talking Slytherin. Actual reptilian. Did she unhinge her jaw? Like how did she take him so deep. A dark question crossed Draco’s mind, who is she practicing with that she’s so fucking good at this? Nope. Can’t think about that..

Through heavy breaths, he panted, “Please tell me you never sucked off McLaggen.”

Pop! She removed her mouth from his dick with a dark sneer. “ Really?

“Never mind. Just keep going.”

“I do not fool around with fuckwits like McLaggen.”

“Fine, fine, fine. You’re a classy girl. You’d never stoop so low. Just with me. Now, could you please —”

“Say it again,” she growled, relishing in his begging.

He was going to kill her after the two of them finally came. He was going to fuck her six ways to Sunday, and then he was going to kill her. “Granger… please suck my dick.”

Umm. Malfoy asking politely for things. Definitely a new fetish. Teasingly, she dragged her tongue along his shaft from his balls to his tip. She gave the sensitive crevice near his slit the tiniest of flicks of her tongue. Hermione Granger liked being in control. He writhed in anticipation until she took him back into her mouth, engulfing his full length.

His brain was mush as he felt the overwhelming wet heat of Granger’s mouth cover his cock. A still-conscious part of his brain reminded him, “ Hey buddy. Aren’t you supposed to be doing something to her too?

Oh, right. He had a meal to finish. He slid his tongue into her cunt savoring her flavor. It took everything he had not to sing his happy food song. Yeah, he has a happy food song. It goes, num, num, nummy nummy num. (Wow. We are douchebags.)(I don’t know if I can go on. I think we might have crossed a line.) (I’m taking a moment to reflect on my life right now. Thinking about going to church or something. But not really church, because that’s hard.)(I hope to all the gods, my children and Girl Scouts never read this. They’ll discover I’m an asshole.)(If they discover it when you’re old, then you’ll get away scott-free. People love old people who are gross and who swear. We just have yet to age into our personalities.)(So true. Back to cunnilingus and fellatio.)

So YEAH! Hermione was getting close to coming because Draco was doing just a STAND UP JOB on eating her out. Just...truly stellar. Top notch. Gooood boy!

Releasing his cock from her mouth, the banshee howled in pleasure as the waves of orgasm rippled through her. (I hate myself for writing that. It’s like Smut 101) She panted and writhed riding out every moment of pleasure. It dawned on her that they never cast a silencing charm.

Draco was close and didn’t like his climax interrupted. He guided his dick back into her mouth and pumped vigorously. With every snap of his hips, she gave a little moan around his cock, sending those sweet, torturous vibrations up his cock to the base of his spine. “ Holy shit! ” Untold amounts of hot cum spurted into Hermione’s mouth as Draco came victoriously. She swallowed every drop like a pro.

After wiping her mouth, she tilted her head and looked up at him. “Been a while?”

“Hey, you shouldn’t complain. I had pineapple for dessert tonight.”

“Not complaining. Just an observation.”

He grinned sleepily and pulled her to him. “All this because of a kiss.”

“Just a kiss.”

As their lips met again, they felt the Earth shift.

“Looky what we have here…”

Malfoy and Granger looked up to see Nott and Zabini. Both had smug looks and ridiculous Christmas packages adhered to their trousers.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Draco questioned while holding Hermione protectively.

Blaise snickered. “Our dicks in a box. You won’t believe how many hand jobs we’ve gotten.”

“Yeah, everyone’s all grossed out at first, but then, I mean,” he lifted the lid to his box, “Girls are totally intrigued.”

Hermione raised her eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of her. Draco gripped her tighter to him.

“See.” Blaise shrugged.

“Go the fuck away.” Draco barked at his idiot friends.

“But isn’t Christmas about sharing and spending time with loved ones?” Theo added.

“I’ll send you a goddamned fruitcake. Now get the fuck out of here.”


No! No! I’m not! Please! Don’t say that! ” Hermione’s ear-piercing screams came  from down the hall.

Draco woke from his dream. It had been a nice dream. Very nice. So nice, his sheets were sticky. Seriously, it was bad enough that he had to share a common room with Granger since they were both Heads, but now she was interrupting his sleep and his orgasms? Who did she think she was?

Please! No! I’ll do anything! PLEASE!!!

What the…

Casting a quick Scourgify on himself, he leapt out of bed to investigate the commotion.

“Granger. Granger!

With a gasp, Hermione awoke. She looked confused to see Draco hovering above her. “Wha…? What happened?”

“You had a nightmare.”

“Oh. Um...I’m sorry I woke you.” She hugged her knees to her chest and she looked so small and so pathetic, Draco couldn’t just leave her by herself.

“What do you need?”

She took a deep breath. “Look, I know we don’t like each other or anything. But could you just stay with me?”

“Yes,” he said with no hesitation. “I’ll stay.”

As he crawled into bed under the covers with her, he knew he was in deep shit.

Chapter Text

Draco grumbled grumpily as he patted Granger’s back. The girl was shaking from her nightmare. Gryffindor indeed. He called bullshit. “You do know nightmares aren’t real, right?”

She gasped and shot up out of bed. “Malfoy! What the hell are you doing here?” Hermione gathered the blankets around her. As if her baggy flannel jammies were really that revealing.

He rolled his eyes. “You asked me to stay, you bint! Don’t act like you don’t remember. You’re not stupid. And you can stop with the blankets. Believe me, I am not interested in seeing your naughty bits,” he lied.

It had been...a stressful evening to say the least. Her shivering and shaking might not have been a problem if the only thing that calmed her hadn’t been him cradling her in his arms. That might not have been a problem if her bum hadn’t continuously rubbed up against his genitals for the past five hours or so. So, aside from getting no sleep, he had been in a constant state of arousal all evening. He had taken to counting hippogriffs to keep from coming in his pants a few times. He wasn’t an expert or anything, but he was pretty sure that shooting off in your boxers while you were in another girl’s bed trying to comfort her was THE DEFINITION of taking advantage. But nevertheless, there had been a couple of close calls. Curse her and her peach-like arse! 

“I...I talk in my sleep,” she grumbled with embarrassment. “Now believe me . I would never invite you into my bed in my right mind.” She had definitely felt something hard nudge into her hip when she awoke. She understood that biology was a thing that existed and that teenage boys couldn’t really control their body’s morning wood, but JESUS CHRIST the mere fact that it was MALFOY’S PENIS nuzzling her sleeping form didn’t exactly thrill her.

Or did it?

“Fine.” He swung the covers back and set his feet on the ground. “Wish I had known that a few hours ago when you begged me to stay in your bed with you like some little toddler running into Daddy’s room because she had a nightmare.” He pouted mockingly at her.

“Daddy?” She found his choice of words more than suggestive.

He smirked nastily. “I mean, you can call me ‘Daddy’ if you want to, Granger.”

She scoffed and pouted. Brightest witch or not, she couldn’t come up with a snappy line with morning breath and sleep in her eyes.

“But you should know,” he continued. “I do punish bad behavior by spanking.”

She let the moment stick for a moment before she shot a Stinging Hex his way that caught him right in the arse. 

Ow ! Bad girl.”

 “Get out!”

Suddenly, he felt his pajama bottoms getting tighter—and not in the front. His backside stung and puffed up painfully. “What hex did you shoot at me? My arse is swelling fatter than Bulstrode’s!” he panicked. “Granger!” 

“Oh, Merlin! I didn’t mean to do that one.” She was suddenly alert. “Come back here. I can fix it.”

“You harpy!” He rubbed his precious bum and glared at the witch. “You will set this right.”

“Lie on your stomach,” She instructed and began muttering counter curses. They weren’t working. A memory of Madame Pomfrey came to the forefront of her mind. The mediwitch would run her free hand along the affected area while her wand was pointed.

“Fix. My. Arse, Granger,” the incapacitated brat demanded.

“I’m getting to it!” She gently placed her hand on his left cheek and recited the spells once again. As her delicate hands gently stroked his cheek back and forth, the swelling subsided. “It’s working! Just a few more incantations on this side, I’ll move to the other one.” 

Hmmm . That felt good. He might have woken up in a shit mood with a shrieking little witch yelling in his ear, but now he was receiving a delightful butt massage. He had to hand it to her. Granger was good with her hands. 

“Ahh,” he stifled a moan as her finger grazed a little too low and little too close to his ever-inflating balls.

Hermione felt a twinge in her gut as her hand was no longer running along swollen tissue, but taut muscle. She swallowed hard and fought the urge to squeeze. The warmth from his body radiated through the layers of clothing. He heat was comforting, inviting even. His body beckoned to be stripped of clothing. She shook her head trying to gain some self-control. “Um, I think this one is good. I’ll do the other side now.”

Yeah, it’s good, alright. He bit his lip to keep his breathing under control. Please touch me some more . He wouldn’t dare ask for it, but he hoped she would want to do it of her own accord. To help her in her decision, he flexed his glutes.

Her hands were shaky as she moved to the other side. Yes, she technically was touching him over his clothes (which she reminded herself of this fact for the second time) but this felt quite intimate. Hermione Granger had shot Draco Malfoy in the arse and was now rubbing him down. Yeah, strange turn in events for sure. The swelling had entirely subsided but still she continued giving him a gentle massage.

Draco was in a right state. In the last ten minutes he had been accused of foul play, yelled at, hexed, and now rubbed. Hermione Granger was rubbing his arse ! And he was letting her. Scratch that. He was loving it.

“Um, Draco,” she said meekly, “Did the hex affect any other part of you? Your lower back or your legs?”

“You can touch me anywhere you want, Granger,” he said in a husky, relaxed voice that sounded quite different from his usual sneering tone.

She bit her lip, and moved her hands to his lower back. “Does this area hurt?” With the precision of a skilled masseuse she began kneading. “Did the hex hit here?” 

“ maybe?”  he lied. He just wanted to be touched. To be honest, this term has been stressful as hell. Who knew a massage from the resident swot would feel so damn delicious?

Without thinking, she straddled him and sat atop his arse and let her hands rub up and down the full length of his spine. “How does this feel? Better? I could...I mean...If you want to take off your shirt, I have some lotion.”

“Get it. Get the lotion,” he said in that same shaky, nervous voice as he shed his shirt. “It feels good, Granger.” He licked his lips as he felt the patch of the small of his back warm from where her pussy straddled it. Only a flimsy amount of cloth from her pajamas separated the skin of his back from her pussy. “So fucking good.” 

“Well, you know…” she swallowed thickly. “It’s the least I can do since I hexed you.”

His back arched into her and he hummed from the pleasure of her hands on him. She placed her dainty thumbs on either side of his spine and ran them from his tailbone all the way up to his neck. He felt her chest hover him as she worked all the knots out of his sore neck and shoulders. “Run your fingers through my hair. That always relaxes me.” He instructed. There was nothing overly sexual about his tone or overly commanding. It was casual and inviting. That word again. Everything he said or did urged her to take the next steps.

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as she moved with him and obeyed his request. Holy fuck, she was riding Malfoy like a rodeo cowboy on a prize bull! Literally! Like...she was literally riding him right now as his hips bucked into her mattress. “H-h-hold still. I…” she bit her lip nervously. “I’m not quite finished yet.” His hair felt silky and wonderful between her fingers. How many girls had fantasized about the way his hair would feel under their hands? He hummed in approval, which only made her double her efforts. When a nail grazed his scalp, he growled low in his throat. The sound of it went right to her clit.

Draco had to adjust his hips slightly to accommodate his growing erection, what he wasn’t expecting was her gasp. His tailbone had shifted to put pressure in just the right spot between her legs.

She didn’t even realize she was doing it. Her hips tilted to get the most friction possible. Squirmed against him while her hands continued to roam his body. Her body gyrated against his coccyx and raked her fingers down his arms. “Draco, you’re so tense,” she panted.

“Help me untense, Granger,” he whispered.

“I’m going to.” Her nails lightly scraped the sensitive skin of his arms, coaxing an appreciative groan from Draco. “Did that hurt?”

“Feels so good.” Salazar’s balls, he was hard. He didn’t even care that he was full-on humping her bed. His mind was a blank except for the burning hot imperative to get off. 

Hermione tore her shirt off and pressed her chest against his back and went back to massaging his scalp and temples. “Is this extra pressure okay?” There was no devilish suggestion to her voice, it was soothing. As if she planned on using her body to as part of this ‘healing’ process.

Yesss .” The feel of her body up against his took everything to the next level. If grinding his erection into her bed didn’t feel too good to stop, he’d have rolled them both over by now, pinned her under him, and fucked her silly.

“You have such beautiful hair.” She ran her nose along the column of his neck to his hairline, “and it smell so nice.”

“So do you.” His voice cracked on the last word.

“Do I?”

“You smell amazing.” The scent of her arousal had him weeping in his pants. She was as wet for him as he was hard for her. “You feel amazing,” he mumbled. He wished he could feel more of her.

“I think your upper body has had enough attention.”

