Art Imitates Life | By : natloves16 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 5606 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: HP belongs to Rowling. No profit is being made from this fanfiction. |
She couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t stop it at all.
It was really bound to be a simple hex, and there was never
a time that she got one wrong. She knew that she should have second guessed
herself when she chose to dismiss her usual protocol. She knew well enough that
all new spells she have learned should be tested in a dummy first, but she had
been so excited that she skipped it all together.
She was heavily planning Draco Malfoy’s downfall, and after
months of careful planning and execution, she got a head of herself, and all
her pent up years of repressed anger came out in a single hex that she thought
would spell out victory for her. But alas, such as it is in Murphy’s Law, everything
went downhill for her.
Now she can’t stop copying Draco Malfoy, not just copy, but even
to the point of mimicking his slightest action. It started on breakfast, the
day after she finished the spell. She planned on doing it while he was sipping
his pumpkin juice, so that he wouldn’t notice the slight sting that came with
the spell. She tried her best to neutralize it to the point of almost making
the short stab unnoticeable. She got all too excited, and so with a little
swish and flick of her wand, she sent out the spell. Draco Malfoy didn’t seem
to notice, and in fact, caught her staring at him. He gave her a teasing smirk,
and mouthed his favorite word.
Mudblood.
She felt her anger bubbling out, like that of a cauldron. But
she then gave herself a small smile of victory, for she knew that his downfall
was about to pounce on him, without him having even the slightest clue. The
spell was supposed to take effect after five minutes, and so she waited… and
waited.
Suddenly, she felt an inextricable pain of lifting her arm
and running her right hand through her hair. It was then she knew that
something had gone awfully, awfully wrong. She watched in horror as she felt
herself mimic Draco, down to the littlest flick he gave to his collar, and even
in the way he grabbed a scone to bite. At first she tried to force herself not
to follow, but the pain was calling, and almost beckoning, there was no choice
but to follow or else be faced with a tremendous amount of physical agony.
She realized that there was no way out, unless she finds a
counter spell. She quickly said her goodbyes to her friends, Ron and Harry, and
gave a slight indication that she wasn’t feeling well due to her monthlies. She
rushed to her room, which she apparently shared with the Draco, being the
headboy to her headgirl.
She slowly let out a sigh of relief; she was out of danger,
at least for now. “What am I going to do?” she asked herself. But before she
could dwell on that thought, she felt herself touch her face, running a finger
on the bridge of her nose, and pinching it. She gave a small yelp; it wasn’t an
easy pinch at that.
She wondered why she didn’t felt the desire to walk, judging
by the time, classes were supposed to start. She didn’t want to miss classes
really, but by her condition, she had really no choice on the matter. She just
hoped that Ron and Harry would cover for her.
She quickly made her way to her desk, careful before another
reaction starts. She managed to pull out a quill, sheets of parchment, and the
reference book she derived the spell from. Before she could begin to write the
basic frame of the spell, another reaction took over her. This time it was even
less pleasant, with the force of her arm, she unwillingly cleared her desk, and
using both of her arms, she laid down her head and closed her eyes.
“Bloody hell, he’s not
supposed to be sleeping!” she exclaimed to herself. But then again, it was
Malfoy. He rarely did anything in class, maybe except play his dirty tricks on
her or anyone, for that matter.
In her current condition, she took it in herself to
contemplate. She was far from Malfoy, but still felt the twinges of forcing a
reaction. But the walking function was completely isolated. There could only be
one truth regarding the matter, and that is if she considers him as a signal
post, the closer she gets, the more the desire for her to follow his actions. Walking
was a bold gesture, and because they were rooms apart, she wasn’t at all
affected by his walking.
After of what seemed like as centuries, she finally raised
from her current position. This time, rubbing the back of her head, she figured
that he was probably whacked on the back of his head for sleeping.
Transfiguration was their first class on Mondays.
