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White Silk	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 6924 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise. JK Rowling does. I make no money doing this. I just sort through pocket lint.

Chapter List
- 1-White Silk
- 1
AN: So, I had a few requests to post something. I've been toying with this one for a while and I thought I'd let you guys have it, just sort of as a "Nope, I didn't die" kind of thing. This is the sequeal to Pink Lace that a few requested. It involves a cross-dressing Draco. You have been warned."

Draco examined his hair in the mirror. He’d have to dye it again soon. Already, the platinum blond was shining through his mahogany locks. It looked like straw, though. It grew too fast, rejected muggle color too easily. He hadn’t counted on his inner magic trying to fight the muggle camouflage. At least it hadn’t rebelled against the contacts. His eyes looked as dull brown as ever. He nodded at his reflection and touched his lips up with his favorite cherry flavored lip gloss. It always made him smile… and think of her.
“Doreen! Hurry now, we’re going to be late!”
He sighed and cleared his throat to get rid of any hoarseness. “Coming!”
“Honestly, you spend more time in front of the mirror than any other roommate I’ve ever had.”
He shrugged and smiled at his best friend Amanda. “Have to look my best.”
“You’re best,” Amanda huffed. “We’re just going to the salon.”
“Might find someone I like.”
Amanda grinned and rolled her eyes. “You’ve brushed off every bloke who has ever even tried to talk to you.”
“Not my type,” he said lightly, making a conscious effort to keep his voice light and high.
He’d once made the mistake of speaking when he’d just woken up and nearly blown his cover. Thankfully, Amanda had just thought that he was coming down with a cold. He did have a deep voice, even speaking as lightly as he could.
Amanda scoffed. “I’m starting to think your type excludes everyone with a cock.”
He frowned at that. Damn if she was right. He supposed it was a bit suspicious how he avoided blokes like the plague. But if it was one thing that he absolutely did not want, it was some bloke flirting with him. There was only one person who was his type. And he would never have her again. A delicate hand touched his shoulder and he almost drew his wand.
“Hey,” Amanda said softly. “I… I didn’t realize. It’s okay, you know. You aren’t the only one.”
“What?” he asked in confusion.
“Lesbian,” Amanda said gently. “There are a lot of you hanging around. No one really cares, well, except for Coraline, and she’d care no matter what.”
He sniffed at that. He’d learned a lot about muggles since entering into Saint Francis Academy for Young Women. But the one lesson that hit home was how much wizards and muggles were alike. In fact, the only difference was the absence of magic. They had their Hufflepuffs, those who were warm and welcoming, good hosts and loyal. He imagined Amanda would be a Hufflepuff and for the life of him, he couldn’t hold it against her. They had their Ravenclaws, the brainy ones who were all about studies. They had ambition and were more Slytherin than he realized. There were Gryffindors, those who didn’t give a thought before they acted but would stand up for others as well.
And there was Coraline Blakely. If ever there was a Slytherin muggle, she was one. Actually, if he had to place her in Hogwarts, she’d be the mirror image of Pansy. She was a fucking bully that even Salazar might have cringed at. She actually made him ashamed of his own actions in the past. She was a manipulative self-centered bitch who didn’t care who she stepped on to get to the top. She was the professors’ darling, the top student though she didn’t actually complete her own papers. She was above reproach and he had learned to keep his head down rather quickly. He couldn’t afford to stand out here, not when he was hiding. Granger had worked too bloody hard to make sure he was there as legitimately as possible. Petty things like taking Coraline down a notch… or twelve… had to go.
“Come on then. That blonde is blinding me,” Amanda said, shaking him out of his musings. “Though I don’t know why you’d want to cover it. Trust me, brunette isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I think the platinum is beautiful and that dye is horrid for your hair. Then again, it could be those hot rollers you are so fond of.”
He smiled and shook his head, leading the way out of the school. He did adore the hot rollers. It ensured that his hair was curly and didn’t look anything like his old look. It had been nine long months since he’d gone into hiding with the muggles and while he’d seen several suspicious characters, no one had spotted him. And he planned to keep it that way.
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“You’re just going to make your appointment,” Amanda gushed as they leapt out of the taxi.
“Afraid not.”
He skidded to a halt just as he reached the salon door. He knew that voice. It haunted him in his dreams. Hearing it now made his heart leap into his throat. He sighed deeply and turned around, wincing when he saw her. She was thin, bedraggled, and pale, but her eyes still glowed with the fierceness he knew could never be ripped from her. She had a bright red wound across her neck that wasn’t covered by the heavy black cloak she wore and he shuddered.
“It’s time,” Draco said morosely.
Hermione Granger looked around and lowered her hood, nodding sadly. “We have to strike quickly.”
He nodded, knowing that it had been coming. “When?”
“Tomorrow.”
All his air left him. “That soon?”
“We have to,” Granger said sadly. “They can’t have time to recover.”
“And you?” Draco countered. “Can you not have time to recover?”
Granger frowned. “I’m fine.”
Draco snorted. “Yes, that cut on your neck looks just fine.”
Granger quickly drew her hand up to her neck and winced. “You can thank your Aunt for that one.”
Draco growled. “I’ll make sure to.”
“What in the bloody hell is going on?” Amanda shrieked.
He jumped and spun around, realizing that Amanda had been standing there the entire time. She was usually quiet so he didn’t expect her to be so vocal. But he had to admit, this looked bad. And suddenly he felt awful. He’d put her in danger.
“Go back to the school, Amanda,” he ordered.
