Grand Opening | By : flamingmoth Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 9127 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or settings in Harry Potter. I make no money from this story. |
Diagon Alley was bursting with people – ladies, mostly – on that sunny Saturday afternoon, and Draco Malfoy had no idea why. At first he thought perhaps there was a big sale on summer robes or that the latest Dame Endora romance novel had hit Flourish and Blotts. Flocks of witches hurried past him, chattering and casting furtive looks around, but none of them seemed to be coming back bearing parcels of books or carrying the distinctive purple shopping bags from Madame Malkin’s. He turned a corner and idly followed the throng, ignored by young and old women alike (which was unusual, as Draco was quite good-looking), then stopped dead in his tracks as he beheld the actual source of all the excitement.
A garish pink awning that read ERATO’S EROTIC EMPORIUM stuck out from the front of a building that looked for all the world like a gigantic wedding cake. Two gilded doors were propped wide open and a steady stream of witches filed inside. Pink gauzy curtains hung inside the windows of what looked to be some sort of shop. As he neared, Draco could see that behind the glass stood elegant charmed mannequins shifting and posing in eye-popping lingerie that made his collar feel suddenly tighter as he imagined what the scanty outfits would look like on actual women. The gaggles of witches were pointing to various items that were on display in the windows alongside the mannequins.
His curiosity piqued, Draco sidled past the queue and peered into the window only to be confronted with THE ARABIAN PRINCE – an eleven-inch long glass object which was, according to the label, decorated in 14k gold etched Moorish swirls and charmed to stay warm no matter where it was kept. His eyes bulged as he took in the sight of another item which was shaped like a smashed-in scone and was made of some pink jelly-like material. It lay in the window gently vibrating. Next was a magazine called Hogsmeade Hunks whose cover bore a very handsome dark-haired wizard lounging against some satin cushions with his robe wide open save for a bit of fabric covering his impressively bulging groin. He preened in a smug and rather irritating way, but the witches looking in the window alongside Draco seemed quite taken with the well-favored cover model.
Suddenly, things clicked in Draco’s brain. He took some rapid steps back from the window, clearing his throat and looking round to see if anybody had seen him. Fortunately the crowd was intent on getting inside and there were no wizards in sight, all males within a block’s radius having fled the scene already at the sight of so many determined women. He now understood why. Apparently the new establishment was a sex shop catering more or less exclusively to witches.
Draco knew that there were two or three similar establishments in Knockturn Alley which sold Wizarding porn and objects of a prurient nature. He, Crabbe and Goyle had first snuck into Kramer & Sprenger’s when they were thirteen and spent a good half hour avidly peering at the pages of such publications as Sluts on Broomsticks and Debbie Does Dunwich until they were discovered and chased out by the squint-eyed manager. Since then Draco had occasionally patronized such shops, although he mostly preferred to owl-order his “inspirational material,” as his mate Blaise jokingly called it, in plain brown wrappers.
Surveying the glittery pinkness of the shop before him, Draco wanted to laugh. The idea of a sex emporium for witches seemed slightly silly. Places like Kramer & Sprenger’s were almost never frequented by females for some reason. Apparently most women believed they were too respectable to be seen going into such places. The notion that they would be leered at (or worse) by the clientele and possibly the staff as well never crossed Draco’s mind. He had to admit, however, that there seemed to be few options for witches interested in smut. Draco tried and failed to picture the women he knew getting excited over Capaciously Cauldroned Cuties or Dr. Krampus’s Suck-Steady Sex Sleeves. And all the porn with handsome men in it seemed to be aimed at wizards who flew for the other team, so to speak.
Well, now Britain’s randy witches were no longer forced to order erotic material from Madame Genevieve’s Maison d’Amour in Paris, which was expensive and frustrating if you couldn’t read French…or so he’d once overheard Pansy telling her friends at school. And if the size of this crowd was anything to go by, the common belief that witches weren’t half as interested in sex as wizards was utterly false. Draco smirked as a pair of older women came out of the shop, nervously clutching discreet pink shopping bags and flushing when they met his calm gaze before hurrying off towards the main street. He put his hands in his coat pockets and leaned against the side of the building opposite, wondering if he’d spot anybody he knew.
