Special delivery for themadmermaid Title: A Date With The Night Author: wieimmer Recipient: themadmermaid Rating: NC-17 Pairing(s): Draco/Hermione Word Count: 8,360-ish Warnings (if any): Um... Language, penis, clit, and boob.
Authors notes: WOO! I had fun writing this. Originally going to be a trio fic, but everything got twisted about, and here we are now. So we've got a sex-crazed Hermione seducing the boys and some dirty talk, as you requested. I hope you enjoy, and this fits to your liking. Hermione's attitude was inspired completely by the song "Date With The Night" by the Yeah-Yeah-Yeahs. Bonus points if you spot the line from one of the greatest movies ever within the fic.
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On the rooftop of the building to his flat, Draco found himself that chilly February night, lighting up a fag. Draco chuckled as he puffed away, cringing that he actually thought of calling a cigarette a fag. It’s a smoke, he thought to himself.
He stood in the centre of the roof, not going near any edges, and leaned against the sheltered doorway that led to the stairwell. Glass bottles were strewn about on tables and chairs, while pink, red and white fairy lights twinkled, hanging from wires and polls placed all around the edges of the rooftop. His neighbour below him thought it would be a nice touch for the holiday, and insisted on putting them up for the party they were hosting together. A gust of wind blew past, knocking over some the bottles and Draco laughed again, convincing himself that the narrow shaft of paper and dried leaves burning between his fingers was keeping him warm against the cold.
“Should go back soon,” he said, rubbing his free hand up and down his arm. Another gust of wind blew, and the bottles rolled across the ground. With a jab and flick of his wand, they picked themselves up, and flew into a bin in next to one of the tables.
Draco jumped as several people burst through the door and stumbled drunkenly over each other, trying to reach a set of chairs. They laughed and cackled as they fell to the floor, and before they had a chance to see him, Draco slipped through the door as it closed, and he headed back downstairs.
“Oh it’s roof!” he heard one of the people shout as the door shut and Draco smiled, skipping down the stairs, two at a time.
Music became louder and louder as he made his way to his flat, one floor down and through a long hallway. A few couples were chatting and snogging against the walls and he looked on the ground at several bottles of beer that were scattered about. Draco bent picked them up casually to keep his eyes on other business. The loud thumping emanating from his flat became a distinct rock melody once the front door opened and Blaise Zabini walked out with his arms and lips all over a voluptuous girl that Draco recognised immediately as his neighbour and co-hostess, Iseult.
“Oh, Draco,” she giggled, blushing at once. “You can handle the party, from here on out, right?”
“I can handle anything, Iseult.”
“That’s good. But just in case, I told people they can’t smoke inside and they all know to be careful; it’s not like we’re children anymore. There’s lots of liquor left, I made a run to the corner shop earlier to have extra.”
“You two are taking off already?” Draco asked and let the pair pass. “It’s early.”
“Not going that far, mate,” Blaise winked and shook Draco’s hand as Iseult pulled him away. “Thank you, thank you, brilliant party!” he mouthed graciously and left. “Thank you!”
Draco stood in the doorway of his flat, taking in the sight before him. Red light bathed the gaping living room and every single witch and wizard milling about it. Many danced to the music playing in the centre of it, and hoisted a man over their heads and cheered, while other people stood in small groups, talking and laughing as they drank whatever alcohol they could get their hands on. Straight back, immense windows ran the length of the wall, and the city lights shone through as best they could against the red lights. On the balcony, a group of men and women were smoking and obviously pissed seven ways from Sunday because all of them were half naked, and someone was taking photographs. People were rubbing noses on couches, as newly formed couples looked for ways to get into one of the bedrooms, becoming immediately disappointed when a magical barrier and sign reading, ‘Absolutely No Fucking, Unless You Live Here, Whatsoever!’ blocked the way.
Most of the people Draco recognised as every unattached person he knew, while the others he had never before met in his life. Iseult asked him a few days earlier if he wanted to throw and Anti-Valentine’s Day Party in protest of everyone holding special events for couples that night. She had made the mistake of asking him while Blaise (who was perpetually hard for her) was in the room, and before Draco could ask what in buggery fuck an Anti-Valentine’s Day Party was and say no to it, they both were sending owls to everyone they knew, telling them about the singles-only party Draco was hosting at his place.
Draco turned his body and cut his way through the packed out kitchen, and found Ginny Weasley, who was trying her best to mix drinks at the makeshift bar on the kitchen countertop. She was shoving ice into cups and reading the labels of various different mixers and glass bottles.
“Draco, I think you’re out of whiskey,” she shouted to him. “Is anyone going to the store to get more?”
“Again? I doubt it,” Draco said as he brushed past her and tossed the empty bottles he collected in a bag under the sink. “Are you sure there’s none left? Iseult said she made sure we had enough of everything to last through the night. There better be some beer left.”
“There’s only lots and lots of vodka and lots and lots of gin left, and I detest both. This is the last beer, too,” Ginny handed a green bottle to Draco. It felt warm, so he placed it in the sink, which was packed with melting ice, and covered it up to keep it hidden. He opened one of the cupboards above his head and rummaged for a dusty, half empty bottle of whiskey and gave it to her.