“No,” Amanda said, planting her feet and crossing her arms. “You tell me what is going on now. Is this your girlfriend? Are you in trouble?”
“No and yes,” He said shortly, forgetting to use his feminine voice. Amanda’s face twisted in confusion and he sighed. “Amanda, please, trust me. Just go back to school and stay there.”
Amanda gasped, her blue eyes turning grey with unshed tears. “I… Doreen? What’s going on?”
He felt his heart break into pieces. Amanda had been there for him since the beginning. He had tried to be the lone wolf at first but he’d learned quickly that it was a bad idea in an all-girl school. They traveled in packs and without a pack, he stuck out worse than ever. She’d befriended him, given him tips on how to fit in, and overlooked his slip ups along the way. He loved her. It wasn’t romantic in any way but he loved her just the same. He guessed he finally understood the relationship between Potter and Granger after that. But Amanda could never know who he truly was. Hell, he might not live long enough to even try to tell her.
“Hey,” Granger said softly, putting her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll take care of this. I already grabbed your things.” She walked closer and rose on her toes to whisper in his ear. “It’ll be like you never existed.”
“No,” he breathed. “No, please.”
“Why not? It’ll be easier for her.”
“I know,” he said, choking on emotions he’d never felt before. “But she’s my best friend.”
Granger sighed. “I’ll make her think you had a family emergency.”
“Thank you,” he breathed.
He turned his back so he wouldn’t have to see Granger taking Amanda’s memories or giving her false ones. He certainly didn’t want to see his normally very lucid friend in a state of confusion that would rival Lockheart’s. And he didn’t want to watch the girl who had supported him for nine months get into a cab and not give him another thought. It hurt more than he thought it ever would. Then again, he wasn’t supposed to get attached. He was a wizard. And he had a war to help end.
“She’s gone,” Granger said quietly.
He nodded and blinked his eyes. They were suspiciously moist but he was still a Malfoy and Malfoys did not cry. In fact, only Granger had ever made him break down. And she was doing it again without trying. What was it about her that got under his skin?
“You love her,” she said suddenly.
“She’s my best friend. Or was.”
“You love her.”
“Do you love Potter?”
She gave him a sad smile. “How was it, befriending the muggles?”
“Hard. But once I got past the fact that I couldn’t use magic…”
“They aren’t really that different, are they?”
He shrugged. “Not really. I could do without the screaming and fawning over self-indulgent blokes though. Are we going to get out of here or what?”
She thrust a piece of paper in his hand. “Read this and we’ll duck into the closest alley.”
He read ‘Shell Cottage’ and then crumpled the paper, wincing when it burst into flames and turned to ash. She spun around to walk and nearly hit the ground. On instinct, he lunged forward and scooped her into his arms. He raced into the alley and set her down carefully.
“You’re hurt,” he whispered.
“I’ll be fine,” she hissed, gaining her balance. “Grab my hand.”
He didn’t dare contradict her but it took everything he had not to shiver at her touch. Despite her frail appearance, she had a firm grip. It brought back memories of a night long ago when they said why not instead of why. Flashes of pink lace and plum satin soared through his mind, making him shift to relieve the sudden pressure in his groin. And the next second it didn’t matter because there was a tug behind his naval.
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“She needs rest.”
“She’s not strong enough.”
“She needs to heal.”
“She’s stretched herself too thin.”
Draco frowned as he sat in the corner and watched as Potter, Bill, Weaselbee, Fleur, Lovegood, and the werewolf bicker over Hermione’s predicament. She had collapsed as soon as they had landed. He had been horrified and angry at her but picked her up and carried her to the door just the same. Due to his appearance, the Weasleys were a little hesitant to let him in but Hermione had thought of that. Right before he’d gone into hiding, she’d given him a phrase to memorize that would let them know that he was who he said he was. However, it was degrading. ‘White bouncing ferret’ was not something he actually wanted to say but no one would have thought of it.
“She’s not going to accept that answer,” Potter finally said, making everyone shut up for a second. “You all know what she’s like. She’ll keep going until she can’t anymore.”
Draco couldn’t stand it anymore. “What happened to her?”
Weaselbee turned on him then, face red as fire. “Your bloody Aunt crucioed her within an inch of her fucking life. Then she started cutting her up with her knife.”
Draco physically cringed at that. Bellatrix was known for her knife work. She used a cursed blade laced with blood poison designed to weaken and eventually kill anyone with less than pure blood. No wonder Hermione was so weak. And no one in the Order would know. Snape was under deep cover so he couldn’t be summoned. He would have to make it.
“I’ll need a cauldron,” Draco announced, cutting off the weasel’s very graphic description of Hermione’s torture.
“What?” Weasel hissed.
“You want her to get better?” Draco asked coolly. “I’ll need to make the antidote.”
Bill narrowed his eyes. “I’ve searched for poison.”
“This one is undetectable. Bellatrix soaks her knife in it. It’s infused with a cloaking spell.”
“How do you make it?” Bill asked eagerly.
Draco scowled darkly and worked his jaw for a moment. The vow he’d been subjected to before he escaped was unyielding. “Can’t say.”
Weasley stood and started to lunge at Draco. “You better bloody well-“
“Stop,” Potter snapped, his eyes glowing in the candlelight. “He’s been placed under some sort of secrecy spell.”
“Well spotted,” Draco said quietly.
“But you can make it?” Potter asked.
Draco nodded. “I’ll need a cauldron. And access to basic ingredients.”
“How long?” Potter asked.
“Not long,” Draco managed to get out. “She’ll be fine.”