Her current situation was the least of her problems; the
colossal chunk of her problem will lie on the fact the moment the ferret comes
back. They would be in very near proximity, and she could no longer suppress
the walking function. She thought of immobilizing herself, but there was no one
to end the spell. She thought of concocting a potion, but at this rate, it was
impossible.
She buried her face in her hands. This was hopeless, and
hapless. She didn’t even get to wallow in her misery when she felt another
twinge of reaction coming from him.
On and on, the day went for Hermione just like that…
It had only just begun, but she was already tired as an ox.
-------------------------------------------------
She was sweating like a pig; she didn’t know that boys her
age tend to move around so much. The day was finally drawing to a close, and
she lay down on her bed, subjected to the torture of moving around like Draco
Malfoy.
She thought that she could buy herself some more time, but
then she heard their front door swing open. Already, she felt the extreme agony
of the need to follow him, to copy him. She bit her lip angrily, as she let
whatever unknown force carry her outside the confines of her room.
Draco was smirking at her when she saw him. “Mudblood, you
weren’t in class today…” he said haughtily, removing his tie with skillful
fingers. She felt herself do the same, as much as she tried to hold on to the
last vestiges of her control. She moved her fingers aptly on the knot of her
tie, removing it as he did his.
“Why, did you have late-night snogging sessions with the
Weasel?” he teased some more, apparently oblivious to her current crisis.
“You wish, Malfoy.” she taunted nervously.
He plopped down on their common room chair. She
unceremoniously followed. “Of course, who would snog a mudblood like you?” he
smirked at her.
She felt her mouth twitch in what only could be a poor copy
of Draco Malfoy’s smirk.
“Why, are you copying me Granger?” he asked. “You could at
least show some originality.” He said smugly, running a hand through his hair.
Hermione gulped loudly, surely he could tell by now that her
copying him was no mistake. Her hand was shaking as it made its way down to the
knots of her curls. She kept her eye contact, willing to intimidate the beast.
“Oh Granger, you’re playing a game aren’t you?” he asked,
leeringly. “You think you can dare copy me? A pureblood?” he asked, moving
closer to her. She did the same.
“You are entering a game where you can only be the loser,
Granger.” He moved closer, fumbling on his collar, while his fingers found the
first button of his polo. “I don’t think you can even last with this one…” he
murmured, all the while looking devilishly at her.
She muffled a small yelp threatening to overtake her. She
willed herself to stay in the pain, she wouldn’t do this. She couldn’t. But the
pain was too great, in a matter of seconds; she was also gripping her uniform,
on the first button, waiting for his next movements.
She was his eyes lit up in surprise, but in a flash, it was
gone. It was now replaced by determination, in trying to oust her in the
competition he created and in which she didn’t want to participate.
“You’re a tougher cookie than I thought you were.” he said.
“I’m surprised, Granger.” he said, his voice velvety in her ears. He slowly
teased the button, circling it with the tip of his fore finger before popping
it out.
She felt the heat rush to her cheeks. She hadn’t done as
much as kissing. Let alone remove her clothes for someone. This was getting out
of hand and fast. Helpless, she popped the first button like he did.
It continued on and on, until they reached the last button.
Her pink bra was already peeking out of her uniform. He hadn’t opened up his
polo completely, just the buttons. His heavy breaths were filling the room. She
didn’t want to think on what was happening to him, as much as what was happening
to her. She felt her panties starting to soak; it seemed to affect her as much
as it did to him.
“Fuck, Granger…” he cursed. “You are going to pay for this…”
He said his voice now thick with arousal. “And dearly.”
“Pay for what?” she asked, the first words she had spoken
after it happened. She was trying to beat him out of his own game.
Draco growled at her, angry at her teasing. He popped the
last button fast, and threw his polo down on the floor. She did the same, as
she watched his eyes devouring her bra encased breasts. She felt oddly exposed,
but she couldn’t deny herself the feelings that were coursing through her.