He gasped, fearing she would stop. Instead, she swiveled her body around and pushed down his pajama bottoms and started massaging the backs of his legs and inner thighs. Draco could feel her legs squeeze around his hips. She still managed to find blissful pressure at this angle. There was no doubt about it. She was doing the exact same thing he was doing right now. She was trying to get off. He ground his hips even harder to help her. Sure enough, she gasped and he could have come right then and there if he hadn’t decided that he would not be coming until she did. That said, he needed her to hurry up and get on with it. “Granger, you’ll feel it more if you take those horrid pajamas off.”

“Feel what?” she lied. Hermione was so lost in the sensation of touching him and feeling him between his legs, her playing dumb was well...dumb. She knew she wasn’t fooling anyone.

“M-my…” he panted, “ tension .”

“I—I—” she stuttered looking for a retort. “Oh, fuck it.” She stood for a moment and removed the rest of her clothes and sat on his bare back.

“Now mine,” Draco demanded. “ Now.

Hermione gulped as she removed his pajama pants and...his angry, pink erection jutted out and said ‘hello’ to her.

Neither said anything about the fact that they were both totally naked and dangerously close to coming.

Draco moaned loudly as he felt Hermione Granger’s wet, smooth pussy grind against his back. “ Sh-sh-shit ...Granger, I…”

She also sucked in a breath. “Don’t talk.”

His back arched off the bed, causing even more friction against Hermione’s sensitive clit. “I’ll talk if I want to. Keep touching me and I’ll give you more.”

She grabbed onto his shoulders to keep from falling off. He’d better not think he had the upper hand here. After all, he was the one biting a fucking pillow while she rode him . She might as well be sporting a strap on for the position they were in. “Whatever do you mean, Malfoy?”

“Shut up and ride me, swot.”

She mashed his head into her pillow to get him to stop talking. Leaning down and pressing her naked breasts against his back, she whispered in his ear. “I’m not your bitch, Malfoy. You’re my bitch.”

Sweet Salazar those were her nipples pebbling into hard little peaks on his lower shower blades. He wished he could see them.

Mmmm ,” Hermione moaned, biting her lip as Draco arched his back up into her tits, causing the nerve endings in her nipples to sing with joy.

You’re the bitch, Granger. I won’t say it again. Ride me.”

“Fuck…” She clawed and grabbed onto any part of him she could. Her hand slipped under his throat and cupped it carefully, as to not choke him. She rocked her body faster and faster against his body. “Do you like massages, Malfoy?”  

“I fucking love them,” he said as the nerves in his dick sprinted towards the inevitable summit that is Orgasm. “Maybe I should give you one next.” He could have wept with joy as her tits bounced faster against his back. If she’d take him up on his offer, he had every intention of biting and sucking on those naughty breasts of hers. He wondered if her nipples were more pink or brown. Or perhaps somewhere in between. Like a dusky rose.

“I think that’s a brilliant…” her words were cut off by exquisite moans and wails as she reached her climax. She sat up straight and rocked harder and harder, riding out her wave. “Oh! My! God!”

And... that was his cue. He let go and absolutely coated her comforter in Malfoy cum, releasing an almighty roar worthy of the Gryffindor with whom he’d just engaged in the weirdest sex of his life.

She didn’t wait for him to finish. Hermione rolled him over and just covered the cum with her blanket. “My turn for a massage.”

It took him a moment to register his words. He was still breathless, dick still pulsing and dribbles of cum trying to find their way out. “You’re serious?”

“What? You can’t go more than once, Malfoy?”

With a growl, he shot up and latched his mouth onto her right nipple, which was a dusky rose, by the way. He sucked and nibbled, and gave her the exact kind of massage he felt she deserved as he rolled her nipple over his wet, willing tongue.

“Mmm…” she moaned under wicked tongue play. “Touch me. Make me feel good.” Her words were simple. Nothing eloquent. She just needed her senses engaged.

If his refractory period wasn’t currently underway, thereby ensuring that his penis’s abilities were intermittent at the moment, he would have shoved his cock so deep inside her, she would have felt it in that giant egghead brain of hers. But his fingers and mouth still worked. As his tongue licked a stripe across her chest to take the neglected breast into his mouth, his fingers circled her too-sensitive clit.

She shivered violently. “Too...too much.”

“I don’t think so,” he mumbled into her breast. “That’s why you want me to touch you, right? So you can come again?”


“Oh, I know what you want. Stand on your knees.” He waited for her to comply. He brought his lips to her clit and kissed it gently. His hands moved to her arse cheeks and gently kneaded as he placed soft kisses and tender licks on her lower lips. “This. Is this what you want? You want me to slow it down and touch you all over?”

Yes. Yes, Malfoy. Eat my cunt. Eat my... Ahhhhh !” She had not expected him to insert a finger that was still covered in her juices into her arsehole. She didn’t even know she wanted it until he did it. He pumped that finger as he lapped at her. Deftly, drove his tongue into her slit and savored her feminine saltiness. Slowly plunged his tongue over and over while continuing to finger her arsehole and rubbing his clit. Her moans just encouraged him on. She ground her pussy against his mouth and chin. “Fuck I want to cum on your face.”

He knew the feeling. Oh boy, did he ever. His refractory period was long gone and his boner was back with a vengeance. Coming on Hermione Granger’s face would be the perfect way to kick off his day. He dropped the hand that wasn’t currently playing with her arse to his cock and pumped languidly as he enjoyed his breakfast.

Her eyes shot down to watch what he was doing. “Yes, jack yourself off, Draco. Show me what you would do to my pussy if I let you. Stroke that cock.”

“You—you’ll let me,” he said, his voice vibrating across her sensitive folds and clit. “And you’ll enjoy it.”

“Just keep…” Hermione was so close, it hurt. When she came, she wondered if she would bust a blood vessel. Or pop a joint out of place. Or have an aneurysm. Or… “ Ahhh-ahhhh-ooooh-AHHHHHHH!!!!!

Draco licked his lips wanting every drop of juice for himself. Despite his wealthy upbringing, he was not raised to be wasteful. And after all, he was a growing boy. “You taste so fucking good. Now time for you to find out how I taste.” He stood up and put his cock to her lips, urging her to pry them open. “Now, now, Granger. Time for you to reciprocate.”

Hermione’s body was covered in a faint red flush and fine sheen of sweat. She was utterly disoriented as he nudged her lips open with his fingers as he jerked off over her mouth. She licked her lips and began to part her lips.

“You...fucking...kinky...bitch,” he spat out between jolts of pleasure. “Just fucking...suck me, Granger. Suck my cock.”

She opened her mouth and welcomed him eagerly. The time for licking and teasing was over. Instead she tilted her head and engulfed him fully. She sucked drove he cock deeper down her throat. He pumped in and out of her pretty orifice.  

“Gods, Granger, you’re so much hotter when your mouth’s stuffed with my cock. Let’s see you try to talk now.”

Hermione sucked and released with a pop, “You’re going to cum down my throat and rub your cock on my lips.” She wanted him to do some depraved shit and she was so into it.

Maybe he spoke too soon. Apparently she could still talk. But who fucking cared when she had such brilliant ideas as that? He fucked her mouth faster and faster, “You like that, Granger? You like my cock in your mouth? You’re so fucking dirty. I was right all along. Filthy is amazing.”

She continued to suck and take him in but she wanted to return the favor and slipped a finger up his arse. Hermione knew that men had a spot, just like women did.

Aaaand...apparently, she had found it because Draco started squealing . His thrusts became more erratic. “I...oh, yes, please. I’m gonna…” Both hands disappeared into her hair as he pulled her off of him and began jerking off furiously while prying her lips open with his fingers. It only took a few pumps before Draco went cross-eyed and nearly lost footing as he came all over and into Hermione’s mouth. Hot, sticky ropes of cum coated her tongue, her lips, her chin. She licked it all up like a good girl and grabbed the still-erect penis and rubbed it over her lips as if he was applying lipstick for a night on the town.

“Your cum tastes so good.” She licked his sensitive member causing him to shiver and wince. Hermione took a finger to gather the cum that had landed on her face away from tongue’s reach and placed it in her mouth.

After several moments where Draco was sure he had gone either temporarily insane (because there is no way Hermione Granger just let him do that to her!) or brain dead (because Merlin almighty, that was one good cracking orgasm)...maybe both… the two collapsed into the rumpled sheets and allowed their breaths to catch up with them.

Neither said anything for several moments. They avoided eye contact like they hadn’t just played instrumental, if not direct, parts in making one another come twice.

Hermione spoke first. “I can’t believe you just ate me out.”

He scoffed. “ I can’t believe you just ate my cum.”

They giggled, each too shy and too scared to talk about it yet. Draco yawned.

“Tired?” she asked.

He smirked, scratching his jaw. “Yeah. You see there was this girl who woke me up in the middle of the night with a nightmare. Then she wouldn’t let me go back to my room once I checked on her, and her pretty arse rubbed up against me all night and had me teetering on the cusp of orgasm. So, I didn’t get any sleep.”

She giggled. “Sounds awful.”

“Was it ever. And just now, she wouldn’t let me get back to sleep. She woke me up shrieking and then she ravished me so thoroughly, I still haven’t regained feeling in my toes.”

She rolled her eyes. “I hardly ravished you.” She bit her lip, obviously amused by his little story.

As he watched her teeth worry her bottom lip, it occurred to him that despite everything they had done together, he still hadn’t kissed her. Well...not on the lips, at least.

“Hold still,” he instructed. Before she could even open her mouth to ask why, his lips descended on hers in a sleepy, yet forceful kiss.

Her eyelids fluttered closed. Shit. She fucking liked him. When his lips pulled off of hers and he gave her a languid smile, she found herself wishing for the impossible. “Do you want to stay here? We have a few hours until classes,” she urged.

He smiled, his ears still ringing from his orgasm. Orgasm s . “Yeah. Alright.”


Draco woke up with a start. His heart was light and he jumped on his bed. “Today is the greatest day of the year! Valentine’s Day! And I’m in love with the most beautiful, innocent, smart, brilliant, perfect girl ever!” He swayed side to side and grabbed the post of his bed, doing his best Gene Kelly impression. Draco sighed joyfully. “Why doesn’t everyone fall in love? It’s the best feeling in the world!”  

Theodore Nott pulled the drapes of his four poster open, disdain and sarcasm dripping from every pore. “Shut the fuck up. This is the worst holiday ever. And there is no way you love Granger.”

“But I do!” he sang. “And today, I’m going to ask her to marry me!”

“Yeah, teen engagement. That sounds promising. I hope you have a prenup.”

“We don’t need a prenup, we’re in LOVE!”

Theo face palmed himself. “You fuckers are so goddamned stupid.”

“No, Nott. It’s love. Unexplainable, true love.”

“Someone Avada me. Or at least a serious sedative to get me through this day.”

“You just need a Valentine.”

“You need a swift kick in the arse.” But Theo knew it was hopeless. If Draco thought he was in love with Granger, despite never having had a real conversation with the chit, there was no way to dissuade him. “For how long have you been in ‘love?’”

“Since she punched me in the face third year.”

Another facepalm. “Oi.”

Chapter Text


By MotherofBulls and SaintDionsysus

Day Eight: Fluff and Valentine’s Day


“For the actual sake of fuck, Draco. DO NOT leave this common room.” Theo scrambled for his wand hoping to restrain him or see if he were under some type of love potion or charm.


With a belligerent smile that reached his ears, he ignored his friend and skipped out of the dorm. Theo rolled his eyes mightily and followed him out. “Fine. But you’d better not leave these dungeons.”


Draco’s white-blond hair disappeared behind the dungeon door as he skipped on his way to the Great Hall like a puppy about to wet himself.


The mood was perfect. Someone had enchanted stone cherubs to swing sweet love songs on their itty bitty wittle harps while fairies left trails of glitter and rose petals down the halls.


“Theo, don’t you just love Valentine’s Day?”


“No.” He deadpanned. “And I’m not particularly in the mood to babysit either. Okay, Draco. What are you on?”


“I’m high on looooooooove.” He sang then jumped and clicked his heels in the air.


Theo slapped his forehead, “For fuck’s sake. I think you’re broken.”


Draco’s eyes scanned the Great Hall as he muttered under his breath. “Granger, Granger, Granger, Granger. Where are youuuuu? Ah. There you are.”


Theo grabbed his friend by the collar as he attempted to walk towards the girl.


A mass of riotous curls popped up from the Gryffindor Table and swished back and forth in slow motion. She rose from the table and the choir of cherubs sang her praises, as if she were sent from the heavens. A golden glow from the morning sun highlighted every inch of her creamy, flawless skin and gleaming smile.


Draco’s pupils turned into actual fucking hearts as he looked at her. “She’s beautiful.”


Theo examined her. “Her face is alright, but she’s a little too skinny for my tas—”




“Okay. Fucking fine. Jesus. She’s perfect. I’d tap it...even if she has no arse...” Theo raised his hands in surrender.


Draco glared. “You keep your mitts off of her.”


“Whatever, mate. She’s a perfectly fine-looking girl and you should go for it if you want. But for fuck’s sake, do not drop the “L” word at her. And don’t you fucking dare ask her to--”

“Marry me? I can’t wait!” Aaaand...he was off.


Theo rolled his eyes. “I fucking give up.”



“Ginny,” Hermione said to her ginger-haired friend as she looked down the Hall. “I-I can’t explain this. Malfoy has this determined look and I find it... sexy.”