Soon he was delighted to see a familiar brown, curly head emerge, accompanied by a sleek head of red hair. Draco’s eyes lit up but he concealed his glee and, smirking even more broadly, pushed off the side of the building and followed the two witches at a discreet distance as they ambled down the street. Each of them bore pink shopping bags, he noticed, and while the contents of the redheaded witch’s bag were of no interest whatsoever to Draco (as such knowledge ran the risk of revealing far more about Potter’s sex life than he had any interest in knowing), he was consumed with curiosity about the brunette witch’s purchases.
In the three years since the end of the war, Hermione Granger had grown into rather a fetching woman. Gone were the baggy robes and wild, bushy mane of her Hogwarts days. Instead, Granger now wore fashionable attire and tamed her hair into an elegant French twist, or on her more casual days, shiny curls that bounced when she walked. Whenever Draco had the good fortune to encounter her at Gringott’s, where Granger had secured a very cushy job for herself, he was struck by how attractive she’d gotten. It no longer mattered to Draco that she was Muggle-born and he had always had a weakness for short, curvy brunettes – the less his potential partners looked like his mum, the better. So after seeing Granger a few times at the bank and deciding he liked what he saw, he had asked her out.
And…he’d been soundly rejected, much to his surprise and chagrin. Draco sighed, watching the way Granger’s skirt hugged her oh-so-clutchable arse, and wondered for the hundredth time what it would take to get her to succumb to his charms. Granger was smart, gorgeous, famous, accomplished, eligible and on her way to a top position at the Wizarding bank -- all of which made her excellent girlfriend material in Draco’s opinion, as he had had his fill of brainless witches whose sole ambition was to change their surnames to “Malfoy.” However, she would have nothing to do with him.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” was Granger’s reaction when Draco had oozed into her office at Gringott’s and asked her to dinner. Her reaction the next time he’d asked? “Get out, Malfoy!” Every time he’d seen her after that it was more sharp words, annoyed glares, perhaps a threatened hex or two. Other men might have given up or become frustrated, but Draco had never been so turned on in his life. There was something there, when it came down to it. There always had been, though until recently he’d been loath to ever admit it or acknowledge it. But now they were adults, Hogwarts rivalries long past, and Draco was eager to seize the day. Surely it was only a matter of time before Granger gave in and he’d finally have the delicious former Gryffindor Princess in his bed. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself.
He watched as the two witches he was tailing suddenly stopped and conferred, looking in their bags and searching their purses. ”Damn,” he heard Granger say as he swiftly ducked behind an ornamental topiary in front of a nearby Italian restaurant. “I must have left it in the shop. I’ll have to run back and get it.”
“All right, ‘Mione. Will Harry and I see you at dinner next week?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it!” The two witches hugged. Draco’s mind filled with a vision of them doing almost the same thing, except naked and on his silk-sheeted bed. He shook his head clear of the pleasant but distracting thought and noted Hermione heading back to the sex shop, looking all business, as Ginny Potter went in the opposite direction toward the Apparition point outside the owl post.
Grinning broadly, Draco came out from behind the potted topiary and shamelessly followed Hermione all the way back down the street, getting closer and closer as she neared Erato’s. He was just about to reach out and touch her shoulder when Granger said calmly, without turning around, “Enjoying yourself, Malfoy?”
Draco quickly recovered from his surprise and strode forward, easily catching up to her. “Hello, Granger. Had quite a nice view from back there.” He leered at her.
“From behind the bushes on the patio at Aradia’s?” Hermione eyed him sideways. “Are you stalking me on weekends now? Not satisfied with turning up at my workplace every other day?”
“As I am a man of business, I have cause to be at Gringott’s quite frequently,” he replied icily, looking down his nose at her.
“Is that what the new term is for ‘rich ponce with nothing better to do but count his Galleons’? I suppose even you must get tired of looking in your mirror all day long.”
He chuckled. “You’re as charming as ever, Granger. So what brings you out to Diagon Alley on this fine day?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was shopping with Ginny.” She held her head up defiantly. Draco smirked and moved in for the kill.
“Would that happened to have taken place down at the new establishment there?” he inquired. Hermione did not answer but her pace increased noticeably, as if she was trying to leave him behind. It was no use, as Draco’s long stride easily matched hers. “As you’ve got one of their carriers, I see that my guess is correct.”
“So what if it did?” She was definitely blushing. “What of it?”
