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Doctor's Orders	By : Milady_Bellatrix_Black Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 7094 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This author does not own the World of Harry Potter nor it's characters. The author does not profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Doctor's Orders
- 1
“Mr. Malf…” the aggravated man shot a death glare at the vapid nurse and cleared his throat menacingly. “Malf…or…into. Malforinto. Please follow me to exam room 5. The mediwitch on duty can see you now.”
The mysterious figure tipped his fedora further over his eyes and pulled his cloak tighter around himself stalking down the hallway behind the nurse. The poor woman opened a door and motioned inside, her hand shaking, “Please remove your robes, put on an exam gown, and take a seat. The mediwitch will be in in just a few moments.”
He flicked his hand in dismissal and turned his back to the door. The soft thud of the signaled her departure and a light rustle announced the arrival of his paperwork in the chart bracket on the door. Picking up the thin yellow gown in disgust, he sighed, flipping his hat from his head and letting his hair fall from its hiding place. He struggled out of his clothes and into the thin cloth, resigning himself to impending embarrassment. He had just settled, rather uncomfortably, on the examination table and pulled a blanket over his hips when there was a soft knock on the door.
“Mr. Malforinto? May I come in?” The lilting, lyrical voice called through the door.
He pursed his lips and responded, tersely, “Yes, Doctor.”
A short, neatly dressed woman entered, the heels of her shoes making gentle clicks across the floor. She had his chart in front of her face, studying it but her fine little figure made him groan in pain. Sweet, firm breasts and a delicate waist—hips made for gripping. A modest black pencil skirt enveloped a lovely pair of thighs, soft and round, that drew the eye to tiny feet encased in black pumps.
She turned away from him and sat on a stool, lowering the chart and pulling a quill from a cup on the desk. “Now. What seems to be the trouble?” There was a surprised squeak as she turned around,
“Malfoy?”
“Oh. Oh Gods, no. IT’S YOU!?”
Her pretty little mouth fell agape, the shock in her eyes nearly tangible.
Shutting his eyes tightly, Draco willed himself to disappear, “Please. Please, please go away, Granger. And fetch me someone else.”
He could hear her swallow, “I can’t. I’m the only one on duty right now. And…and I’m a professional. Best in my class. You will be in good hands.”
“Good or not, I don’t want to be in your hands, Granger.” He growled.
Her sweet honeyed eyes narrowed, “That is Doctor to you, Malfoy. And I have a legal obligation to treat you. Now. It states in your chart that you are in immense pain. So either you leave now and suffer, or you sit there—like a real wizard—and tell me what the damn problem is.” Her voice was curt and yet incredibly sexy.
“I…uh. Don’t particularly. Um. Want to tell you that—uh Grang…Doctor Granger.”
She rolled her eyes, “Oh, just. Bloody. Tell me.”
He narrowed his eyes, “Fine,” and whipped the blanket off. Hermione’s eyes flicked down and widened in pure shock.
“I…Uh…oh. OH! Oh? Ohhhh…Um.”
A saucy smile spread slowly across the blonde’s face, “Like what you see there, Doc?” His thick, firm erection stood at attention, saluting the young mediwitch and tenting his hospital gown.
Her wide eyed shock turned to confusion, “How exactly did this—ah…happen? Mr. Malfoy.” His smirk fell slightly.
“Well, let’s just say I have an ex…ah…girlfriend who found this to be quite the little amusement.”
“Do you know what she did to cause this predicament?” Hermione bit her lip, causing a jolt to course down his throbbing cock. That mouth was delectable and he could just imagine it sliding—Draco bit back a groan. Oh—wait, Granger had continued talking.
“Huh?”
Hermione rolled her eyes, “I asked you if there was a spell or potion-an incantation? What happened to cause your problem? I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
He barked a laugh, “Well, I sure as hell don’t doubt that!” She hauled off and punched him in the arm. As she did, a small purple spark ignited and fizzled into a puff of lilac smoke. “OW, GRANGER! You’re supposed to help not hurt, damnit! I don’t know what it was, not a potion—I don’t remember drinking anything. Can you just, uh, make it stop? It’s really quite painful, not to mention rather cumbersome to deal with.”
Hermione sighed and pulled her wand from her pocket, “How long has it been like this?”
“Since last night.” He sighed, “I was attacked after…well…after some compromising words during a particularly intimate moment. The pain was terrible and I passed out. When I woke up this wouldn’t go away.”
She pursed her lips and cleared her throat brusquely, “And have you attempted traditional relief methods?”
“Pardon?” Mirth choked his next words, “Do you mean wanking? Yeah, Granger—I’ve tried several times. Quite energetically, might I add. I could try again if you want me to, but it would probably help if you took those lab robes off and gave me something to think about.” He winked lasciviously, letting his eyes graze down her body and back up to settle on her enraged face.
