Chapter Text
Draco Malfoy had very little to look forward to these days. Slytherin Quidditch. The jam tarts the Hogwarts house-elves made. The year he hoped to spend in the States, where he could disappear and not receive a knowing look upon mention of his surname. And not least of all, Hermione Granger's incredible temper.
There was something artful, he thought, about the way he could incite it. The meticulous planning he had to undertake in order to truly arouse her temper deserved to be celebrated. Without a war looming or a deranged Dark Lord living with his mother, Draco was able to really focus on the important things this year. Like stealing Granger's quill in the library when she looked away. Or finding just the right charm to unscrew the lid on the potions ingredients that she kept precariously close to her elbow. Or sticking the pages of her textbooks together.
But it wasn't until several months ago that he realized that what really drove her absolutely up the wall… was him.
It was far too simple. Far too easy to turn her cheeks pink or cause her jaw to clench.
He didn't like to question how often those pink cheeks or burning brown eyes popped up in his dreams and pleasure-soaked fantasies. All he knew was he was having the time of his life this year. Finally — something to look forward to.
"Tell me what to do?"
It seemed strange now — as she trembled in his arms, her voice rough with her orgasm, asking him to teach her how to please him — strange that he ever thought stealing quills was something to look forward to.
"Yeah, okay," he said roughly. "If you want."
His fingers jumped to the buttons on his trousers, brushing against his stiffness by accident. He watched her face — watched her lick her lips unconsciously. And the fantasy of her mouth on him burst forward.
But no. Maybe that was… something new to look forward to.
As he reached into his trousers and pulled himself out, he saw her fingers curl on her thighs. And a quick look up to her face told him what he already knew — that he was quite impressive, thank you very much.
He started stroking himself, staring intently at her expression. "Is this alright?" he asked.
She took a deep breath and nodded. "Should I…?"
He reached for her hand and brought it to him. Her fingers were soft and feather-light on his skin. It was mesmerizing and maddening.
"A bit tighter," he rasped out. She jerked her head up to him, having been caught in a bit of a daze watching her hand wrapped around his length. But when her fingers firmed on his cock, and she started her slow rhythm again, he groaned.
Grabbing for her jaw again, he brought their mouths together, encouraging her with his tongue and lips. She allowed him to kiss her deeply, continuing to stroke him like a good student. His hand slithered up her ribs again, reaching for the stiff peak of her breast under her blouse and jumper. When his fingertips traced her nipple, she gasped air against his lips and her hand tightened on him. He moaned.
"Sorry," she whispered. "Was that—"
"Again. Just like that."
She gripped him tighter, and Draco knew he'd pop soon. His other hand snuck under her blouse, and soon both of his palms were filled with the sweet soft skin of her breasts. He felt his hips start to move with her hand, forcing her to stroke him faster. His tongue swept through her mouth, and every time she brushed a tentative response with her own, he sighed deep in his throat.
"I'm gonna come," he breathed against her mouth.
"Alright," she said weakly. "Is it… Do I have to do anything?"
His hand dropped to her inner thigh. "Can I come here? I'll clean it up."
She stuttered out a breath and said, "Okay."
He brushed her away from his cock, gripped himself, and pushed up her skirt with his other hand. In three quick strokes, he saw violet bursting in his eyes. He groaned lowly, and watched his come land on Hermione Granger's thighs, drops of it hitting her white cotton knickers. "Fuck," he moaned, as his skin tightened, and the visual gave him one last burst of pleasure.
Dropping his head on her shoulder, he caught his breath, staring down at the mess on her. Before he could do something stupid, he summoned his wand and cleaned her up.
He was a second away from kissing her speechless when she said, "You're not going to tell anyone about this, are you?"
His eyes snapped up to her. The heat that had been suffocating him for the last twenty minutes drained from his skin. He felt flinty and cold when he said, "No, Granger. You want me to?"
She blinked at him, with wide, scared eyes. "I just mean, are you going to use this to — to embarrass me or…"
Of course. Because what an embarrassment it would be for her to stoop so low. He stepped back from her and tucked himself back into his trousers.