“That’s the good stuff too, Weasley. Use it wisely.”
“Draco, I’d kiss you right about now if it weren’t for Harry and his jealousy (he’d kill us both, you know),” she added from the side of her mouth. “You should have seen the look on his face when he heard my plans for tonight. If I know him at all, the pitiful sap is probably already waiting for me to get back so we can patch things up finally. But bollocks to that, I still plan on playing it single tonight.”
“Tremendous,” Draco nodded at her enthusiastically and changed the subject to more important matters. “Who else did you bring with you?”
“Just us girls, I would have brought more, but no one else wanted to come; a surprising amount of women hate you,” Draco shrugged his shoulders, unabashed, “and all my team mates are men. You wouldn’t want them cluttering up the place, right?” He scrunched his face at her, shaking his head ‘no’. Ginny squinted at the whiskey bottle, trying to read it under the terrible red lighting. “Iseult sure had you go all out with the red, didn’t she?”
“You can’t tell in this light, but she made me wear a pink tie too.” Draco tightened the knot of it against his neck. “Oh, you might want to watch out for the Saint Valentine’s Mistletoe.”
“Saint Valentine’s? Mistletoe?” Draco pointed up and behind her, and she searched for the poisonous plant, which was adorned with jelly hearts and lips. “Why would you still have mistletoe up?”
“I never had it in the first place!”
“Iseult’s idea,” they both said together. Ginny shook her head, smiling as she poured generous amounts of the amber liquor into red cups, nearly finishing it off. “Oh, how much I love you for having a secret stash of whiskey, Draco. There are what, about a million randy and single people here? I’m surprised you have any liquor left at all,” Ginny handed the bottle back to him.
“Isn’t that a bit much for you, Weasley?” he asked, holding the bottle up and drinking back the absolute last ounce she had left in it.
“A bit much? For me?” She scoffed, “Darling, I can drink every person in here, including you, under the table.” Ginny said and knocked on the countertop. “One of the benefits of growing up with an all male family, I learned how to hold my drink. When was the last time you ever saw me well, looking like that?” A girl walked by in only a skirt and bra, and with red hearts drawn all over her body. She was laughing as another girl carrying their handbags and cloaks helped her to the exit. “Who are some of these people anyway?”
“Not anyone I’d be friends with,” Draco said and hoisted himself onto the counter. All of the sudden a collective groan was heard from the partygoers as the music stopped abruptly. Draco and Ginny looked around in every direction, and a peculiar feeling was felt by everyone as complete silence hung for a long moment. Instantly an enthusiastic uproar of shouts, whoops and applause rang out as the music started up again. He shook his head, smiling, “I’m just glad that I charmed the place against anyone using magic in here tonight. I can’t imagine how bad it would be if I didn’t.”
“Me too... Why—”
“Isn’t this being held downstairs at Iseult’s? You know, I haven’t the foggiest,” Draco laughed. “Doesn’t matter anyway, it won’t be that much of a problem cleaning up. Thank Merlin for magic.”
“I’ll drink to that. But we’ll stay afterwards to help you out, I mean, it wouldn’t be right if we didn’t. Okay? You know, as thanks for inviting me—us.” Draco nodded and Ginny picked up the drinks she had made. “Another benefit of growing up with an all male family, you learn to clean an entire house in three spells or less, thanks to mum of course. This will all be child’s play for me. Well... I’m going go find Luna. She’s playing photographer on the balcony and I don’t think I want to miss out on that anymore than I have already.”
As Ginny walked off Draco picked away the empty bottles from the counter and bent to toss them in the garbage bin under the sink, careful so they wouldn’t shatter. He struggled to close the packed cupboard, and as he looked up, a pair of smooth legs wearing black, lacquered stiletto heels dangled in front of him, knocking against the cupboard. Draco followed the length of them up, from heel to ankle to calf to knee to thigh to the hem of a shimmering dress, and he bit his tongue once he realised who they belonged to.
“Enjoying the view? Nice party you’ve got going here, Malfoy,” Hermione Granger said as she looked down on him.
“Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” Draco replied loudly as he washed his hands on one side of the sink. “I thought I was dreaming when I saw you walk in earlier, but now I’ve come to the conclusion it’s a nightmare.”
“Hey, Malfoy,” she pointed at him, “sod off!”
“Hey, Granger, this is my house, so go screw yourself and leave if you don’t like it!” He stood in front of her and placed his hands on his waist. “Having a good time gate crashing my party?”
“Gate crashing? How can that be when I was invited? Just because I wasn’t on your guest list, doesn’t mean I wasn’t on someone else’s.”
“That would be a wonderful defence elsewhere, but I know for a fact that you’ve never met Iseult before, so I’m going to assume you’re what Weasley really meant when she said ‘us girls’. I knew there was something off about how she said it.”
“Well, allow me to express my gratitude by saying thank you for allowing an unwanted individual, such as me, to gate crash your party.”
“You know, when I told her to ‘bring girls,’ I should have been more specific and said, ‘bring any girl, aside from Granger, with you.’” He looked at Hermione, who touched her hand to her chest, pretending as if she were hurt. “You look good, Granger.”
