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Six of One, Half A Dozen Of Another	By : flamingmoth Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 6188 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 1-Caught
- 2-Payback
- 1
- 2
Draco Malfoy returned to his dorm from Quidditch practice, feeling sweaty, sore and rather pleased with himself. He’d worked his team like rented house-elves for weeks, and he felt certain that they would flatten the Ravenclaw team into so many blue and bronze smudges on the pitch. As he made his way through the Head Students’ common room, however, a frown marred his perfect features. Hermione’s book bag was missing from its place on the floor at the end of her desk. That meant only one thing, since he knew that she wasn’t with Potter, Weasley and Weasley's little sister -- the Gryffindor team had been practicing down at the other end of the pitch that same evening.

Grand. She’s off tutoring some prat who couldn’t be bothered to study all term. Exams were just around the corner, and apparently, panic had begun to set in among those who had skived off one too many times already. Shaking his head, he climbed the stairs to his room, which sat on the other side of their shared bathroom. Draco paused outside Hermione's door. It was slightly ajar, and as he peered inside, it swung open a few inches more. No, Hermione was definitely not there; the room was empty, dark and silent. He sighed and continued on to the hot shower that awaited him.

His own homework was done for the weekend, and it being Friday night, Draco had been looking forward to doing something fun with Hermione, whom he’d been seeing -- er, shagging, he reminded himself -- for a few weeks now, and for whom he’d rapidly developed some unsettling feelings, which he tried to hide from everyone. Draco rather imagined that he was doing a good job of it, but he was sadly mistaken. At that very moment, Michael Corner was sitting in the library with Hermione, thinking to himself how unfortunate it was that the notably prickly and vindictive Head Boy had already staked his claim on the pretty and intelligent Head Girl. It was obvious to everyone else at Hogwarts because of Pansy Parkinson’s shrill whinging over it, which one would have to be deaf not to hear, and because Malfoy glared at any male that wasn’t a teacher (or Potter and Weasley, just barely) who came anywhere near Hermione.

But Draco did not know any of this, nor did he suspect that Hermione was just as impatient to return to their common room, for reasons of her own. It didn't occur to him to go looking for her in the library. He had learned never to come between Granger and her studies. The one time he’d swiped a book from her desk, as she was busily writing a Transfiguration essay, she’d nearly hexed his balls off. And that was afterthey had started sleeping together.

After his shower, he felt restless. Draco came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, wondering how much longer Hermione was going to be. He might as well occupy himself until she returned; there was a new copy of Quidditch Weekly he hadn’t yet read. He started to pull on a shirt, but suddenly the image of the Head Girl's open, unlocked, and unwarded bedroom door crossed his mind. He’d been in her room before, of course, but never without Hermione there.

A smirk crossed Draco's face. How could he resist this opportunity to acquaint himself more intimately with the object of his desires, possibly astounding her later with his intimate knowledge of her life, as well as the contents of her knickers drawer? He glanced down at his own somewhat damp, half-naked form. If Hermione came in unexpectedly, he could always whip off the towel, throw himself on her bed, and pretend that he’d been waiting there all along to surprise her when she got back. Dropping his shirt, Draco went out of his own room to Hermione’s open door and slowly pushed it open.

“Lumos stasis,” he said, and the lamps flickered on. Hermione’s room was decorated in her House colors of red and gold, just as his own bedroom was done up in Slytherin green and silver. Hers was far tidier than Draco’s, and although the furnishings in it were exactly the same as the ones in his bedroom – bed, bedside table, full-length mirror, chair, chest of drawers – somehow, hers seemed far more girlish. It was probably due to the lingering scent of her perfume, which brought a small, unconscious smile to Draco’s face. Then his eyes fell on her dresser, upon which sat a number of potentially interesting objects. He went to stand in front of it.

