Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Dare	By : Tassanaburrfoot Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 82898 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 11
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. Don't own any of the characters. Am not making a profit.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
As they got onto the train, somehow the idea of train sex must have slipped their minds. Hermione gave Ginny and Harry a hug before finding a compartment with Draco and his small gang of Slytherins. Once situated inside, Draco began telling Hermione all she needed to know about Malfoy Manor.

“It’s not really a place you want to go wandering around in,” he said. “Especially alone. In time, I’m sure it would be fine, but at first, you want someone with you.”

While Hermione wasn’t afraid of anything, she knew the Manor was home to several Dark items, pretty much all of which was uncategorized and unknown by the Ministry. She took Draco’s warning to heart and nodded gravely.

“When we get there, though,” he continued, leaning back and resting an arm around the Muggle born’s shoulders, “you’ll have to remind me to show you the library. We have a massive collection of books, many first and even second editions and practically all purchased when they were first printed.”

“You’re joking,” she gasped.

He shook his head. “Not at all,” he said. “As I’ve said before, my family dates back a few hundred years or so. As such, we’ve managed to gather quite the collection. And we don’t discriminate between Light and Dark either, so some of the books are quite Dark in nature.”

“Bet you don’t own any Muggle books,” she pointed out.

He frowned. “If we do, I haven’t seen any,” he answered honestly. “But there may be a few here and there.”

“We don’t really have a library at my house,” she told him, changing the subject. “And I’m sure my home is considerably smaller than yours, but its cosy. Father has spoken of an ancient history, but he never really goes into detail much, even when I ask.”

He smirked slightly at that and waved a hand up in the air. “We have an entire hall lined with portraits of past Malfoys,” he said. “And all the way at the end, there’s a room filled with hundreds of scrolls and documents. Recordings of our family history.” He gave her a troubled look. “It can be quite daunting at times. I remember when I was younger, my father would bring me down that hallway and go on for ages of our great history.” He wrinkled his nose. “To be honest, I don’t remember a damn thing he said, though it is nice to go there and see my grandfather at times.”

She giggled. “I think the proudest achievement my family ever made was my great grandfather and grandfather’s parts in the World Wars. I’m sure there are other things as well. My mother used to hint that her family was originally from France, but we rarely talk about it.”

“We never travelled much when I was a boy, though I wanted to,” he told her. “I wasn’t the healthiest of infants and my mother worried that I would catch something and become fatally ill.”

“Oh, we’ve been all over,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder. “Paris, the Outback. There was the one time we went to Egypt, but that was before I learned I was a witch. Going skiing in the Alps was fantastic.”

They rambled back and forth for hours before Hermione ended up falling asleep in his arms. He didn’t say anything when he heard her sigh, the signal that she was asleep. He glanced at Zabini who was sitting across from him. “What is it?” he asked when he realized the dark Slytherin was staring at him.

Zabini’s eyebrows lifted. “Nothing,” he said. “Just listening to you two. I didn’t think she’d ever stop talking.”

“It’s interesting, you know?” Nott said. “Learning all these things about Muggles. I never knew there had been two ‘World Wars’ nor did I know that they were only a couple years apart.”

“There are books on the subject, mate,” Draco drawled. “Eye witness accounts, voice recordings… There’s a museum in London called the ‘Imperial War Museum’ that has vast amounts of information on different wars the Muggles have fought.”

“Maybe we should check them out over the summer,” Nott suggested. “I suppose your parents never brought you to any of them?”

Draco shrugged. “To be honest, I really wasn’t all that interested,” he replied. He glanced down at the sleeping girl. “But I don’t see how it would hurt.”

“When do you plan to propose?” Zabini asked.

The blond frowned at the question. “I haven’t decided yet, really,” he said. “Mostly, I’m waiting for the right moment. Maybe after I meet her parents as I doubt she would agree otherwise.”

“Don’t wait too long, Malfoy,” the dark skinned boy warned.

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Why? Fancy you’ve got a shot with her?”

“No, I don’t,” Zabini answered. “I just…”

Hermione stirred and the conversation dropped as Draco turned his attention to his witch. She yawned and blinked her eyes open. “Are we there yet?” she asked.

“Almost, princess,” Draco purred. “Are you comfortable?”

In response, she buried her face in his chest and snuggled up closer to him. “You smell nice,” she said with a sigh.

The blond smiled as he listened to her breathing evenly again. He ran his fingers through her hair, careful not to get them tangled up before his eyes glanced back up at Zabini. “Remember my warning, mate,” he growled softly at the boy. “Granger is my girl and I’ll be damned if anyone tries to take her away from me.”

