The Lure of a Dragon | By : Alessandra Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 16753 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Temptation overtakes a certain Gryffindor on a hot summers night. PWP. DM/HG (no fluff, sorry)
Setting: Seventh Year.
Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Disclaimer
I do not own any of the characters, names, etc of Harry Potter. I am not making any money off of this fan fic. This is merely for entertainment purposes only.
The Lure of a Dragon
Hermione Granger, a muggle-bortch tch of vast talent and knowledge in witchcraft, sat at the corner of the Gryffindor common room. Her orchid pink fan, just inches away from her left ear, was the size of a tea saucer and flapping rather rapidly, a reminisence to a hummingbird. She sighed, unenthusiastic, as she watched her two best mates play wizards chess. Both Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were heavily immersed into their own game. It certainly was a grueling battle with only one bishop taken from Harry's side and two pawns from Ron.
Dean Thomas, the tallest boy in the Gryffindor tower, was sitting at a desk sketching out the event of Harry's bishop being walloped by Ron's knight. Seamus Finnigan and Neville Longbottom were both indulging in Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and some Fizzing Wizzbees. Hermione's two dormitory mates, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, were missing from the common room, but Hermione had no doubt that they were pouring over astrological charts somewhere. Also missing was Ginny Weasley, who had taken to a Hufflepuff earlier on in the year, and Hermione surmised that she must be skipping the corridors with him. The clever witch finally concluded that she was bored.
Hermione whipped her wand around and her orchid pink fan disappeared as quickly as it flapped. She rose from her seat, and said to Harry and Ron, “I'm going down to the kitchens to see about some ice lemonade. Would any of you care to join me?”
No one answered. Instead Ron grunted as his rampaging knight was clobbered.
“Well then, perhaps someone would like me to bring them back something?” she asked again out of sheer politeness and again nobody answered.
Hermione then began off toward the kitchen, running into Ginny Weasley briefly as she crawled out of the portrait hole. Ginny appeared flustered and her flaming red hair was touselled. They greeted each other cordially, but the redheaded girl seemed to be eager to get into the common room, and they didn't talk long.
The halls were nearly deserted this evening. Everyone seemed to prefer to be in their common rooms fanning themselves rather than wander the corridors. Even Filch and Mrs Norris wasn't spotted whilst Hermione journeyed to the kitchen. And Hermione didn't blame anyone a bit for their choice, she tugged on her school robes that c to to her body, for she was already sweating rather profusely.
She had finally came to the kitchen and left with a large goblet of ice cold lemonade. The goblet was sweating and the ice already melting quickly, but Hermione lapped it up slowly savouring the refreshing taste as she began her trek back up to Gryffindor tower. Though as she exited from the kitchen corridor she ran into an unpleasant nemesis.
Draco Malfoy, tall and slender, his silver blond hair combed straight, and gray eyes as cold as ever, stood just a foot in front of Hermione. Obviously he was on his way to the kitchen himself, with perhaps the intentions of a refreshment himself. He smirked and slapped the goblet out of Hermione's hands and the cool contents went splashing over her.
“That was rather mature of you, Malfoy,” said Hermione acidly as he manuevered around her.
He didn't answer her nor did he turn around, he just kept walking on until he disappeared behind the painting of a bowl fruit that served as a kitchen door. Hermione stood there for a moment shaking off the sticky lemonade on her skin and clothes, then kicked the goblet across the corridor as she retreated back to Gryffindor tower.
She strolled through the torch lit corridors, sweaty and sticky, and, deciding a cool bath would be more sufficient, she detoured to the prefects bathing chambers. When she approached the door near the statue of Boris the Bewildered she spoke the password clearly, “Rubba Dubdub” and closed the door behind her.
It took her no time at all to peel off her robes, kick off her shoes, fill the massive tub with refreshingly cool water and dive on in -- literally. She dove from the diving board a few more times, giggling and enjoying herself, then let the bubbles and foam taps run as she sank into a shallow end, closed her eyes, and relaxed. Everything about the room was theraputical, a real stress relief zone that came in handy for Hermione on stressful days. She was thoroughly relaxed in the luxury that she almost didn't notice that water was now bubbling and swirling in every other direction, and that small holes inside the tub was spraying out jets of air.