He remained silent for a moment, letting her fume. Hermione probably expected him to make some crass comment about her current lack of a boyfriend or something about her being completely asexual. Granger, he had noticed, did not appear to be aware of how attractive she really was, and Draco suspected that somewhere deep inside she still felt like the awkward bookworm he’d known at Hogwarts. He was very interested in proving her wrong.
Draco leaned close and she unconsciously slowed as he breathed into her ear, “Doesn’t matter if you tell me what’s in there or not. I’ve got a good imagination, Granger.” They had reached the wedding-cake building and he shot a meaningful look at the nearest window, in which a mannequin posed in a few scraps of satin held together with what seemed to be ribbons. He moved away just as she turned her head to stare at him with an expression that tried very hard to be outraged and almost made it. Almost, but not quite.
“You. Are. A. Pig.” Hermione ground out between clenched teeth. She took a deep breath. “I’ve left my wallet and need to retrieve it.” Draco nodded. Granger seemed to consider, then said with every indication of reluctance, “If you want to wait, I suppose we could go have lunch afterward.”
“I suppose we could,” Draco drawled, as if he didn’t give a damn. He wanted to laugh at the look on her face, but stilled her inevitable outburst by grasping her hands and saying with a laugh, “No, that’d be great. Have you reconsidered going out with me, then?”
Hermione gave him an exasperated look but didn’t immediately remove her hands from his, which he took as a good sign. “It’s just lunch, Malfoy.” She finally let go, turned and made her way through the milling witches on the sidewalk and into the shop. Draco grinned evilly. She hadn’t even noticed that when he’d taken her hands, he’d also relieved her of her shopping bag. Score one for Slytherin cunning.
He hurriedly retreated to the side of the hair salon where he’d leaned against the wall earlier and peered with glee into Granger’s bag. There did seem to be a few garments on the bottom – he thought he could see something lacy – along with what looked to be a bottle of massage oil. Draco frowned; had she gotten these for the benefit of some other wizard? The very idea elicited a flash of jealous rage. There were a couple of magazines, including the one with the dark-haired wizard who by now looked ready to burst with smugness. Draco flipped the magazine over and smacked it with unnecessary force back among the others. A small pink box rested in one corner of the bag. It was unmarked. His eyebrows went up and his hand stole towards the little box. Curious, he slid his thumbnail to break the seal and nudged the lid open.
Inside lay one of the pink jelly things from the window. He took it out of the box. It wasn’t vibrating but when he pressed a raised area in the center it began to hum quietly but rather forcefully. His grin grew even more wicked. Draco was a man of the world; he knew full well what this was, and the mental image of Granger lying naked on a bed and pressing this thing up against herself while she arched her breasts toward the ceiling made his pants uncomfortably tight and his mouth go dry. Merlin. He was going to have to win her or die trying!
Unfortunately, death looked far more likely as the object of his desires walked up, unseen by him. “They had it, thank God, so if you’d like we can go to – Malfoy! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” Hermione shrieked, seeing him standing there with her brand-new vibrator in his hand.
“Shit!” Draco fumbled the pink, buzzy thing; it fell to the ground and bounced once, then twice across the narrow street, finally disappearing among the robes of the witches coming out of Erato’s. Without thinking, Draco dropped Hermione’s shopping bag and hurried after it. He shouldered his way through the crowd, scanning the ground, and before he was aware of where he was, he had passed between the golden doors into a pink, glowing room packed with women and racks of lingerie and smelling of rose petals.
He spotted the vibrator and dove to retrieve it. When he stood up, there was a sudden FLASH and a shower of golden confetti fell out of nowhere. Two perky witches in pink lab coats with tags reading LOVE EXPERT swiftly accosted him, seizing each of Draco’s arms and shouting “We have a winner!” One of them had a camera hanging around her neck with which she’d just taken their picture. Granger was right behind him, frozen in shock and horror, her mouth hanging open.
“What the…” Draco was hustled over to a counter; he was barely aware of the staring, snickering crowd of witches in the shop and Hermione being dragged after him by yet another pink-coated witch. “What’s going on?”
“You, sir, are our one hundredth customer today!” proclaimed one of the witches with a toothy smile. ”Sheila, show him what he and his lucky lady have won!”