“You can use the basement,” Bill said, cutting a glare at his youngest brother who was practically seething. “There’s a full store of basic potions ingredients there. Do you need anything special?”
He shook his head and made his way to the basement stairs that Bill had pointed out. In truth, the potion would take something extremely special, his own blood, the blood of a pureblood. But Granger was worth it. She had saved his life. He still owed her. He cursed his Aunt again for tying his tongue but at least he could still make the potion. It was quite simple, dittany mixed with blood and infused with bezoar powder and family magic.
Twenty minutes later, he had a balm that would not only defeat the poison, but leave Granger blemish free. He had to be the one to apply it though. There was one final step that he couldn’t tell anyone about.
“Is it done?” the weasel asked as soon as he hit the ground floor.
“Obviously,” Draco drawled.
“Give it here then,” Weasley snapped.
“No,” Draco said, not bothering to say anything else as he trudged upstairs, an angry Weasley on his heels.
At that point, he didn’t give a shit if the wanker tried to hex him. He was torn in a dozen different directions, worried about Granger, heartsick over Amanda, scared for the coming war, uncertain about the future, and numb from the sudden change in his life. There hadn’t been a day that went by that he didn’t sit up late and contemplate just how wrong he’d been. He’d changed. He wasn’t the same man that was. He hoped he was better for it.
“Come back here you-“
Draco ducked the swing that Weasley threw. He knew it was coming. Weasley was too predictable. He secretly hoped the wanker would hit him. He had wanted to beat the bloody hell out of him for too long now. His head spun when he thought about the red headed wanker trying to weasel his way into Hermione’s knickers.
Weasley swung again and Draco spun that time, bumping into the git and making him stumble down a few stairs. “If you want her healed, then you better bloody well get the fuck away from me you bloody bastard.”
“Ron,” Potter growled, dragging his mate away. “Let him help her.”
“Help her,” Weasley said incredulously. “He’ll take advantage of her!”
Draco snorted. “I’ve lived in an all-girl school for damn near a year Weaselbee. I’m pretty sure I can control myself… unlike some people.”
He stormed upstairs, leaving the red headed git to fume. He actually felt a bit guilty about that insult. He had promised that anything Granger had divulged that night would stay between them. Then again, he’d actually witnessed the weasel shagging Brown before he left so it wasn’t that big of a secret. It was kind of sickening to see Weasley hanging all over Granger the next day but he promised not to say anything and he didn’t.
“Come in,” Granger called weakly when he knocked.
“Hey,” he said, closing the door behind him. “Brought you something.”
“You shouldn’t have,” she said dryly, struggling to sit up.
He smiled sadly and shook his head, walking over to help her up. “She did a number on you.”
“Managed to keep from spilling my guts though,” she said with a muffled groan.
“Where all did she cut you?”
“My neck… and…” She bit her lip, lowering her eyes in shame. “My arm.”
“Off with the shirt then. Let me see.”
“I’d rather not-“
“You’ve been poisoned,” he said darkly. “Take. Off. The. Shirt.”
She shivered at his tone and then chuckled. “It’s strange taking orders from you when you look like that.”
He frowned and looked down at his attire. Damn. He was still dressed like Doreen. His magic had already streaked his hair blond but his contacts were still in. No wonder everyone had stared at him the entire night. He hadn’t even thought twice about his appearance. Nine months of living as a woman day in and day out had made him almost blind to his own appearance. But he had a wicked thought and couldn’t help but smirk.
“I thought you liked this look.”
She quirked a brow, her pale cheeks pinking up a bit. “I like what’s underneath.”
“I’m afraid the pink lace is dirty. Now take off the shirt, Granger, before I take it off for you.”
“Excuse me,” she growled.
He cleared his throat and leveled his eyes at her. “I’m the dominant today sweetheart. It’s my turn to take care of you. Now. Take. Off. The. Shirt.”
She sniffed and slowly peeled the ratty jumper she was wearing off. He gasped when he saw it, the bright gouges in her arm that spelled out ‘Mudblood.’ No wonder she’d been so hesitant to take off the shirt. But he could fix that.
“That bitch,” he hissed, stalking over to gently take her arm. “I’ll claw her eyes out.”
She giggled. “You sound like a girl.”
“I’d like to hear your vocabulary after living in a school full of only boys,” he snarked.
“There’s my Draco,” she said softly. “I was wondering where you were.”
“Hidden under layers of Doreen but I’m still here.”
“Well, can you take Doreen off? I’d like to see you.”
He smirked. “Oh really?”
She smacked his stomach but it was too weak. The poison was working hard. He ignored her request for him to undress and went to work, gently rubbing the balm into her arm despite her hisses and moans. He knew this hurt. He’d been a victim of Bellatrix’s knife before. Even without the potion, the cursed blade hurt like hell. When he was sure the scar had been covered, he complied with her wishes, shucking his white silk shirt. This was the part he couldn’t tell anyone about. Silk was the binding agent he’d infuse the rest of the cure with. And the fact that it was already infused with his essence only helped. He quickly ripped it into strips and bound the wound, muttering the counter under his breath. It felt good to use magic again, even if it was for such rotten circumstances. She started breathing easier and he let out a sigh of relief.
“Now the neck,” he said.
He gently gathered her hair and secured it on top of her head with a nearby knitting needle. He’d learned that trick from Amanda after battling his hair all day long when he’d forgotten a tie on a trip to the park. He shook away the melancholy and began applying the rest of the balm to the slice on her neck. It was deep, too deep. She was lucky Bellatrix hadn’t sliced her head off. He was pretty sure that was her aim. When it was coated, he wrapped her neck with the rest of his shirt.