“FAT CHANCE, MALFOY!” she hissed and punched him again, eliciting another spark flash and more smoke. Hermione looked at her fist curiously as he rubbed the sore spot and glared blatantly at her glorious breasts. They were truly magnificent.
“Shame.” He replied softly. Hermione looked up, startled, and caught his deep, penetrating stare. A raspberry blush grew from the tops of her luscious breasts to the soft rounded apples of her cheeks. The muted groan that escaped from his lips, betrayed a small hint of his lust.
She shifted uncomfortably on her stool and grasped her wand more tightly, “If I could just borrow your memory of what happened, I am sure that I could figure out how to best cure you. I have a pensive right here—would that be okay?”
“Um. No.”
“Seriously? Just give me the memory. It will only take a second and I am sure that I could figure out—“
He put his hands up in a defensive gesture, “Yeah. No. You’re not getting my memory.” He looked away, his face growing warm.
“Give. It.” The pert little mediwitch narrowed her eyes and thrust her wand warningly towards his aching member. “Or I curse it.”
“I. said. NO. GRANGER.” He snarled, his eyes scanning around frantically, looking for an escape route.
“Why? I’m your doctor!”
“No, you’re not!” He bit out, one finger flying to point in her face. “You’re an annoyance in a lab robe and frankly, you’re starting to grate on my nerves.”
“Then just give me the Damn memory,” she hissed, “so I can treat you and kick you the hell out of here.”
He poised, ready to spring from the examination table and flee into the next country, “You want it, Granger? Then you can rip it from my cold. Dead. Body.” His voice was a low, simmering growl and his fingers danced around to grasp the wand tucked in the blanket behind him. Hermione took one glance at his wrist moving backwards and she pounced. Without a second thought she leapt to straddle him and get that memory. She forced him flat on the table, his arms pinned behind his back, and struggled to get her wand near his temple. In the tussle, her skirt rose high on her hips and exposed the warmth between her legs, pressing against his cock and completely obliterating his senses—driving him mad.
“OH. SWEET MERLIN!” He couldn’t stop the thrusting motion of his hips, rutting against her maniacally. “Fuuuuuuuuuuck! Get Off, Granger! I can’t stop!”
“DRACO! STOP!” Hermione squeaked out, struggling to touch her wand to his temple. She had to get it-she had to have that memory or she couldn’t do anything. “Give it to me!”
“Oh, Gods! Say that again!”
“Stay still and give me the memory!”
“If you promise not to move, I’ll give you everything!” His strained moan sounded desperate and uncouth, but he couldn’t care less, her weight felt so warm and alive, writhing against his length. An intense throbbing purple glow enveloped them both as he strained to get his arms out from underneath his back so he could crush her harder to him. “AUGH! FUCK! Take it, just take it!” Draco shuddered violently and his eyes rolled back in their sockets as the shimmering silver strand wormed out of his temple and clung to the end of her wand.
Hermione quickly hopped off him, shot him a haughty look, and huffed. She straightened her skirt before crossing over to the pensive, placing his memory in the swirling water and plunging her face in. Draco cringed, knowing what she was about to see, and buried his face in his hands. Well, she had the damn thing now—he had to stay and maybe she could fix him. And then he could move to another country.
“Oh fuck, yeah. Ungh! Fuck you’re tight! Mmmm…Do you need a spanking, my bad little witch? Fuck yes!” Draco’s left hand was wrapped firmly in the length of her hair, using her ponytail as a bushy set of reigns. His cock was buried balls deep, popping his hips rhythmically and letting his stomach smack against her ass with each thrust. The right hand made contact to her cheek with a sharp stinging sound and she gasped with pleasure.
“Did you like that?” His voice was deep and strangled with need, “Tell me, Lovely.”
“Oh yeah, Draco! I like that!”
“Again.” He growled, “Tell me again!”
She cooed, “Yeah, baby! I liked that! Spank me hard!”
He closed his eyes, “Fuck yeah, you do. Granger.”
The slapping noise stopped and was replaced by an earsplitting screech, “WHAT? YOU FUCKING BASTARD! FUCKWIT! YOU PRICK, YOU FUCKING PRICK! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU!” The angry witch Draco had been pounding into shot off the bed as quickly as if a salamander had ignited beneath her.
Draco groaned at the impending drama and flopped down, rolling onto his back and pursing his lips, “Is this necessary?”
His bored drawl seemed to incense her as she wrestled herself into her underclothes, “You are a foul excuse for a wizard, you pathetic, worthless ass. “
Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed the glass of scotch from where it had been left on the night stand earlier in the evening. He took a short sip and sighed, “Oh, do be quiet, you bloody daft cow. You’re screeching is exhausting.”
Orla Quirke’s eyes glazed over and her bottom lip quivered, “But…I love you.”
“Oh, be honest, Orla. You love my money. You don’t give two fucks about me. All you want is someone to screw you and pay your rent.”