Hermionippeipped back in slight panic, nearly swallowing the bubbling and foaming water, wondering what happened. Certainly she didn't do anything for the jets and the water to bubble, considering she didn't even know the bath had such features; all she turned on was the bubble tap, which was belching out in liquidy pops large purple and pink bubbles that went floating along the waters surface, and the foam tap, that was now somehow turned off. Hermione sunk down in the cool bubbling water, her face being the only visible part of her body.
“Myrtle is that you?” she called and her voice echoed off the walls. “Harold old me you lurk this bathroom too!”
But there was no answer. All that could be heard was the squishy pop of the bubbles being blown out of the tap, the boiling cool water, and a muffled giggled that Hermione surmised was coming from the painting of the mermaid, which was strangely turned around facing the wall.
“Peeves, is that you?” she called out again. “Flipping paintings around and turning on bath features isn't scaring me! So just leave me alone!”
And again there was no answer. Which of course silence is so unlike Peeves the Poltergeist, who never did anything silently.
Hermione then glanced back at the door which was still shut but ... “Unbolted!” She grabbed a fluffy white towel from the side of the tub and tied in around her body as she stepped out. She quickly scampered to the door, opened it and peered out into a deserted corridor. There was no one but the stony Boris the Bewildered. Hermione shrugged as she closed the door and, this time, bolted it shut.
The towel, now no longer fluffy but soaked, fell to the floor in a damp heap at the side of the tub as she stepped in once again. All suspicion aside as she concluded that she must have somehow triggered on the bubbling water and streaming jets. She laid her head back into the water, her bushy brown curls becoming soaked waves.
The jet on the side of the tub behind her was beating into her back, massaging her muscles. Extremely relaxed and a sensual feeling growing inside her, Hermione then raked her hands over breasts, cupping them and lightly pinching her rosy nipples. The water was starting to feeling warmer to Hermione now, perhaps because her arousal was growing into hungrily horny. She snaked a finger down past her navel and through the thick curls of pubic hair until it sunk into her warm folds. Then she bit her lip as she thought of an idea.
`No I probably shouldn't,´ she thought to herself. `But then, why not? It's not like there's anyone else in here!´
Hermione then rolled on her back in the water and spread her legs around the jet-hole. The air bubbles were pulsing against her tender hymen and a moan of satisfaction escaped her lips. She started in touching her breasts again, one hand feeling her curves and the other gripping the side of the tub. She was feeling so good, so good until a pair of hands grabbed her around the waist.
“Gee, Granger, I always thought of you as a prude,” said a familiar voice in her ear that made her grit her teeth, irritated.
“Malfoy, get out! Get out,” she shouted, clawing his hands away from her body, but he did not let go. “Get your hands off of me!”
“Alright then,” he said, releasing her from his grasp. “Not that I'd want to touch a filthy mudblood like you. I'd have to take another bath just to be clean.”
Hermione started wading toward the pile of fluffy, clean white towels where she had picked up the first one she used, but Draco Malfoy swam up behind her and penned her to the side of the tub, slapping her hand away as she reached for a towel.
“Where do you think you're going, Granger?”
“Away from you.” Hermione sounded outraged as she continued, “You have the gall to invade my bathing time when you're the one who spilt my lemonade all over me. You're just a stupid, ugly prat! Leave me alone!” She reached over for a towel again but, again, Draco slapped her hand away.
“Stupid? Ugly?” said Draco with a smirk. “Is that so?”
“Yes. And conceited.”
“Well, that I am,” said Draco. “Though I believe you know quite well that I am not stupid and ugly ... well ....” Draco pressed his body against hers and his manhood, aroused, grazing against the soft skin of her inner thigh. He leaned in, his lips gently brushing her earlobe, and whispered, “I think that's just another outright lie. Otherwise, you wouldn't look so flustered.”
“Flustered?” said Hermione coolly. “I am not flustered. I am annoyed.” Hermione placed her hands on his chest and tried pushing him away but he wrapped his arms around her body.