“There,” he breathed, watching her eyes flutter as the potion did its work.
“White silk,” she muttered. “It looks good on you.”
He looked down and laughed. He was wearing the other bra she’d gotten him, white silk. He even had matching knickers. The white corset zipped up the front which allowed him to adjust it before he put it on. He’d gotten used to the constricting garment and could tolerate the pinching. Surprisingly, it was the skirt that he’d had the easiest time getting used to. One didn’t wear robes their entire life without experiencing a breeze a time or two and Hermione was sweet enough to make sure his skirts were extra-long.
“Take the rest off?”
He quirked an eyebrow but did as she asked, smirking when her eyes zeroed in on his knickers. “Like what you see?”
“You’ve shaved.”
He hadn’t counted on blushing so fiercely but it was such a dirty and yet completely innocent statement. He cleared his throat and tried to save face. “Girls don’t have chest hair and happy trails. And it makes it easier to tuck.”
She hummed and nodded. “Take the padding out.”
He frowned as he obeyed her. “What are we doing, Granger?”
“Hermione.”
He sighed. “What are we doing, Hermione?”
“You’re amusing the invalid,” she said softly.
He huffed. “Glad my appearance is a grand bloody joke.”
“You know I don’t think that,” she said, her eyes dilating as she took him in. “How is your stash of deflating draught?”
“Haven’t taken it in a while,” he admitted, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “If I wank in the morning, it takes care of the erection and I don’t get hard nearly as quickly.”
“And the other girls?”
He shrugged. “Sort of blind to them now. Can’t really admire the view when you’re trying to hide behind it completely.”
“Amanda?”
He sighed and sat down on the bed beside her. “She took pity on me, I suppose. I tried very hard not to stand out but new girls always do. And, of course, I’m bloody huge.”
She laughed. “I figured there would be at least a few girls your height.”
“Yeah but they were all skinny. I had to learn how to sneak food so I wouldn’t starve to death.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“If you eat as much as I normally do, you get tormented for being a cow. Girls are fucking vicious!”
She smirked. “Give you a new respect for them?”
“I’ll certainly never fault one for breaking down and crying, that’s for sure.”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t sure you could do it, Draco, but you proved me wrong. I’m proud of you.”
He huffed. “Let’s see how proud of me you are when I freeze up in battle.”
“I very much doubt that.”
“I ran and hid in a school full of muggle girls. How much more cowardly can you get?”
“You said it yourself. Girls are vicious. I doubt Ron would last five minutes in that place.”
“Without trying to hump the legs of every girl, you mean?” Her face darkened and he backpedaled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-“
“No,” she said gruffly. “You meant it. And you’d be right. He still thinks I’m clueless! He left us, Draco. He bloody left us out there and when he came back, he smelled like perfume and he had bites all over his neck.”
His mind went black. “Why in the fuck did that bastard leave? I’ll hex him-“
“He was wearing a dark object,” she said quickly. “And it tainted his mind but still… Harry and I managed to wear it without deserting each other.”
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. What could one say to that? Well, he knew what he wanted to do about it but he didn’t think Hermione would approve of him turning Weasley into a matchstick.
“It’s fine,” she said, eyeing him curiously. “Mind if I ask you a question?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Haven’t you already been doing that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine then. Did you fuck anyone while you were there?”
His jaw dropped in shock before he could think. “Of course I didn’t! Do you think I’m fucking stupid? You know I had to drink gallons of that damned deflating draught when I first started.”
She gave him a lazy smirk. “So you’re horny then?”
“I haven’t had anyone since you, Hermione,” he said darkly. “Of course I am.”
She gave a pointed glance to his crotch, which was surprisingly soft and then quirked an eyebrow.
“I have more control that that.”
She smirked. “Really?”
He stifled a groan at the sinful look on her face and began the focusing exercises he’d learned during his first few months at the school. It didn’t help much, not when she was looking at him like he was the tastiest lolly in the bunch.
She chuckled when he lost the battle, his cock slowly filling and stretching the white silk knickers. “Take off the bra, Draco.”
“We can’t do this again,” he said sadly.
She frowned. “Why not? One time put you off?”
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous gesture he’d picked up from Amanda. “That’s just it. One time and I still can’t get the memories out of my bloody mind. I don’t think I can handle another time. Not when I know you’re going to submit yourself to that thoughtless bastard downstairs.”
“What if I said that I wouldn’t,” she said softly, studying the way he shifted. “What if I told you that I don’t want him?”
He cleared his throat and tried not to fidget at the news. “You said one time.”
“Now I say two.”
“And what then? We go our separate ways, I continue to… never mind.”
“What?”
“It’s nothing.”
She huffed. “It’s not nothing if you won’t look at me.”
He threw up a silencing charm so he wouldn’t draw any attention to them and leapt off the bed. “You’ve ruined me!”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you fucking ruined me, Hermione. When I wank, it’s to thoughts of you in that bloody plumb number. I tried thinking about other girls and it always goes back to you.”
“How many deflating draughts did you take?” she asked incredulously.
“I got hard because they all reminded me of you!” he shouted, breathing heavy from the sheer weight of the emotions he’d been holding in. “I love Amanda. I love her so bloody much it’s hard to breathe at the thought of her walking out of my life forever. But I can’t even entertain the notion of dating her or anyone else because I can’t get over you. Every brunette makes me think of you and every sweet girl makes me think of you and every know-it-all makes me think of you. You. It’s always you. What in the fuck did you do to me? Is it some sort of fucking spell?”