The tears dried instantly and were replaced by cold simmering hatred. “That was low—even for a pathetic excuse for a washed up Death Eater. You’ll never have her, you know. That little mudblood would never want someone like you. You are nothing more than scum. Filth. Not to mention—Granger? Seriously, Malfoy? Are you actually telling me you are still pining for that sad, desperate, homely little frump? That is utterly laughable. We are officially through, you asshole. This is the last time—I’m done.” She hissed this little speech as she roamed around the room collecting her things and shoving them in her purse.
Draco barked a laugh, “Orla. You were the one who came crawling back, remember? A month after you broke up with me and realized you were broke and would have to get a job. You’re the pathetic one. You‘ll never be as smart as she is. Or as beautiful. Clever or caring. Let’s face it—you’ll never be her and that means you’ll never be good enough for me, how very sad for you. And when you come back, and you know you will, I’ll fuck you. And I’ll call you Granger. Every. Fucking. Time.” The victory sip he took was long and refreshing.
Orla’s brown eyes narrowed dangerously. Moments later, Draco was howling in desperate agony and a brilliant purple flash exploded in the room. Then everything went dark.
Hermione lifted away from the pensive and Draco saw her arms move up, her hands placed firmly on either side of the bowl. He peered through his fingers at her for a few moments then mumbled, “I’m sorry.” She replied with silence. “Granger, I’m sorry. I’m really really really sorry.” Slowly she turned around, her lips pressed together and a distant look to her eyes. “Doctor. Doctor Granger. I swear it—I’m really sorry. Please. Will you just…say something?” Draco was beginning to get quite nervous. Was she angry? Upset? Going to curse him?
“Purple?”
“Huh?” Draco glanced up, confused.
“Purple. The sparks. There was a purple flash in your bedroom. Hmmmm…”
Exasperated, Draco threw his hands up, “Granger? Have you gone off? What about the purp…”.
Hermione cut him off and asked brusquely, as she started pacing, “You’ve masturbated today, Draco?”
“Yeah, I already said…”
“And did you finish?”
“Eh?”
“Did you ejaculate?” Her face flushed at those words and she glanced up, looking away from him.
He smirked, “No.”
“Okay. Well, when you masturbated, were there sparks?”
“Huh?”
“Sparks! SPARKS! Sparks Draco, purple sparks? I’m assuming no. Did you see anyone—about your problem? Get a blowjob? Hand job? Did you try to have intercourse?” She continued roaming the room with her finger tapping lightly on her cheek.
He stared at her incredulously, “Merlin’s bloody pants, Granger! I mea—steady on! You can’t just ask a bloke!”
“Oh, answer the damn question, Malfoy!”
Draco blushed and hung his head muttering, “Yes. The first one.”
“Sparks?”
“No.”
She frowned, “Did you?”
“Did I—what? Cum? No, Granger. I didn’t have the pleasure.”
“Hmmmm.”
Slowly, Hermione walked over to him, her heels clicking delicately on the floor with gentle little taps. When she came close enough to touch him, she reached out her finger and placed it on this wrist. Immediately, brilliant purple sparks shot from her fingers to his hand. Draco wrenched his arm away and stared questioningly into Hermione’s eyes. Her brow furrowed and she reached again this time letting her fingers stop just before the skin of his cheek. The light exploded from her fingers and danced before absorbing into his skin.
“Just as I thought.” Hermione sounded distraught, “That is so cruel.”
Draco cringed, “Is it bad? Can you fix it?” Hermione pressed her lips together and was silent, her eyes deep and sorrowful. She turned away and went to the desk in the corner of the room. There was nothing—nothing he could do. He fell back onto the table and willed his eyes to stop watering.
“How many times?” He heard her breathe the words.
“What?” Draco sat up and stared at her back, confused.
“How many times was it me? That you called out my name—pretended it was me there instead of her. Was that just a heartless joke?” Hermione’s voice was tight, caught in her throat. It sounded wounded and cold…and very sad.
He hung his head and wrapped his arms around his body as if suddenly chilled, “Always. Every time. And not just her, but with all of them. Any of them. You saw it, eventually it all went the same way and I said the same speech. They would never be as smart as you, never as beautiful. They would never be you. So they would leave. And then, I would find another and another. But they were never you…” his speech trailed off, becoming hard and embarrassed. “It was never a joke. Just…wishful thinking.” After a moment of silence he chanced a look up to see Hermione staring at him with a look he’d never seen before. At not least in his direction. It was an even mix of sorrow and sympathy.
“You hurt her,” Hermione’s voice was soft and filled with understanding, “but you didn’t mean to. I know what this is Draco. This was to be the ultimate revenge. Do you know what a “Condolesco” spell is?” Draco shook his head, “It’s a nasty little thing all on its own. The Condolesco is cast in order to make another person feel as much pain as possible. It is mostly used to affect the emotions. But, I have a feeling—do you remember hearing Orla say anything odd?”