“Let's find out what inventive things a head boy and girl can do together that is not on our duty list, shall we?”
“No. I wouldn't fraternize with Slytherins.”
“And I wouldn't fraternize with Mudbloods ...,” said Draco, then added with a chortle, “and like you even fraternize at all! You're a virgin, aren't you?”
“It's none of your business,” snapped Hermione, offended.
“You are!” Draco's tone then took a drastic swerve and became suave and gentle as he traced circles with his finger tip on her shoulder, he said, “I can open a door of new lights and colours for you, pleasures that can't be matched by simple masterbation.”
Hermione didn't answer this time. Instead she gasped as his fingers slithered their way down her arm and began tracing the contours of her round breast. He softly rubbed her, she was trembling at his touch. Smirking, quite pleased with himself, he lowered his head level to her heaving bosom and began to gingerly assault her nipple. Hermione moaned desperately, not wanting to give into Malfoy's pleasures, but her body was surrendering so easily.
Draco's hand started to explore her body, now that Hermione was relaxing at his minustration. His hands smoothly slid down Hermione's backside and kneeded her round buttocks. Then, boldly, he slipped his index finger down into her crack, stopping at the rectum. Hermione gasped at the touch of Malfoy's finger at one of her openings and bit her lip as his suckling on her breast became more urgent. The Hermione half moaned and half yelped when his finger slowly entered her anus.
It was such a strange feeling, but Hermione found herself enjoying it more and more as he buried the whole of his thin finger inside her. His finger began to retreat, and just when Hermione was sure that Draco was pulling it out, he thrusted it back in much harder and faster.
“Oh, Draco,” she whispered breathlessly.
Draco pulled his finger from her and stared at her. “What? You want me to stop?” He was smirking, knowing that she was fulling enjoying what he was doing to her. And when Hermione shook her head Draco pulled himself out of the pool-sized tub, and said, “Get out of there.”
And she did. Standing there, naked in fronted of the enemy and he bare to her, she went red with embarrassment. Draco, spreading towels on the floor and grasping a bowl of strawberries, looked at her and laughed. The laugh was just as cold as it always was. Hermione wondered what she was doing. There he was, Draco Malfoy, kneeling down on the floor, in his bare, sallow skin, holding strawberries in hand ... waiting for her.
Hermione sat down on the towels Draco had spread out and his hands encouraged her to lay back. He fed her the strawberries, smirking as he did so, and brushing another of the sweet fruit across her stomach just before bringing it to her lips. Strawberries never tasted so sweet to Hermione. Never tasted so passionate, so erotic.
Then, finally, Draco pushed the bowl of strawberries aside and ran his tongue over Hermione's jaw line. She was tense as he covered her with his body, his hands roaming down to her waist. Using his knee, Draco spread her legs apart, as she had had them clamped together. Feeling her heart beating faster than she had ever felt it, Hermione started tsh Dsh Draco off of her; but he held his position over her, his hand secure around her waiste.
“Draco, I don't know ....” Hermione began, but did not finish. Draco had the tip of his penis now settle at her entrance and her breath was completely taken away. He slowly entered her at first, but as the head of his cock met with her fragil virginity he thrusted inside her quickly, Hermione howling like a sexually crazed werewolf underneath him.
She cried and she writhed as his thrusts became more violent, and soon he was sitting on his knees both hands holding her hips, slamming into her unmercifully. Tears were stinging in Hermione's eyes and she choked back a scream. Draco, on the other hand, was not relenting but only pounding harder. Then he drove himself deep inside her, his face contorting, and a strange feeling was spilling inside of her.
Draco withdrew himself from her snug cavern. She was laying very still and panting, staring dazed at the ceiling. Draco wrapped a towel around his waist, squated down next to Hermione and, her state going unnoticed, nudged her with the back of his hand telling her to leave.
“I have to take a bath, get out,” he said tonelessly, then threw a Hogwarts dress robe over her.
Slowly sitting up Hermione began to gather up her things. She didn't even bother looking at Draco. `You should have known better´ she said to herself. She walked to the door slowly and snapped the bolt back. Hermione felt so humiliated as she shut the door behind her.
THE END
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