She blinked a moment in surprise before her eyes softened. “There’s no spell, Draco. It was one night, just a couple of hours at that. Why do you think it affected you so badly?”
“I don’t bloody well know, do I?” he hissed, starting to pace back and forth. “I guess… I guess it’s because I let myself see the real you and… I don’t fucking know! I just know that I’m a possessive fuck and I hate it that I can’t have you all to myself.”
“Why can’t you?”
He stopped, his jaw dropping in shock before he snorted. “I don’t bloody well deserve you and you know it. What kind of man hides behind women and thinks he’s better than the lot?”
“Needs must,” she said quietly, beckoning him to come to her, which his couldn’t help but obey. “We might not make it out tomorrow, Draco.”
“I know,” he whispered, his eyes closing in pain. “The thought of you dying is….”
“Just me?”
“Well, everyone but Weaselbee. I’d rather him disappear.”
“But not die.”
He huffed. “No one deserves to die. Well, the Dark Lord does. And my Aunt Bellatrix.”
“One more night,” she whispered. “If we both survive, we can talk about more.”
“More,” he breathed, a hundred different scenarios flashing through his mind.
She smirked. “Take all the bum padding out of those knickers and lose the bra.”
“Yes Mistress,” he muttered, complying without thought.
She gasped and shivered. “I think I like the white silk even better. But the hair…”
It was his turn to shiver as her magic washed over him, leaving him as he once was. Even the contacts disappeared from his eyes, which he was grateful for.
“Now,” she said, tapping her wand to her lips. “I’m afraid I can’t do much.”
“You shouldn’t move,” he cut in. “That poison takes a little while to work its way out of the body.”
She hummed. “Will it affect you?”
He shook his head. “No. It’s targeted for those with less than pureblood.”
She cocked her head in curiosity. “So how did you counter it?”
He tried to answer but choked on it, finally settling for clearing his throat and shrugging. He muttered darkly under his breath but it didn’t help. She still wouldn’t be able to know. It was sort of sad. He actually wanted her to know that he’d give his blood to save her. Whether it was because he couldn’t stand the debt or something much deeper, he couldn’t say.
“I think I have an idea,” she whispered, her eyes lazily perusing his body. “Merlin, how did you keep up your physique?”
“Wasn’t easy,” he murmured. “Most girls take swimming but I opted for track and field. I damn near outed myself when I started hurdles.”
Hermione chuckled. “Yes, well… I do love that you didn’t let yourself go.”
He looked down and studied his body. The best part was still covered by the corset but his arms and legs were definitely more defined now. He’d taken to wearing long sleeves and even longer skirts just to hide it. He couldn’t help the way his body muscled out. Besides, he needed the physical activity if for nothing other than to work his frustration out.
“Kneel.”
He sucked in a breath and complied, bowing his head. Kneeling probably hurt worse than laying in the stupid corset but he’d do whatever she wanted. He couldn’t fight it now. She’d ensnared him the very first time and he couldn’t get away.
“Looks uncomfortable,” she mused, leaning forward to run her fingers through his hair. “Though it is quite gorgeous. It makes your skin look so pale, like porcelain. But you’re stronger than that, aren’t you?”
“Not really,” he whispered, thinking about every cowardly thing he’d ever done.
“Your first instinct on seeing me was to get Amanda out of the way. No coward thinks of anyone but themselves.”
“I ran,” he choked, ducking his head so he wouldn’t have to meet her eyes. “I ran and hid.”
“Lucius would have flayed you wide open when we were caught. What good would you be then?”
“At least I would have tried.”
It still ate at him, how he’d accepted her offer of hiding him just to save his own skin. He’d been beyond scared. Judging from the looks of her, she’d been through hell and back. She shouldn’t have had to do that. It should have been him out there, starving, risking his life. He’d done so much that he needed to atone for. There wasn’t a night that passed that he didn’t think of the spanking she’d given him, listing each of his transgressions as she struck. And just that one time hadn’t listed a third of them.
“Draco, look at me.”
He reluctantly raised his eyes, gasping at the sincerity in hers. He could drown in those amber orbs, so different than anyone he’d ever encountered. He had to look down to get away from the intensity in them. It burned.
“You’ll get a chance to prove yourself. They might not believe in you but I do. I know you could be so much more than they ever dreamed of. But you’ve been forced to do what other people want, your mother and father, the Dark Lord, the Order… me.”
His head shot up in alarm. She never forced him to do anything and he opened his mouth to say so but was stopped when she held her hand up.
“No, hear me out. You weren’t given a choice. I told you when and how you would hide and you did it because there really was no other choice. I know hiding in an all-girl muggle school was probably the last thought in your mind but you did it… because I told you to. And while it was for your own good, I can see the self-loathing. You hate what you’ve become.”
“I don’t,” he snapped, cringing when she breathed out heavily. “I don’t hate what I’ve become. I… I have changed. I hate what I was. I hate how cowardly I am. I hate that I’ve hidden behind my bigger friends and my father’s money. I hate that even now, when I finally get the chance to defeat everyone who has ever tried to force me to be someone I’m not, I’m terrified of tomorrow.”
“Being terrified of dying is not a weakness,” she said, brushing his hair out of his face. “I’m scared too. We all are. But we have to fight. There is no choice. Maybe we’re not so different after all.”
He studied her face, the worry lines and the drawn cheeks. Her eyes, still sparkling with the fierceness he’d come to love, were tired. She was worn out, resolved to her fate, and firm in her choices. He just wanted to hold her, comfort her. It was totally unlike him and he found that he couldn’t care in the least.