Draco furrowed his brow and replied, “Now that you mention it—Cupro? Cupriro?”
“Condolesco Cupio?”
“Yeah!”
Hermione looked upset, “Oh! Oh, Draco. I’m so sorry. What you did was unintentional. What she did was plain cruel.”
He bit down on his lip, worrying it with his teeth and asked, “So there’s nothing we can do?”
“Condolesco Cupio—Hurt for your desire. Feel pain for your desire. Orla made sure you would suffer endlessly and with no relief. She cursed you with the one thing you wanted desperately and couldn’t have.”
Draco eyed her warily, “And what exactly would that be, Granger?”
“Exactly.” she replied in a matter of fact tone, “Me.” There was a heavily pregnant pause before he responded.
“You. Have got. To be. Kidding me.”
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes tightly, “Dear Merlin, I wish I was. This is just plain mad.”
“So what?” Draco asked beginning to become annoyed, “she cursed me with a permanent hard on unless I—what? See you? Kiss you? Fuck you?” His voice rose with each question until she snapped back.
“HOW THE HELL SHOULD I KNOW, MALFOY? How the hell do I know what it is you desire? How the hell am I supposed to know what ridiculous fucked up little fantasy you have about me floating around in your twisted little mind? I did NOT sign up for this!”
“Fine!” Draco hissed, thrusting his finger towards the door, “Then get the FUCK OUT of here so I can get dressed and leave!”
With a huff, Hermione’s arms flew to cross in front of her chest as she replied sarcastically, “And do WHAT? Wank the hell out of it until it falls off and plays dead?”
He looked up at her as though she had grown a dragon’s head then began to chuckle, a noise which quickly turned into full blown laughter. Finding the sound contagious, Hermione began to giggle herself, realizing that his laugh was nice. Very nice. After a few moments of ceaseless laughing the pair quieted and Hermione glanced up, her flesh coloring delicately, and she looked away.
“May I try something?”
He smiled sheepishly at her. “Be my guest, Doc.”
She approached him and took his face between her hands. The second her flesh got close, the violent violet sparks flashed and radiated from her skin to his, smoking as it hit his cheek. She leaned in and very delicately placed her lips against his, pressing lightly. A warmth spread from his lips through his body causing a shudder to cascade down his spine. When her lips left his—it felt as though all the oxygen had been sucked from the room and he couldn’t breathe. Her palms were still on his cheeks and gently lit with the same intense glow.
Their eyes met, and exchanged a breath. Seconds later Draco lunged forward desperately, pressing their mouths back together and catching her lower lip between both of his. He pulled Hermione between his knees and wrapped one arm around her lower back, the hand of the other finding her hair and fisting though the mass of soft chestnut curls. She wrapped her own arms around him and moaned, her fingers trailing the soft hairs on the back of his neck. His throbbing cock, caught between them, was being tortured as the most delicious friction quickly escalated. “Fuck, Granger.” The words were a cross between a declaration and a prayer. This above anything else he’d ever experienced was magic.
Hermione placed her hands on his chest and pushed lightly, her face flushing and she gasped, “Draco!” When he looked down into her eyes he saw a mixture of need and fear. Shit.
Draco immediately dropped his hold and looked away ashamed, “I’m sorry.” He felt her fingers at his chin, putting gentle pressure to turn his face back towards her but he resisted and closed his eyes. They were stinging and his cock thrummed painfully, reminding him of his torturous predicament.
“Draco. Don’t be. I’m just…well, a little confused, honestly. You…I always thought you—hated me? So please understand if I’m a bit hesitant to believe all of this.”
He opened his eyes but continued to avert his gaze. For a few seconds Draco allowed silence to seep between them and then took a deep breath, “I wanted to hate you. I truly did. My parents ingrained in me to hate everything you were or ever would be. And it was so easy at first. You were so annoying and nobody seemed to like you. Bossy, rude, and pushy—everyone thought you were awful. And you looked like a beaver—Merlin, Granger, those teeth. And so I did what everyone else did and I teased you. You represented the worst of muggleborns. But you beat me. In every class, at every test…at everything. And eventually you had friends. Real friends.” Draco rolled his eyes and pinched his lips tightly together, “Not ones who liked you for your money or your status…or who were paid to like you.”
He paused to take another breath and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, to reflect. Hermoine bit her own and reached for his hand, squeezing it briefly and eliciting a purple flash, then pulled back as he spoke again, “And then you changed. You became pretty. And you were still so damn smart, it made me seethe. And then, you were beautiful. When I saw you at the ball fourth year, Granger—my Gods—I crushed Pansy’s fingers and I nearly came right then.” Hermoine blushed, still staring at the man who wouldn’t look at her, watching as he shook his head and smiled a little wistfully, “Me and every other bloke. You were not only beautiful…but real. And every damn time I could make those big brown eyes tear up, I considered it a victory. Because it wasn’t fair. It. Wasn’t. Fucking. FAIR! Because you loved them…and you didn’t love me.”