(II)(II)

The platform was bustling with people as they exited off the train. Ginny and Harry each gave Hermione a hug, though Harry lingered for a bit, whispering in her ear, “If anything bad happens, let me know. You don’t have to be afraid to tell me.”

Hermione laughed and patted his chest. “Oh, Harry,” she lightly teased. “You worry over nothing. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”

“Send me an owl when you get there?” Ginny requested. “Just so I know you both made it safely.”

The Muggle born shook her head. “I’ll try, but I’m sure we’re going to be quite busy. Happy Christmas to you both.”

Ginny giggled. “You too! Try not to come back to Hogwarts pregnant, ok?”

That time Hermione did laugh. She glanced up at Draco who was bidding farewell to his own friends. “We’ll be there, mate,” Nott told him as he jumped onto a carriage.

Hermione looked at her boyfriend curiously. “They’ll be where?” she asked.

“The celebration,” he answered. A quick glance around and he found his mother. Smiling, Draco took Hermione’s hand and led her down the walkway towards the elder witch.

“Oh, Draco, darling!” Narcissa gushed as she embraced her son and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

“Mother,” he replied, returning her hug and kiss.

Narcissa turned to the Muggle born witch. “And you must be Hermione Granger,” she stated, glancing at her son for confirmation. At his slight nod, she turned her attention back to the girl.

The Muggle born inclined her head and smiled. “Yes, ma’am,” she said. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

The Pureblood witch’s eyes glided over the girl and seemed to access her. “Draco, will you be sharing a room or should I have the house elves prepare a separate room for Miss Granger?” she asked, her eyes not leaving the younger witch.

“I would prefer it if she stayed with me, Mother, if it’s all the same,” he told her. “Granger’s not really used to manors and I would hate for her to get lost.”

Narcissa hummed. “And are you protected, Miss Granger?” she asked.

Hermione’s brows knitted together at the question. “I’m sorry?”

“Are you on something to prevent you from becoming pregnant, my dear?” the older witch rephrased, her lips pinching together.

The Muggle born’s eyes widened and she blushed. “Oh! Yes, ma’am,” she replied. “Though Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape had insisted, I had started the preventions earlier the day we spoke.”

Narcissa frowned. “Good,” she said. “It would be unseemly for Draco to have a child before he has finished school. I haven’t a doubt your parents would agree with me, too.”

Hermione nodded. “Oh, yes, ma’am,” she said. “My mother and I had that talk years ago and I made a promise that I wouldn’t have children until I was properly married at least.”

At this, the older woman gave a tight smile. “I would expect no less from nobility,” she said.

Even more confused, Hermione glanced at the wizard as a car pulled up. Before she had time to respond to Narcissa’s comment, the older witch stated, “We’re to meet your father outside of Tidworth.”

Draco tilted his head. “Why?” he asked.

The witch sighed. “I learned a long time ago that it’s quite useless to question him about such things,” she said tiredly as the driver got out of the car and loaded their bags. Draco helped the ladies into the car, first his mother and then Hermione. “Supposedly he has some sort of surprise in store for us all, though what it could be I can hardly imagine.”

Draco climbed into the car and all three of them fastened their seat belts. “I hope he hasn’t bought some new pet,” he groused. “Those bloody peacocks are a menace.”

“Peacocks?” Hermione questioned, a smile playing on her lips.

Draco rolled his eyes. “My father has an obsession with creatures he considers ‘rare and beautiful’,” he explained.

“Like Hagrid?”

Frowning, Draco scoffed. “No, I said ‘rare and beautiful’, not ‘monstrous and dangerous’. Sweet Merlin’s underpants, Granger! He’s not suicidal,” he proclaimed.

“Language, Draco,” Narcissa chimed. “Though I doubt it’s a new animal. I think he learned his lesson with the peacocks.”

Hermione covered her giggle with her hand. “It’s brilliant,” she said, laughing. “And quite fitting, I might add. No offense, of course, but he does strike me as a bit of a peacock himself, doesn’t he?”

Draco raised an eyebrow, but it was Narcissa who answered, “Sometimes. Mostly he just likes pretty things.”

The rest of the car ride was quiet, though Hermione wouldn’t really call it uncomfortable, per se. More like, she was a bit bored. She was actually scared to touch Draco while sitting next to his mother and she honestly had no idea what to say or how to strike up a conversation. “Draco’s told me so much about the Manor,” she started lamely.