The witch behind him dropped Hermione’s arm and hurried around the counter, producing a large pink shopping bag, which she held up for all to see. “We have here for you a fifty Galleon prize package, consisting of one bottle of Erato’s Erotomizer self-heating lubricant, one Captain Ahab’s Whale of a Time deluxe size dildo, one set of Bitchiness Be Gone Pleasure Balls, one Oh La La French maid outfit, size medium – “
“Too bad he’s a large,” Hermione interjected dryly. She smoothly reached around Draco and took the bag from the gesturing witch, sliding her other arm around his waist. The contact galvanized him out of his embarrassment and shock, particularly because as she turned them around, he could feel the side of her soft breast pressed against him. “Come, my dear, we’d better get home before you pass out from all this excitement.” Titters erupted around them. Certain that he was blushing so hard one could fry eggs on his face, Draco let Hermione lead him amongst the staring, giggling witches, out of Erato’s and into the street.
Once they were safely far away, Hermione let go of his waist and savagely punched him on the upper arm. “Ow! What was that for?” Draco griped, rubbing his bicep.
“You absolute…oh, I should hex you right now! I thought I was going to die of embarrassment back there!” Hermione was almost as red as he was.
“What are you on about? I’m the one who got caught by three ‘love experts’ and photographed in a witches’ sex shop! I’ve never seen so much pink in my life! It looked like the inside of an esophagus in there! And what the fuck am I going to do with a gigantic white dildo?” Draco ranted, waving one hand as he clutched his sack of prizes in the other. “If they run any adverts with my picture in them, I’ll never be able to show my face in public again!”
“You deserve it! You were playing with my sex toy right there in the bloody street! What in Circe’s name were you doing going through my things, anyway?” she shouted.
“What the hell are you doing buying lingerie to wear for some other bloody wizard!?” Draco yelled before he could stop himself.
“I wasn’t, you moron! It was for y– “ Hermione fell silent and turned pale, licking her lips nervously. Draco blinked as comprehension dawned. He slowly lowered his arms. They stared at each other for a long moment, ignoring the amused looks of passers-by and the rumble and stench of a wagon full of dragon dung headed for the rare plants nursery at the end of the block.
“Malfoy – “
Without a word, Draco stepped forward, cupped her face in his hand and kissed her. She leaned into him and the slow burn that had started the minute he’d seen her walking down the street that day roared to flames. Her small moan into his mouth drove the last bit of sense from him.
“Come home with me,” he whispered urgently when they finally broke the kiss. His hand caressed the smooth skin of her cheek and traced the line of her delicate jaw.
Hermione only nodded, her eyes huge. Draco drew a deep breath and took her hand, and they hurried down the street to the Apparition point. The minute they appeared in the living room of his flat, both shopping carriers and Hermione’s purse hit the floor, and they launched themselves at each other.
“Granger, oh Granger,” Draco moaned in between hungry kisses, “why do you insist on making everything so difficult?” His hands buried themselves in her luxuriant hair, tilting her head back so he had access to her smooth throat and the lovely hollow at its base. She shivered as his lips moved further and further down.
“Why do you have to be such a self-satisfied – oh!” He had just nipped at her earlobe. Her hands stole inside his coat and pushed it off his shoulders, and he had to let go of her so that it could drop to the floor. Draco pushed her coat off as well.Then he slid his hands around her waist and pulled her down with him onto the leather sofa that stood in the middle of the room.
“Merlin, I want you,” he murmured as she straddled his lap and ground down against the considerable bulge under his robes. He started unfastening her blouse, letting his tongue delve down into the valley between her breasts, groaning as he at last discovered how soft her skin was. “Finally…”
“I really did buy those things for you,” Hermione breathed. He paused and gazed up at her. She wore a naughty look that went straight to his cock.
“When were you planning on using it? You’d already turned me down twice,” Draco panted, pulling off her blouse and tossing it to the floor. Her bra soon followed and he stared at her tits before leaning forward and taking a puckered nipple in his mouth. She moaned loudly and he decided he couldn’t wait for her answer, so as his hands came up to knead and fondle both her breasts, he closed her mouth with another long, hungry kiss.
The rest of their clothes came off rapidly. Hermione rolled him onto his back and slid down between his legs, her eyes never leaving his as she encircled the base of his straining cock with her slim hand, giving it a couple of teasing strokes before closing her lips over him and taking almost all of his shaft in her mouth. Draco’s arse practically shot up off the sofa as she sucked, her tongue swirling around the head until he was gasping and making incoherent sounds. He felt his balls begin to tighten and managed to reach down and move her head away from his cock, pulling her up to lie alongside him. He wanted to spill inside her, to make her scream his name as he fucked her, because he was better looking than any Playwitch centerfold and much more satisfying than a vibrating bit of pink jelly, damn it!