He heard her breath hitch and chanced a look at her. Hermione’s forehead was furrowed and her eyes appeared glassy and bright. When she reached and pressed her fingers to her mouth, he looked away once more.
“I hated myself for that. After all, you were only a pathetic muggleborn and I didn’t care about lesser beings. I certainly shouldn’t give a damn if you loved me or not. But you NEVER stopped touching them. Potty and Weasel—it made my blood boil! And every time they hurt you, all I wanted to do was to hold you—to make them stop. But I couldn’t, so I tormented you more out of frustration. I thought I could make the feelings stop, but it never did. It just made me hate myself more.”
“Draco,” she started, but he interrupted.
“No. Please. Let me finish. I’ve wanted to say this for so long.” He held her gaze and reached to stroke a long lock of hair back from her face, “It nearly killed me. Having to sit, stay, watch, just like a good little Death Eater. And you took it. You lay there on my floor—the floor I played on as a child. You laid there and you screamed. I’ve never heard a sound like it, and I hope never to again. You lay there writhing and screaming and crying. And you did it all for him. There was nothing I could do. She would have killed us both on the spot. As you lay there sobbing, all I wanted was to go to you and stop the pain. But I was a pathetic coward and I knew that it would mean your death. I had never seen anyone as brave as you were that day. I realized that I loved you.”
Hermione put her hand down from her mouth and shook her head saying in a soft reprimand, her eyes tearing, “Malfoy. That’s a bit farfetched, don’t you think? You may have felt sorry for me, but you didn’t love me. You don’t love me.” She looked away, “You don’t even know me.”
“Granger, you’d be surprised. You don’t believe me? Know your enemy and know yourself.” He smirked slightly, “Your middle name is Jean. You were born on September 19^th. Parents are both muggle teeth doctors who were right chuffed you didn’t let them fix your teeth instead of having Pomfrey carry on. You used to have a creepy fat orange cat, which, by its size and temper, had to be part kneazle. And for some unfathomable reason you seem unreasonably attached to long-nosed red headed gits who haven’t the common decency to properly escort you down the aisle. Oh. And your patronus is an otter.”
His ending observation made Hermione giggle but then she sighed, “Draco. None of those things say you know me. They say that you are particularly observant.”
“Did you know your eyes change from that lovely hazelnut brown to a bright intense gold when you’re reading?”
“What?”
“And did you know you nibble on the lower right corner of your mouth when you are learning something new? It’s really very sexy. Also. When you pull your hair up, which you do so very rarely, you have three tiny freckles on the back of your neck that I have longed, desperately, to kiss for years now.” At these words Hermione’s mouth fell open and she stared in blatant shock. “And I have in my keeping a particularly distasteful potato colored hat, badly knit and shapeless, rescued from the bin. The house elf squeaked on an on about the mad knitting mistress who hid the clothes…Dobby laughed and said your name. So I snatched it up. Clever girl, hiding clothes to liberate the one house elf who was free. And it is hideous, I hope you know that.”
He had a small chuckle, smiling as her face became more and more astonished. “I do know you, maybe more than most. I have dreamed of you, desired you, loved you…and I know that’s what got me into this, uh…unfortunate situation in the first place. I have compared every other woman to you and they have always fallen short. I could never hope for your forgiveness—I was too incomprehensibly cruel to you. But I do have to say, Granger, it feels amazing to finally get this off my chest, even if it doesn’t do my—uh—issue any good.”
Hermione’s mouth had dropped open and her blush extended from her hair line, down her luscious breasts, all the way to her toes—he was sure of that. With a quick straightening of her shoulders, Hermione turned swiftly and marched out the door, leaving Draco in utter shock. Oh dear, Merlin! What had he done? He was definitely going to have to leave the city…country even. Possibly planet. Was that even possible yet? What had he done? His fingers groped miserably in his hair and he took a breath. He was never going to live this down. Slowly he stood and gathered his clothes, preparing to disapparate, when the door opened quickly and Hermione slipped back inside, clutching a bag.
She grabbed his hand and flashed him a wicked little grin before spinning them on the spot, purple sparks trailing in their wake. She apparated him to the sweet smelling living room of a cozy looking flat before dropping her bag on the floor and shoving him hard against the wall. In the next second, her hands were in his hair and ad her small sweet mouth pressed firmly against his. Their bodies were alight with a pulsing purple glow.
Every touch of skin to skin was heaven. Draco’s body sang a symphony as her lips trailed from his, down his chin and then opened to suck lightly on his neck. His crumpled clothes fell from to the floor as he raised his hand to grip in her hair, tilting her head back, giving him a better angle to ravage her own neck with his hungry mouth. The other hand worked furiously to relinquish her body from its confines, pulling her medical robes off and dropping them, unceremoniously, at her feet.