The wizard flashed her a small smile as Narcissa inclined her head. “I’m sure,” the witch replied. “And he’s probably told you about the various rooms and parts he enjoyed as a child.”

Hermione smiled and nodded. “Oh, yes, ma’am, he did,” she stated.

“Well, not all the parts,” he conceded with a shrug.

The Muggle born looked at him. “What did you leave out?” she asked curiously.

“Quite a few things,” he said, turning his gaze to her. “Some of which could be…”

“What did he do?” his mother interrupted abruptly.

The young couple both looked at her to see her staring out the window with wide eyes. They followed her line of sight to see Lucius Malfoy perched atop a white carriage pulled by two large dapple grey horses. A smile curled up Hermione’s lips, though Draco frowned. “I really hope that’s a rental,” he growled as the car stopped.

The moment she managed to get her seat belt off, Narcissa opened the door closest to her and stepped out onto the wintry path. “Lucius!” she hissed.

The blond wizard pulled the horses to a stop and climbed down from the carriage. “Hello, darling,” he greeted with a large smile.

“What is this?” his wife demanded as she stomped up to him. “A horse drawn carriage?”

He glanced at the carriage as he pulled his gloves off and tapped his walking stick on the ground. “I do believe so,” he told her. “Though, the Muggle I purchased it from could easily have been trying to take the Mickey out of me.”

Awed, Hermione approached the horses and managed to touch the one closest to her on the neck. “Did you really buy these from a Muggle, Mr. Malfoy?” she asked, petting the animal.

Lucius smiled. “I did,” he admitted, proudly. “With actual Muggle money, too.” He turned to his wife and held out his arm. “Shall we, my dear? It is dreadfully cold and we still have a bit to go.”

Narcissa huffed, but took her husband’s arm. “I’ve asked you not to buy any more animals, Lucius, and yet you insist…”

“Now is not the time to berate me, darling,” he warned her. “Just come and enjoy the ride.” He helped his wife onto the seat at the front of the carriage and turned to the younger couple. “Miss Granger, I fear the first time we met had been tainted and for that, I do hope you can forgive me.”

She glanced at him with her hand still on the horse. “Well, in your defence, you were busy arguing with Mr. Weasley about my Muggle parents. Or was it his inability to provide his children with something a bit nicer than second hand books?”

The older wizard inclined his head. “I can’t say I recall that much, but it does sound like something I would do. Again, I apologize.”

Hermione dropped her hand from the horse’s neck. “Perhaps we should start over again?” she suggested a bit tiredly.

“Indeed,” he agreed. “Miss Granger, your grace is astounding.” He held his hand out to her. She eyed it for a moment before placing her hand atop it. He gently lifted her hand up and kissed the back of it. “I do hope you enjoy your stay at the Manor.” He gave her a smile and a wink and released her.

A small blush crept along her cheeks as she turned back to Draco. He helped her into the carriage and covered her with a blanket. She smiled softly at him as he climbed in next to her. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed the top of her head and asked, “Are you warm enough?”

The carriage jerked to a start and she snuggled up to him. “A warming charm would be nice,” she breathed into his chest.

He smirked. “Yes it would,” he agreed. “You do know I’m sixteen, right?”

Her eyes widened as she sat up. “You can’t do magic outside of school,” she told him. He nodded and she pulled out her own wand. She did the incantations, warming up their blanket, and rested against him.

She really wanted to go back to sleep, but she had never been in this part of the country before. Her eyes lit up as she watched various homes and gardens pass them by. It was a relatively busy time of the day and cars and trucks of all shapes and sizes passed them by as well.

“We seem to be going much faster than one would expect a horse drawn carriage to go,” she observed.

Draco glanced at the passing cars and shrugged. “Father’s probably enchanted it,” he told her. “Otherwise, it would take us ages to get home.”

She smiled at him and rested her head on his shoulder. The warmth of the blanket, the feel of his body next to hers, and the gentle rocking of the carriage lulled her into a light sleep. In her dreams, she could see herself dancing in her beautiful dress robes. Wizards and witches were everywhere, but the only one that really mattered to her was Draco.

“He will hurt you,” whispered a dark, evil voice, and quickly, the scene changed.

Hermione was now dressed in tattered clothing and was chained to a wall. Her wand lay broken at her feet and a man she barely recognized stood before her, laughing. “Filthy little Mudblood,” he said viciously. He spat at her. “’The brightest witch of her age’,” he mocked. “And yet you so easily fell for me. So easily fell into my trap and now look at you!”