“Thank you. You don’t look half bad yourself... Come here fore a second,” she said and grabbed him by his tie. “Who taught you how to dress? You look much too stiff for a party, and in more ways than one. Well, except for your hair, the bed-head look suits you well.” Draco messed it up more than it already was, and out of sheer, morbid curiosity as to why, he let her manhandle him as she was about to. “Now in all seriousness, you should always,” Hermione reached behind him and pulled the back of his button up shirt from his denim pants, “leave the back untucked, and,” she yanked on it and pulled it taught, then reached down to the front of his shirt, “have only the front of your shirt tucked. You’ll look more slender, girls like that.” Hermione shoved the edges of his shirt down his pants as far as her arms could reach. Standing that close to her, it hit him that she really did look good, better than good, hot, he said to himself and shook the thought from his head.
“You, you’re drunk, aren’t you?” Draco was serious and realised that she was now very aware that he wasn’t wearing underpants. Hermione’s every move was sharp and quick, pulling, folding, and tucking him in. She loosened his tie, rolled up his sleeves, and then unbuttoned his waistcoat and finally the top most button of the shirt he was wearing.
“Not even slightly.”
“High?”
“I don’t believe marijuana makes a person feel like I do right now,” she unbuckled his belt, and loosened it one notch.
“There are other drugs.”
“In truth, I wouldn’t know, I’ve never used any drug, Muggle or magical... There, much better. Now you look like...” she bit her lip, curiously.
“Like what?”
She pulled him close and whispered in his ear, “Like someone I’d like to fuck.”
Cor, he mouthed as he chuckled at her sudden brazen demeanour. “That’s quite a mouth you have there, Granger.”
“Malfoy, you have no idea,” she said and Draco stepped back. He flattened his tie against his chest, and then buttoned the middle two buttons of his waistcoat.
“It’s absolutely masochistic the way you flirt with me, I hope you know.”
“I believe you’re the masochist, since you seem to enjoy it,” Hermione eyed him puckishly, crossing her legs the other way. “Do you have a Valentine?”
“No, and a great ‘hell no’, goes for the next question you’ve got on your mind as well.”
“Oh really? And what question would that be?” Hermione asked. She uncrossed her legs and rested her hands on the counter between her knees, leaning forward, close to him.
“Miss Granger, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.” Hermione laughed softly. “Are you?”
“What do you think?” Hermione’s dress glimmered in the light, and Draco couldn’t tell what colour it was; everything was a shade of red and black. The lights flickered and she looked down and then up at him quickly. The only word that could describe the way the lights made everything feel was thick; Draco took a deep breath and felt as if he was inhaling steam. Everything from the way her wavy and curled hair fell over her shoulders and back, to the way her shadowy eyes seemed like they were about to swallow him whole, to the way her lips were just barely parted, it was all very, incredibly, thick.
Draco would not answer her. Instead he stepped to the sink and pulled his seemingly frozen beer from it. He opened the bottle and Hermione took it from him, hopped off the counter and walked away without looking back as she took a large swig.
“Cheers?” he said, raising his empty hand in the air. Draco watched her walk, and as the red lights faded out and then in, she disappeared into the party. Shaking his head and remembering it was the last beer, “Oi!” he shouted and followed her.
Draco saw a glimmer to his left and spotted Hermione drinking and passing through a group of people who were talking with a man dressed as Cupid, from head to wings. He was tossing heart-tipped winged darts throughout the room.
“Bugger,” he mumbled as one fluttered softly into his ear, realising his magic prevention charms weren’t up to par. “Granger!” Draco shouted as he spotted Hermione in the middle of the dancing group, and grabbed her wrist. “That’s my beer you’ve go there!”
“Oh, that can’t be the only reason why you followed me,” she said, tipping the bottle back and taking three long gulps. “Tasty...” Hermione licked her lips and shoved the empty bottle into Draco’s free hand. He looked at it, and then at Hermione as they both stood motionless among all the dancers. “Would you mind not staring at me like that, Malfoy?”
“Like what?” Draco let go of her wrist, but she didn’t seem intimidated by him, rather, she seemed aroused.
“Well,” she spoke softly in Draco’s ear, hesitating briefly, “like you want to have sex with me.”
Draco turned his head quickly and was nearly lip to lip with her, “You wish.”
“No? Maybe I should do something to change that then,” she licked his lips with the tip of her tongue and Draco gripped the bottle, praying it didn’t break in his hand. “Mmm, tasty... Wicked party, by the way, absolutely wicked.”
“I only wanted my beer, Granger!” Draco shouted over the music and took a deep, steamy breath. The lights faded out and then in, and Hermione disappeared into the party, leaving him in an incredible stupor. “Absolutely mental, that one,” he said out loud. People knocked into him left and right, bringing him back to reality. He stood for a moment, and was pulled aside by someone standing next to the Cupid; it was Luna.