A light tickling sensation flowed down his chest and he realized that Hermione had untied his hospital gown to let it slither to the floor. Her hands followed soon after, gripping muscles and trailing feather soft fingers across his already heated skin. He swore he could feel every ridge of her fingerprints gliding across his flesh, leaving a searing pattern he wanted to tattoo all over his body. When one delicate hand reached the waistband of his black silk boxers, he quickly reached and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. Hermione tilted her head up, questioningly, as Draco ground out painfully through clenched teeth, “Be sure. I don’t know if I can stop after this moment. Are you sure? You don’t have to do this, Hermoine.”
A full sunshine grin lit her face at the sound of her given name coming from his lips and she placed her other fingers across his lips, “Doctor’s orders, Malfoy.” She then dropped lightly to her knees, pulling his shorts off on the way down, being careful to pull them around the thick piece protruding from the front. His cock bobbed, red, hard, and aching directly before her shining lips. There was a small intake of breath, a seeming approval, and she licked her lips. Draco was always pleased to admit he was of relative average length, but of substantial thickness. Hermione wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft, then slipped the head of his cock between her petal pink lips.
Draco gasped, his shoulder blades falling back to make contact with the wall. Hermione pulled back, suctioning her cheeks in, as she pulled back to the very tip where she popped the head out to swirl her tongue around the crown. She darted the pointy tip hard against his slit then flattened to lick broad strokes down his length.
His breath hitched, caught in between ecstasy and uncertainty. Never, in all reality, did Draco ever think he would find himself in this situation—with her, his dream. He had spent so many nights imagining exactly this moment. But he wanted it to be real. He wanted a promise, not her pity. He wanted the mornings and the evenings and lazy Sundays and cold winter afternoons with her. He wanted her now and at twenty seven, forty nine, and eighty three. And he wanted this to be not about his affliction but about the potential of forever. It was like a magic he had never known being buried deep in her mouth. But it felt wrong somehow. Like a lie. But he couldn’t stop now.
Every taste bud on her tongue felt like it hit a pore on his skin and Gods, it felt so good! He wasn’t going to last. Hermoine sucked the head hard before sliding her mouth further down his cock and hollowing her cheeks to create a vacuum. Draco tried valiantly not to, but couldn’t help lacing his fingers through her hair lightly and thrusting into her mouth. To his surprise, she pulled her hand from his shaft and allowed him to continue pumping into her sweet warm mouth, the suction pulsing around him. His voice was deep and scratched as he groaned out, “Hermione. Gods! Fuck—pull back! I’m going to…” His voiced cracked, he was going to cum and unless she pulled back, fuck—he couldn’t stop! He hadn’t cum in so long! Her eyes flicked up impishly and one hand went to his hip to hold him, the other to his balls to roll them in her tiny hand.
It was too much. With a horse cry, Draco shot his load directly down her throat. She leaned into him, swallowed hard, and caressed the back of his thighs until his knees began to shake. Draco removed his hand from her hair and stroked her cheek as she pulled back, giving him enough room to slide down her wall onto the rug. She smiled and shut her eyes as he pulled her to his chest and snuggled into his shoulder. A happy hum escaped her lips as he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. He couldn’t stop his heart from racing—this was everything he had ever ever wanted. But what now?
“Did it…did that help? Did I help? How do you feel?”
They both looked down and noticed that while Draco’s cock was no longer the painful throbbing hard as a rock monster it had been for nearly eighteen hours, it was still up and quite hard. He felt tears sting his eyes and he blinked rapidly, staring skyward. “Damnit.”
Hermione leaned forward and kissed his upper lip very gently, a sorrowful, yet determined look in her eye, “Give me just a moment and meet me in the bedroom.” She stood and offered her hand to pull him up.
“You don’t have to do this.” His voice ground out harshly. It was thin and strained with the tightness of his throat. He just wanted to go home and die. Draco looked away from her hand, ashamed. Hermione sighed and grabbed his hand, pulling firmly until he stood. She leaned in and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head on his chest. For a split second, he forgot the world. It was just him and her. Together.
Big brown eyes glanced up and Hermione let go of him to point to a door, “Half a moment. Bedroom is down the hall.” She walked off into the bathroom.
Draco went, as bidden, down the hallway and into her bedroom. It was exceptionally pleasant and inviting. Not a girly room but sophisticated and demure. The walls were painted a light grey with deep plum accents and a thick lush carpet. A simple tidy bed sat against a wall, lovely plum comforter and matching throw pillows. But it looked sad and ill-used. Like something from a muggle catalogue. The one thing that looked well worn was a cream colored chair and beside that, a humongous pile of books. Many spines defined the tomes as magical malady texts. Did the woman ever sleep? He sank slowly into this chair and placed his hands over his eyes, rubbing hard.