“Mistress, may I kiss you?”
She smiled and nodded, spreading her legs so he could shuffle in between them. Even kneeling on the floor with her sitting on the bed, he was the same height at her. He reached up and caressed her cheek before gently pressing his lips to hers. It was something completely different than last time. It wasn’t an urgent thing, brought on by pent up lust and frustration. This was… he didn’t know. But he liked it. She opened her lips and he took the invitation to slide his tongue in, tasting her thoroughly. He was glad to get anything she gave him and took full advantage of it, committing her to memory until they both needed to catch their breath.
“Take the corset off,” she ordered.
She didn’t have to tell him twice. He quickly unzipped the offending garment that had tortured him for the better part of the year and flung it across the room. He briefly entertained the notion of burning it but thought better of it. She might want to see him in it again… if there was another time.
“Damn,” she muttered, taking in the hardened planes of his chest and the defined ridges of his abdomen. “You’re even more fit.”
He smirked. “Had to do something in my spare time.”
She hummed in appreciation, reaching out to trace the ridges in his abs. He bit back a groan and shifted when the head of his cock wedged painfully against the band of his knickers. He’d never gotten so hard so fast in his life. Last time they were together, it was a gentle teasing. This time, until it actually happened, he couldn’t entertain the notion of having her again. But now… oh he wanted her. He wanted to consume her, take charge and throw her on the bed and fuck her into the mattress. She was too frail for that, though.
She studied him for a moment and nodded, leaning back and hitting herself with a spell that left her in nothing but a Slytherin green thong and demi-bra. His mouth went dry seeing her in his house colors. He had to reach down and firmly grab his cock to stop himself from cuming like a virgin. She smirked and he gripped harder, embarrassed by his lack of control.
“Climb on the bed, boy, and lie down, head at the top, me between your legs.”
He blew out a breath of air and rose, willing himself to gain control. A vision of Coraline popped into his head, sneering at him and sashaying across the park, parading herself in front of some punk looking muggle boys and tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder half a dozen times. It gave him the control he needed without the withering effect thinking about his Mark induction had. He was careful not to knock into Hermione as he positioned himself where she wanted him.
“Now,” Hermione breathed, her eyes zeroed in on his knickers that were stretched to the max. “That’s hot.”
He shivered at the predatory look in her eye. Merlin but he loved how dominant she was. It made him want to dominate her that much more but submitting, that was the true test. He hoped she realized what he was trying to tell her by being so compliant. The first time was curiosity and fun. This time… this time he wanted her to know he was serious. He wanted her and if obeying her every whim would help, he’d do it.
He couldn’t hold back a groan when she leaned down and blew on his cock. The wet spot where his head was furiously leaking grew uncomfortably cool and the change in temperature was almost enough to set him off. He wasn’t going to last.
“M-mistress please,” he gasped as she leaned down to lap at his wet knickers.
“Please what?” she asked, looking up at him with lust in her eyes.
“I… I won’t last like that. Please… please put the ring on.”
He couldn’t believe he was actually begging for a cock ring. Before this whole ordeal happened, he wouldn’t have thought twice about cumming. He wouldn’t have even cared that nine months of nothing but his hand had decreased his stamina. But now… he wanted to please Hermione and this was not the way.
She smirked and flicked her wand, his knickers disappearing. “Request denied.”
He sucked in a huge lungful of air when she completely engulfed him in her mouth. He’d forgotten how amazing she was with her mouth. It was perfect, so hot and wet and that tongue. What she could do with that tongue. He tried to control himself, think about less pleasant things like his induction, the hordes of female Death Eaters that used his body, the crushing loneliness that he’d suffered the past months. It didn’t work and he felt himself teetering dangerously on the edge.
She pulled back with a pop and blew on the head of his oversensitive cock. “Don’t hold back, boy. You need this.”
“But-“
His protest was cut off with a sharp slap to his outer thigh. The sting made him focus enough to realize that she wanted him to let go. Her mouth descended on him again and he saw white. All his pent up sexual frustration rose to a boiling point. When she ran her tongue under the flange of his head and then hollowed out her cheeks to suck harder, he lost it. His orgasm was so strong he saw stars and his back arched so sharply it hurt. She stayed right there, swallowing every drop before gently licking him clean.
“Merlin,” Draco whispered.
“Better?”
Draco shivered. Her voice was husky from her previous ministrations. “T-thank y-you Mistress.”
She chuckled and sat up. Her color left and she swayed back and forth. Draco shot up in alarm, quickly helping her to lie down in his place. He checked her vitals frantically and cursed himself for being selfish.
“I’m fine,” she said, smiling softly. “Just a bit weak.”
“God, I’m so selfish,” he whispered, caressing her cheek.
She laughed. “Are you sure you’re Draco Malfoy?”
He grinned. “Sometimes.”
“Well,” she said, grabbing his hand. “Then maybe you can figure out what to do with this.”
He bit back a groan when she put his hand on her satin covered breast. He looked at her face for permission and had to gasp at the lust glowing in her eyes. He hadn’t gotten much of a chance to play with her gorgeous tits last time. Her eyes fluttered closed and he couldn’t help himself, kneading and caressing the green encased treasure. She moaned softly and he let out a huff of air. He was getting hard again, but he wouldn’t let it get to him this time.
“May I take this off?” he asked, sliding his fingers under the straps.
“Yes,” she said breathily.