She had a small chest which turned out to contain jewelry -- nothing terribly expensive and certainly not as extensive as, say, Pansy’s rather vulgar collection -- but there was a pearl necklace that Draco could tell was the real thing, as well as a small number of gold and silver earrings, a charm bracelet he’d occasionally seen her wear, and a timepiece that was not running as it ought to. Muggle, he thought with a curl of his lip. He guessed that the watch’s inner workings had gone haywire when it was brought into Hogwarts. He picked it up, turning it over with distaste and wondering why Granger had bothered to bring such a thing, until he saw that it was engraved on the back:

HAPPY 13th BIRTHDAY

LOVE, MUM AND DAD

The date below the inscription was from a few years before. He supposed he couldn’t fault her for not wanting to get rid of the otherwise useless watch. He set it back down and regarded the contents of the jewelry box with speculation. Hmm. Perhaps he’d have to see about adding to her modest collection at Christmas -- a nice locket, perhaps, or another bracelet. He didn't stop to consider that buying a Christmas gift for a girl whom he was merely shagging was not something he normally did.

Shutting the box, Draco’s eyes swept over the few photographs that stood beside it. There was one of Granger with her obnoxious best friends, the three of them with arms round each other’s necks. There were a couple more of Potter and Weasley, and one of Hermione, Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley looking, he had to admit, rather ravishing in their gowns for last year's Spring Ball. There were also a couple of Muggle photos of Hermione’s family, which he stared at curiously, more because it was extremely odd to see non-moving photographs than because her relatives looked so different from ordinary folk. Like Draco, Granger had no siblings. Good. Potter and Weasley were bad enough; Draco couldn’t imagine having to deal with any brothers of Hermione as well.

On to the good stuff. He slid open the top drawer of Hermione’s dresser to reveal an array of socks, most of which were white, carefully rolled up in pairs. Typical. There appeared to be nothing else there. Shutting that drawer, Draco opened the next one down. Ah ha! The drawer was full of knickers and bras.

He grinned wickedly to himself while examining Hermione’s underthings. Some of them were plain cotton underpants in various colors, but some were far more interesting. He picked up a pair of lacy lavender knickers that he thought he remembered her wearing once before. There was a telltale small tear in the side seam. He’d pulled them off her one night before throwing them onto the bedroom floor, where they were instantly forgotten. The memory of what they’d done after that made his cock twitch and start to harden. On impulse, Draco tucked the knickers into his towel with the idea of keeping them as a memento. He then carefully pushed aside a pile of bras to reveal a bound book.

Granger’s secret diary! Draco could hardly contain his glee. He reached eagerly for the book, intending to slip it out of the drawer without disturbing the things above it too much. His fingertips had just brushed the cover when there was a flash and a sound like rock salt being scattered across a glass table. Instantly, the cover of the book changed from plain navy blue to a bright, glittery bubblegum pink, with the word CAUGHT written across the front.

Draco groaned. Granger must have charmed her diary to let her know if anybody tried to read it without her permission -- and he didn’t know the counter-charm. Well, he’d have to think of something to tell her when the inevitable occurred and she confronted him about it. Until then… Draco tried to rearrange all the knickers to look as if the drawer was undisturbed, closed it, and opened the third drawer.

There were some folded jumpers -- one from her school uniform, and several casual ones which also gave off a faint whiff of Hermione’s perfume. Beneath these was something that, at first, Draco thought was a skirt, but as he shifted a stack of jumpers aside, he saw that it was not. No skirt he’d ever seen had boning. He pulled the thing out and was surprised to find himself holding a corset made of red and black silk, which he had never in his wildest fantasies imagined Granger even owning, let alone wearing.

Perhaps she meant to wear it for him. The mental image that followed hardened him further and made Draco even more anxious for her return. He was grinning broadly to himself when he heard the faint sound of Hermione’s voice giving the portrait outside their password. Quick as a flash, he slid the corset back into place, shut the drawer, doused the lights, and tiptoed out of Hermione’s room, shutting the door partway behind him.

He had just darted into his own room when he heard footsteps at the bottom of the stairs. Good, she hadn’t seen him. Maybe she wouldn’t notice her stupid diary had changed color until after he’d had the chance to see her in that absolutely decadent corset…if he was lucky.

He wasn’t.

“MALFOY!” He jumped and looked up, clutching a pair of trousers to his chest like an elderly witch clutching her knitting. Hermione stood in the door of his room, holding the sparkly pink book, a murderous look on her face. “You’ve been going through my things!”