“Draco Malfoy, are you all right?” she asked, hiccupping and picking up the beer bottle that he had dropped when she grabbed him. The man dressed as Cupid put his arm around Luna’s shoulder; Ginny was talking and laughing with the group of half-naked people from the balcony and Draco wondered how long he had been standing on the improvised dance floor. “Can I take a photograph of you?” Before he could answer, Luna raised her camera and snapped away. Draco flinched, blinded by the flash bulb as it went off. “I’ll owl you copies of all the photos once I have them processed.”
“Sure, thanks,” he said and she took another photo.
“Great party, mate,” Cupid held his hand out to Draco. “Iseult invited me, I’m Cupid.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured that from the getup,” Draco took the man’s outstretched hand and shook it. “Do you have a real name?”
“What?” He looked at Luna, who shrugged her shoulders. “No, actually, that is my name. It’s Cupid.”
“Really?” Cupid nodded, “I bet you get that a lot. Thanks Weasley,” Draco said when Ginny handed him one of the drinks she had made earlier. Apparently she made it for herself for safe keeping. “Mind telling me why you’re dressed like that?”
“Because if I actually say on Valentine’s Day, ‘my name is Cupid,’ dressing like this today makes it easier to explain myself, that is, until I run into a cynic.”
Draco laughed, not at the joke, but at the ridiculousness of it all. He drank the strong drink Ginny had made, and tried his best to forget about the way Hermione was acting. He went around the room and lifted the spells that turned the lights red, allowing some of them to be the normal white. A soft, pinkish-orange haze loomed in the air, creating the sexiest mood-lighting he had ever seen.
Luna, Ginny and Hermione quickly became the life of the party, taking photos, mixing drinks, and chatting up every person around them. It seemed as if everywhere Draco looked, Hermione was standing right there, and he immediately wished he left the lights red. Luna took pseudo-provocative photos of her and Ginny with the half-naked bunch; she put on red lipstick and kissed the collars of all but every man, and downright flirted with every woman that, by chance, Draco had found attractive. He wondered what Hermione was playing at. Was she doing it because she was with her friends, and only wanted to have a good time, or was she really doing it because she wanted to have his attention? Either way, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
“So tell me, Granger,” Draco said, finally catching her off guard in the kitchen at the makeshift bar, “if you’re not drunk, and not on any drug, what is with you tonight?” He bowed his head to speak into her ear, “For my own sanity, I sure as hell would like to know.”
“Malfoy, if you really have to ask,” Hermione said, standing on her toes to speak, “you’ll never know.”
Draco stood up straight for a moment, thinking. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a smart boy,” she replied. “You can figure it out.”
Once again Draco stood up straight, thinking, longer this time. “Granger if you want to have sex, all you have to do is say the word, my bedroom is right over there. We can go right now if you want,” he pointed with his drink. “Is that it? ...Is that what you want from me?” Hermione nodded as if the answer couldn’t have been more obvious. He scratched his head. “Okay then. Let’s go,” Draco took her hand and led her through the kitchen and living room, walking quickly to the back hallway that led to the bedrooms. It was when he went to remove the magical barrier blocking people from entering that he felt his arm jerk back and a swift slap against his cheek.
“Let go, arsehole! Where are you taking me?” A girl Draco didn’t recognise pulled her hand from his. She was shocked and frightened. “What in bloody fuck do you think you’re doing?” She went to slap Draco again, but he stopped her hand in mid air.
“I though you were someone else. Sorry,” he pulled her hand down forcefully. The girl gave him an odd look and grabbed another nearby girl. She whispered something in her ear and they both left, shooting daggers at him.
Draco stretched his jaw and placed his frosty cup against his cheek where she hit him.
“Naughty boy, Malfoy,” Hermione appeared in front of him.
“That was a nasty trick,” he gritted his teeth.
“Trick? No, I just had a problem with the way you were going about doing this,” she took a step forward, and Draco stepped backwards. He walked through the magical barrier while Hermione remained on the other side, not able to go any farther. “If we’re going to have sex, ‘let’s go shag,’ isn’t going to cut it.”
“Whatever you’ve taken, I want some of it, because—what do you want from me?”
She trailed her fingers along the barrier, soft sparks popping under the tips as she touched it. “I just want you—all of you, Malfoy. But since you don’t seem ready just yet, I’ll just have to wait until you are begging for me to let you in... Even so, I don’t think you have it in you to handle me. I just might be too much for you.”
“I can handle anything you throw at me but—”
“But?”
“But no,” Draco said matter-of-factly, “the day I beg you for sex is the day I’m no longer a Malfoy. I thought nailing you would get you off my dick and that’s all. Don’t waste your time with me, Granger. I don’t want it like that, I never will. I wouldn’t pull you back begging, not even if you walked away from me and I was forced to do the five knuckle shuffle the rest of my life. Not today, not ever.”
She did not answer. Instead Hermione walked through the barrier, and in two long strides had Draco pressed firmly against the wall in the shadows. She sniffed along his neck and chin, up to his ear and across his cheek, as if she were a lioness, scenting out her prey.