He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. “I’m going to fuck you, slag,” he promised her. “And when I’m done, you’ll be passed along to every bloke who wants to know what it’s like to fuck a Mudblood.”

She gasped and her eyes snapped open. She lifted her head up quickly, accidentally banging against Draco’s chin, causing him to yelp. “Merlin, Granger!” he yelled, grabbing his chin and rubbing it.

“I’m sorry!” she said, looking at him and reaching out a hand to touch his face.

He pulled his face out of her reach and stared at her grumpily. “Mind telling me what that was about?” he asked, still rubbing his chin.

“I had a horrid dream,” she told him. “I…”

“We share a bed every night and now you have the bad dreams?” he said with a scoff.

She frowned. “It’s not like I choose when to dream, Draco. Or even what to dream about,” she told him. “Most days, I pray that I won’t dream at all, but I don’t really get that choice.”

“Miss Granger,” Lucius called from the front and the Muggle born perked up.

“Yes?” she said, raising her voice against the wind.

The Pureblood glanced back to see that she was looking at him and pointed at a mound of snow off to the right. “Beyond that hill, you’ll get the first sightings of Malfoy Manor,” he told her. “Muggles can’t see it, obviously, but you should be able to.”

She sat up eagerly at that and focused on the snow covered hill. She could see the bits of grass peeking out of it and smiled in satisfaction. But the sight that crept up before her stole her breath away.

The massive manor looked like it had been snatched right off of one of Thomas Kinkade’s paintings. The front garden and roof top were blanketed in snow as snowflakes continued to fall in front of it. She actually saw what looked like some sort of deer grazing in the yard, but its body blocked the view of its head.

Hermione touched Draco’s arm. “Is that a caribou?” she asked, pointing at the creature in question.

He glanced at it and then at her. “Have you ever seen a caribou with a tail like that?” he replied with a tilt of his head. “No. That’s a unicorn.”

Her eyes widened as the creature turned ever so slightly to reveal its more equine features. Then it picked its head up and looked towards them and she sighed. “What a beautiful creature!” she breathed as the animal reared on its hind legs and took off towards the side of the manor at a gallop.

He smirked as he leaned back in his seat. Then a thought struck her and she shook her head. “Wait. Caribou are brown, not white,” she hissed at herself.

Draco chuckled. “Actually, we have a small herd of albino caribou,” he told her, “so you weren’t completely off the mark.”

She stared at him in astonishment. “You do?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Father enjoys collecting rare and beautiful animals,” he drawled. “Albino peacocks and caribou, unicorns… We even own a small stable of winged horses. My father is one of the leading breeders of the finest derby horses in all of Britain.”

“Derby horses?” she repeated curiously.

He nodded. “I’ll have to bring you to a match one day,” he told her. “You didn’t think Quidditch was the only sport in the Wizarding World, did you?”

She frowned. “I suppose not, but it certainly is the most popular.”

“As football is in the Muggle World,” he pointed out. “But surely there are other Muggle sports besides football?”

She smiled a bit and nodded. “There are,” she confirmed. “And the fact that you’ve heard of football actually impresses me.”

“There is a Muggle village close by the manor,” he explained, “with a Wizard street, much like Diagon Alley. My mum used to bring me there for robe fittings and to buy toys and sweets. Sometimes I would catch a bit of Muggle conversation and ask her about it. Mind, I have very little, if any, knowledge of what football actually is, but I do know that it’s a popular sport among Muggles. Football and… rugby, I believe it’s called?”

She nodded, but her attention was drawn away from him as the gates to the Manor opened and the carriage drove through. Hermione remembered a trip to America when she was a little girl. Her parents had taken her to one of the plantations in the state of Louisiana and she had been impressed with how beautiful it had been.

Perhaps it was the snow, but the Muggle born couldn’t help but to think that this Manor put the little plantation to shame. It was much more massive up close and she could see the details etched into the gargoyles that stood like stone guards on either side of the stone portico. As Draco helped her from the carriage she found herself admiring as the gargoyles seemed to watch her.

“Careful, princess,” the young wizard warned. “They’ll grow suspicious if you stare too long.”

She looked away from them to gaze at him, her eyes beaming. “You’ve proven me wrong, love,” she told him. “I swore to Harry that I wouldn’t be impressed, but I am and I haven’t even been inside yet.”

He smirked and leaned into her to whisper, “Don’t let my father hear you say that.”

She giggled as he wrapped a protective arm around her waist and led her towards the manor. As beautiful as the outside was, the inside of the manor was even more so. It was dark and foreboding, sure. Hermione had no doubt that the low lights and dark banisters were meant to intimidate people.