Ginny choked on her toast and hacked up the crumbs. After taking a big swig of pumpkin juice, she questioned, “What in the bleeding hell are you talking about? He’s a ferret. A pointy-faced ferret.”


“No. I’m feeling...something there that wasn’t there before.” (Yeah I’m a shit head who used a Beauty and the Beast reference.) “Ginny, I...I think I love him.”






Draco Malfoy?”




“Have you ever had a conversation with him where he didn’t throw a racial slur at you?”


“Oh, Ginny. You know he was only acting that way because if he didn’t, he’d be in trouble with his father or something. It was just posturing , Ginny. My Dray (omg I’m going to barf) loves me.”


Ginny’s eyes widened. “Okay. Fine.” She held out her hand to Hermione. “It was wonderful being friends with you, but I’m afraid this thing has come to its natural end. You are obviously insane.”


“You’re so funny.”


“I’m not kidding. I genuinely can’t even stand to look at you right now.”

Hilarious !”


“Shake my fucking hand, Hermione.”


“Oh. Oh! Here he comes. Act normal.”


Ginny gaped. “ You’re telling me to act normal????”


Draco approached the table with heart eyes. “Hi Hermione,” he said bashfully.


She bit her lip, “Draco.”


Theo covered his face not wanting to see this horror show play out. “I don’t know if I can be a part of this. I think I need Goyle or Crabbe. Maybe one of those meatheads can pummel some sense into you.”


Ginny glared at the pair as they stared longingly into each other’s eyes. “I need a drink...I wonder if I could sucker a house elf into putting some firewhisky into my coffee...”


Theo nodded. “I need carbs. No joke. This is enough to make me eat carbs again.” He slapped his own face. “Bad Theo. No carbs. Daddy won’t love you if you get fat.”


Ginny made a face at him. “Slytherins are weird. Have a muffin, Nott. You’re honestly so thin, you look like some Victorian lady should be feeding you soup.” She shoved the bread into his face with such force it would make her mother proud.


He groaned with sheer pleasure. “OHMYFUHCKINGGOFF,” He mumbled with his mouth full. After choking the food, he praised, “Carbs. Butter. This must be heaven. Do you eat like this all the time, Weasley? No wonder you’ve got cankles.”


“You make me sad, Nott, and a little angry.” She then shoved a sausage in his mouth. “Maybe if you ate you’d be less of a prick.”


While the force feeding continued, Hermione and Draco just stared at each other in sheer admiration. Their world just stopped.






“I think—”




“I mean, I know—”




“I’m desperately in love with you. Have been since you slapped me in third year.”


“Aw, that’s so sweet.”


“I want to—”




“Marry you. Because I don’t believe in sex before marriage and I totally want to make love to you too.”


“I don’t believe in sex before marriage either!”


What luck. Draco found a virgin bride of his dreams. “Marry me. Today. On the most romantic day of the year!”


Theo started choking on the massive amount of food Ginny had placed in his gob. She gave him a strong whack on the back and the sausage, potatoes, and toast hit Draco on the side of his face.


Draco wiped his face as if nothing had happened and dropped to his knee. “Make me the happiest man in the world!”


Hermione nodded eagerly in agreement. “Of course. How could I say no?”


Ginny shrugged. “I wash my hands of that bitch. We are no longer friends.”


Theo nodded vehemently. “ Right ? Why the everloving fuck did they just wake up this morning and decide that they loved each other?”


Those accursed cherubs wore a terribly guilty expression, and flew away.


“Weaslette, did you see that?” Nott asked.


Ginny looked up and saw one of the cherubs pull his bow, ready to let an arrow fly. Theo pushed her out of the way. She fell onto to cold stone and winced in pain. “Oi, you fucker.”


Luckily he had also dodged the arrow. “Fuck this. Those little stone fuckers are real cupids. Hell no. I’m not dealing with this.”


Before Ginny and Theo were able to come to the realization of what had happened to Draco and Hermione, They were gone.




“Professor, we’d like for you to officiate our wedding?” Draco said to Snape as he held Hermione’s hand lovingly.


Snape licked a finger as he turned a page in his book, The Art of Getting Even , and pointedly refused to glance up at the couple. “No.”


Please , Uncle Sev! I love her so very, very much! I can’t stand to live another second where we’re not married.”


“You’re both idiots,” Snape drawled, still not looking up from his book.


“Oh, please Professor Snape. I promise that you won’t regret it.”


“I regret every decision I’ve ever made Miss Granger. I regret becoming a teacher. I regret this conversation.”


Please !” Draco whined. “ Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl—


Alright, you little brat! Jesus fucking Christ. I can’t even with the students here. If I do this, do you both promise to go away?”


“Of course! We are just so happy you want to be part of our blessed union,” Draco beamed.


Snape raised his eyebrow disapprovingly. The little shits were under some spell, but honestly, he didn’t give a shit right now. They were insipidly aggravating and he just wanted to read his book and have his afternoon smoke. “Stand.”


They stood up straight and took each other’s hands.


“You’re holding your hands wrong.” He jerked them apart, crossed their arms, and instructed them to grasp wrists. “Do you?” Draco nodded. “Do you?” Hermione nodded as well. Snape flicked his wrist and a ribbon of golden light entwined the pair. “It’s done you’re married. Get out of my office.”


“That’s it?” Hermione looked disappointed. “I thought it would be more romantic and poetic—”


“Get. Out.” Snape sneered through gritted teeth.


Draco dragged her by hand out of the classroom. “It’s now time to consummate our love!”


“It’ll be amazing…” She sighed wistfully.



The Room of Requirement. A room that gives a person what they need. And right now, Draco and Hermione needed  to lose their awkward virginities to one another in the most romantic way possible.


Hermione’s eyes shone with happy tears. “It’s beautiful, Draco. It’s just how I pictured my first time would be.”


“Me too,” he said, his eyes equally shining. “I’ve imagined my wedding day since I was a little gir--er, I mean boy. And I’ve imagined myself losing my virginity to you and taking your lovely maiden flower a thousand times since the first time I saw your celestial face.”

(I hate you) (Haha!) (this seems a million times worse than butt stuff and cumming on tits) (I totally agree. It's dirtier. More depraved. Unnatural.)


The room reeked of roses, as a giant rose monster appeared to have thrown up all over the goddamned place. A silky canopy bed was right smack dab in the middle of the room. Candles floated all over the room, creating a rather adorable fire hazard. Some hot jazz (people find this shit romantic? My vagina is actually clamming up at this imagery. This is...wrong...) played softly from...who the hell knows where it was coming from, but it was there. The soft glow and stifling smell of the rose petals washed over the ridiculous couple as they stood holding each others hands and gazing into one another’s eyes. They did not make a move to undress for some time. They just stared. And smiled. A single glistening tear slid down Hermione’s cheek. She was so happy.


And she had no idea why.


Draco sniffed a bit too, stifling a tear of his own. “We...we haven’t even kissed yet.” He moved in closer and gently cupped her face ( because that’s how my husband always passionately kisses me, but placing his hands all over my cheeks…) and placed his lips upon hers. It was truly magical. As if a million tiny barbs shocked his body. The chorus sang once again, heightening their experience. He deepened the kiss, their tongues battling for they played tonsil hockey...savoring every flavor...they made out. Okay? They made out.   (It ain’t fanfiction unless tongues are battling for dominance.)


She moaned into his mouth enjoying this play of mouth organs tingling her senses. “My body is ready for you. Help me undress. I want our bodies to be one.”


They undressed one another carefully and lovingly, folding their clothes and placing them neatly on a nearby settee. They stood naked before one another, flushed and virginal. Each batting their eyelashes bashfully.


“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” He said to her. Draco took her hand and kissed it gently. “I want to make love to you in make all your wildest dreams come true.” He was devoid of all sarcasm or ire. His entire body was full of love...including his penis.


Hermione did not have wildest dreams. She was the Gryffindor Princess and Gryffindor Princesses are sweet and pure. “Give me your love, Draco. I want to be full of your love.”


He took her by the hand and led her to the bed. The laid there side by side, admiring one another. Draco too the first step and grazed his hand over her small breasts. He sucked in a breath, “They’re perfect.”


She took the next step and ran her hand down this chest and stopped at his tuft of wiry blond pubic hair, which was surprisingly darker than the hair on his head. Pubes are weird. “Can I touch it?”


“Please.” He guided her hand to grasp around his member ( such a weird word) and together they moved her petite hands up and down his shaft. “See that, My Love. That will be you soon. I’ll fill you with my manhood. And we’ll make sweet love.”  


“I—I want that. I want you to fill my womanhood with your manhood. Fill me, Draco.”


“Wait. I want to make sure you’re ready.” He easily slid a finger into her Cave of Wonders. ( And now an Aladdin reference. Yup. I’m fucking up your childhood.) He pumped his finger in and out of her slowly. “How does this feel, darling?”


She mewled, “Divine!”


“I’m going to put my penis inside your vagina now, Hermione. I want you to be absolutely ready, because I think it’s supposed to hurt you and feel brilliant for me. Does that sound fair?”


“Yes! Do it!”


In the most fluid, graceful motion that has ever existed, the two beings slid against one another, giant smiles on their faces which never faltered, and lost their virginities to one another.


Draco smiled as he rocked into her. “This feels wonderful, my dear, sweet love. Who knew sex was so fantastic?”


Everyone. Literally everyone.


“I know. I read in a book somewhere that the first time was supposed to hurt. But my insides feel like a Vivaldi symphony right now. It’s light and dewy and full of sunshine. Oh, how I love you, Draco.”


“Indeed, my sweet. I love you too,” he said, thrusting his penis into her vagina repeatedly. “Let’s make a baby !!!!”


“Oh yes! Yes ! YES !”


His penis did not rub against her clit, for he was only just no longer a virgin and did not yet know where the clit was, or even what it was. However, that didn’t matter. In a single moment of perfect synergy, Draco and Hermione came so spectacularly that the heavens themselves wept in jealousy. He pounded and felt his penis spew more semen than he knew his body could hold while her vagina willingly accepted his seed. This was love. True Love. First Love. The type of lovey dovey love in rom-coms released on Valentine’s that prey on single girls with low self-esteem. That damn choir started singing again. As they pulled apart, rainbows shone with their genitals masking the ickiness of bodily fluids.


It was dope.


“I knew this would be magical!” Hermione hollered. “Everything about you is the best. You were right to be so boastful!”


He smiled brightly. “You were wonderful too.”


Of course she was. It was a virginal penis inside of a teeny tiny virginal vagina. Obviously she was awesome. He had nothing to compare it to.


“You know, Dray, I think I might be pregnant too.”


“Already? Well, that’s good. I’ll need an heir. If it’s a girl, we have to name it Lyra or Cassiopeia--Cassie for short--because those are the best constellation girl names that haven’t already been taken by a living generation. And if it’s a boy, we have to name it Scorpius, because duh, or Caelum, because bad ass.”


“Perfect!” Hermione leaned into his naked chest and made nonsense patterns on his skin. “We’ll be together forever. I love astronomy almost as much as I love you.”


“I can’t wait to tell Mother.”



Knock, knock, knock .


“Draco, dear? Are you awake? Today’s the big day.”


“Mmmmslp,” he mumbled into his pillow. He had just had a dream that was...what exactly was the opposite of a wet dream? A dry dream? Yeah. He had just had one of those. A dream so unarousing that it dried him up inside. He could swear his nutsack receded into his body at the thought of making little star babies with Hermione Granger.


Knock, knock, knock .




What ?”


“Don’t take that tone with me young man. I will fuck you up so bad, your entrails will become your extrails.” Don’t mess with Narcissa Malfoy.


“Five more minutes, Mother.”

“Draco, if you don’t get up now, you’ll miss the beginning of the auction. You know they always start with the prize. Don’t you want to take home the prize Mudblood or be stuck with some wannabe?”


Draco’s shackles raised (whatever that means). Mudblood auction ? But that would mean…


“Uh...Mother? Is the Dark Lord still alive?”


Shhhh ! Don’t say that too loudly. What if he hears you?”



Chapter Text


By MotherofBulls and SaintDionysus

Day Nine: Voldemort Wins



Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-SHIT! Draco hated this dream. He had gotten so used to Voldemort being dead and NOT in his house. And he really fucking liked it that way. Aside from the fact that he was a psychopathic overlord, he was a bloody awful houseguest. Always leaving dirty towels on the floor and never offering to chip in money for food.


“Draco, darling, I won’t say it again. Get out of bed and get dressed.” With one final knock on the door, signalling that she meant it , Narcissa left him to his own devices.

He doubted what he was about to do next would work, but it was worth a shot. “Dobby?”

“Yes, Master Draco!”

Draco jumped a bit in his Snitch pajamas. No matter how long he lived in a house with these things, he’d never get over how creepy house elves were. “Oh, Dobby. You’re alive.”

“Master Draco was expecting Dobby to be dead, sir?”

“Just maybe stay away from sharp objects and my Auntie Bella and you’ll be fine,” he said with a waive of his hand. “Dobby, I need you to help me get dressed. What sort of clothes does one wear when one is about to purchase Hermione Granger.”