“Then why can I walk through your barrier? ...Afraid you’ll like it, Malfoy? Never thought you’d ever want a mudblood, I think,” she said, bending and smelling from his navel up as she slithered up his body. “Oh, what I wouldn’t do to feel your hands all over me, to feel you inside of me, to fuck all night long. I’m so wet for you, I wish I wore knickers to soak it all up... I only pray I could make you admit to how you really feel at this moment. I’d give anything to have you pull me back if I left. Anything,” she hissed. “It’s not the same when I close my eyes and imagine you as I pleasure myself at night, sweating and writhing about under the sheets as I touch my pussy.”
Draco heard no music or any other voice from the party; there was only her voice in his ear, and her lips against his as she finally kissed him. He was losing his mind quicker than he thought he would. She was licking his ear, sucking on his neck, sliding her hands up the back of his shirt, stroking his cock through his pants, and he craved every luscious moment of it. The strap of her dress fell from her shoulder, and Draco pulled it down farther, exposing her breast. Twisting the fabric between his fingers, he fought the urge to take it in his hand and fondle her nipple. All he wanted was throw her up against the wall, tear off her dress and take her faster, harder, better than she ever thought possible.
Why, Granger? He pleaded with himself. Of all people why, Granger? Why Granger? He tore his mouth away, placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back from him.
“No...” He held up his finger, “Not right now.” Hermione sighed and put her dress back right. Draco dug his fingers through his hair, messing it about. He fixed his shirt how he liked and cricked his neck. She smiled, completely sinister, and left him behind.
A few minutes later and sitting on a stool against the wall, sipping whatever liquor he poured into his cup, Draco watched, mesmerised as Hermione danced with Ginny and Luna, all of them groping each other playfully. They were dancing with everyone, keeping the men close, and the women closer, teasing the small crowd. Hermione swayed her hips to the music, moving in sensual grace as the other two ran their hands over her body, flashing her sinister smile in his direction. Draco pulled on the crotch of his pants as he felt it tighten, becoming aroused.
“Fucking, prick,” he laughed loudly, truly amused with himself, and pulled a cigarette from the silver case he kept in his back pocket. Breaking his own in-house rules, he lit up, and smoked it inside.
“Draco!” He looked up at the sound of his name being shouted.
“Malfoy!”
“Draco Malfoy!” Ginny, Hermione, and Luna hollered at him as they danced, gesturing for him to join them.
“No,” he shook his head, holding his hand up in protest, “I don’t want to.”
“Please, Draco? DRACO!” They were all begging for him to get up.
“No, no! I don’t dance!” he shouted as Luna ran up, and dragged him to where they were dancing. “Someone must have put a love potion in your drinks; you girls are never this friendly.”
“But it’s your party, and you must dance at least once!” Ginny hopped around him as he danced completely devoid of rhythm, and Luna shimmied against him with her back against his chest. “It’s Valentines Day! Everyone gets love today!” Draco looked at Hermione, catching her eye.
“L-O-V-E!” Luna shouted and shot her hands in the air. She turned around and threw her arms around his neck, and continued to dance. Draco felt a pair of hands slip around his waist from behind, thinking they were Hermione’s. He turned around, discovering it was Ginny. There was a sudden bright flash, and Draco flinched. Hermione was taking photos with Luna’s camera. “Let me take a picture of you with him, Hermione! Here’s this!”
Luna pulled a tube of cherries-in-the-snow red lipstick from her pocket, and traded it for her camera. Hermione applied the vibrant makeup to her mouth and ran over to him. She grabbed Draco by the collar of his shirt and placed her lips on his cheek, and waited for the flash. She bit Draco’s ear in a second photo, and threw her head back in laugher for a third as he remained a statue in his place.
Ginny howled in delight and hopped into the photo as well, dropping to her knees, grabbing onto his belt buckle and smiling coyly for the camera. Draco couldn’t help but laugh.
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Sitting in a chair on the roof, Draco smoked his second to last cigarette, taking his sweet, sweet time. The dancing had led to more drinking and the drinking led to more smoking and before he knew it, his new harem had their hands in his pockets, plucking cigarettes from his pants whenever they pleased. He and Hermione played their game all night. A brush of the hand here, a slip of the tongue there, a dirty word next; it was like hours and hours of adolescent foreplay, under the guise of having fun at a Valentine’s party.
Draco looked to the street below, and saw a large group or people exit the building. One girl stuck her arm in the air, and a deafening bang rang throughout the street. The Knight Bus appeared amidst a cloud of smoke and took on the bumbling and drunken individuals, too many for Draco to count.
“She swore that she loved me, never would she leave me! But the devil take that woman, for you know she tricked me easy!” Three men with their arms around each other were singing at the top of their lungs as they stumbled out of the building as well.
“Whassa next line?” One shouted as they passed a bottle among them.
“Musha ring dumma do damma da! Whack for the daddy 'ol! Whack for the daddy 'ol! There's whiskey in the jar!”
“Fancy seeing you up here. Aren’t you cold without a cloak, Malfoy?” he looked over his shoulder; Hermione was standing in the doorway to the stairwell. Without the irregular lights, Draco finally saw her dress was an amber-gold frock that clung perfectly to her body, and as she walked, every shimmering facet on it glimmered in his eyes. A cloak was draped over her one shoulder and hung from one elbow, and it pooled around her when she sat in a chair across from him.
“Not really. I’m used to it,” Draco replied. “Are you leaving?”