“I feel as though I should ask you to forgive me, Miss Granger,” Lucius drawled as he stopped once they were all inside. “I would indulge you in a tour, however years of service to the Dark Lord has rendered much of my home quite intolerable of Muggle borns. My wife and I have been working to correct that since Draco has informed us of your budding romance, but these things do take time.”

Hermione nodded. “Draco did warn me about wandering around alone,” she told him. “Your Manor is fascinating, but while the inner Gryffindor in me wants nothing more than to explore, I understand the need for caution. I’ve already agreed with Draco that I wouldn’t try to go anywhere alone.”

“Indeed,” the man said with a lift of a single brow. “Well, if you would like, I do have a book about the Manor that I will let you read. It speaks not only of the history of the Manor, but also of our family. I believe you’ll find it quite intriguing.”

She perked up at that. “I do love learning,” she told him with a bright smile.

His chuckle was echoed by Draco as the older wizard added, “Then it’s settled. I’ll have the book retrieved and sitting on Draco’s desk by the time we’ve finished eating. For now, I do believe we should start getting ready for supper.”

“Your bags should be in your rooms by now, Draco,” Narcissa commented. “Supper will be at the usual time.”

The young man inclined his head. “I trust Granger’s rooms are next to mine?” he inquired with a tilt of his head.

Lucius frowned. “Next to yours?” he repeated. “We thought she would be staying in your rooms.”

Draco shrugged, both of his eyebrows raised. “Well, yeah, but…”

“My dear boy, do be sensible,” the older wizard replied. “What would be the point in setting up a whole new set of rooms for her when she would hardly be in it? It would be a waste. We simply expanded your rooms to accommodate Miss Granger’s feminine needs.”

“Oh, and, Miss Granger,” Narcissa added, “I know you were measured and had tried on a few outfits from Joceline’s boutique in Hogsmeade.”

“Yes, ma’am, I did,” Hermione replied. “But I didn’t really care for the service there and told Draco that I had no intention of wearing anything that woman made. She was insulting, rude, and just a really unpleasant woman.”

“So Draco informed me,” Narcissa replied. “I have pulled my account with her and informed her personally that I will no longer do business with her since she felt it so prudent to insult my son’s love.”

Hermione’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, but Narcissa waved a dismissive hand.

“Nonsense,” the older woman commented. “Hasn’t Draco mentioned how smitten he is with you, darling? An insult on you is an insult to him and, by association, to our family. Besides, that woman has been trying to peddle one of her daughters off on Draco for years now, and knowing she attempted to do so, in your presence no less, has left a rather bitter taste in my mouth.”

The Muggle born blinked as she watched the witch’s eyes narrow and her nose wrinkle in distaste. For as long as she’d known them, the Malfoys have been proud Purebloods and spoke quite clearly and without apology about their dislike for Muggles and Muggle borns. To hear Narcissa’s words and to see even Lucius look outraged at what his wife said was beyond her.

“The woman is daft,” the patriarch growled. “I’ve been wanting you to be rid of her for months now, Cissy, and I’m glad you finally are.”

In complete confusion, Hermione glanced at her boyfriend. He gave her a wink. “You’ll learn very quickly, princess, that my family protects our own and those we care about,” he told her, kissing the top of her head.

She nodded slowly. “My family is much the same,” she said honestly.

The look Lucius gave her was one of immense, seemingly genuine curiosity as he stated, “I don’t know when the last time it was that I entertained Muggles.”

The Muggle born’s eyes widened. “Have you ever?” she asked without thinking. Her lips pinched together when she realized what she had said. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean…” she stammered.

Lucius inclined his head. “No, my dear,” he said, lifting a hand to quiet her apology. “You’re right. I joined the ranks of the Death Eaters right out of Hogwarts and for many years, I truly believed the propaganda the Dark Lord and even my own father preached. So much so, that I tried to inspire my own son to follow in my footsteps.” He leaned on his walking stick slightly. “However, as a boy, I would often wander into the Muggle village nearby to play with the children there. I was, like Draco, an only child, so playmates were hard to come by unless one of my father’s friends stopped by with their children.”

“But you still hate Muggles,” she pressed with a frown.

“The majority, yes,” he admitted. “But not individually. There are certain Muggles, as there are certain Purebloods that are easier to tolerate than others. Not to mention there are benefits in doing so as well. Those Muggles I befriended all those years ago I believe still consider me a friend of theirs.”

Her eyebrows raised. “You mean they’re still alive?”