“Dobby hears Miss Granger likes knitted hats, sir.” The elf twisted his dirty rags, wishing he had a knitted hat of his own.

“I never wear knits in front of anyone outside the immediate family, Dobby. You know this. Keep up!”

Dobby rolled his eyes. “Dobby rather thinks Master Draco looks nice in the navy suit.”

“But will she like it, Dobby?”

Dobby shrugs. “Dobby guesses.” Although privately, Dobby doubts Miss Granger will like anything about Master Draco when he is buying her, but Dobby keeps that to Dobby’s self. Why is you wanting Miss Hermione? Dobby thought you didn’t like...” he whispered slowly, “ Mudbloods.”

“Dobby, how long have you known me?” Draco asked.

“Dobby has been serving the most ancient, noble house of Malfoy all of Dobby’s life,” he answered in a dull, even voice.

“Then tell me...was I a generous child? Did I play well with others? Did I share my toys and was I happy for my friends when they acquired a toy no one else could get?”

Dobby cowered slightly.

“You may answer honestly.” He crossed his hands in front of his body, and rolled his shoulders back, preparing for the elf’s reponse.

“Young Master Draco was none of these things. Young Master Draco was not a good sharer.”

“Well, neither is Adult Master Draco. Hermione Granger will be the prize of the evening, and I won’t see her go to a peasant. What do we always say, Dobby?” He pointed finger guns at the elf, cueing him to say his part.


“How clever you are, Dobby. Now, please bring me something buttery and sweet to eat for breakfast and something Firewhiskeyish to wash it down.”

“Yes, Master Draco.” He Apparated away.

As Draco continued to preen and primp, concern washed over his face. Would Granger be clean? Oh, and the smell. She always smelled so sweet. long was she in the dungeons? She could be positively minging. Will they scrub and wax her all Hunger Games style before bringing her out? Because that would be nice. Nothing like nice, clean, smooth ladybits. But if she was all dirty and crusty...well, yeah. Maybe just prepare a nice bath for her either way. And make sure a razor is kept nearby. One of those safe little pink ones. Not one that she could slice his neck open with.

“Let’s do this,” he said, winking at himself in the mirror.



There was no Hunger Games beautification. She looked like someone had perhaps scrubbed her face with a warm washcloth before putting her onstage, but nothing aside from that. No matter. She wouldn’t be up there long. Soon she would be safe and sound and in his bathtub, positively purring with gratitude over him saving her from an older, less attractive, more Deathy Voldy minion. He imagined that big, beautiful brain of hers would be positively ringing with lovely ideas on how to show her gratitude to hi--

“Twenty thousand Galleons!” Someone Else said.

Excuse you! ” Draco said, his voice dripping with indignation.

“Twenty-Five thousand Galleons!” Another called with great enthusiasm.

“Hey, now. That’s just rude. You can’t possibly afford--”

“Thirty thousand!” The first Some Else said.

Draco grabbed him by the scuff of his shirt. “Now, I’m about to say ‘thirty-five thousand’ and when I do, you understand that even if you raise me forty, I can do this all goddamned day. You realize that, right? Because I can. And you can either make this a bargain for me, or you can continue to irritate me. What’s it going to be?”

Someone else sighed. “Whatever. I’ll take one of the ugly ones.”

“Good man.” Draco released him and straightened his tie. “Thirty-five thousand!”

“Did someone confirm her innocence?”  Another voice called. The auctioneer nodded and paddles started shooting up to bid.

Draco was getting mad. His face reddened and he puffed himself up like a fearless little kitten. “ ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND GALLEONS AND IF ANYONE TRIES TO OUTBID ME, THEY CAN FIGHT ME!

The room gasped at the young man’s outburst and all dropped their paddles.

Hermione Granger just rolled her eyes and mumbled something that a seasoned lip-reader might construe as “Fucking wonderful.”

Draco hopped up on stage, signed the transfer paperwork, and took her by the hand. He was almost sad to see her so compliant. He wondered if they had given her something before putting her onstage. A calming agent or something his mother or one of her friends might take when they have their “special ladies teas” Father wasn’t supposed to know about. Draco only knew about it because when he was sixteen, one of the ladies got lost on the way back from the loo and ran into him. And that’s how he lost his virginity. To be honest, the woman was a fucking starfish.

“Excited?” he asked Hermione.

She shrugged. “I don’t even know how to begin to answer that question.” She allowed herself to be led to the Apparition point. “But you could be worse.”

“I saved you!” Draco said gleefully, oblivious to her lack of enthusiasm.

Hermione sneered, “Moron,” she uttered under her breath. There was so much more she wanted to say, but just didn’t have the energy. The one thing she did know was that he smelled nice and that a bath and a hot meal most definitely awaited her.



Draco knocked on the bathroom door. “Hey, Granger. Can I come in?”

“For the thousandth time, no . You may not.” BATHS WERE THE BEST! She conjured a rubber ducky and played with it in the bath. It had been so long since she had had a bath. The best she’d gotten lately were Scourgifies . “I love this bath,” she said to the ducky.

She might have gone a wee bit batty whilst in Azkaban. But nothing irreversible. Nothing crazy. I MEAN...nothing too bad. She probably wouldn’t murder Malfoy in his sleep. Eighty percent sure she wouldn’t. Seventy, thirty.

“Are you sure you don’t need help with your back? I could get those hard-to-reach places. Maybe comb your hair? I even purchased special long toothed combs for curly hair.” He pleaded, wanting to gain her trust...and maybe get a peek at the goods.

“No, thank you,” she said absently, drowning her rubber ducky. “Goodnight, Ducky,” she said in an ominous, hollow voice.

Baths were great.

When she finally emerged wearing a fluffy bath robe, she smelled like bath and was scrubbed fresh and pink. Draco was delighted. “I suppose I should give you the grand tour.” He walked over to the bed. “This is really all you’ll need to know. This is pretty much where you’ll live for the remainder of your life.” His smile was darkly naive. He really had no idea how much this news did not thrill her.

“Is that why you’re so pale? You never leave this Manor? I mean if you purchased me, you can take me anywhere right? Can’t I be in captivity in somewhere...I don’t know...Ibiza? Or the Seychelles? Do I have to be your bitch on a leash in Death Eater Central?” A little glimmer of the old Hermione began to emerge. “I mean if I was Lord Voldemort, I would start my expansion to the continent...Wouldn’t you like to be the general over say, Monaco?”    

Draco’s chin wobbled a bit. “But none of those places have me there. Or my bed. Together.”

Hermione grimaced. If she kept making that face, she knew it was going to get stuck that way. “ I’m not going to have sex with you, you disgusting little rodent!

Draco’s eyes became dead to the world. “Oh. That possibility had literally not occurred to me.” He chewed on his bottom lip. “Are you sure ? I’m very good.”

“I’m sure, Malfoy.” She clenched her vagina at the sheer thought of the scenario.

He smiled condescendingly at her. “Maybe you just need time to adjust. Get used to the idea.”

“I doubt it, but whatever.” She had resisted madness in Azkaban. She could resist Stockholm Syndrome whilst living in Draco Malfoy’s bedroom. It was old and dank. The thought of generations of Malfoy boys wanking in this room. Probably in the same mattress. She wondered if purebloods knew about dust mights and the importance of changing a mattress every eight years. Probably not.

The two were silent for several long moments. The clock ticked loudly in the deafening silence between them.

“Are you ready now?” Draco asked.

“You know, I can still do wandless magic. I can make you my bitch if I want.”

Draco considered this briefly. “Hmmm. No. I don’t think that would be as much fun as it sounds.” He was, after all, now and forever, a control freak.

“Pussy,” Hermione mumbled.

“Well then,” Draco swung his arms back and forth. “What shall we do while I wait for you to fall desperately into my bed.”

“The chances of me poisoning you are far more likely. I would actually kill you if I thought it would get me out of here. Although, I suppose that is what you’d expect me to say, isn’t it, Malfoy? You expect me to fight you because not fighting you has never been an option for me. And somewhere along the way, you’ll expect me to reluctantly grow to care for you. I’ll notice the little things about you. I’ll appreciate the fact that you won’t touch me against my will the way your Death Eater chums would. (mentally checking off all the tropes in my head) Of course, we’ll sleep in the same bed and gradually... ever so gradually, the distance between our sleeping bodies will minimize. Before we know it, I’ll be pressed into you one morning when you wake up. Your erection will be flush between our bodies. I’ll involuntarily squirm in my sleep, thus creating friction between my bum and your boner. You’ll groan and debate whether or not to touch me. In the end, you won’t because you too have come to respect me too much. Several days will go by where you won’t be able to look at me. I’ll wonder what I did and I’ll lose my temper. My tantrum will end in you pressing me into a wall and before I know it, we’ll be kissing; ferocious tearing into each other’s mouths, each of us throbbing with longing. But nothing more will happen because you will shut it down, thinking that the timing is off. That I deserve better. Then later that night, I will willingly give myself to you. Trysts will become the norm. Our cravings for one another’s bodies will evolve into love and eventually, you will turn traitor to your own people, helping me escape and assisting the Light in overthrowing your Master’s reign of terror.”

At some point in her speech, she had crawled to the bed which she was currently standing on.

“Yes...I like the sound of this…You’ve put a lot of thought into this.” Draco began salivating seeing her finally in his bed. “So slow burn. Morning wood. Peachy bum. Overthrow the government. Got it. Anything else?”

“I would like a sandwich. Not just any sandwich. I want Chicken Parmigiana on focaccia with fresh basil. Oh, and an Orangina. With a straw. A pink one.” She changed her tune so quickly.

Okay, so maybe she’s gone a little bonkers. The girl literally went from spinning a hopeful tale of love in a dystopian society, to asking for the most delicious sounding sandwich. Draco also wanted one. Also the Orangina. They are lovely. A nice bit of bubbles without being too sweet. Oh, and overthrowing the Dark Lord. That sounded good too. And shagging Granger somewhere in there. He liked that bit the best. How did he fast forward to that part, again?

Hermione snapped at him. “Draco. The sandwich.”

“Ah, yes.” He could almost taste the crispy chicken.

As Draco summoned Dobby and put in her order, she realized that it would be easier than she thought—making Draco Malfoy her bitch. He desired her sexually, of course. That would be simple to exploit. She just had to make sure she didn’t slip and fuck the git—Anne Boleyn style. Hopefully she wouldn’t lose her head in the process.

“And Draco,” she purred.

“Yes?” His eyes were wide and shiney as he looked up at her while she still stood on top of his bed.

“I’ll need a fresh change of clothes. Something tasteful. Nothing trashy.”

“You’re in luck. I’ve already stocked a wardrobe for you!”

Whatever you’ve already bought me to wear, throw it all out. This will not be the sort of arrangement you thought it would be.”

His chin wobbled again. He realized he had already messed up.

She decided to throw him a bone. “But it’s so thoughtful of you to go to all that trouble. I’ll bet you even know my size, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said enthusiastically, “I do !” Years of staring at her developing form had made him something of an expert on her size. But he didn’t want to sound too creepy and said, “Madame Malkin had your measurements on file.” The truth is he had been stealing her clothes for years. Super pervy.

As he trotted away to make an appointment with the Malfoy family clothier, Hermione sighed. “Eh. What the hell? Maybe I’ll blow him or something if he’s good.”

Dobby appeared. “Does Miss Hermione want Dobby to Apparate her out of Malfoy Manor?”

Hermione sighed again. “Yeah, might as well. This probably wouldn’t have been much fun anyway.”



“Oh my fucking balls, and my head.” Draco wondered what he had eaten to deserve such hellish nightmares over the past few days. Must have been a lot of nitrates in that chicken parm.

And speaking of food, he was bloody starving ! He could have eaten a whole hippogriff. Mmm...or one of his father’s peacocks, the brutish little buggers who bite him every time he goes near the front garden. Draco’s fantasies continued, involving him devouring an array of live animals who had at some point wronged him, until he was interrupted with a knock on the door.

Right on cue, it was bloody Narcissa. Again.

“Draco Darling!” His mother called with an elf carrying a large tray of food behind her. “It’s your first shift tonight and you will need to build up your reserves. I have carpaccio, tartare, stew, blood sausage, oh, and fingerling potatoes. They’re just darling and so abundant this time of year!”

“Shift?” This felt like deja vu. “Please don’t tell me I’m a veela.”

“Don’t be silly,” she tutted. “You’re a werewolf.”

Chapter Text


By MotherofBulls and SaintDionysus

Day Ten: Lycanthropy

Narcissa urged, “Eat up, Draco. It’s winter and the moon will be rising before you know it. You need to build up your strength.”

He could feel the muscles and bones under his skin stretch and contract. Little tremors that told him his shift would be coming soon enough. Bollocks .

“Mum,” he hesitated, “I’m supposed to go on the Hogwarts Express today.” The Christmas holidays just ran past him in a blur. The timing of the lunar calendar with the school calendar couldn’t come at a worse time. His mind wandered at the thought of tearing children apart like taffy. Not exactly the kind of stuff that would get him a head boy badge.

“Draco, dear, do stop complaining. It’s not attractive.”