“Maybe,” she said and placed her feet on his chair, between his knees. “I’m slightly jealous. You and Luna make a wonderful couple. I felt terrible when you stole her from Cupid.”
“Merlin he was irritating. She asked me to get rid of him because he was bothering her and getting in the way of all her other prospects. I would gladly, I told her. Iseult was right, the mistletoe was a good idea,” they both laughed. Draco offered her a cigarette from the slender silver case he pulled from his pocket. She reached forward and instead, pulled the cigarette from his mouth, took a short drag and put it back. “Never seen anyone give up so quickly before.”
“I highly doubt any bloke would try and compete against you once you’ve set your sights on a girl,” Hermione slid her cloak from her shoulders. “What are you thinking about up here?”
“A lot of things,” Draco rubbed the back of his neck and chin, giving Hermione an odd look as she knelt down in front of him. He leaned back in his chair, thinking. “You knew I wasn’t wearing underpants when you fixed my shirt, didn’t you?”
“I did,” Hermione’s skin looked perfectly smooth, not a single millimetre of it was goose fleshed.
“That was singularly the hottest thing anyone has done to me in public.”
“Funny. I’ve done hotter... You really shouldn’t think too much into this, Malfoy. I turn you on, big deal. Like I ever thought I’d be fantasizing about you whenever I pleasured myself.”
Cor, he thought she was lying earlier. She reached up and began to undo his belt, but Draco stopped her.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Granger?” He stared at her, his eyes unwavering as she stared back with utter determination. He took a quick drag from his cigarette and put it out in an ashtray. “Have you really thought this out, I mean do you really want to start something up with me? No, wait,” he covered Hermione’s mouth as she was about to retort, “Let me rephrase that. Do you think you can handle me, Granger?”
“Malfoy,” Hermione sat, straddling his lap, “Would you shut up and fuck me already?”
Hermione dragged the flat of her tongue along the side of Draco’s face near his ear, from his chin to the temple, and quickly moved to his mouth, kissing him hard and forcing her tongue in. She pulled away as he kissed back, sucking on his lip and biting it, causing it to bleed. Before Draco could wipe his lip, Hermione stood up. Right away, he pulled her back and kissed her, digging his hand in her hair as he slid his other hand up her dress, giving her the answer she wanted. His fingers gripped her rear and she rocked her hips, grinding against his erection. Draco moaned into her mouth and Hermione took advantaged of his moment of weakness and pushed away from him, and picked up her cloak.
“On second thought—”
“Fuck, what are you doing to me, Granger?”
“It’s far too cold out here, even for what we’re going to do,” she straightened her dress and kissed him once more, speaking against his mouth as he stood up with her. “The party may be over for everyone else, but for us it’s just begun.” Hermione tore away and walked back inside.
Draco gasped, hardly able to keep his balance. He sat down and quickly lit another cigarette. He sucked down on it as hard as he could in one breath, and forced himself to get up and follow her. He carefully walked inside, not wanting to slip and saw Hermione turn the corner to the hallway leading to his home. What seemed to be the last of the party goers was coming at him, and slowed Draco down. He pushed through and one of them grabbed his arm.
“Draco! You completely vanished, I thought you passed out or something!” Ginny exclaimed as she and Luna, who was humming dreamily, remained. “When we couldn’t find you, we got worried and placed some cleaning spells to get rid of everyone. Best way to force the end of a party, if you ask me; they all took flight at once. It’s in tip-top shape back there.”
“Thanks Weasley, I appreciate it,” he said and looked to his front door, which closed quietly. “Do you need help getting home?”
“No, we’re just waiting. Hermione is in there right now, she went to find her purse; I think someone stole it, but she’s checking again to make sure.”
“Huh? Stolen?” Draco looked once more at his door, catching on. “No, I doubt that. I bet it’s in one of the blocked off rooms. I’ll help her find it. You two take off, I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”
“Since when do you worry about Hermione getting home safe?”
“It’s not Granger I’m worried about,” Draco ran his fingers through his hair, “It’s what Potter and your brother would do to me if I didn’t make sure you lot got home alright, especially after leaving my place.”
“Oh, right,” Ginny nodded knowingly. “Well, if I don’t hear from her in the morning, I’ll warn you, first thing. Okay?” She smiled and kissed Draco on the cheek; Luna took one last picture. “Goodnight, Draco.”
“... Stir my cauldron, and if you do it right, I'll boil you up some hot, strong love to keep you warm tonight.” Luna sang, and kissed Draco on both cheeks. “Good night, Draco Malfoy.”
“Luna, you’re going to have to get rid of that last photo if you want to remain my friend,” Ginny said as they walked down the hallway towards the lifts.
“I think that one is the least of your worries, Ginny.”
Draco waited for them to disappear from sight. He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked and smoked, flicking his cigarette repeatedly.
“Is this... Am I in the right place?” He wondered when he walked in. A dark blue and golden light from outside soothed his eyes; there was no thick-redness and no sexy haze, it was just his flat, empty, quiet, still, and much to his surprise, sparkling clean. The furniture was in its place, the rooms were empty and the mistletoe was gone, most likely burning in the cackling fireplace. Dazzling firelight bounced off the walls and warmed him to the core in an instant. His home was his home again, no longer the scene of a party.