He shrugged. “Naturally,” he said. “As Draco has already stated, we protect those we care about.”

She nodded her head and opened her mouth to speak when Narcissa cut her off. “Come now, darling,” the woman said, touching her husband’s shoulder. “I doubt Miss Granger is all that interested in your dealings with the local Muggles. We should let her and Draco go and unpack.” She glanced at Draco. “Supper’s at 7, my dear. Try not to be late?” She gave him a soft smile which he returned.

“We won’t be, Mother,” he replied as he took Hermione’s hand and began leading her away.

She glanced at her boyfriend curiously. “But I wasn’t done talking to your father,” she said, a whine evident in her voice.

Draco rolled his eyes. “You’ll have plenty of time to talk to him, princess. For now, let’s get upstairs so we can shower and dress.”

(III)(III)

Draco had wanted to shower with her, citing that they could get done much quicker, but the idea made Hermione nervous and she insisted on taking turns. After much arguing, he reluctantly agreed, knowing they had already wasted too much time. She was nearly finished with her shower when she heard the door open and close.

“Draco? Is that you?” she asked over the sound of the water.

“Who else would it be?” came his irritated answer. “I’m going to the main drawing room while we wait for dinner. My mother wanted to speak with me a moment. When you’re ready to come down, call Basal and he’ll either come get me or escort you to the drawing room.”

She frowned, not really caring for the idea of calling on a house-elf. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait? It’ll only take me a few minutes to dress.”

She heard him sigh. “Nothing would please me more than to watch you dress,” he confessed. “A sort of reverse striptease, if you will, but my mother insisted on speaking to me alone.”

She pressed her lips together for a moment. “Alright,” she finally agreed. “I’ll let Basal know when I’m done.”

She heard the door open and close again and peeked from behind the shower curtain. Her frown deepened. Not even a goodbye or “I love you”? She sniffed and pulled back into the shower. Well, that was rude, but she was content in the idea of spending a few more minutes in the deliciously steaming hot water.

(IV)(IV)

“You wanted to speak with me, Mother?” Draco asked as he entered the drawing room. He stopped by a mirror to check that his hair was in place.

“I did,” she answered. He glanced at her to see her holding a vial between her thumb and pointer. His father stood at the piano, looking disgruntled. “Mind telling me what this is, Son?” she clipped, raising a brow.

Draco crossed the room, eying the small bottle curiously. Holding out his hand, she gave it to him and he raised it up into the light to get a better look. Frowning, the young man handed the bottle back to his mother. “It looks like one of the potions Father uses for recreational purposes,” he replied. “Though what…”

“This potion is a lust potion and will negate your Muggle born’s attempts to protect herself from getting pregnant,” the woman growled. “Your father intended to slip it into her pumpkin juice tomorrow night at the party in hopes that you would impregnate her.”

Draco glanced at his father eagerly. “You found it then? We should probably…” He had reached for the potion again, but his mother snatched her hand away and interrupted him.

“You should do nothing!” she hissed. Holding the potion in one hand, she pointed at the door with her other. “Do you realize the disaster you and your father’s foolish plan can cause if that girl became pregnant?! She thinks she’s protected!”

“Which is the beauty of it,” he said, though he wasn’t smiling anymore. He tried taking the potion from his mother again, but she, again, blocked him. “If we gave that to her…”

“She would never forgive you, Draco,” his mother snarled. When he opened his mouth to protest, she held up a hand to stop him. “Do you understand? She will never forgive you. She is well on her way to being Head Girl, as you are to being Head Boy. Do you honestly believe you’ll keep those titles if she ends up pregnant? Use your head, boy!”

“Cissy, she’s Merlin’s descendent,” Lucius tried to reason.

“And the descendent of kings and queens,” she snapped, glaring at her husband. “If you want her in this family, you need to think rationally. Impregnating the girl at this juncture is a foolish notion that will see Draco without a wife and without a proper heir.” She turned back to her son. “Graduate Hogwarts and marry the strumpet. Then you can impregnate her.”

Draco clenched his fists at his sides and narrowed his eyes at the older witch. “I need to solidify our union,” he told her measuredly. “We’re planning on doing the binding tomorrow night. That includes an attempt at impregnation.”

“If you want to bind her, you’re better off doing so by minding your ps and qs and continuing to work your charm,” she hissed. “Giving her this potion would be a one way ticket to Azkaban and would leave our family in ruins that we can never dig ourselves out of. It’s bad enough the whole Wizarding World thinks we’re still in league with the Dark Lord and his followers…”

“The Dark Lord is dead,” Lucius pointed out.