"No. I wouldn't want to tarnish the Golden Girl," he spat. "Would hate for Potty and Weasel to show up and make a fuss."
He spun away from her furrowed brows and went about salvaging what he could of the remaining potions. He listened to her sorting her clothing and sliding off the table.
"We'll do the Black Fire and the remaining Sleeping Draughts tomorrow evening," he said flatly. "Same plan. After dinner, we'll start seven cauldrons with the draughts, and then use the remaining cauldron for the Black Fire."
He cleaned up his side of the work station, listened to her do the same, and after checking out the ingredients as Slughorn had asked, he swept from the room, leaving her to finish.
~*~
He did a miraculous job of avoiding Hermione Granger the next day. If it wasn't such a boring and dissatisfying day because of it, he would have been quite pleased with himself.
Slughorn had stopped him at breakfast, rather impressed with the amount of vials they had produced the night before. Draco was quite certain they would finish by this evening. He would make sure of it.
She was there before him when he entered the dungeon classroom after dinner. Glancing furtively in his direction as he dropped his satchel, she wrung her hands together and chewed on her bottom lip.
"I think we should double check each other's work tonight, so no disasters happen like last night."
His eyes snapped up to her at the word "disaster," and he watched her eyes blow wide. "I mean the Black Fire disaster," she hurried to clarify.
"No," he said sharply. "I trust you. We'll separate the ingredients better, but I'm positive your Black Fire will be perfect this time. Unless you'd rather do the Sleeping Draughts."
She shook her head with a tentative smile. "I'll do the Black Fire. I think that's a great plan."
Frowning, he started the cauldrons and went to sort the ingredients. She was as jumpy as a rabbit the entire evening. By the time they'd gotten the first round of Sleeping Draughts brewed, she had glanced in his direction a total of sixty-seven times. He'd counted.
They were close to done at almost two. They could have done half the Black Fire and then saved the rest for tomorrow, but she seemed to be as eager to get out of there as he was. It wasn't until she was starting the final brew of the potion that she cleared her throat and spoke for the first time.
"What did you mean… when you said that you dreamt of what I—what I sounded like?"
Draco rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I assumed it was rather straightforward, but you need me to spell it out for you, Granger?"
She cleared her throat again. "I just wondered if it was something you said in the moment… or if it had more weight to it."
He pressed his lips together. "What answer will get us out of here sooner?"
When she didn't respond, he glanced over at her. She stared into the perfectly colored Black Fire potion, her cheeks bright pink and her lip pulled between her teeth.
Perhaps it was because they were almost done, or because he had very little to lose. Or perhaps it was because it was after two in the morning, and famously, everything would go wrong. But Draco let out a beleaguered groan and said, "I've thought about what you sound like when you come. What you look like. What your mouth does. How tight your cunt gets and how wet you are."
He watched her throat move and her lungs catch. It compelled him to continue.
"I've dreamt about what your tits feel like. What they taste like. How they look when you're bouncing up and down. Your jumpers are impossibly loose, Granger. It isn't fair to us blokes." A laugh pushed out of him, and he ran a hand through his hair. "And your thighs. I've definitely wondered about those. I want to suck bruises into your thighs and see them the next day."
Her neck was red and splotchy with the flush in her skin. She kept her eyes on the cauldron, and part of him wondered if he was even speaking. Maybe it was all a fever dream.
"And don't get me started on your knickers, Granger. I want to take them off with my teeth. I want to leave them on while we fuck, those knickers and matching bra. Just pull them to the side and sink into you. I want to put my mouth on your knickers and kiss you there until you beg me to remove them and lick you all over. I want to taste you, and make you come with just my tongue." He took a deep breath, his cock twitching. "That's what I've been dreaming of, yeah."
It was quiet except for the sound of the bubbling cauldrons. She took a quivering breath.
"I don't… I don't understand." She placed her hand on her neck, rubbing the places he'd kissed the night before. "How long have you… I mean, surely this must be a recent… problem for you." She glanced at him for the first time since his confession. Her lip was beautifully red from her teeth.
