In Need of a Little Comfort | By : Monddame Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 45107 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchinse; I never have and I never will. Furthermore, I am not making any money whatsoever from this submission...even though it would be nice...but that's illegal...but still... |
This is my first HP fanfic submission. Please let me know what you think! (Be gentle with me, yeah?)
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Hermione threw herself onto the couch in the Heads’ common room with a groan, covering her eyes with her forearm. How could one day be so bad? Surely there was a quota for how many awful things were allowed to occur in the span of 24 hours. And it wasn’t even over yet!
She woke up uncharacteristically late and hadn’t had time to shower, which meant her hair was so out of control she fought it the entire day. She raced into the Great Hall only having enough time to grab a goblet of pumpkin juice, which she’d slopped all over herself in her haste, before everything disappeared. Already running late, she did her best to ‘Scourgify’ the stain away as she ran to class, but without the proper concentration, somehow she simply turned it into an ink stain instead.
She was late to Transfiguration and tripped over something as she rushed to her desk, sending books and papers flying, and received her first-ever detention from a very disappointed looking Professor McGonagall. She was so upset at giving her favorite professor reason to punish her that she was nearly in tears. As a result, she was so distracted that she simply could not get her slug to turn into a kitten for the life of her. She only succeeded in giving it a little fur on its head and making it ‘mew’. Even Ron at least gave his whiskers.
Lunch was no better. Harry tried to help her by ‘Scourigfy’ing the ink stain on her shirt himself, which she’d forgotten about, but she jerked away when his wand brushed against her breast and the incantation came out wrong. So instead of removing the ink, he removed the entire left side of her shirt exposing her lacy white bra. She wrapped her robes tightly around her half-exposed body and ran to her room to change her shirt, missing lunch all together.
Potions was a disaster. She made it to the dungeons in time, just. But her little peep show in the Great Hall hadn’t gone as unnoticed as she had hoped and she found herself the brunt of curious leering from most of the boys and malicious giggling from the girls. Professor Snape, of course, picked up on the insults the rest of the class were undoubtedly thinking and gave them a voice: a silky, delicious, dangerous voice that brought her close to tears once more.
“I trust, Miss Granger, that you will keep your…exhibitionism under control in my classroom. Potter does badly enough in this class without the distraction of further reason to ogle you.”
There was whispering and snickering, and Hermione did her best to keep her emotions in check. But as she stared at the surface of the table in front of her, she felt a couple of rogue tears silently glide down her cheek. Furiously brushing them away with the back of her hand, she got to work on the day’s assignment, one of the more difficult variations on a healing potion.
Someone had to have cursed her. She never did so badly in her life. But with the class continually casting sidelong glances her way, Harry nearly spilling his dragon bile on her in his misguided attempt at an apology, and Professor Snape swooping by every few minutes to verbally abuse the Trio, she simply couldn’t keep her focus on what she was doing. Not to mention she was so hungry she could eat a hippogriff. She was about to drop a sprig of wormwood into her cauldron when a hand shot out, gripping her wrist tightly. Jolted out of her half-present mindset, she looked up at the very livid owner of that hand. Professor Snape’s face was mere inches from her own, and his eyes burned with anger and frustration and something else she couldn’t place.
“I expected mistakes of this nature from Longbottom, Miss Granger, but certainly not from you. Has your ineptitude reached such astonishing heights that you cannot brew a simple healing draught without nearly blowing up the entire class?”
Distracted by his long fingers still wrapped around her wrist and baffled as to how she could have messed up so badly as to warrant such a response, she looked to the instructions on the board. Very clearly, it said not to add the wormwood until after adding the valerian root and the potion had turned a light shade of green. Her potion was very obviously a dull orange. She vaguely recalled something Snape had said at the beginning of the class about the calming properties of the root in counteracting the sometimes volatile addition of the wormwood. Realizing what she’d nearly done, tears sprang to her eyes for the third time that day.
“Yes, now you see. I will not have the distractions of a hormonal teenager endangering the entire class. Leave Miss Granger, and do not return to this classroom again until you are capable of following simple instructions.”