He gently lifted her up and snapped the back open, lying her down and peeling the garment off with expert fingers. He’d taken his own bra off more times than he cared to count and he’d witnessed more than one girl doing the same. He made sure to massage her shoulders and the outsides of her breasts, working his way underneath before he started towards the already pebbled nipples. Some good things came from pretending to be a woman. The knowledge of what ached after a day of wearing a bra was one of them. He smirked when she groaned in pleasure.
“Suck them,” she ordered.
He didn’t have to be told twice. He leaned down and gently lapped at the right nipple before drawing it in his mouth and suckling. He gently bit down and then soothed it with his tongue before moving to the other. His fingers crept up, plucking and pulling one nipple while his mouth engaged the other, switching back and forth until she was arching off the bed and panting.
“Gods Draco,” she whimpered. “Don’t tease.”
“May I finish disrobing you, Mistress?” he asked, his hands hovering at the thin pieces of elastic that passed for her knickers.
“Yes boy,” she said rather tersely.
He bit back a laugh and dragged the scrap of material down her legs, taking her in. She was much thinner than she should be, but still shapely. He did wish she had her old curves back. He liked a little padding which he was sure would scandalize Coraline. But Hermione was still beautiful and he wanted her. He just had to make sure that she was too far gone to realize he was about to flip the tables on her.
“What are you waiting for boy?” she growled.
He cocked his head and gave her his most innocent look. “Permission.”
“Just get on with it!”
He bit back and smirk and dove in between her legs, licking and massaging her entrance with his tongue. Her legs nearly rattled his brain they snapped shut so fast. He pulled them apart and sat up, a bewildered look on his face.
“You said I could.”
Her jaw was hanging most unseemly and he relished it. He’d made her crack. One point for Draco. He wasn’t sure why he was counting again but it was fun. They were even now.
“I meant fuck me.”
“I was,” he said dryly.
“Not with your mouth.”
“Why not?”
She gaped a moment, opening and shutting her mouth before blowing out a breath. Point to Draco. She was completely speechless. He smothered the smirk and leaned down, pulling her legs further apart. He deliberately went slow, leaning down and blowing hot air over her center before licking once, pointing his tongue to swirl around her clit. She gasped and trembled, her legs falling further open. When she relaxed, he took it further, pressing his tongue into her entrance and bumping her clit with his nose. She arched off the bed and he crowed inside. At last, he could finally prove to her that he was just as capable of making her come undone.
“Shit,” she yelped when he pressed down a little harder with his nose.
He pulled back, chuckling when she cursed him for stopping. Her muttering fell silent when he replaced his tongue with a finger and then two, massaging her in just the right spot. She cried out and started writhing. He held her hip down with his free hand and bend down to lap at her clit. Her thighs were starting to shake and he could feel the muscles drawing tight, starting to clench. He took that as his cue and drew her clit in his mouth, suckling it gently.
She screamed and arched, clamping down on his fingers so hard he was slightly worried that she would injure them. He sat back to avoid a broken nose from her convulsing and continued to rub gentle circles around the sensitive bud while stroking her inner walls. Her eyes snapped open as soon as the largest of the tremors subsided.
“Get inside me now,” she hissed.
He smirked and pulled his fingers out, taking his time to lick them off. She squealed in frustration and bucked her hips but he refused, drawing his fingers in his mouth and sucking them off. She really did taste delicious.
“Boy-“
“No,” he said, his lips curving into a smile. “It’s time to switch, Mistress.”
“What?” she shrieked.
“We switch now,” he said firmly. “It’s my turn.”
Her breath caught at what was surely his dominant face. He could barely contain her urge to laugh in her face. She might like to be dominant, but she loved to be dominated too. And Merlin did he want to.
“What do you want to be called?” she asked hoarsely.
“Sir,” he said softly. “I’ve had enough masters for one lifetime.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, lowering her eyelashes coquettishly.
He felt that familiar swoop in his nether regions that he got when someone submitted to him. It was different than the one he got when he was submitting, but every bit as intense. He didn’t want to give her time to change her mind, so he grabbed her legs and slung them over his shoulders before dragging her hips down to meet him. She gasped and grabbed the sheets on either side.
“Now,” he said. “Let me show you how this is supposed to go.”
He grabbed his hardening cock and rubbed the head up and down her dripping slit. She bucked her hips and he forced them still.
“No,” he barked. “You need to conserve energy. You will lie there and you will take this.” He sighed at the quiver in her lips and softened, reaching up to caress her cheek with his free hand. “Let me take care of you now.”
A tear slid down her cheek and he wiped it away, wondering what he’d said to make her cry. It wasn’t a frightened tear. He could tell that. But she wasn’t happy either. She was frustrated. He smirked and rubbed the head of his cock over her clit at bit more forcefully, making her whimper. Her arms and legs were shaking from the amount of sheer lust running through her veins. His cock was starting to ache and he decided to end both of their tortures, sliding home in one smooth thrust. Her searing heat enveloped him and he had to fight to keep himself in check.
“Please, Sir,” Hermione begged. “Please move. Please! It’s torture.”
He chuckled and drew back as soon as he was sure he had himself under control. She cried out and shook and he knew this was going to be good. He slid back in slowly, taking the time to feel every muscle and ridge inside her. If they died tomorrow, he wanted to have this one memory to take with him. He went slow and steady, relishing her gasps and whimpers, her soft cries and moans. Her walls fluttered around him as she came again, calling his name.