He shrugged. "Maybe. Definitely more time for these kinds of thoughts this school year than others." The heavy way her chest rose and fell emboldened him. "You can't think of anytime you've had any similar thoughts, Granger?"
He didn't know she could turn redder. "I—I don't… I mean, I've only recently started thinking of your mouth as something I wanted to kiss instead of smack. Does that count?"
With a grin, he nodded. There was a classroom between them, and it took everything in his control to keep himself from crossing it.
She turned to face him fully. "So, you truly won't go bragging about us?"
He scowled at her. "Worried about Potter and Weasley finding out?"
"N-no," she said, confusion furrowing her brows. "I would worry about sleeping with someone who wanted to humiliate me."
Ah. Right. He swallowed and stared back at her. "That wouldn't happen."
Her eyes were bright, almost eager when she said, "Okay."
And then her wand buzzed. It was time for the final stirring of the Black Fire potion. She jumped and turned to it, reaching for her wand.
Draco strode across the room, pointed his wand at the cauldron, and banished its contents with a flick. Granger gasped. "What—what did you do?"
He took her by the waist, lifted her onto the table, and said, "I suppose we'll have to do detention again tomorrow night as well." He kissed her, feeling her surprise melt into pleasure.
Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and she pressed her breasts against him with a moan. Draco tilted her head and enjoyed the way her mouth opened under his instinctually. He placed a light hand on her knees, and she opened them.
He pulled back from her and said, "Can I take off your jumper?"
She reached for the hem of it quickly, dragging her blouse up with it. The sight of her pale bra against her skin made his heart stutter in his chest. He glanced up at her before leaning forward to press his lips low against her sternum. The swell of her breasts brushed against his cheeks, and he kissed the tops of each of them before coming back to her lips.
His arms wrapped around her waist, and his hands slid over the warm skin of her back. She let out the most perfect mewl against his mouth and his hands wandered, roving her spine, rounding her ribs and passing over her breasts, dropping over her shoulders and running down her arms. Her knees closed around his hips, drawing him in. Pressing against her low back, he encouraged her to scoot forward to him. She reached for his trousers, shocking him with how sure her fingers were on his buttons.
Pausing, he said, "We don't have to tonight. We can do anything else. Everything else."
"No, I want to," she whined, and popped the last button. "Please."
Heat flowed over him. He panted against her face. "Alright, but first…"
He reached behind her, clearing the table, and pushed her to lay back. Once she'd settled comfortably, he pushed up her skirt, and bent to press a kiss on her upper thigh.
"Oh!" She brought her hands to her mouth. He kissed closer to her knickers.
"Let me know if you want me to stop." He watched her mind work, knowing she was remembering his words from earlier.
Draco leaned down and placed a firm kiss directly to her cotton knickers. Her knees rose up beside his ears, and he placed his hands to the inside of her thighs to press them open. He could hear her whimpering and gasping as he kissed along the fabric, letting his tongue press to where moisture was collecting.
"Can I take these off?" he whispered.
Her voice was thin when she said, "Yes."
He helped her lift her backside, and once he was rolling the cotton down her thighs, his gaze didn't leave the soft, pink, wet core of her. He reached one hand forward, and with his palm holding her upper thigh open, he let his thumb pass through her folds. She was moaning, wriggling, but he just teased her with it while he watched. Her clit was aching, and he brought his thumb to it, dragging slow circles over it.
Her hands snapped down to her hips, reaching for something. "Malfoy, please."
He leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to her clit, and let her fingers find his hair. She tugged so tightly, he almost had to stop her, but as soon as his tongue slithered along her opening, the sounds she made changed from soft whimpers to long moans. Her fingers scratched and scrabbled for purchase.
Her taste was incredible. Something he could dine on forever. He let his tongue swipe through her over and over, barely touching her clit. Her hips started moving, and he held them down. His tongue dipped low and pressed inside of her, and she let out a deep sigh, curling her knee up to his ear.