“That chair is so old, but I just can’t seem to get rid of it. Comfy, huh?” Draco allowed his hands to drop from his eyes, but the second he had, he wished he hadn’t Now he was never going to be free of her spell. Hermione stood in the doorway clad in a matching bra and pants set of the loveliest jade green. The breasts contained within the cups strained to be released. His eyes flowed down her body, face to soft breasts to belly, the apex of her thighs and down. Oh, sweet Merlin, he must be dreaming…best dream he’d ever had. She was the embodiment of perfection to him; exactly what he’d imagined but infinitely better. Every part was soft and round. He wanted to dive into every crevice and never leave. The dip between her breasts, that delicate indent of her navel and those thighs…he could die happily buried firmly between them.
“Draco?” Her voice shook him from his thoughts. She looked concerned, “Are you alright? Should I take you back to St. Mungo’s?” She had taken his stunned silence for another symptom.
“No.” He replied softly, “You should come here and let me kiss you.” Blushing, Hermione stepped into the room and made her way to Draco. He held out his arms and pulled her gently, carefully onto his lap, placing her to kneel directly over his cock. The entire chair became engulfed in a soft lilac haze. He laced long fingers behind her neck and tugged, raising his mouth up to meet hers. She tasted of spearmint and he grinned, despite his lips on hers. No woman he’d ever been with could ever compare to this. Just the simple act of kissing her was heaven. He reached to cradle one breast in his hand, the weight of it surprising him. At his touch she arched into his palm and sighed, the soft sound cooing into his ear like a kitten. Pulling his lips from hers, he leant forward and mouthed the cup of her bra at her nipple, leaving a moist indication of his hot breath. She drew down the straps, unclasped the back and slid the garment off, barring her full and lovely breasts.
She strained towards him, feeling the strength of his arms as he held on to her at the elbows. There was something he needed to know before he could continue. “Is this because you pity me? Not that I won’t let it continue, but truly, will you…is…is this just…?” He trailed off and held his breath.
Hermione pressed her lips together briefly and tilted her head thinking. Then she said slowly and carefully, “Draco, I don’t pity you. I’m sorry this happened and Orla’s response was a bit harsh, but you did kind of deserve it. I’m doing this not just because it might help—for all we know it won’t. I’m doing this because, well, frankly, because I want to. I have felt more desired in the past two hours than I have felt in my entire life. And that…that was all you. I won’t lie. I have always found you…attractive.” At this a dragon-like grin split his face and she smacked his chest lightly. “Oh, deflate your damn ego! Attractive. Horrible, rotten, selfish, childish, and rude, but attractive, none the less. Never in my wildest dreams could I ever imagine you were thinking about me.”
“Wildest dreams, eh, Granger? You had wild dreams about me?” She pursed her lips and smacked him again, harder. Her breasts jiggled when she did that…Gods, she was going to kill him.
“You knew. You knew it was an otter.”
“What?” Draco was puzzled.
“My patronus,” she spoke softly. Her fingers playing on the arms of the chair, “you knew it was an otter Do you know what he said? ‘Mione, why in bloody hell have you got a ferret pouring from the end of your wand?’ It was a damn OTTER! It was gamboling about, for Merlin’s sake. His was a bloody hyper little lap dog…” she lifted her eyes to stare directly into his eyes. “This is not just for you. This is for me too.” Then she grinned, “So you’d better make it good, or I’m going to tell everybody…”.
He broke off her words by pressing his mouth to hers urgently, thrusting his tongue deeply inside, allowing it to writhe against hers. She moaned and bucked her hips causing stars to burst behind his eyes. Blindly, he reached for that hot vee between her thighs and found the front of the green silk absolutely soaked.
“Oh. Fuck.” Draco latched onto her left nipple, nibbling gently with his teeth as he slid two digits under the leg band to rub her slit. He slid his tongue down her flesh and across to the other nipple, this time sucking it in his mouth and pulling gently. Hermione purred at the light pressure from Draco’s probing fingers and groaned impatiently when the movement disappeared. Her eyes widened as she watched him remove his fingers and slowly sink them deep into his mouth, savoring her taste. His moan spurred her lust and she dug her fingers into his shoulders.
“Please, Draco!”
At her urgent plea, Draco grasped her firmly and stood, taking the three steps to the bed. He deposited her, none too gently, on her back and whisked her silken underwear quickly down her legs. The fingers which had occupied his mouth glided down her stomach and danced lightly across her lips, entering her pussy in one quick motion. He pumped his hand lightly, watching her eyelashes flutter on her cheeks, her mouth open in quick little gasps. Soon each digit was glistening and Hermione squirmed, reaching to grasp his hard, waiting cock, trying with all her might to urge him closer.
Draco chuckled amusedly under his breath, “All right, Love,” and removed his fingers. At the sound of his voice saying, “Love”, Hermione’s face colored and her eyes flew open just as he plunged his cock deep into her warmth. The sound of ecstasy that escaped her lips licked his ear like the tongue of a flame and he pressed his hips flush to hers. Hermione wrapped her legs around his and pushed upwards to meet him thrust for thrust, eagerly grinding her clit against his pubic bone. Draco caught her leg at the back of her thigh and pulled her knee up and over his shoulder.