Sweat beaded up on his back, the efforts of retraining himself taking its toll. She had a thin sheen on her chest, glistening in the dim candlelight. Her hair was in tangles across the pillowcase and her eyes were glowing. She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. He wanted to fuck her silly but she couldn’t handle that right now, so he held back and made sure that if this was all he’d get, it would be worth it. He leaned down and kissed her, slow and languid to match his strokes. Her hips swiveled to meet him and he groaned, feeling her walls clamp down on him again.
“Please,” she gasped. “More. More. Please!”
“You’re not healthy enough for that,” he panted, thrusting sharply despite his words.
She groaned and caught her breath. “I don’t care. Please. I want it all. If this is it, I want it all.”
“They’ll kill me if I hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
Her eyes held so much trust that he almost choked on it. Lust, fear, those he was familiar with. But she was the first one to look at him like that, like he was capable of being a caring lover. He trusted her too. And he wanted to please her so he took a deep breath and pulled her up further, snapping his hips.
“Yes,” she shrieked.
He leaned over, curling her in on herself. He wanted to flip her on her hands and knees and take her from behind, her hands gripping the headboard to keep from slamming into it, but she couldn’t handle that. Even if she thought she could. So he yanked her into him as he thrust harder, trying to get deeper. She cried out in shock and then started babbling, encouraging him to go harder, faster, take as much of her as he could. He complied, whirling and tilting his hips to hit just the right spots.
The increased pace had his bollocks tingling with the need to come but he refused. He wouldn’t go over without her. He reached down and mashed her clit, sending her spiraling into another orgasm. Her walls milked his cock so perfectly that he couldn’t hold anymore, spilling himself deep inside her with a guttural groan. It was all he could do to hold himself off of her as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him before he finally shifted to the side and collapsed beside her. Her breathing was harsh and shallow and he was concerned that he’d pushed too far.
He reached over and brushed her hair from her face. “Are you okay?”
She hummed and nodded. “That… was… wow.”
He chuckled. “So you do submit.”
“Only when I want to,” she said softly.
“You know, you never did tell me about your time with Snape,” he said, thinking back to their first time.
She laughed. “He got sick of Harry’s barbs one day, had him in the stocks with his trousers round his ankles before he could blink. I happened to walk in on it and… well, I had a reaction Snape hadn’t counted on.”
“You liked it,” he said, grinning.
“Merlin yes. So he taught me. We never were intimate, but we had fun.”
Draco chuckled. “So how fast did you try out your new dominating skills?”
She turned to him, studying him with those intelligent amber eyes. “You were the first.”
He gasped. “What?”
She smiled. “Not my first lover… but the first I’d ever tried that on. Something about pink lacy knickers.”
He chuckled. “I still have those.”
She hummed. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”
He sighed. “Let’s get through tomorrow before we promise anything.”
She fell silent, nodding after a while. He stayed with her until she fell into a sated slumber, curled into his side. He stroked her hair and contemplated their strange… whatever kind of relationship this was. It was more than friends… and yet they weren’t really friends. As he slid out from under her and transfigured his skirt into a pair of trousers, he made a vow. If they made it out alive, he would certainly get to know her better, both carnally and otherwise.
He trudged downstairs shirtless and barefoot. He had remembered to clean them both up and run a brush through his hair, but there wasn’t enough material to make him a shirt. And he wasn’t about to transfigure his lingerie. That just seemed like sacrilege. He also refused to wear those damned Mary Janes ever again.
“What did you do to her?” the weasel growled.
Draco sighed. “She’s healed. She won’t wake until tomorrow. Best let her sleep. She’ll need it.”
“Bollocks,” Weasley snapped, pushing past Draco to go upstairs.
Potter rushed over and grabbed Weasley by the arm. “Ron! She needs the rest, damn it.”
“She can rest,” Weasley said. “After I make sure she’s fine.”
Draco laughed. “She’ll hex you seven ways from Sunday if you dared to wake her up.”
“Malfoy’s right,” Potter said.
“But he could have killed her!” Weasley yelled.
“I’ve had plenty of time before that,” Draco snarled. “I’d never hurt a hair on her head.”
Potter huffed. “Look, I’ll check on her. I’m quiet enough she won’t even rouse. You know you sound like a heard of hippogriffs, Ron.”
Weasley crossed his arms and huffed, letting Potter pad upstairs. He sneered at Draco. “I don’t know what your game is, Malfoy, but she’s mine.”
Draco smirked. “Might want to let her be the judge of that.”
“Mione loves me,” Weasley said haughtily.
Draco hummed. “And I’m sure she loves your cock buried balls deep in some other chit, too.”
Weasley spluttered in rage and made to punch him just as Potter glided down the stairs. Draco admired the way he moved, and then chuckled when he realized where Potter had learned that move. Snape.
“She’s fine,” Potter said softly, a slight pink tint in his cheeks. “She’s sleeping soundly.”
Weasley huffed and stormed off. Potter turned to Draco and cocked his head. “You forgot to scourgify the room.” Draco paled and Potter chuckled. “I took care of it. Besides, I have a feeling it wasn’t your idea.”
Draco smirked and shook his head. “Night, Potter.”
Potter grinned. “Night Malfoy. Sweet dreams.”
Draco rolled his eyes and went to find the room he’d been assigned. The next day wouldn’t be pleasant. But the results would be worth it.

AN: There you have it. I'm thinking about maybe turning this into a trilogy. I'm thinking black leather. Thoughts? I have several fics in the works for you guys but I only work on them when I'm stuck on my novel so it's slow going. I won't subject you to waiting so I'll keep them until I get closer to finished. Drop me a line and let me know how you liked this little thing. Until the next one... love you guys!
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