He vanished the contents of her cauldron, watching her with flashing eyes as she gathered her things and made her way to the door trying desperately not to cry again. She stepped out of the door, but Snape’s voice directly behind her startled her, and she stopped, turning abruptly only to have him crash into her. Mercifully, the door was only opened partially, blocking the view of the students in the classroom and keeping them from seeing the pretty blush that spread across Hermione’s face at being wrapped in her professor’s arms, which had shot out to steady her. He glared down at her for a moment before bringing his face down a few inches closer to hers and whispering to expect instructions for the detention she would be receiving to make up the work she was missing. Unable to speak, she simply nodded stumbling off down the corridor until his voice stopped her once more.
“Miss Granger, I believe your rooms are that way.” He pointed in the opposite direction of that in which she was headed.
Now flushing with embarrassment, she mumbled something like a thanks and desperately tried to control her pace until she rounded a corner and began sprinting toward the Heads’ common room. In her distraction, Hermione had been headed to Gryffindor Tower, a place she no longer lived.
Groaning once more, Hermione rolled on to her side and stared at the fire crackling merrily in the hearth. Thinking about the house elves that must have lit it made her stomach twist uncomfortably reminding her of how hungry she was. She was contemplating the advisedness of going down to the kitchen to get something to eat when her gaze rested on the shining wood box that she knew was full of chocolates sitting on the mantelpiece.
There was a standing rule in the Heads’ dormitory: do not touch Malfoy’s things. But when he’d placed the box in its prominent location, he hadn’t reinforced that directive as he had with many of his other possessions, but instead, with a very Malfoy-like smirk on his face, he’d told her she probably shouldn’t touch it and left it at that. She’d never seen him even open the box after that; and that had been nearly two months ago at the beginning of the term.
Hermione wasn’t really a big fan of chocolate. She preferred ice cream or cookies when she was craving something sweet. But chocolate was a comfort food, and she desperately needed some comfort. And she was so incredibly hungry, and the kitchen was such an awfully long way away. Plus, she really didn’t want to chance having another misfortune befall her on the way, and wanted to just curl up in her bed with her books and pretend this whole day had never happened. Surely he wouldn’t miss just two of those little chocolates? He never even opened the box. Hell, he never even touched the stupid thing as far as she could tell. And now that she thought about it, she was really overwhelmingly curious as to why she shouldn’t touch them. Hunger and misery drove her normally cool logic from her brain, and Gryffindor bravery, all consequences be damned, took over.
With a trembling hand, she lifted the lid of the box and stood on her tiptoes to see inside. She gasped. This was obviously a charmed box. Large quantities of chocolates filled the deceptively small box. She was certain now that he would never notice the absence of couple of them. Selecting a square wrapped in twinkling blue foil and a heart encased in gold she returned to her seat on the couch.
Popping the square in her mouth, she groaned again, this time in sheer delight at the absolutely ambrosial taste of the chocolate. It was like the relief of a cold glass of water after walking across a desert. Of course they were good; they were Malfoy’s. As she savored the heavenly confection she mused that maybe Malfoy had been insinuating that she wouldn’t be able to control herself after tasting the chocolates and would have made herself sick by gorging on them, which was a definite possibility given the enchantment on the box. That would be a logical reason why she shouldn’t touch them. Although she knew that had he meant that she should be at least a bit offended, but instead she started giggling. It really was a clever little warning, wasn’t it?
But in the end, he was wrong. She wasn’t even sure she wanted the second one she had pulled from the box now; the first was having such a lovely effect on her all on its own. She felt so relaxed and peaceful. She stretched languidly and ran a hand over her hair. Surprised, she grabbed a handful and examined it. Even her hair seemed calmer, smoother. Normally, her curiosity would have been peaked at such an effect, but she was so content that she shrugged it off, and simply enjoyed the sensation of running her fingers through the smooth curls, humming quietly to herself.
She contemplated the other chocolate in her hand. The gold wrapping was slightly iridescent and shimmered red and orange in the firelight. She thought about putting it back in the box rather than eating it, but the first one had been so good. With a lackadaisical shrug, she unwrapped the treat and placed it in her mouth. It was just as delicious as the first and she savored it as it slowly melted in her mouth. Unlike the first, however, there was no instantaneous effect. She still felt calm and pleasant, but nothing else. She wondering if all the chocolates had a calming draught infused in them.