Each hitched breath kissed his lips and he bent to capture hers with his own. At the shift of the angle, the crown of his cock rubbed that perfect spot on her front wall and a tingling heat began to burn sharply in her cheeks. A tightness flowed through her abdomen and with a sharp gasp, blinding lights erupted behind her eyes. The glowing purple light hummed in their ears and slowly transformed to a periwinkle into an intense sky blue.
“Draco! Oh, Merlin! I’m cumming, Draco!” The gravelly statement escaped from her lips followed by a shrill keening cry. Oh Gods—that sound! Draco dug his fingers into her thigh and slammed deeply into her tightness, each thrust bringing him closer. The intensity grew in his eyes as he gritted his teeth and shoved his fingers back in his mouth before reaching to graze her clit.
“Come on, Doc, cum for me again.”
The sound of her pounding heart thudded in her ears and she gasped, “I can’t, Draco! Oh god! That! OH! Don’t stop! I can’t!” Draco grabbed her chin in his other hand, the pads of his fingers never ceasing their assault on her sensitive clit. He forced her to look at him and narrowed his eyes.
Draco growled, “Do it. NOW.”
Hermione’s mouth opened in a silent scream, her eyes wide and unfocused. The pulsing clench of her inner walls milked his throbbing cock, her orgasm ripping his own from him. A blinding white light grew and surrounded them. A sound like the breaking of a violin string—a shrill hum and then a snap—resonated in the room and then the light flashed and was gone. The weight of his exhaustion became too much and he collapsed atop his savior—his love—burying his face in her hair. Draco sighed softly as tiny delicate hands found their way into the soft hair at the base of his neck and rubbed gently at the tight muscles.
“Granger?” His voice was muffled under her shaggy mane.
“Hmmm?”
“You’re the best prescription ever.” She caught the giggles and it made him smile to hear it. He lifted his head and smirked down at the beautiful face which grinned up at him in exhausted contentment.
“Did…uh…did it work?”
Oh. Yes. The whole reason for…everything. “Hmmm. I suppose we should find out.” Draco propped himself up on his arms and started to pull out of her. Hermione’s legs moved lightning fast and wrapped around his waist.
“Wait. Draco? I need you to know something.”
Draco chuckled lightly and smoothed the bangs from her forehead, “Oh, I could stay inside you all day if you want me to.”
Hermione swatted at his chest and smirked herself, “Well. Yeah…I kinda do. But. I uh…I wanted you to know. That I…uh…if this didn’t help—I mean, if I didn’t um…well—we’re going to figure this out. Together. I’m not going anywhere. Okay? That’s all I wanted to say.” Draco let his hand flow down her face and throat to dance across her clavicle and then wrap around the back of her neck. He pulled her head up and dropped his lips lightly on hers, saying gruffly as he pulled away, “Thanks. Thanks, Granger.”
Draco slid from her body and rolled over onto his back, took a deep breath, and reached down. After a second where Hermione held her breath and bit her lip, Draco threw his hand over his eyes and began to laugh, a deep rolling belly laugh.
“Draco?”
He lifted his hand and moved quickly, rolling back on top of Hermione where he proceeded to pepper her face with kisses.
“YOU! Bloody! Brilliant! Amazing! Gorgeous! Witch!” He punctuated each word with a peck then attacked her lips. When they pulled apart, Hermione smiled up at him and seeing his eyes swimming in unshed tears, placed her fingers on his cheek.
“I’m so glad.”
Draco pressed a last kiss to her forehead and cradled her face in his hands, “Hey, Doc? Thanks.”
Hermione rolled her eyes and giggled, “Don’t call me that, Mr. Malforinto.”
Draco groaned, “Eh. Yeah—not one of my better moments. I should apologize to your nurse.” He looked away and bit his lip lightly, “So, um, Hermione. Does this mean…can I see you again? Without the fancy hospital dress? I look a lot better in trousers, I promise. Will you let me take you out properly, get to know me better?” He said all this very quietly, as though suddenly afraid. “What do you say, Little Otter?”
Hermione drew up and kissed him very softly, “I’ll tell you what—I will let you take me out on one condition.”
Draco eyed her apprehensively and drawled, “Yesss?”
“You have to owl Orla and apologize.”
He cringed and nodded, “Okay. Small price. I’ll do it today.” He pulled her to hand to him and nipped her wrist with his teeth, eliciting a little gasp and a soft little growl.
“Oh. And get me her address?” Hermione grinned devilishly at his flabbergasted stare as she stood and stretched, in her full naked beauty, before walking to the door and glancing back, “I want to send her a gift basket for sending me such a sexy patient. Doctor’s orders.”
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Doctor's Orders