“But muuuum . I don’t want to be a werewolf.”

“Well,” Narcissa said, lighting a long, slim, black cigarette with a gold tip, “I didn’t want my good china to be monopolized by your father’s house guests either, did I? Do you think I relished in Fenrir Greyback kicking his feet up on my dining room table? Don’t you think I regret not drowning my darling sister back when I had the chance at grandpapa’s summer home?”

“Um...I guess.

A door swung open and the Malfoy patriarch swung open. "Ah, you’re both here. Narcissa. Head to my chambers. We need to start trying for a new heir. Draco is tainted.”

“Are you serious?” Draco admonished.

“Deadly,” his father replied. “Now please wrap up your conversation so your mother an I can copulate.”

Draco’s face twisted in disgust.

Narcissa’s face paled in mortification. “In a bit, darling.”

“Wear the blue thing, or the leather thing. I’m not too picky.” Lucius left the room with a flourish and closed the door.

“Mum! Is he really going to disinherit me because I’m a werewolf?”

“Life isn’t fair, my dear boy. I’ll do my best not to produce another heir. Now get up and eat your breakfast. I don’t care if you’re a werewolf, you still have to go to school...And I have pilates and weight training.” She grit her teeth as ideas whirred in her head. Draco was certain her mother was training to overthrow the whole regime by herself.


Dobby appeared, looking tired; almost as though he was tired of being summoned. “What?” He didn’t even bother with the obligatory ‘Master Draco.’

“How do I be a werewolf?”

Dobby blinked at him silently for several long moments before speaking. “Dobby is a house elf.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Dobby is not knowing how to be anything other than a house elf.”

“Perhaps I should better explain myself. I find myself in a bit of a bind.”

“Dobby sees that, sir.”

“It appears that I am all of a sudden a tad on the wolfy side and I’m not quite certain how to go about my days now.” Draco was a Malfoy. Malfoys strutted, sneered, and smirked. Smirky smirk. Smirky da smirk smirk. Smirkety. But werewolf...that was something entirely new to him.

“That’s a conundrum.”

“You know the word ‘conundrum’ but you still speak in third person?” Draco intoned perplexed at the bizarre reality of how fucking weird elves were. “Find me a book, another werewolf, something, anyone—not Greyback, he’s rapey—that could help me figure out this shit.”

Dobby bowed so low, the tip of his nose brushed the floor. And then he disappeared.

Draco was left alone with an enormous amount of animal protein and a lot of questions. “Where’s Hermione Granger when you need her?” He chuckled to himself and sighed. “Just kidding, Draco. You know you hate that bitch.”

Oh, but you stare at her all the time ,” Draco said to his reflection, on the other side of his face—his not good side—in a deeper voice.

“Strange. I don’t recall ever talking to myself.”

I’m your inner wolf and I want things too. ” The voice was sort of sexy all gravelly and canine. Merlin, what kind of narcissist was Draco to find his inner voice seductive?

“Hmmm.” Draco scratched his jaw. “Well, you’re going to have to behave. I have a reputation to maintain and I can’t be seen talking to myself.”

Wolfy makes no promises ,” said the sexy voice again.

Draco rolled his eyes. “I will lobotomize myself if need be. And you’re wrong. I do not like Hermione Granger.”

Wolfy likes her.

Draco grimaced. “Shut up, Wolfy.”


The rattling of the carriages and screaming of the younger students pierced his highly-sensitive werewolf ears. It left him no choice but to cast a silencing charm so he could read the book Dobby found for him in peace. “Finding a mate…now this is interesting.” Of course it was interesting. He was a teenage boy who just liked sticking it in a hole. “Their scent will be irresistible and I’ll feel a desperate need to shag her.” He blinked at the book as he became momentarily distracted by a divine scent wafting through the carriages. “Is someone baking apple pie? I could destroy one or two of those right now.” He resumed reading. “And I won’t be able to impregnate anyone else but her. And she won’t be able to have anyone else’s babies but mine?” He thought about this and decided that it was good. “And I won’t want anyone else but her for the rest of my life.” That was a bit more odd. He had a hard time imagining that he could do the whole monogamy thing. He’d tried in the past, but he’d always failed.

You will be with your mate and no other.

“Wolfy, cut that shit out. I mean it.” The smell intensified and he took down the silencing charm.

“Does anyone smell hot chocolate?” he heard a disembodied voice call from outside the compartment door. “Damn, I really want hot chocolate. But not any hot chocolate. The really thick stuff from Spain the with the tiny churros. Where the fuck is that smell coming from? Fuck. I want chocolate and cinnamon.”

“Hermione,” a voice replied, “All I smell are teenagers who haven’t learned to use deodorant properly.”

Sounding annoyed, she responded, “I smell that too, Harry. Seriously, we need to introduce that to these purebloods, but are you telling me you can’t smell hot chocolate?”

“Where’s the hot chocolate? Where? Where??? ” Ron was hungry. As per usual.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Guess that’s a no.”

Ron shrugged and patted Hermione on the shoulder. “Maybe you’re just about to get your period, Hermione.”

She seethed. “ One day I will kill that boy,” she said in a deeper voice. “Shut up, Shakira.”

“Who? What? Who are you talking to, Hermione.”

“No one.” She looked a wee bit guilty.

Draco sniffed the air from inside his carriage. Nope. He didn’t smell hot chocolate, but he still smelled the apples. The succulently baked, not to sweet, still a little bit tart, apples. And it was strong.

“Hey dummy. Maybe chocolate girl is apples and you’re hot cocoa.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Granger is not apples. And ‘hot cocoa’ is Blaise’s nickname. Not mine.”

“Mione, we’re going to find the trolley,” Ron hollered.

“I’m right fucking here.” She seethed.

“Sorry. Sorry. I forgot your ears are all sensitive since the—”

A loud smack could be heard behind the closed door.

“Go. Ronald.”

The Weasel could be heard cowering. “ Merlin , Mione. I hope for all our sakes you get your bloody chocolate.”

Oh, I will, Ronald. You can bet on that,” said Hermione Deep-Voice.

“See you later, Hermione,” Potter replied, dragging his daft friend.

Hermione couldn’t shake the smell. She pressed her nose to the crack of the door closest to her. Her inhale was long, deep, and almost sensual. She smiled. “My cocoa is in here.”

Draco’s ears perked up. He stuck his own nose up against the crack in the door. “Apples? Is that you?”

Hermione backed up. “ Malfoy ????”


Wolfy chuckled. “ What did I tell you?

Shakira snickered, “Ah-wooo!”

Wolfy huffed and puffed. “ Me want.

Shakira demanded, “Tear the door down.”

“Granger,” Malfloy said. “If you come in here, you’re getting fucked. Or eaten. I really want apple pie.”

“Yes, well, I really want hot chocolate and churros, but apparently there is none. It’s just you . What kind of a deal is that?”

Draco cleared his throat. “Granger, might I offer a trade.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“I think maybe your pussy tastes and smells like apples and my dick smells and tastes like hot chocolate. We could each have the dessert of our desires if we—”

“I’m not fucking you, Malfoy.”

Yes, you are! ” Shakira said with a growl.

Hermione scoffed. “Whatever. I’m getting cheese fries.” And she fucked off down the carriage to hunt down the food trolley once again.

“Granger? Granger?” Draco sniffed the air. “Where my apples go?”

You did come on a bit strong?

He sneered. “Oh, like you’re so charming.”


They sat awkwardly in the Shrieking Shack now understanding the attraction they felt on the train.

“Sooooo…” Draco sat on the dilapidated bed. “You were turned over Christmas break.”

“Yup,” she responded with an emphasis on the ‘p.’ “Well, a bit before. An accident. Remus was under Wolfsbane, and I thought I was being nice checking up on him and fluffing his pillow and getting him an extra blanket, but apparently that was not a good idea.” And she showed her forearm. “You?”

“Punishment from the Dark Lord.”



The two had been bumping into one another in the Shrieking Shack every month around their transformations. Draco always suggested that they shag to get it out of their systems. Hermione always resisted the fact that they were obviously mated.

Though, it was on this full moon on Early May, Draco could no longer take the rejection. Wolfy took over.

“Shakira,” he growled.

Hermione was startled not sure how he knew the name of her inner wolf. Before she could speak, a gutteral noise left past her lips. “Is it time we finally take over?”

“Yes. I can’t deal with this fuckwit anymore.”

“Neither can I.”

Neither Draco nor Hermione had transitioned, but the call to each other was unavoidable. They collided into one other with such ferocity, pure animal instinct lead the charge.

Bite me, Wolfy. Make me yours.”

“Wolf, do not bite me!” Hermione said just before kissing Malfoy deeply. “Bite me and I’ll kill you.”

Draco nipped at her jaw. “ You are my mate. OUR mate. Shakira’s human must submit to her mate.

Draco tore her shirt in half. “Oh, brilliant way to charm her, Wolfy. She’ll totally fall into bed with us now.”

“Fuckwit,” Hermione said, pulling Draco in for another kiss. “I thought that’s what I was doing. Now shut up and I’ll suck you.”

Draco whimpered as his stubborn mate sank to her knees. He bit his lip to keep from speaking, lest she change her mind.

She looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. “If you knot in my throat, I’ll bite your dick off.” Then she swallowed his cock. Lovely. Tactful. Sexy.

Looking down at the wild mane of curls at his mate as she licked his cock and balls, letting him see the canine side of her. She groomed him like and animal then engulfed him like...he was losing his tact for poeticism. Under this exquisite pleasure his urge to claim her became more apparent. His dick rammed harder and harder into her mouth and he gripped her head tightly. In a moment of clarity, his human side came over and began to  repeat in his mind, Please don’t knot in her throat. Please don’t knot in her throat.

“Um...Gr-granger? Can I...oh, shit , that feels good.” He swallowed loudly. “Granger…”


“I...I need…”

We need to stick it in your pussy. That cool with you, Shakira?

Fuck yeah, Wolf-Boy. Give it to us. Oh, and don’t forget to mark us. Make it a good deep one, too.

Hermione rose to her feet and wiggled out of her skirt, grabbing Malfoy by the neck and forcing him to back her up against a wall. “I still don’t approve of the biting thing.”

Draco devoured her lips as she hiked a leg over his hip. He held it there so she wouldn’t slip. Can’t have that. “Just roll with it, Granger. You’re my mate. You’ve read the books. You know how this works.” He rammed into her.

She gasped. “Just fuck me, Malfoy. This doesn’t have to be a thing.”

“You’re too smart for that.” He bit his lip to keep from crying out as her welcoming quim gripped him like the sweetest, warmest hug he’d ever received.

“I’m the... oh gods. Brightest.” RAM “Witch of my—”

Please don’t say it!” RAM “Seriously, don’t. My boner will absolutely die if you finish that fucking sentence.”

She blinked at him. “Age.”

He roared and brought them both to the floor. Immediately, he started thrusting wildly into her. “You bitch.”

Do it, you pussy. Bite her NOW!

“I can’t help it, Apples. I need to bite you. I need to mate you!”

Shakira took over Hermione’s body and flipped her body to all fours. She backed that ass up welcoming that wolf cock. “I need to feel you feel you fill me up. Oh, Hot Chocolate! Give it to me. Quench my thirst. Yeah, you’re all warm and silky, aren’t you? Just a sweet sweet cock.”

Hermione and Draco may have as well not existed. The call was to their mates was too great with the moon rising outside the decrepit building. Shakira and Wolfy were in charge now, and what they craved was carnal and magical fulfillment.  Draco’s canines elongated as his mate bent her neck in offering. The point above her pulse might as well have had a bullseye on it for all Draco could tell. He was utterly mesmerized by it.

Uggggg ,” Hermione/Shakira cried out as Draco/Wolfy sank his teeth into her/their neck. After the male was satisfied with the marking of his mate, they began to howl and shift. This transition was different, it hadn’t changed them into their werewolf forms completely—not yet. Hermione felt her hips widen and felt more sturdy on all fours. Draco felt all his muscles ripple and his cock enlarge.

They had been still too long. His dick was throbbing and ached, needing to plow into his mate and complete the bonding.

DO IT!!!!!!!

This demand came from Hermione. He made a mental note that she could be mean when horny. Since they were effectively stuck together forever until the end of time, he was sure he’d reuse this information many times over.


“Calm down, woman!” He moved. And moved. And moved. Merlin, it felt good.

(okay... so I wandered for a second. I’m drinking a new wine. I wonder if it has a high alcohol level. Also. I’m listening to the Teen Wolf soundtrack and I think it might be too emo. I need something a bit more...wolfy.)

(I’m listening to Patti Smith and drinking prosecco. It’s wolfy enough. Now, for fuck’s sake, let’s let these crazy kids come already!)

They came.

( collective sigh of relief )

(No! No! No! He has to knot! And she needs to be all freaked out by it. And he pushes and pulls with her and they feel their wolfy bond take over. Because it’s not a werewolf trope until someone knots.)

What she just said. All that happened. Wolfy bond. Dick knotting. Gold thread of fate or some shit or however the trope goes. Their souls melded together and they saw Jesus or something. It was bananas. And howling. Lots of howling. Because mated wolves.