Draco reached down and plunged his fingers into the damp heat between her thighs. “Granger, you’re so wet,” he breathed, his thumb stroking her hardened clit while he pressed two fingers into her channel.
She writhed at his touch, but there was a sparkle of mischief in her eyes nonetheless. “It’s all for you, Malfoy,” Hermione whispered. “So come and get it.”
Suddenly she had moved off him, standing up and sauntering toward his bedroom door, which stood open. Draco stared after her for a moment, then in a flash he leaped off the sofa and closed the distance between them in a few strides. Seizing Hermione, he turned her and pushed her up against the wall just inside his bedroom.
His hands grasped her hips and lifted; her legs came up around his waist. She threw her arms around him and held on tightly while Draco lined himself up with her sodden heat and plunged inside her with a growl, which was echoed by her own squeal as he filled her.
“You…are…the…most…infuriating…witch…alive!” he panted, thrusting into her hard to emphasize every word.
“And you’re…ungh…so fucking…annoying!” Hermione retorted, her thighs squeezing him tightly as she hung on for dear life.
“You don’t seem – oh, God! – annoyed…now!” Draco bit out, his head falling back as he drove deeper and deeper into her delicious body.
Her only reply was a long, guttural moan, and the sound made Draco lose control entirely. He fucked her hard, drawing more and louder cries from Hermione until at last she screamed “Draco! Oh yes, Draco!” and spasmed wildly around his cock, which caused him to cry out raggedly as he pounded into her one last time and finally erupted inside her. His legs gave out and they slid to the floor in a quivering heap.
Merlin’s dimpled arse! It had been every bit as good as Draco had always imagined it would be. Slowly he lifted his head and gazed down at Hermione’s flushed, sweaty face, the sound of their heavy breathing the only thing disrupting the stillness. He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Had enough of my annoying behavior yet?” he asked, his hands stroking her smooth, somewhat damp back.
She smiled. “I must be a glutton for punishment,” Hermione replied, drawing him closer for a kiss, “because I don’t think I’ve had quite enough...”
* * * * *
Later, as they lay in Draco’s bed after another round of passionate sex, Hermione asked speculatively, “What else is in that bag of yours, I wonder?”
“We left before she could finish telling us and everyone else in the store what it contains. But I distinctly remember something about a French maid costume.” He rolled over onto his side and propped his head on his arm, smirking at her. “Want to try it on for me? I don’t think it’s in my size.”
“Maybe.” The corners of her mouth turned up. She moved closer to him and he rested his other hand possessively on her hip. Hermione opened her mouth to speak but closed it again at the look on Draco’s face.
He hesitated, then said, “Do you…that is, are you interested in this being, well, more than just about getting off with each other?”
She lowered her eyelashes, considering. He tensed. Finally she said, “I might be.” Her lips may have formed the words, but her dark eyes definitely said yes. He felt himself relax. “Are you?”
“I might be.” He drew her close and pressed his body against her. His lips ghosted over hers. “After all, who else is going to help test out mighty Captain Ahab? And why should you be left with only that little pink blob for company?”
“Heh. About that ‘pink blob’…”
“Yes?” He lifted his eyebrows.
“It’s for you too.” Hermione looked positively wicked. He rather thought it suited her, but then her words sank in completely.
“What? No.” He rolled his eyes. “I know what that’s for. Unless you plan to use it in front of me, which by the way won’t be for long because I’ll – “
But Hermione had wriggled free and jumped out of bed. He sat up, watching as she left the room. Rustling sounds came from the living room, and Draco was about to get up and go see what she was about when Hermione returned with the small pink box in her hand, looking like a cat who’d gotten the canary.
“Lie back,” she said, and bemused, Draco obeyed. She whipped the sheet up and off his body with a flourish, and he shook his head as she removed the pink vibrator from the box, cradling it in her palm, and pressed the button to make it start buzzing. With a smirk that was almost a perfect copy of his own, Hermione lowered her mouth to his cock and pressed the vibrator a bit lower down at the same time.
“Look Granger, I don’t know what you think – OH MY FUCKING GOD!”
It didn’t take very long for Draco to cultivate a new appreciation for witches’ sex shops.
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