Deciding, despite her carefree demeanor, that it really would be best not to make Malfoy suspect her unnecessarily, she tossed the pretty foil wrappers in the fire and watched them curl up into little black balls before vanishing from view. Heaving a contented sigh, Hermione stretched out on the couch and let the soft crackle of the flames lull her to sleep.
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She knew immediately when he entered the room. His presence itself seemed to wake her as he passed through the portrait into the common room. Her heartbeat steadily increased its pace and her breathing rate grew quick and shallow. At first she thought she might be having a panic attack, though she couldn’t imagine why. She lay there for a brief moment deciding whether or not she should try to feign sleep. But she couldn’t help herself. Sitting up she peered over the back of the couch to watch him as he walked into the room. Her breath caught in her throat. How had she never realized how incredibly attractive he was? Well, of course she’d realized he was good looking, she wasn’t blind. But this was something else. With the firelight flickering over his pale blonde hair and casting mysterious shadows across his face he was absolutely breathtaking. She was practically drooling at the sight of him, which must have shown on her face. He quirked his head to the side and gave her a puzzled look.
“Alright Granger?” Her breath hitched again at the liquid sex that was his voice.
“I’m fine.” Her voice came out extremely breathy. “Randy….I mean dandy.”
She flushed at her slip and his expression became even more confused. She couldn’t tear her eyes from him as he moved around to the other side of the couch to face her. He studied her for a minute and she had to sit on her hands to keep them from twitching. She knew he would not take kindly to her suddenly running them all over his body. What? Touching Malfoy? What was wrong with her?! Suddenly, he leaned forward, and she had to restrain herself from jumping up and closing the rest of the distance between their lips.
“What happened to your hair?”
She held her breath as he ran a silky curl through his fingers, his face mesmerized as if he couldn’t help himself from touching her tamed hair. She let out a shuddering breath and her eyes nervously flicked to the box on the mantel behind him. Her breath drew his attention and he caught her glance. Straightening up, he turned around and caught sight of the polished box. Turning back slowly toward her, he had a slightly apprehensive look on his face.
“Did you eat some of my chocolates?”
Her mouth went dry and all she could think about was kissing him until that look went away. She was so distracted by his lips that it wasn’t until he repeated himself that she even realized he’d asked her a question. She was afraid he would be mad, but she wasn’t a good liar, and her answer must have been evident on her face anyway, because he leaned forward once more to look directly in her eyes and continued without waiting.
“Which ones?” His grey eyes were boring holes into her, and she realized with no small amount of horror that simply those hot eyes on her were sending tingles between her legs.
“Wh-what?”
“Which ones did you eat? What did they look like?”
He braced one hand against the arm of the couch and the other ran through his hair in a nervous manner. She followed the path of his hand, biting back a groan as she imagined running her own hands through those silky strands. As he waited for an answer his arm fell heavily to his side, and the gesture sent a waft of his cologne directly into her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip ferociously to keep from launching herself at him. She gasped, her eyes flying open, when he gripped her upper arms and gave her a slight shake.
“Come on, Granger. Keep it together. Tell me what they looked like.” His eyes were blazing now and her whole body seemed to respond by lighting her on fire. She’d never wanted anything as bad as she wanted him in that moment.
“B-blue, it was blue, and s-square,” she managed to grind out amidst her hazy, lust-ridden thoughts. His expression relaxed a little.
“That explains the hair.” He stroked one of her curls again and she thought she might bite her lip off she was trying so hard to stay on the couch. “Was that it? How many did you eat?”
“T-two. The blue one, and…and…” For some inexplicable reason, she felt like she maybe shouldn’t tell him about the other one, but he was staring at her and she couldn’t think straight to dissemble with his eyes on her like that, and the truth popped out before she could stop it. “And a gold heart that shimmered like fire.”
For a moment he looked a little shocked, as if impressed by her audacity to eat such a confection, like she knew what would happen, which of course she didn’t. But it only lasted a flash before his face contorted into possibly the most deliciously evil smirk she had ever seen. She nearly cried out just at the sight of it.