As his dick softened and slipped out of her, their transition to wolf form completed. Wolfy and Shakira were happy. Draco and Hermione were cool with it too. They stalked around each other. Because it’s weird to see werewolfs—with their big snappy jaws and fangs and elongated snouts looked totally ridiculous talking, they were able to communicate telepathically. For aesthetic purposes.

That was fun ,” Draco thought. “Let’s do it again after we howl and run and hunt for squirrels and stuff.”

Hermione shrugged. “ Yeah, whatever. That knotting thing was a cool trick.  Just don’t do it —”

“In your mouth. Yes, I know, Apples,” he grinned, as well as he could as he could as a wolf could. It’s not like they were pitbulls with their broad goofy grins. He was a wolf. It really wasn’t as cute.

She grinned, showing all her weird werewolf teeth. “ I think we’ll be just fine, Malfoy.


“Mr. Malfoy ! You do not sleep in my class!” Snape yelled and snapped his fingers at his slumbering godchild.

Draco jumped awake. Another dream. What a relief.

Anyway ,” Snape said snippily, “For today’s lab, we will attempt a potion I’m sure any teenage boy with a subscription to Play Wizard will be familiar with.”

Porn? Did someone say porn? Draco’s ears perked up immediately.

A throat cleared. “Malfoy, will you hand me those beetle eyes?”

He grumbled. “Of course you’re my bloody partner.”

They worked in silence. They were good partners. Both smart. Chemistry. Stuff. Yeah. It was a good potion.

“Very good Mister Malfoy,” Snape said, walking away and ignoring Hermione completely.

She scoffed hating the greasy bastard. Like, he was foul, surly, and utterly eww. Like there was no way on planet earth she could have a hot for teacher moment with him or any teacher at Hogwarts for that matter. “I can’t believe him. Malfoy, what are you doing????”

Chipmunk cheeks. He obviously had just been doing something he wasn’t supposed to, as evidenced by the empty vial of potion he just took.

“W-w-what have you done?”

“Try this. It tastes good.”

Hermione was on her period, so obviously, she couldn’t resist. Because she didn’t have enough vital blood flow to go to her vital brain-thinking places. And that’s why women should not be presidents. “Oh. I feel…”

She didn’t finish that sentence.

Chapter Text

Image by Hystaracal



By MotherofBulls and SaintDionysus

Day Eleven: Body Switch

Hermione rubbed her temples as she slowly regained consciousness. She noticed the curtains around her, she wasn’t in her dorm. Am I in hospital? Her fingers wove through her hair, seeking to release the pain penetrating her scalp. It wasn’t until she was full-on massaging herself that she realized her hair wasn’t short and tangled.

Instinctively, her hands flew to her boobs, or rather, where her boobs would have been had she not been transformed into Draco Malfoy.

“Granger!” a voice hollered from behind the curtain. It was her voice, but not. It sounded clippier. Snottier. “Granger, you bitch! Give me back my body.”

Me ? You’re the one who drank the bloody potion first and then handed it to me. You knew what it would do.”

“Bloody? You want to talk about bloody? There’s a string in my literally bloody vagina!!!” She could hear the pout in his voice. “This isn’t as much fun as I thought it would be, Granger.”

“Oh, boo hoo. You’re on your period. Imaging going through it every month! Every damn month!” She sneered. She kind of liked doing that. “Take a Midol, eat some chocolate, cuddle with a blanket, and you’ll be fine .”

“That is not how I imagined I’d be spending my time in a girl’s body, Granger.”

“Oh, isn’t it? Looking forward to finding a guy who would shag you?”

Before he could answer, they heard the doors fly open. Ron and Harry ran to Hermione, rather, Draco in Hermione’s body.

“Hermione,” Harry huffed taking Hermione-Draco’s hand...or would it be Draco Hermione? Or would one be Dramione and Herco? Help me out here! “We were so worried about you. I mean, in a familial way, of course.”

‘Hermione’ recoiled at Potter’s touch. Completely freaked out at how handsy the Gryffindor was for someone who considered himself ‘like a brother.’

“Mione, what did Malfoy do? I’ll kill him.” Weasley grunted.

The real Hermione rolled her eyes, thus making her look even more like Malfoy. From this vantage point, her two best friends really were annoying. “Sure, Ronald. Kill him. Because that’s a perfectly appropriate reaction to the nothing that he did.”

Ron turned red and pointed at her. “Shut up, Malfoy! I wasn’t talking to you.”

Hermione-Draco batted her eyelashes and tried no to laugh as he said, “Oh, Ronald . I’m ever so glad that you’re here. Malfoy was a perfectly competent partner all throughout Potions and I’ve recently realized what a sexy beast he truly is. I’m ever so worried that foul play is at hand.”

The real Hermione rolled her eyes again.

Potter startled, looking at his best friend being so flirtatious, and complimentary. He looked to ‘Malfoy’ then back to ‘Hermione’ then back again. “Oh, Fuck. You know, I can be pretty oblivious at times, but I know Hermione. She’s my best friend in the whole world—”

“Oi!” Ron retorted.

“—Hermione would never openly compliment anyone...other than Gilderoy Lockhart.” Harry continued.

“That was second year!” ‘Malfoy’ retorted.

Shut up , Malfoy!” Ron said.

Harry ignored them. “There’s definitely something wrong here.” He looked from Malfoy/Hermione to Hermione/Malfoy. “But what could it be?”


The Draco avatar rolled her eyes a third time. “You two really are useless.”

Thank you !” the Hermione-shaped Malfoy said.

“Just go. Seriously, get the fuck out of here,” the real Hermione said. “You’re of no use to us.”

“Merlin! Why are you such an arsehole, Malfoy?” Ron seethed and squeezed his fists.

Draco in the Hermione shell started squirming and said, “You need to fucking go.”

“Hermione, you okay? Are you on your period?” Harry asked. “I started tracking after I realized how pissy you got around the same time every month. It’s why Dobby would bring you chocolate. I really didn’t want you to murder me and Ron.”

The Fake Hermione batted her eyelashes again. “Oh, Harry ! You’re so thoughtful! Of course I’m on my period, how kind of you to notice! Please feel free to track my periods from now on because I’m absolutely thrilled you had the good sense to do so.”

“Thanks, Hermione!” Harry beamed.

The Real Hermione glared at him. “I’m going to get you for this.”

“Hmm. It really does sound menacing coming from that body, doesn’t it? No wonder first years soil themselves around me.”

“How are those period cramps treating you?”

“Dee-lightful, thank you for asking, Granger.” An evil smirk spread across her normally angelic face. “You know…” he lifted the blankets from his bed.

“Don’t fucking do it, Malfoy!”

“I am in your body. I mean, sure, you’re a disgusting, half-human little piece of vermin, but you’re still a girl.” He slid a hand over his chest and his eyelids fluttered. “ Damn , Granger, you’ve got some nice fucking tits!”

Never had such impossibly crude language come from her own mouth. “Unhand them.”

“No. Shan’t.” He pinched a nipple and gasped. “And so responsive .”

“FINE!” She pouted and unzipped her/his trousers, whipping out her dick. “Damn. You have one of those dicks that’s permanently long. Not like the ones that stretch and fill up. Interesting. Jesus. Even your dick is pale. It’s like reflective. I didn’t know they came this white outside of the Louvre.”

“I’m a show-er, Granger. I think that’s the term you’re looking for.” His/her hands slid down his/her stomach. “Well, if you’re just going to feel free to fondle my junk like that, Granger, I think I’m owed a little something in return.”

“Good luck staying clean. It’s day one of my period, and I have to use the Supers.”

“Ah-haaaa!” He had obviously just found her clit. “Is that what this feels like for you lot? Sweet Morgana , no wonder women are so loud in bed.”

“I can’t even believe I have to say this, but Malfoy, please stop playing with my clitorus.”

“No can do,” he panted. “Ahhh this is amazing .”

“If you have an orgasm in my body, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Did you two forget we were still here?” Ron asked.

(I kind of did. I just scrolled up and realize we didn’t make them exit. Wow. This is awkward.) (Leave them there. It’s about time they learned some hard truths about life.)

Draco grunted in frustration. “Goddamit, Weasley! You made me lose an orgasm!”

Hermione snorted. “Bet you never thought you’d say those words, Malfoy.”

He sneered. It wasn’t cute on her face. “Bet he’s heard that a lot coming from this body, hasn’t he?”

“Malfoy!” Hermione retaliated. “I don’t like Ron like that. We’re just friends.”

Harry nudged Ron and whispered, “Seriously, mate, can we like... go ? I really didn’t want to see Malfoy’s cock, or see Hermione get off. Even if they’re switched. Not that I want to see either if they weren’t switched...”

“Ron gets it, Harry,” Hermione said, her words sounding even more harsh in Draco’s voice.

“And how are my patients,” Madam Pomfrey said, entering the area with a clipboard. The grin on her face slipped as she witnessed Hermione sitting up with Draco’s cock in her hand and Malfoy lain down on the bed with his hand down his pants.

Snape followed behind, billowing like a bat...or just a fuck-tard in the dumbest drab robes (Dude, you hate that ho, don’t you?) (But seriously, I didn’t HATE him until I had kids of my own. I re-read Sorcerer’s Stone and he’s a total asshole. My kid’s about to turn 11. If I found out her teacher was that much of a prick, I would kick his ass so hard. Definitely get him fired...Oh god. I’m Lucius…) (Great hair, tho.) (Me and Lucky have that in common, except mine is black.)

Snape’s lip curled at the scene. “Nnnno.  Explanaation neeecessarry,” he said in his Snape-voice.

Madam Pomfrey shot them both an “Ummmm-hm” look with her hands on her hips. “Is this consensual?”

They each removed their hands from their borrowed genitalia. Hermione jumped to offer a conclusion. “This isn’t what it looks like, Madam Pomfrey!”

“Mister Malfoy, I’m a medical professional.” She tutted. “There is no pulling the wool over my eyes.” She snickered to herself, knowing full well who ‘he’ was. This wasn’t the first time a body switch happened under her watch. Of course, she took broken and missing bones, petrifications, and curses seriously. But this shit was fucking hilarious.

Snape gave her a knowing look. “Poppy, I think these two are well enough. Time for them to go on with their classes and quidditch practice.”

“NO!” They hollered in unison.

“This idiot will ruin my GPA.” Hermione called.

“And that clumsy bint will ruin Slytherin House’s chance of winning the cup!”

“Oh Miss Granger,” Madam Pomfrey chided. “Slytherin never had a chance. Sorry Severus.”

Snape scowled at the mediwitch. “That’s not what you said last night.” At Madam Pomfrey’s “go fuck yourself” look, he said, “Go on, you two. Please keep the masturbation to a minimum. That means you , Miss Granger. Stop playing with your clitoris while grown ups are talking.”

Draco’s hand froze in his pants. “I wasn’t—”

“Good day !” With a sashay worthy of the most malnourished runway model (I’d love a fucking gif of that), Snape retreated from the hospital, disappearing with a blur of his cape.

Hermione tucked in her dick back in her pants and zipped her trousers. “They know something and won’t tell us.”

“You think?” Draco said adjusting his skirt. “Don’t fuck up quidditch practice.”

“And you don’t fuck up my perfect marks! Why couldn’t I have switched bodies with Ernie McMillan or Anthony Goldstein. At least Anthony is circumcised, being Jewish and all.”

“Are you saying there is something wrong with the way nature made me? I thought you were above that, Granger.”

“Stop deflecting and stay the fuck out of my knickers!”

“I can’t promise that,” he said with the utmost sincerity. “I’ve always been a curious child. You can’t repress the willingness to learn and discover, Granger. Besides, this is probably the only chance I’ll ever have to experience multiple orgasms.”

Stay out! ” Draco’s voice reached a level of shrill Hermione didn’t know was possible.

Draco sighed. “I’m doing you a favor, really. Chances are, by the end of the day, I’ll be more proficient in getting you off than you ever were. You should be thanking me. One day, you may need my advice.”

“You’re a moron. I won’t remember any of that. Besides. I’m muggle-born. We have vibrators. Beautiful inventions.”

“You mean those things that you stick in your cunt or against your clit?” Inspiration struck and he ran away from his body as quickly as he could.

“Malfoy!” She hollered. “Where are you going?”

Leagues ahead of Granger, he repeated to himself, “Gryffindor tower...Where is Gryffindor tower? Must find stupid tower…”

Of course, the first person he ran into was Ron Weasley.

“Mione, are you back to yourself? You’re not still in Malfoy’s body, are you?”

Draco grimaced, but remembered his plan. “I’m back to me, but I need to get back to my dorm to get …” he then dropped his voice to a whisper. “Feminine products.”

“Oh.” The red-headed git looked taken aback. “Um yeah, let’s get you back to the Tower.”

Once in Granger’s room, his first thought wasn’t must find Muggle orgasm-giver thing , but rather... Holy FUCK. I’m in Granger’s room. I could do ANYTHING in here! Immediately, his body walked towards a drawer he could only assume was her underwear drawer.

A throat cleared. “Looking for this?”