“I…ah, Granger, that is--" Draco tried to think of a plausible reason for him to be looking in her drawers. Hermione’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t ‘Granger’ me.” She stomped into his room, waving the book at him. “I charmed this specifically to keep prying eyes OUT! What exactly did you hope to accomplish? Do you want to go back to being at each other’s throats all the time, is that it?”

Her voice had taken on a slightly hysterical tone. Draco realized that she was really upset with him, and probably afraid that he had been snooping because he’d grown tired of her and was looking for some way to torment her. He had to disabuse her of that notion right away. So he sighed and looked at the floor. “"No, Granger. It was simple curiosity, that’s all.”

“Simple curiosity?” Hermione looked as if she didn’t believe him.

He glanced up, in what he hoped was a contrite manner. through his fringe, and saw her swallow. He had to fight back the urge to smirk. “Yes.” Draco dropped the trousers on the floor, stepping over them and coming to stand near her. “I wanted to know more about you,” he told her, holding her eyes intently.

A muscle in Hermione's jaw twitched. “You could’ve just asked, Malfoy,” she pointed out.

“I know, but…I was bored, waiting for you. Where were you, anyway?”

“Tutoring Michael Corner in the finer points of Arithmancy, which he’s apparently ignored for the last three weeks. Don’t change the subject, Draco. This is a breach of my trust, you know.”

Draco was startled, though he tried not to show it, both by her use of his given name (which she never called him unless they were in bed) and by her mention of trust. He hadn’t even considered that. Slytherins were not in the habit of trusting anybody wholly, even if they’d been lifelong friends or had dated the same person for years. But she wasn’t a Slytherin. He finally said, “I’m sorry, Granger. I’ll never do it again.”

“No, you won’t, especially now that you know that the book is charmed. But I’ll warn you, the charm works differently every time. Next time, it might be your hair that turns pink,” she told him. Draco shuddered at the thought. “And I demand satisfaction.”

It took him a moment to process this statement. Draco smirked, feeling his now-deflated erection starting to come back to life. “That shouldn’t be too hard to arrange,” he said, but Hermione stepped back when he would have drawn her closer to kiss her.

“No, it won’t.” She folded her arms, eyeing him up and down. He was still in his towel and hadn’t combed his hair since his shower, and it had dried in a rather unruly manner, hanging in his eyes. From the look on Hermione’s face, she liked what she saw.

Draco lifted his chin and asked coolly, “So, how do you plan on exacting your revenge?”

Her voice was tart. “I’d hoped to wear something tonight that I thought you might find interesting, but I’ve changed my mind.”

“The corset?” he said before he could stop himself.

Hermione’s eyebrows rose. “Yes. I suppose you inspected everything in my dresser, then?”

“No, I didn’t get to the last drawer.”

“Thank Merlin for small favors.” She snorted, but there was a speculative look in her eye that excited Draco, even though it made him uneasy. He waited for her to expand on what she’d said before about “demanding satisfaction.”

“Come with me,” Hermione ordered, before she turned on her heel and left the room. After a short pause, Draco followed. He wasn’t normally very compliant and he hated being ordered about, but he was too curious -- and too randy -- to resist her demand. He trailed Hermione into her bedroom, where she was resetting the charm on her book. She replaced it in her dresser, then turned to look at him, leaning against the nearest bedpost.

“I meant what I said, Draco,” she murmured softly, and he was seized by that unsettling feeling again that made him want to both throw himself at Hermione and leap out of the window. “I need to be able to trust you if we’re going to be together like this.” She bit her lip in thought. He waited, his heart beating much faster than it ought to. “I want you to do something for me.”

“Whatever it takes, Granger,” he said smoothly, and she cast him a sharp glance, but not an unamused one.

“Don’t speak too soon,” she warned him. Turning to her chest of drawers, she opened the third drawer and pulled out the sexy red and black corset, letting it dangle from her fingers.

He swallowed hard. “I thought you said you’d changed your mind about wearing that?” Draco rasped through a throat that had suddenly gone dry.

“I have. I’m not going to wear it,” Hermione said, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief and something else, too. “You are.”
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Six of One, Half A Dozen Of Another