“Did you now? Well, well, well, it seems that you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of trouble, little Gryffindor.” She shivered at the heat in his voice. “Didn’t realize they were enchanted chocolates, did you?” She shook her head, and he perched himself on the table in front of the couch, leaning in to her. “You would have been fine with just the blue one: Contentment Cream, one of my favorites actually. But the gold heart?” He shook his head and made a tsk-ing noise.
He got up and began heading to his bedroom. At the sudden distance between them she couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped from her throat. Though being near him was torture, being apart from him was agony. Tears filled her eyes yet again as he started walking away from her and little sob sprung out before she could stop it. The sound anchored him, and when he turned back to her, his face was conflicted. He just stared at her, sitting there in the firelight with tears sparkling in her eyes and hope starting to shine on her face that maybe he wasn’t going to just leave her there all alone. He heaved a great sigh and motioned to her to follow him.
“Come on then, Granger. I don’t know why I’m doing this. I’ll most likely regret it in the morning, but you probably won’t even remember it.”
She barely heard what he said she jumped off the couch so fast. She didn’t bother to analyze what she was feeling at the moment; that had gone out the window the second he had touched her. All she knew was that she wanted to make sure he didn’t regret it. He’d turned back to continue walking toward his bedroom, not counting on her excitement to be at fever pitch. She sprinted around him and threw herself into his arms, nearly knocking him off his feet. She wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck, pausing just long enough to give him a very naughty grin before her lips were on his. He stiffened in shock at her boldness, but quickly melted into her kiss as her hands slid into his silky hair.
“Do I have to make it to a bed Granger, or can I fuck you against the wall?” he mumbled against her lips.
“Don’t care, Draco.” She whispered in a rush to get back to his lips. She felt him start at her use of his first name, but was too intoxicated with his scent, his taste to make any sense of it.
He pressed her against the wall next to his door, his hands roaming her body as she writhed against him. But she was so overeager; she kept throwing him off balance. He let out a dark laugh at her responsiveness, and gripping her tightly, pushed away from the wall. Opening the door to his room with the randy girl curled around him proved to be difficult. Eventually they made it inside and he deliberately unwound her from his person. She whimpered a little and pouted at the loss of full body contact, but now that he was letting her touch him, her thoughts had cleared enough to pay attention to what he was doing. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks. Merlin’s tits, even his feet were beautiful! He shrugged off his robe and began loosening his tie when she interrupted; she couldn’t help it.
“Please…” she whispered, causing him to look at her with that puzzled look again. “Let me?”
When he just stood there, looking at her, she stepped forward and began removing his tie herself. His face swiftly returned to that delighted smirk he wore earlier and he watched with heated gaze as she undressed him. Despite her intense desire to have him undressed, it took her an inordinate amount of time to get his shirt unbuttoned. At practically each button she had to stop and run her hands along the new portion of skin that was exposed. Finally, she was sliding the white cotton over his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.
No words. The exceptionally bright witch’s brain was suddenly bereft of words to describe him. She ran her fingers across his chest and over his shoulders marveling at how smooth his skin was, how tight his muscles were. Overcome, she was compelled to lean forward and brush her lips over the spot where his heart beat in his chest. She felt his breath hitch as she held him close to her.
“Granger.” He growled, the heat in his voice once more kindling the burning fire racing through her veins.
The gentle moment passed, she practically ripped his pants off him, licking her lips unconsciously as she raked his body, clad only in his blue silk boxers, with her hungry eyes.
“Your turn.” His gaze burnt into her as she began undoing her own tie. “No, no, keep those naughty hands to yourself for now.”
He playfully slapped her hands away and began his slow, teasing, torturous removal of her clothes. Instead of simply pulling the skinny end of the tie from its knot, he spent the time untying the knot itself. Then, gripping both ends, he slid it over her shoulders to her waist, using it to pull her forward and kissing her hard. Her hands moved to grip his shoulders, but he knocked them away.
“Naughty girl, I told you to keep your hands to yourself. Do you need to be punished?” His eyes glinted with the promise in his voice and she shivered at once aroused by the idea and frightened by it.