Malfoy jumped at the sound of his own voice. Granger was there, looking menacing in the shadows, holding an oddly-shaped purple phallic device that reminded Draco of a wonky set of bunny ears.

“How did you get in here?”

“How did you ! It’s my room Malfoy! It’s my fucking vibrator. I don’t want you getting off on my sex toys.”

“It’s your pussy, Granger! And by the way,” he dropped a devious smirk, “it’s a jolly-well nice one.”

“Shut up, Malfoy.”

“I mean it from the bottom of my heart. I don’t joke about these kinds of things. I look forward to getting better acquainted with it until we’re cured of this ailment.”

“BUT I’M ON MY PERIOD. I don’t want you doing some weird pureblood sex magick on my body. Get away from my pussy.”

“You’re not bleeding from your clit, Granger. Don’t worry. I’m doing nothing untoward with your moon blood. I haven’t even gotten to that part of your pussy yet.”

“UGH!” She hollered in frustration and summoned her body lotion. “Fine. I’m going to come all over your robes. AND walk around the school with come stains all over your trousers.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Watch me.”

She unzipped the trousers once again, and squirted the lotion in her palm. Slowly, she ran it down the tip to its base, coaxing her borrowed dick to harden.

Draco’s eyes fluttered as he watched her. “Is it bad that I’m getting extremely wet watching me touch myself?”

“I knew you were a narcissist.”

“Maybe it’s just the knowledge that Hermione Granger is wrapping her hand around my dick.”

As Hermione started to pump on her brand new cock, she didn’t give a niffler’s arse why Malfoy was turned on, or even that he was in her room at all. Or how the wards let them both up the stairs. This was the easiest pleasure she had ever had. It wasn’t as intense as when she’d touch herself, but it was steady, and satisfying, and oh so good. And shit, it was so much easier stroking a cock at this angle than in front of it or on your knees.

Malfoy’s jaw dropped. “It’s good isn’t it? My cock. Do you like that, Granger?”

“Shut up, Malfoy. This isn’t about you.”

“Maybe not yet.” He stuck his hand once again down his knickers and proceeded to stroke his beloved clit.

Hermione tugged and pulled, seeing exactly how full and thick it could get. She was impressed. There was something pleasurable in and of itself to be able to see her pleasure in front of her eyes. She was looking at it. She could thrust it into the air. She could wrap her hands about it. It existed outside of her body. I’ll be goddamned if penis-envy is a real thing, but it is kind of cool , she thought.

Draco was jealous watching Granger. She was enjoying him, all of him. He just said, “fuck it,” and pulled the tampon out and tossed it into the closest bin. Curiosity got the best of him and he slid that purple silicone vibrator up Hermione’s pussy. “Ouch! That shit pinches!”

“You’ve,” Hermione said with eyes half-closed. “You’ve got to lube it. That thing is huge and even if you’re on your period, you really shouldn’t just shove it up there like that. Think of foreplay, idiot.”

“Where is the lube?”

“Under my pillow?” She couldn’t really remember. She was having too much fun jacking herself off.

Summoning his fragile masculinity, Draco lube up the purple silicone cock and carefully nudged it towards his entrance. He shoved it in a bit. Okay. Interesting. He shoved it in more. It was weird.

Hermione could obviously see the unsure expression on his face. “Use the smaller of the little knobs to push against your clit while the big part is inside you.”

He complied and “ Dayummmm , Granger! Why the fuck are you such an uptight little bitch if you’ve got this thing lying around?”

“” She was getting closer.

“Ohoooo. Fuck yeah. This is working for me.”

It wasn’t clear exactly when the two of them started watching the other as they pleasured themselves in bodies that did not belong to them.

Hermione, being the intellectual she was, knew that males also could be stimulated in the anal glands. She reached behind her and slipped a single finger into the tight puckered hole.

“Do not…” Draco said, panting. “Do not shove anything up my arse, Granger. I don’t like that.”

“Ahhh! Apparently you do, Malfoy.” She continued pumping her cock and fingering her asshole. Through fevered grunts she panted, “Guys are so lucky. I’m so fucking close.”

Draco squealed in response as he worked himself with the purple vibrator. “Holy SHITTTTT!!!!”

“God dammit! ” Hermione said as she came at the same time. Just what she needed; a shared orgasm with her childhood bully.

The wave of orgasm also triggered a deeper magic. The walls reverberated. Their bodies illuminated. Hermione and Draco could feel their souls rip from their current receptacles and float to their true selves.

Hermione found herself holding a blood-covered vibrator while Draco’s hand was covered in his semen which did in fact, drip all over his robes...oh, and his finger was still in his ass.

“Well,” he said. “This is embarrassing.”

“Mr. Malfoy!” Professor Vector was calling him. “Wake up !”

His eyes opened. He was immediately grateful to find that his fingers were firmly planted on the desk and not up his arse.

Weird fucking dream.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Their professor continued. “You are dangerously close to failing this class.” She scoured the room. “Miss Granger. Switch seats with Mister Nott. You’ll now be supervising Mister Malfoy.”

“Yes Professor Vector.” She gritted her teeth as she passed Nott.

“Better you than me,” he winked and took a seat next to some Ravenclaw girl.


Chapter Text



By MotherofBulls and SaintDionysus

Day Twelve: Tutoring

"Mother f**king, c**ting, sh*t hole, arse h*le! With all due respect, Professor, I do not need a tutor. It never works. Haven't you ever seen just one porno? It's like how 95% of them start."

Why are you censoring yourself? Everyone knows we're potty-mouthed trash heaps. {Hush ho. I'm a goddamned lady}

"Mister Malfoy." Professor Vector pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're failing. I'd rather not have your parents up my arse about your grades."

"I understand, Professor. Really I do. But what makes you think Granger will even go for th-"

"I'll do it, Professor."

{Marvelous eye roll} "Of goddamned course you will."

"Very well, Miss Granger." Vector handed her a giant stack of papers. "Here is a recap of everything Mister Malfoy has worked on over the past term. As you can seem, his marks are less than satisfactory. If he has any hope in passing his NEWTs, he has a lot to do."

Hermione flipped through the stack, scanning every line and chart. "Merlin. I take it back. He's hopeless."

"Fuck you very much, Granger. If you're just going to use this opportunity to lord your perfect swot brain over me, you can forget it."

"I don't do that. And you need this." She cast a replication charm over Vector's papers and slammed them into Draco's arms. "We'll start tomorrow. I expect you to go over every question you missed on these exams and correct them before we meet."

"It's settled." Professor Vector shooed them out of her class.

Draco prayed for death. He walked briskly out of Hermione's earshot. "I can't believe I have to bother with school while doing my duty to the Dark Lord."

"What?" Hermione asked.

"What?" Draco repeated.

Draco tapped his quill on the library desk. He hadn't slept properly in days. He'd even resorted to taking something Granger called "Am-bien?" He woke up doing backstrokes in the Black Lake, but he couldn't remember doing any sleeping. He felt wretched. All of the swotty nonsense stampeding out of Granger's mouth wasn't sticking, and she was starting to look like a bushy pillow.


"For fuck's sake, woman, why? Why me? Why don't you terrorize Weasley. He'd fucking drink your bathwater."

"Well, I told Professor Vector that I would help you in this class. While it may not matter to you how well you get on in this class, it matters to me. If I make a commitment, I see it through. I need you to succeed."

"Oh? And why is that? You think that if you help me get good grades I'll praise you and think you're the greatest most intelligent witch ever? Oh Granger, you're so wonderful. I'll stop working as a Baby Death Eater and join you."

"Baby Death Eater?"

"Oh-my-God-Granger-will-you-stop-talking-to-yourself! My point is, this is boring, you're the worst, and I'm wasting my youth in this library."

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, but I want to be Head Girl one day, so like it or not, I'm going to help you pass Arithmancy because this is precisely the sort of thing a Head Girl would do."

"Oh, Merlin. Even your ambitions are boring. I can't take this. I'm going for a fly."

"What is it I need to do to get you to concentrate on your studies? Get your favorite snack? Change locations? Calming music?"

He snickered and devised something he knew for certain she would never, ever do in a million years. "If you fly around the quidditch pitch wearing green lingerie and a slytherin robe, I'll do whatever you want. I'll pass this bloody class and give you all the credit for my success."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his request. "Is that all boys think about? How to get girls in their knickers."

"Not at all. Mostly we think about how to get them out of their knickers. And seeing as you're a marmish little prude, that's obviously not going to happen here. Waste of a good porno if I do say so myself, but that's life for you."

"Where are you going?"

Draco, who had begun to gather his things and stand to leave the library paused at her question. "We had a deal. You wouldn't do it."

"We absolutely did not have a deal, and I never said I wouldn't do it."

"Suit yourself. I'm still headed out to the pitch. I need some air."

Indignantly, Hermione sat there with her arms crossed watching him walk away. "That rat-faced little bastard. Who does he think he is?" As she grumbled, hating how he could be so… so… "FINE!"

The bellow that came from Granger was so startling, everyone whipped their heads around to see who it had come from.

Draco turned slowly. "Problem, Granger?"

"I'll do your stupid, goddamned bet. Although, I must say, that there is nothing quite so ridiculous as a teenaged boy being so stuck up his own arse about Slytherin colors that he wants to see them on the almost naked body of a girl. That cliche never goes both ways. If our roles were reversed, I can't imagine any scenario where I would find you wearing maroon boxers arousing. It would clash horribly with your pasty skin tone. But, all that aside, if it will get you to pay attention to your work, I will wear your stupid Slytherin underwear."

He released an incredulous bark of laughter. "Holy shit, really? I was joking, Granger. I mean I wouldn't say no if you wanted to strip down to your skivies, but I never thought you'd actually do it."

She came face-to-face with him. With gritted teeth and clenched jaw, two words passed her lips letting him know she was serious. "Pitch. Now."

"Granger, you almost done?" Draco snickered outside the locker room, certain she had chickened out.

"Shut up, Malfoy. This robe is too big. I am trying to get it to fit." Hermione was fine. It took her a second to fit the robe and transfigure her underwear green. She was just trying to find the courage to step outside.

"Just use magic because it is a thing that exists and you would know that if you weren't a bloody Muggle. Either show me the goodies, or I'm leaving and the Head Girl badge shan't ever be yours because it will be known that you failed at tutoring a Baby Death Eater."


"NOTHING, GRANGER! Strip or stuff it!"

"How dare you! Must you always be so demeaning?" She slammed the door open, exposing herself to the dumbstruck boy.

"You have tits…"

"Yes. Girls have breasts. And I see you have a penis." She pointed at his tented trousers.

"Well, great." He pouted. "I hope you're happy, Granger. Because now I'm going to have to wank to you and neither of us really want that. But there's no going back now because I've seen them, so we're just going to have to live with the fact that you're going to have a starring role in my next few orgasms."

"You're disgusting." Hermione suppressed the rising bile in her throat. "I'm going to ride your broom and get this over with."

He winced, moving his hand to the front of his trousers. "Stop saying suggestive things while you look like that. It's going to mean more Granger wanks and I already hate myself for the fact that I can't stop them from happening."

Hermione was tired of the banter and just snatched the broom out of his hand and mounted it. It took her a moment to get it to balance.

"Oi, ever heard of a little thing called consent, Granger?"

"Get over your damn self, Malfoy!" And she was off.

It took about three seconds of watching her ride his pilfered broom for Draco to realize that she actually had no idea how to ride it. "You are, and I am in no way exaggerating, Granger, the worst! You're worse than Potter. Worse than Weasley. You're stealing my future orgasms, you've stolen my broom, and now you're stealing my precious time because I have to save your arse!"

"I know. I suck at flying and hate heights. Now help me get off of this damn thing because have no idea how to land."

He thought at about it. "Accio Granger."

"AHHHHHHHHHH! MALFOY YOU COCK NUGGET!" As she fell to her certain death, the last thing she thought was that she was sorry to die a virgin.

"Got you."

She found herself draped across the arms of Draco Malfoy, delirious with her brush with death, and oddly horny.

Draco watched her boobs heaving, imagining her quivering quim; her fluttering womanhood; her dewy flower garden. "Fuck."


"You've got great boobs."

"You've got great arms."

"They'd look a lot better on your floor?"


"What?" Not his best, but boo was trying. "I mean. Yeah. You look fucking hot all scared."


"Granger, if you will just shut your beautiful mouth, I promise you I will give you something far better to do with it."

Cat is actually lying down right next to Amanda and turned on Barry White so we can write smut...

"Right. So, I guess now that we have set an arousing tone, we should do something to relieve this tension, yes?"

"It'd be advisable. For safety reasons."


"So sex? Here on the grass or in the locker room?"

"I have fantasies in both locales. Neither are exactly hygienic."

Hermione nodded. (I assume this is Hermione. My brain isn't sure who's talking anymore) "Cool, cool. you like...want to carry me? Or should we just kind of walk to the locker room?"

"Eh, you're not that heavy. I mean. I could start bouncing you on my cock now as we walk to the locker room. I'm good at multitasking."

"Shhh, shhh, shhh. Oh, my God, it's like you never had a mother. Just please stop talking before I change my mind."