“Malfoy…” she begged. She just couldn’t do this, her pride
be damned. “No more, please.” she begged some more. “You have to understand, I
didn’t want this!” she exclaimed.
“Too late, Granger.” he taunted. “You’re almost half done…”
he said, eyeing her body.
“I-I-“she stuttered. “It was a mistake, I di-didn’t want….
Just please!” she exclaimed, she was in nearly tears.
“Like I said, too late…” with that, he grabbed her roughly,
and so did she. He laid his palms on her cheeks. Draco watched as she did the
same, and he kissed her. He kissed her wildly, with abandon, she could only
moan as she mimicked his tongue’s actions. He kissed her with all he had, until
he needed to come up with air.
Breathless, he pulled away from her. “You’re not kidding…” he
realized. All the while as he kissed her she was so pliant, she matched each
stroke of his tongue, each stroke on her hair.
“Please… Draco…” she called him by his first name. She just
didn’t know what she was doing anymore; it was the recklessness, the total
abandon of sense that made her throw caution of the window.
“You don’t want to do this?” he asked, his breathing still ragged.
He was so hard for her; he could almost feel his cock jump through his
trousers. But for the love of Merlin, he would never take her out of her
consent. All the while it had been teasing; he was willing to pushing her to
quit it. But now it was different, she was under a spell or a curse, he didn’t
know for sure.
She looked at him squarely, the arousal undeniable in her
eyes. “I-I don’t know how to do this…” she muttered, her cheeks flaring.
“You just have to trust me…” he said. He ran a finger down
on her cheek; he smiled as she did the same. He let out his magic wand
discreetly. “Immobulus.”
He could see the panic in her eyes. Sensing this, he tried
to calm her. “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you…” he whispered. “I can’t have
you copying me now, can I?” he teased.
He laid her down gently on the couch, admiring her body as
he did so. She looked up at him with nervousness, coupled with admiration and a
little hint of trust. He gave her a small smile as she looked up at him.
He reached on the strap of her bra, encasing her breasts
free. She felt the shiver of the cold, turning her nipples rock hard. He eyed
on them deliciously, wanting to suck the sweet buds into his mouth, but willing
himself to stop. He was going to do this properly, at least for her.
He lay down on top of her, his chest pushing against her
breasts. It felt delicious, and warm. He lifted her head a little, and gave her
a chaste kiss, whispering into her mouth variations of the spell so she could
move her tongue and her other extremities free from his control.
She softly sighed into his mouth, enjoying the sweet
friction his tongue provided. She could stay like this forever, her body being
worshipped and reverenced like that of a goddess.
He continued his assault on her mouth, his hand reaching
down to cup a breast. Her nipples were pebbled under his touch, and soft flesh
yielding on his calloused palms. He broke free from her mouth, and skimmed down
his lips on the length of her neck, tasting the small hint of sweat that lingered
there.
He pressed his burgeoning closer to her core, and with that
she couldn’t help but voice out a small moan. It felt so good on her dripping
pussy, aching to be filled by his cock. She wanted this; she could feel it in
her nether regions, the pain that comes along the pleasure.
“I’m going to remove your skirt now…” he announced, his
hands leaving her breasts and making a trail on her stomach down to her skirt.
She was slightly trembling now, both excited and quite afraid of what he might
do.
Just like before, he gave her a small smile. Slowly, he
stripped her off her skirt, the cloth now trailing on her calves and then
discarded on the floor. She felt bare to his gaze, but good enough to continue
on. She couldn’t bear to stop now.
Almost immediately, he seized her mouth again. This time he
was going harder, the strokes of his tongue going bolder, exploring the
crevices of her hot mouth. She moaned into the kiss, the feeling was
indescribable. He was better than anything she had ever tasted.
She wounded her hands into her hair, the fingers skimming
along it as he devoured her still. She was helpless on his every assault. He
broke off the kiss, and trailed kisses on her chest, avoiding her nipples. He
continued to kiss her on her tummy, her navel, until he reached the garter of
her panties.