“N-no, I’ll be good.”
She clutched her hands behind her back in demonstration and that dark laugh rumbled once more in his chest. He threw her tie around his neck and began unbuttoning her shirt, licking and kissing her neck and collarbones as he went. She whimpered in frustration at not being allowed to touch him; his hair was right there begging her fingers to run themselves through it! He slid his tongue down the valley between her breasts drawing a moan from her lips. When he’d finished with the buttons, he trailed his hands around her waist to her lower back, pulling her tight against him as he kissed her again. His long, delicate fingers traced their way up her torso, caressing her skin, brushing over her breasts, but not lingering there nearly long enough. They gripped her shoulders and slid down her arms, loosening her clutching grip, the only thing making her hands behave, in order to slide her shirt off. She held her arms stiffly at her sides, her hands fisted tightly to keep them there as his mouth brushed her chin and back onto her neck. He slid her bra straps off her shoulders and unclasped it, letting it fall from her body baring her breasts to him. His tongue flicked across one of her nipples, and she quickly gripped her hands behind her back once more, maintaining her effort to comply with his wishes. Oh, but it was hard. She didn’t want to have to distract herself from the sensation of his hot mouth teasing her nipple, but if she didn’t she knew her hands would betray her.
“Please.” She whispered in distress into his hair.
“Please what?” he returned, his words sending the most delicious vibrations through her breasts.
“Please let me touch you.” He straightened up, contemplating her.
“I’m afraid, kitten, that you will get rather carried away with yourself if I do that. But…” He smirked at her and her knees trembled, threatening to give out. “Maybe we can compromise.”
It was strange hearing him say that, even in her highly aroused state where she was hardly noticing anything but the proximity of his body. A body that was now pulling her tie from around his neck and tightly binding her hands together in front of her. He flashed her a proud smile as if he had just discovered the twelve uses of dragon blood, threw her arms around his neck, and returned to licking and sucking on her tits. It was a bit better. At least she could slide her hands up and down his neck and curl her fingers into the short hair at the base of his skull.
She felt the slide of fabric against her skin as he slid her skirt over her hips to join the rest of their clothes on the floor. The realization that she was standing in Draco Malfoy’s bedroom, the both of them in naught but their underwear washed over her, but the heady feeling it gave her was more about where his hand was headed than the fact that he was supposed to be her mortal enemy. His teeth bit down on the juncture between her neck and shoulder at the same moment he slid his slender fingers into her knickers making her scream at the overwhelming sensation.
Straightening up, he took her arms with him and she had to stand on her toes to keep her feet on the ground. Pulling his fingers out of her knickers, he showed them to her before sticking them in his mouth and sucking on them.
“You’re soaking wet kitten, and I’ve hardly touched you.” He smirked at her, and her knees went weak again, putting pressure on her wrists and the back of his neck as she sagged against him.
Pressed to him, she felt his laugh rumble through his chest as he gripped her waist and encouraged her to wrap her legs around him once more. Feeling his erection press against her center she resumed her feverish kissing and ground her pelvis into his making them both moan in pleasure. She continued rubbing against him as he walked them further into the room. Ducking out of her arms, he tossed her onto his bed.
She giggled and throwing her arms over her head, spread her legs and grinned wickedly at him. He took the invitation. Crawling onto the bed and up her body, he slanted his lips over hers and plundered her mouth with his tongue in a long heated kiss. Drawing back, he pulled her knickers off her legs and sat back on his heels, just looking at her. A haunted look stole into his expressive grey eyes and he reached out to stroke her pussy with his lithe fingers.
“I’ve dreamt about this,” he whispered. Suddenly, being fucked into the mattress didn’t seem nearly as important, despite the vestiges of the chocolate running through her system.
“What?” She whispered back with wide eyes. His reply was practically inaudible.
“About you.” He took a deep breath and shook himself, the look in his eye resuming its former heat. “Nothing, it’s not important.”
She knew it was; her addled brain couldn’t quite figure it out, but she did know that it was important. But she couldn’t hold on to the thought as he began stroking her in earnest pulling moans and whimpers from her lips.