Narcissa threw the bottle into the fire and rounded on her husband. “And you better bloody well remember it! You can’t keep thinking like a Death Eater, Lucius! Draco is doing fine without this meddling crap you’re doing.”

“She won’t even know. Won’t even remember…”

“Lucius Malfoy, I swear if you finish that sentence, I will hex you,” the woman warned with a sneer. “Do you think she wouldn’t figure it out? She’s not called the brightest witch of her age because her eyes sparkle. You give her that bloody potion and she will find out and she will leave.”

“That’s why we do the binding,” Lucius said softly. “Do the binding, he gets her pregnant, and there is nothing she can do.”

“And trust? Love? When exactly do those come into play?”

“Those are Gryffindor notions that will come with time when she realizes it was all done for the best,” Lucius explained.

A miniature explosion happened in the fireplace as the bottle busted. Narcissa took a moment to straighten her robes and pat her hair to make sure it was in place. “Draco, I’m telling you now,” she said with a measure of calmness and poise as she looked at her son. “If you want the girl completely, you will not listen to your father’s hare-brained ideas. Doing what he suggests will only make her hate you. You graduate in a year and a half and next year, you’ll be Head Boy. If she gets pregnant, you’ll both be stripped of your titles and forced into the same predicament Miss Brown and that pauper are currently in.”

“There’s a difference, Mother,” the boy argued as a bit of his hair fell into his eyes. He pushed it back angrily. “I’m not a pauper.”

“You will be if you don’t straighten up and start acting right!” she snapped, throwing both men off guard.

“Cissy?” Lucius tried. “What are you implying?”

She shook her head. “I’m not implying anything,” she said with a sniff, holding her head high. “It’s a warning. To both of you. There are forces at work here that hold far more sway than what either of you could hope to imagine.”

A loud crack! interrupted them and they looked to see the little house elf with big brown eyes named Basal standing there. “The Mudblood’s ready, Master,” he said, bowing low.

Draco glared at the elf. “You better not have used that term in front of her,” he growled. “And I better not hear it from you again. Understand, Basal? That is my wife and she will be respected.”

The house elf glanced at the boy warily. Looking from him to the other two Malfoys, he bowed his head. “My apologies, Master Draco,” he said contritely. “Basal will go iron his hands now.”

“See that you do,” Draco huffed. “And make sure you heal them after. I don’t want Hermione going on about how we abuse our house elves.”

(V)(V)

Draco opened the door to his bedroom, knocking on the frame. “Granger?” he called. He heard her moving about in the bathroom and let himself into the room, shutting the door behind him.

The room looked just the way he had left it, minus the overnight bag propped open on the bed. He stepped towards the bag and fingered a blue and black lace thong. His brows furrowed as he tried to remember if he had ever seen those on her. He didn’t think he had and made a mental note to bring it up to her at a later date. She couldn’t have sexy underwear and not model them for him! He glanced up when he heard the bathroom door open and dropped the thongs.

Hermione, for her part, was in heaven. Draco’s room was much like any other boy’s room, covered in House pride and his favourite Quidditch team, Puddlemore United. The dark furniture accented the greens and greys and the smell of his favourite cologne, which was a mixture of patchouli, sandlewood, and musk, and something that was entirely Draco permeated the air.

The bathroom had been enchanting, with its pool sized porcelain tub and ivory marble counters and white, shaggy rugs. The shower had been separate from the tub. It’s stainless steel fastenings and faucet gleaming like silver in the low lights of the room. There was even a silver gilded vanity where he kept his colognes, hair products, and comb neatly placed. She had giggled at the sight, but then moaned when she picked up a bottle of his cologne and breathed in the scent.

She knew they were on a schedule, but Hermione just couldn’t find the desire to rush through her shower. Everything needed to be explored and her fingers itched to look at the shelves she had spied in his room.

Once she was finished with her shower, Hermione had pulled on some undergarments and a form fitting emerald green dress that stopped right above her knees before disappearing back into the bathroom, armed with her toothbrush and toothpaste. She hadn’t put her heels on yet, opting to put them on last as heels tended to hurt her feet.

Finished with the bathroom, she walked back out to put her effects back into her bag. She jumped when she saw Draco standing by the four poster bed, leaning casually against one of the posts. His eyes had a predatory glint in them as he stared at her that made Hermione’s stomach flutter and knot at the same time while shivers ran down her spine.