“All right then,” he hardly remained a second before kicking the door shut behind him and pulling off his shoes and socks, hopping to get them off. Draco’s feet slapped against the wooden floor as he made his way through the living room. He tossed his cigarette in the fire as he passed it, pulled off his tie, took off his waistcoat and shirt, and dropped them on the floor. Hermione was waiting in his bedroom for him with his back to her.
Draco spun her around quickly, surprising her and pulling her hard into his body. They swayed together, walking towards the bed as they stared at each other, their breathing heavy and eager. Hermione mockingly bit at him, and Draco jerked his head back.
“Still afraid of me, Malfoy?” She pushed her mouth onto his and kissed him roughly. Draco fought her and she fought back, rendering their kisses more intense and urgent. She laughed against his mouth, and he cried out, frustrated.
“Take of your knickers,” Draco said, pulling off his belt and unbuttoning his pants, allowing them to hang on his hips.
“Not wearing any. Remember?” she took his hand and guided it between her thighs, pressing his fingers in as she bit her lip. The back of her knees hit the bed, and she fell onto it. Draco settled over her and tore apart her dress from her body as she writhed in anticipation. Beads and buttons clamoured to the floor as he tossed the shredded material aside. He held her hands over her head and kissed her again.
“Give me that pillow,” he demanded and Hermione handed him a one from behind her head; he placed it under her hips, propping her up. He spread her legs wider and kneeled between them, and swooped down on her, kissing her deep and impatiently as he gripped the back of her head.
“What?” Hermione asked, “No foreplay?”
“Nope, no more games. We’ve had enough of that. And we’re doing you first,” Draco said and pushed his tongue into her mouth. She latched onto it, wrapping her arms around his neck and hooked her leg behind his back. She pushed off his pants with her feet and felt his erection press against her hip. Draco kissed along Hermione’s neck and collarbone, down her chest and licked her velvety nipples. She moaned and cursed as he teased her, trailing his fingers over the apex of her thighs and then grazing over her labia.
“Let’s see how wet you really are,” Hermione twitched, and Draco laughed. “I’ve hardly touched you Granger, and already you’ve nearly come in my hand? I knew you were just acting.” He grunted and started to kiss up her belly again. Hermione reached down and pushed on his shoulders, urging him to go down on her. Draco once more spread her knees apart, and first slid his fingers into her. She moaned and bucked her hips as he held her pelvis down with his other hand. Draco stroked her in a come-hither motion as he ran circles around her throbbing clitoris with his thumb.
“How does that feel, Granger?” He asked and bent to kiss her again. He pumped his fingers in and out of her as her breath hitched in her chest. “I love how wet you are for me.” He trailed his tongue from the hollow of her neck and met her mouth again. “Tell me, do you like me fucking you with my hand?”
“Yes, yes...” she moaned and arched her back.
“Say it like you mean it,” his voice rasped in her ear, sing-song and sending chills down her spine.
“Fuck me,” she pleaded and whimpered. “Please, please, another,” she begged for another finger inside of her.
“A third?” He asked stopping and teasing her. Hermione reached down and held his hand in place as he began to remove his fingers.
“Absolutely, yes,” she gasped, lifted her chin, and tried to kiss him; Draco jerked his head back, shaking it ‘no’.
“No, I have a better idea,” Draco said as she tried to kiss him again and moved away, finally settling low between her knees. “Grab onto that headboard,” he advised and immediately he was right where she wanted. His tongue was jutting in and out of her as she arched her back against him. Hermione gripped the headboard with one hand and fisted the sheets with the other as she screamed out every time his tongue flicked against her clit.
“Don’t stop,” she moaned, “Please, don’t, Draco,” she shouted his first name for the first time. “Oh, Draco, Draco, please!” She shouted and cried out as if her entire body were on fire. Draco’s tongue was swift, and Hermione’s breath was more and more ragged with ever bow of his head. Her body trembled, and at the very moment Hermione was ready, Draco blew a sharp breath against her clitoris, and she fell apart instantly, shattering into a million little pieces as she came. Draco kissed up her stomach again, and pulled her back into his chest as he stroked her gently with the back of his hand.
Her breath was sharp and he whispered fucking Granger in her ear as he twisted her nipple between his fingers. Draco kissed her cheek and nuzzled her neck as she calmed down. They kissed passionately for several minutes as Hermione gathered herself. He pinched her nipple once more and her entire body convulsed. Draco chuckled deeply, his voice vibrating against her body.
“Ready to have a go at me?” He asked. Draco was itching to really get inside of her, and he smiled as she wrapped her fingers around his rigid cock.
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Hermione said, rubbing the tip with her thumb, and smearing a growing bead of semen it over it. She straddled him, standing on her knees as she got into position. “I think,” she purred and slid the tip between her folds, teasing herself, “This will be,” Hermione lowered herself onto his penis, and then lifted herself once more, biting her lip, “Proof,” she lowered her hips more, then raised them before she was all the way down and Draco moaned, “That you can’t handle me.”