He continued fingering her as he settled between her legs resuming his former attentions to her breasts. He was driving her crazy with his strong fingers. But as good as it felt, it wasn’t what she wanted.
So, gripping his hips with her thighs, she bucked hard, knocking him onto his back beside her and crawled on top of him. She smiled triumphantly and settled on his thighs. It was difficult with her hands tied together, but with his help she freed his impressive erection from his boxers and slid them down his muscled legs, eliminating the last bit of clothing between them. She wrapped her fingers around his stiff cock and stroked him a few times before positioning herself above him. She slid his shaft along her pussy coating him in the abundant wetness there. Then, locking her fiery stare with his, she sank down onto his thick member, a satisfied sigh exiting her lips. Bracing herself with her palm on his chest, she rocked her hips into his, grinding against him with absolute pleasure. He allowed her to shift on top of him for few moments, before gripping her hips and reversing their position once more.
Once he was on top of her again, he thrust into her hard drawing another scream from her. As he was sliding himself in and out of her tight heat, she worked her hands against the slippery constraints holding her hands captive. With a bit of effort she was able to extract her wrists from the silky tie and immediately knotted them into the lustrous blonde hair above her, pulling its owner to her lips to moan her pleasure into his mouth.
He was filling her, touching all the right places, inside and out, driving her to complete and utter bliss. She felt that exciting building sensation and she moaned his named as she reached for it. His pace increased and he let out a growl, exciting her further.
“Say it again.” She couldn’t remember, couldn’t concentrate enough to know what he was talking about. “Say my name. Say it.”
“Draco! Oh gods, don’t stop, Draco. Don’t stop.” She could hardly speak she was panting so hard.
He growled in satisfaction and dove into her neck, biting and sucking at her delicate flesh, making his mark on her. His hand slid between them and circled her clit pushing her further toward that precipice. He kissed her, whispering against her lips as he stoked the fire between her legs even higher.
“Come for me, Hermione. Come on.” He kissed her gently. “Let me make you come.”
At his unexpected, sweet words she felt her pussy clamp down on his cock, fluttering against him, making her toes curl and her vision black as she keened in satisfaction, tremors radiating throughout her. As she began to come down from her high, she wrapped her legs and arms around him tightly to keep him close. It only took a few more thrusts before she felt him spray his seed into her, setting off little shockwaves in her body.
He collapsed on top of her, his weight a comforting assurance of his presence as she drifted slowly toward a contented slumber. She kissed his hair, his temple, his cheek, wherever her lips would reach wanting to share her fulfillment with him. His breathing gradually evened out and she snuggled underneath him ready to fall asleep.
She was abruptly jarred from her dreamy repose when he shifted off her and made to roll off the bed to retrieve his boxers. The agonized fear she’d felt when he walked away earlier gripped her once again, and she clung to him, once more kissing every inch of skin within her reach.
“Don’t go. Please, don’t. Don’t leave me.” She whispered into his shoulder.
He turned toward her, the shock clearly painted across his gorgeous face. He gave her that puzzled look once more and the fear abated slightly.
“Are you sure? The effects should have worn off after we…” He looked at her intently, scanning her face earnestly. Her heart began singing at his hesitation.
“I’m sure. Stay with me.” She tugged him back onto the bed, enfolding him in her arms and throwing a leg over his hips, desperate to keep him as close to her as possible. “Besides, we’re in your room anyway; where else would you go?”
“I thought…” his confusion was still evident, “…the couch…”
“No.”
She pressed her lips to his, sighing into them when his arm draped over her, his hand rubbing the skin on her back.
Sometime during the third time he made love to her, Hermione realized that the effects of the charmed chocolate had worn away long before. Lying with him draped over half her body, his head pillowed on her chest and one arm slung across her waist as he slept, she stroked his beautiful hair and thought to herself that her relationship with Draco Malfoy had just gotten a lot more complicated.
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A/N: This was conceived as a one-shot; however, I suppose I would be amenable to persuasion on that front. As this is my first submitted foray into the enthralling HP fanfic realm, I am acutely interested in hearing opinions on this story to guide me in future endeavors (there are two such endeavors sitting on my desktop at this very moment). Thanks for reading!
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