He paused, making sure to catch her eye as she looked down
on him. He smirked at her, and without warning, seized the garter with his
teeth. He continued to look at her, while slipping her off with the last garment
with his teeth.
She bit herself, the feeling that were coursing through her
even stronger now. She felt her knees beginning to shake; there was a point to
reach, a nadir, a zenith. She didn’t know when she will arrive there, but she
knew that Draco would definitely lead her there.
With her panties now discarded, he opened her up to him. Her
pink pussy was bared for him to see, its folds glistening with her sweet
nectar. He felt himself grown even harder than before, this girl was something.
And he wanted to make it right for her, for once in his life.
“You’re so wet…” he whispered. “I want to taste your pussy…”
his voice gave her a shudder. She watched as he went down on her, careful to
hold her thighs apart. The first stroke of his tongue on her folds sent her
reeling into a pleasure point she has never known before. It was so good, his
tongue continued to assault her, playing on her love bud.
The feelings continued to course through her and she
couldn’t help but moan, loudly this time. She felt like she was on cloud nine,
like her pussy was about to pop. She was so close, so close to something. She
felt her wetness leaking from her core more profusely now.
“Ah….” she moaned. “S-so….gods!” she finished incoherently. She
was about to reach her peak when he suddenly stopped.
Her eyes were glazed with arousal. “Wh-….Draco?” she asked.
She didn’t want him to stop; she was nearly there, the paroxysm of her arousal
already within her reach.
“I’m not stopping, love…” he said. “I just need to fuck you
now, that’s all.” he finished smiling at her, all the while stripping himself
off his trousers.
She knew in her heart that she was ready for this. She was
ready for him.
She choked back a nervous sob when she saw his cock. She was
pleasantly surprised to see him hard for her, making the ache in her pussy
quell. It was all for her, his hard and ready cock, ready to piston her.
“Have to fuck you now, Granger…” he said, opening her up to
him even wider. He looked at her pussy, licking his lips. He met her eyes and
with that she laced her hands on his neck.
“Be sweet…” she whispered.
He didn’t answer, and instead rubbed the head of his cock
along her slit. Without warning, he thrust into her hot, wet core.
Hermione braced herself for the pain, as she held her
breath. She felt so full, her tight pussy trying to accommodate his raging
hard-on. He held still for a moment, as she wrapped her legs around him, and
signaled for him to continue.
She watched as his face scrunched up in concentration,
slipping out of her heat as he thrust back hard into her. Hermione couldn’t
help but let out a low animalistic moan, the feeling of Draco pushing her into
the depths of pleasure she had never imagined.
His thrusts grew faster and faster, until all she could do
was moan loudly, grabbing every part of him as she could. She let herself be
reeled in his pleasure, his balls slapping against the crack of her bum, adding
to her heightened pleasure.
“Fuck…” he cursed, while he moved inside of her. She was so
wet, so tight like a vise grip. She was perfect. He grabbed her breasts
roughly, earning a chorus of moans through her. All too soon, she was closing
up on him, his pussy gripping him so tight. He felt his sac draw up his body, as
he came in her with full force, the spurts of his hot seed milking her very
essence.
They laid there panting loudly, their bodies joined together
in a heap of exhaustion.
-----------------------------------------------------
“No! Don’t pick your nose!” Hermione exclaimed loudly. She
felt sated and calmed as they laid down on the bed, her lover playing dirty
tricks on her.
“Too late, love.” he teased. “I’m going to put my finger
in.” he held up a finger for her to see. “You have no choice but to follow me.”
“Draco! No!” she squealed loudly, but was holding up a
finger like him. He was enjoying this far too much, and she would get her
retribution she’d swear it.
“Fine.” He sulked. “But you’re mine.” He said possessively,
earning a shiver from her. “And I can still do this…” he whispered, seizing her
by the waist and kissing her fervently, as so did she.
-------------------------------------------------------
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