She teased herself several more times, and Draco more than gladly watched as Hermione pleasured herself with his penis, moaning as she guided the tip against the side of her clitoris. She grabbed her breast with her other hand and rolled her nipple between her fingers and Draco cried out.
“Do it already, damn you!” he blurted, pounding the bed with his fist. Finally Hermione lowered herself fully onto him, letting out a pleasured sigh, and threw her head back, rocking slowly against him at first.
She fell onto him and ran her tongue along the thin trail of white-blonde hair from his crotch to his navel, and Draco shuddered in delight. She nipped his skin with her teeth and pushed off from him, thrusting her pelvis forward and up, then back down again. A loud, guttural moan escaped her chest and she began to thrust continuously, slapping wet and noisily against him.
“Harder, Granger!” Draco said, trying to grab her rear to guide her. She slapped his hands away and rode him as she pleased, smirking at him the entire time. Hermione dug her fingers into her hair, thrusting and grunting loudly. Draco tried shouting out to her to go faster, by words failed him as her breasts bounced in front of him. He could see how hard her nipples were from where he was laying, protruding out, and again she grabbed her breast, kneading it with her hand and pinching the rock-hard nipple. “Faster! Don’t. Make. This. All. About. You.” He was begging, rolling his hips along with hers. She smiled her sinister smile, laughing. Draco could hardly take it, he desperately wanted to come, but she wouldn’t let him. Hermione kept bringing him to the edge, goading him to leap, and the second he was ready, she pulled him back. As frustrating as it was, Draco loved it.
“Are you just going to sit there,” she asked, mocking him, “or are you going to do something about it already?” Draco became instantly determined and sat up, taking her into his lap. Hermione kissed him, biting his lip and drawing blood again as Draco held onto her hips. He scooted to the edge of the bed, and grabbed Hermione’s arse cheeks as he stood up. She locked her ankles behind his back as he hurried and pushed her against the wall, pounding into her.
“Harder, harder!” she ordered, her voice unsteady as she dug her fingers into his shoulders and buried her head into his neck. “P-please,” she struggled to talk, and Draco roared, completely beyond any stage of arousal he had ever been in his entire life. He closed his eyes and prayed for a climax.
“Draco,” Hermione’s voice was clear and steady in his ear for the first time, and she petted the back of his head. “Come for me... Now.” she cooed and kissed his mouth and Draco opened his eyes as his knees buckled and icy hot wave of relief washed over him. He came, a thousand times over he felt as if he came, and then toppled to the floor, gasping and panting, relishing in the power of his orgasm.
Once, twice, three times Hermione trusted against him and she moaned in ecstasy, climaxing again. She fell on top of him slick bodied, and kissed him gingerly on his face as she caught her breath. She got up, steadied herself on the wall, and then wobbled to the bed. Draco looked backwards and up at her, smirking.
“Enough for me too,” he said and Hermione nodded as she climbed under the sheets. Draco followed suit and tucked in next to her.
He closed his eyes and felt Hermione turning over and shifting next to him uncontrollably. He was about to tell her to settle down when he felt the most amazing sensation. Draco opened his eyes and pulled the bed sheet away, and watched as Hermione took the length of his penis in her mouth.
She stopped momentarily to pull the sheet back over her head and say, “Try to keep from screaming ‘Hermione’.”
He bit his knuckle, and punched the headboard as he stared at the ceiling. Draco arched his back and everything went white.
↓
Draco awoke with a start as his alarm clock went off right at six that morning. He picked it up and swiftly flung it against the wall across the room, shutting it up instantly. He rolled over, pulled Hermione into the nook of his body, and fell asleep right away.
↓
He woke up sometime later to the noise of the shower faucet truing off. Draco opened his eyes blearily and the door to the bathroom was open a crack; he could see Hermione towelling off inside. He flattened his face against his pillow, and looked over to her again. He could see her moving about, but couldn’t tell what she was doing exactly. Draco moved onto his side, propping himself up with his elbow and waited for her to emerge.
Hermione finally walked out a few minutes later, fully dressed in a black pants suit and the pink tie slung around her neck, ready to go to the Ministry, where he knew she worked. She paused briefly when she noticed he was awake, smiled, and walked over to him.
“Good morning,” Hermione said and sat on the edge of his bed, and slipped on her razor-sharp black heels.
“I hope you didn’t use my toothbrush.”
“No, I didn’t,” she smiled half heartedly. “My parents are dentists. I never leave the house without my wand and a toothbrush in my bag.” Hermione turned and kissed him. “Since you decided to tear apart my dress beyond repair, I borrowed one of your suits to for today. I live in the Muggle part of town, what did you expect me to do? Hail a taxi naked as a jaybird?”
“You’d look good doing it.”
Hermione laughed, “Thank you.”
“Minor shrinking spell?” It was more of a statement than a question. Draco sat up, and began to fix the tie for her. “It’s my best suit, I fully expect on getting it back by tonight in the condition you found it in.” He was stern with his words as he slid the knot of the tie firmly against her neck. He tucked the ends under the waistcoat.
“I think— I think I want to keep it,” she said, standing up and admiring herself in a full length mirror in the corner of the room.