Draco pressed his lips to her clit, kissing and licking. She gasped on high notes and took shaking quick breaths until finally his lips closed and he sucked until she screamed. Her hips jerked against his face, and her hands tore at his hair. He sucked at her clit until she finally started to push him off of her. He stood up, and stared down at his handiwork.
Hermione Granger was laid across the desk in the potions classroom, tits heaving in her bra, a flush to her face, her eyes glazed. She panted and stared up at him with wonder in her eyes.
He reached for her and she let him pull her up. His cock was straining, but he still found it in himself to ask, "Are you sure you want to still?"
She responded by pulling his mouth to hers and kissing him while she reached for the bulge in his underwear. He groaned when her hand closed over it, and softly moved her away. He took her arms and encouraged them to wind around his neck, and then pulled himself out. Stroking only a few times, he moved close, and pressed the head of his cock to her entrance.
He felt her shiver in his arms, her breath rattling in surprise. He held her hip in one hand and her jaw in the other as he pressed forward, entering the most sublime heat he'd ever felt in his entire life.
Her knees pulled up to his waist, and he felt her tensing. He reached down under her skirt and found her clit, rubbing softly until she relaxed. He slid deeper, and she moaned.
Pulling back to look into her eyes, he saw her lips parted, her eyes wide, and her cheeks flushed.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured. Her lashes fluttered closed, and he slid out to push back in.
She took gasping breaths as he worked her open, sliding deeper with every thrust. Her lips pulled in a tight "oh" when he thumbed at her clit again, and her eyes snapped open to him.
"Is it supposed to feel like that?" she whispered.
He stopped. "Like… bad?"
She shook her head and dragged him forward. Her hands started rucking up his shirt and jumper, reaching up to feel the skin of his stomach. He groaned at the feel of it, and started to thrust back into her again.
"Can I take your bra off?" he asked softly. She stared intently into his eyes and reached around to do it for him.
The pale cups fell away, and her beautiful skin smoothed into perfect breasts, just enough to fill each palm, as he now knew. He kept his one hand rubbing her clit, and lifted his other to run over her chest. His hips started to push faster, and he leaned down to kiss her breasts, his lips dragging over her nipples and licking the tips.
When his mouth closed and sucked, she grabbed his head and held him there. Her cunt started to flutter around him, and her thighs quivered as he pumped into her. He moaned with her nipple in his mouth, and she keened a high pitched noise, getting tighter, wetter.
"Oh! Oh, god!"
He pulled up to look at her face. Her eyes were rolling back, and her hands were fisted in his jumper. He pushed his thumb against her clit over and over, his hips thrusting faster and faster.
She gasped in air, and used it to cry out. He felt her clamp down around his cock, barely allowing him to move inside of her. He rutted against her as she rode out the most intense orgasm he'd ever witnessed. He was about to let go when her eyes fluttered open, wet and shining. She smiled at him.
He came inside of her, grunting and cursing. His hips jerked and his breath quivered. She felt like silk around him, and he wanted to live there.
When he could finally open his eyes, he found her staring at him, taking in his every expression. She panted, her breasts heaving. Her skin was flushed and damp. Hermione Granger, properly fucked.
He leaned forward and kissed her. She returned it softly, her hand coming up to his neck. When it was time to clean up and get dressed, he performed a Contraception Charm and watched her eyes eager to learn it.
He was sorry to see her tits hidden again behind her bra, but the image of them was burned on his brain now. She looked up to him shyly as he handed over her knickers.
"So I suppose we'll have the Black Fire to do tomorrow, and then we'll be done," he said tentatively. He took a breath, ready to ask if perhaps they wouldn't be done as well.
She flicked her wand and sent a jinx headed toward the vials of Sleeping Draught they'd filled that evening. They burst, shattering their work everywhere.
Sending him a mischievous grin, she said, "I think maybe we haven't learned our lesson quite yet. We still have to learn to 'work together,' as Slughorn said."
He bit his cheek to keep from smiling. "Couldn't agree more, Granger."