He pushed her panties to the side and slid a finger in. She gasped in surprise because… I mean, we all know that's what she does. She's suuuuuuuper surprised he wants to finger her before putting his dick in her.

"OH. Oh, okay. So, we're just doing this. Okay. Well, that's...nice."

"You ready?"

"Not yet. Keep going."

"Okay." Two more pumps. "How about now."

She snorted. "Okay, never mind. Let me just…" She removed his fingers from inside her. "I'll just take care of myself before we're ready. It seems safest."

"What do you mean it seems safest? Fuck that." He set her down in the grass and placed his face between her legs. Without any hesitation, his tongue began flicking and lapping at her clit, alternating with deep thrust inside her cunt.

"Ohhh! Okay, I take back what I said about you never having a mother."

He removed his mouth from her core. "Exsqueeze me, Granger?"

"I just mean you were obviously raised well."

"That's sick. Absolutely depraved. But it's a testament to just how hard i am right now that I'm willing to overlook it." He returned his mouth to her and pushed home.

Her panting became more and more frantic. "Oh god! Oh god! I'm coming!"

Draco took this as his opportunity to plunge his fingers inside her pussy as he licked her clit, the green lace bunched to the side.

Hermione became undone in an explosive, boobilicious, bouncy, top rate orgasm.

Draco high fived himself. He honestly couldn't help it.

"Did you just…"

"You came. It was an emergency."

"You're ruining all my future orgasms right now."

He kissed her mouth and it tasted like wealth, privilege, and her own lady juices. She didn't mind the latter, but the former two were quite the turn off. That was until she found a very hard, yet agile teenage cock between her legs.

"Oh. Well…"

"Can I?"

"Sure, but you should know that I'm a virgin."

His boner died. "Okay, well this was fun." He stood to button his trousers.

"What? Why are you stopping."

"Look, Granger, I don't know you that well." He buttoned his shirt. "But from the way you chase Weasley and Potter around all the time, and from just your...general existence, I believe I can rightly assume that you're a Stage 5 Clinger."

"I don't even know what that is."

"Well, I do, and all the signs are there. Anxious. Kind of hot in like a horse girl way."

"WHAT?" She shrieked, in a way that was truly ear-piercing, that every drop of blood had receded from Draco's cock back to body, and bringing oxygen back to his brain.

"Bad hair, good skin, flat arse, terrible fashion sense. Bitchy. And you just seem like the type of girl who owns a horse."

"I do not have—"

"And worst of all...obsessive. You're obsessive about everything you care about. Your grades, your friendships, house elves, Hogwarts, a Goddamned Hi8story. I can only assume your virginity would be the same way."

She huffed, still naked on the grass. "Well, if you won't take my bloody virginity, then will you at least listen to me and let me teach you Arithmancy or whatever class it is you're failing, I forget. It's like I've been talking to a broken light bulb."

"A what? Look. I don't have time for this. Thanks for the blueballs. I have somewhere to be."

She scrambled to find her clothes. "Are you serious?"

"No, I'm Draco. Sirius is dead." (Gross, Cat. Gross. SHAME! SHAAAAAAAAMMMEEEEEEEE!)

And baaaaad pun. HAD TO DO IT. THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER. WHEN THE HELL ELSE CAN I ACTUALLY GET AWAY WITH THAT? It's not like I'll ever write a Marauder's fic. Okay, let me make up for that.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I think I'm a lesbian."

"Bully for you. Time for me to Baby Deatheat."



Her eyes narrowed further in suspicion (FINALLY. Wait. Nope. Can't type. Can't spell. I suck.) (It's cool. I have spell check and Grammarly installed. Fixed.) "We're going to the library. I did the thing. Now you have to study."

A deal was a deal. He hung his head in concession.

"You're fucking kidding me." She said with annoyed astonishment. "You got every single problem right. You're not a fucking idiot. What the fuck, Malfoy?"

"Tired. Lazy. Don't want to do it. Not planning on becoming a professional astronomer or arithmancer (okay but seriously, what is he supposed to be tutored in?) Take your pick. But seriously, I need to get out of here."

"None of those are reasons for you to deliberately sabotage your grades."

He snickered. "Such a typical horse girl. Not all of us are social pariahs who remind the professor to collect homework at the end of class, you know."

"You solved this equation in record time, Malfoy. You were faster than me. You're...actually really good at Arithmancy."

He yawned. "Yeah."


"Practical application."

"I don't know what that means."

He pouted in mockery at her confusion. "Must be terrible not knowing the answer to a problem." He booped her nose and rose from his seat. "Consider me tutored."

She sat in stunned silence as he got up from the table and threw up a deuce and sauntered out of the library. "Tell me how you're so good at Arithmancy and I'll S your D."

He stopped in his tracks. "For real?"

"For real. Unless you think I'll be a Stage 5 Clinger from that too." She crossed her arms smugly.

He rubbed his chin and thought about it. "No, no. Blowjobs don't work the same way." He held out his hand for her to shake it. "You've got yourself a deal."

"I hate myself. Please don't phrase it like that. I feel dirty."

"Oh, most definitely. Now, get your probably freckled arse out of that chair and follow me."

"Freckled? But I use sunscreen..."

"Just saying. I saw some stuff even though it was dark out. And some squats wouldn't kill you. You've a neglible arse."

She flipped him off and made a snide comment about his lopsided bollocks, freakishly tiny nipples, and early onset male pattern baldness, and the banter continued as they walked out of the library.

Draco panted as he zipped his trousers. "Okay. Did not expect you to be quite so good at that, but I must say, Granger, you certainly know your way around a penis."

Hermione rubbed her jaw, muscles sore from the exuberant exhibition of her skills. She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, stretching out the tension. "I mean, I was able to be a bit more agile since you didn't take up my whole mouth. I actually had some room to play. Not saying your dick is small, just not as girthy, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Granger, I get it. I'm not that big. Whatever. The tropes are wrong."

She stood up. "Now pay up. Why are you so good at Arithmancy."

"I'll have to show you. But I warn you. You will hate me. You will definitely want to end whatever this is between us."

"I already do."

"Oh, good. So, we're in agreement. Shall we?" He crooked his arm, she took it tentatively, and they headed to the Room of Requirement.

Her hand ran along the dusty, ornate cabinet, curious of its purpose. "What is this?"

"This is it." He shrugged.

Hermione squinted at the armoire. "It's a moldy old cabinet. I don't understand. What does this have to do with Arithmancy?"


"Stupid answer. Be more specific."

So he told her. Everything. Every gritty detail of what he was planning on doing. The Weasley-poisoning, the Katie Bell necklace thing, the Imperiousing Rosmerta, the Dumbledeath Plan, Occlumency lessons with Uncle Sev, that time he got a bee sting in his eye and cried for days, the one time he had a weird wet dream about a talking towel. Not all of it was exactly vital information, but he just couldn't stop talking.

Why? He didn't know. She would certainly go tell Dumbledore or Potter or someone equally incompetent. But he was in an awfully good mood after that blow job.

For real. It was a stand up blow job.

"You are totally a Baby Death Eater. I knew it! I should stupify you on the spot." She drew her wand. "I should tell Dumbledore...or Harry. But…"

He raised an eyebrow, "But?"

"This room makes me really horny for some reason. It's got this weird sexual energy. Hmm...I wonder how many students at this school popped their cherries in this room. You think you can channel sex magick here?"

"Dude, I don't know, but why the fuck would the founders put a perfectly tailored, definitely Sex Room in the middle of the bloody castle around a bunch of magical teenagers with no parental supervision? It never made sense to me."

"I read an unabridged version of Hogwarts: A History, that mentioned that Godric Gryffndor and Rowena Ravenclaw had an affair, and that Helena Ravenclaw was their love child. I bet they had their liaisons in this room."

"OH MY GOD, COULD YOU BE ANYMORE OF A HORSE GIRL, RIGHT NOW? I don't know why I'm mildly attracted to you. Must be a result of inbreeding or something. I don't know. Point is, you're a total boner killer with your overkill of unasked-for information, and I don't even care, because I still kind of feel like we should shag now."

"But...I thought...Stage 5 Clinger, remember?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah but that was before that epic BJ. You see, I was right when I said blowjobs don't work the same way. The result of a blowjob such as the one I recently received from you actually makes the bloke the clinger, if you can believe it. My bad."


"It's basic sex math. You would know if you were as good at I am at Arithmancy."

"OH MY GOD, STOP TALKING, I DON'T EVEN CARE. If you don't take your clothes off right now, I swear to God, not only will you not get to shag me, but I will straight up transfigure you into a summer squash and watch you rot."

"On it."

Clothing flew in all directions, kicking dust up everywhere.

"God, is there somewhere clean to fuck?" Draco coughed. Magically, a four poster with crisp clean linens presented itself. "Yes. Clean, Egyptian cotton sheets. Not silk or satin, because we're not trash bags with a false idea of what luxury is."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "This is so much nonsense. I should have just gone to that girl's school in Switzerland and become a dentist. By the way, if you keep up that twatty rich boy shit, I will probably back out of this, because something about you just makes me feel...lezzy. Like, I fully expect to exclusively fuck women after this. But I just have to know. Just once. God kill me, but I do."

"Cool." He jumped into the bed and landed in a puddle of pillows.

They woke.

Hermione wasn't his tutor. She wasn't a lesbian. She wasn't a virgin.

They weren't Head Students or have some bizarre student-tutor relationshiop. Draco wasn't a Death Eater. He wasn't a veela or a werewolf. Hermione wasn't a Slytherin half-blood, nor was Sirius Black her father. She also could definitely tell who someone was behind a mask.

They were just a married couple in their bed.

"Babe," he said. "I had some dreams."

"Yeah. Me too."

They both stared at the ceiling for a while.

Draco broke the silence. "Are we a weird couple?"

"For sure."

"Okay." He was silence another beat. "There are so many ways we could have gotten together. Weird, insane, unrealistic, ridiculous ways."

"Right?" She chuckled. "Or we could have just met at the grocery store. Or a bar. Or the laundromat, or any of those stupid rom-com tropes. You know, a meet-cute."

"Do you ever feel like the whole world is just a collection of tropes? Like a great big vat of…"

"Trope Soup," they both said at the same time.

They looked at each other and were silent a beat.

Hermione snorted. Draco grinned. And they started laughing into their pillows.

"Some days I hate you," Hermione said.

"Me too."

"You want to get a few more winks in?"

"Um...nah, I'm...good. I'm good on sleeping for the next several hours, I think."

"Yeah, same!"


That morning, they read the newspaper and drank coffee. Draco made a silent grimace when he took his first sip, regretting that he let Hermione make it because she never ground the beans fine enough and didn't use enough of them so her coffee was always too weak. Good toast, though. He'd have to make a note to pick up that strawberry/mint jam again at the farmer's market near his office.

Hermione went to yoga after, and Draco feigned not being able to control himself when he saw her in her yoga pants. (Dude. Men love yoga pants.) She giggled on her way out the door. While she was gone, he checked his work email and turned on the telly to catch Liverpool vs. Wigan. It was a shit game.

She came back a little more relaxed. They debated where to go for lunch. In the end, she won. Thai food. He always let her win because he secretly liked Thai food, especially the sticky rice with mango dessert, but he'd rather eat a plate of his own sick than admit it.

They'd have a nooner after lunch. Missionary, but lovely. Then, they'd make another batch of coffee, and sit on opposite sides of the couch with her reading and him alternate between reading and playing Candy Crush and Wordscapes on the newest iPhone. She'd read some experimental, literary nonsense that would probably be considered a classic a hundred years from now, and he'd read what looked like a biography, but was, in fact, a YA fantasy novel with a more high-brow jacket concealing the cover. She'd know. She'd smirk into her own book, but let him have his "secret."

They'd cook dinner together. A nice, simple lamb braise with a salad and some potatoes. The lamb would be a little overcooked, but neither of them would care. The salad would be a masterpiece, complete with fresh tomatoes and artisan cheese picked from the farmer's market.

They'd watch Game of Thrones on the couch with a bottle of wine—the special Game of Thrones wine, of course. They weren't so cool as to never show their fandom. She would yawn and hog the covers. He'd let her. They'd debate over whether Cersei was redeemable and whether Jon Snow and Daenerys should end up together. Her position was "no" and "never, because incest." He was in the "sure, if she'd just stop fucking her brother," and "well, does it count if they don't know?" camps.

They'd each perform their nighttime ablutions with little fuss. It had been a good day. Nothing spectacular or particularly interesting. Nothing to write about.

But good.

And then they'd go to sleep. Hopefully, they'd have no weird dreams about magic teenagers and snarky sex, but if they did, that would be okay too. The dreams didn't do anything for them, anyway. Although sometimes they repeated the same positions in bed a little too often, Hermione didn't fantasize about bad boys and Draco didn't fantasize about the heroines in the YA novels he read. What they were to each other was something fantasy couldn't touch. It was reality. Their imperfectly perfect reality.

And they were content. Truly content.

Hermione turned on the white noise machine she sometimes needed to sleep. Draco tried to spoon her, but abandoned it 30 seconds later because she was too hot.

Their ankles found each other under the covers.

Tomorrow would be another day.

The End