His brow lifted and the corner of his lip turned up in a sexy smirk. “You look beautiful, princess,” he told her and she could feel the blush on her cheeks. “However, I’m not sure that is the most appropriate attire.”

She looked at him curiously as he pushed himself off the post and stalked towards her as though she were a tasty morsel. His fingers brushed along her waist, causing her to shiver again. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” she asked breathlessly.

His smirk widened and he dipped his head closer to her so he breathed against her neck. “It’s not long enough,” he explained in a seductive whisper. A bit of wandless, wordless magic from him and her short dress lengthened so the bottom of it brushed the floor. He kissed her neck. “That’s better.”

She felt her eyes flutter closed as he continued to tease her neck, his hands resting lightly on her waist. He felt so good, kissing the sensitive spot on her neck that he had come to know so well. “I want you so bad,” he breathed against her wet skin causing her to shiver. Her hands, which had been resting on his chest, moved upward, her fingers slipping into his soft, silky locks. He chuckled as he took a step back, pulling her along with him.

His arms wrapped around her waist, causing them both to be flush against one another and she could clearly feel his raging hard on poking at her stomach. She gave a soft moan and rasped, “Happy to see me?”

Surprised by her bluntness, he pulled away slightly so he could look into her eyes. She blinked and warm honey met a darkening storm. A slow smile curled his lips. “Such a naughty tongue, my sweet lioness,” he teased.

She raised an eyebrow and, in perfect Malfoy fashion, replied, “When you’re surrounded by snakes, you learn a few things.”

“Mmmm, and what sort of things have you been learning, my intelligent princess?” he asked, his eyes hooded.

She gave a little giggle, but right as she was about to answer him, a loud crack! interrupted them. She watched as Draco’s face transformed into one of sheer irritation as he growled, “You better have a good reason for interrupting us, Basal.”

“Yes, Master Draco,” the elf squeaked as it bowed. “My Mistress has asked Basal to retrieve you, sir, because supper is ready and she doesn’t wish to go into the dining room without you and your M-Miss Granger.”

Draco rolled his eyes and groaned. Turning his head to look at the elf, he replied, “Inform my mother that we’ll be down shortly.”

“Yes, sir, Master Draco, sir,” the elf piped before disappearing with another crack!

The blond Pureblood turned his attention back to the beautiful witch in his arms and kissed her gently on the lips. It wasn’t a deep kiss, but it was very tender. Resting his forehead against hers, he whispered, “We’ll have to continue this later, my princess.”

She smiled softly and pulled away from him. Stepping out of his embrace, she gave him a coy, saucy look. “I’ll hold you to that, my prince,” she taunted.

His eyes widened slightly in shock. “Keep talking like that and we won’t make it to supper,” he warned.

Hermione gave him a little pout. “Promise? I was so looking forward to listening to your father’s continued attempts to kiss up to me, too,” she said, her bottom lip poking out, though there was a definite sarcastic note in her voice. She giggled and rolled her eyes. “Honestly, though. What’s his deal anyway?”

Draco shook his head as he led her out the door. “I’m not entirely sure, love, but I’ve no doubt we’ll find out.”

“I really hope he doesn’t think I’m dumb enough to fall for it,” she told him. “All that talk about Muggle friends?”

“Oh, no, princess,” he assured her. “The Muggle friends are real. I’ve met a few of them. They just don’t know what we are, nor do they come anywhere near the Manor. Though why he would bring them up to you…”

“Oh, Draco, don’t act so dense,” she scolded without any real ire. “The moment we were ‘reintroduced’ as it were, he’s been trying to work some kind of charm over me. I’m curious to know what his game is.”

The Slytherin shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll discover it right when he wants you to,” he said, glancing at her. “My father has been charming women for years, much longer than either of us have been alive. Mother’s told me the stories.”

“And she’s ok with it?” she questioned in mild disbelief.

He frowned. “She’s a Pureblood wife from an ancient Pureblood family,” he reasoned. “As long as he doesn’t bring anyone home…”

Her mouth dropped in offense and she stopped. With her arm linked in his, she had caused him to stop as well and he turned to face her curiously. “Draco,” she said slowly, “tell me you don’t follow those same ideals.”

“What ideals?”

Leaning towards him, she hissed, “Your father entertains a mistress, does he or does he not?”

“If he does,” he replied, “I’ve never met her. I don’t make it a point to butt into my parents’ business.”

“Bullshit!” she snapped. “Draco, you are in everyone’s business, so don’t lie to me. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that you know everything your parents do.”

His eyes narrowed. “What’s it to you?” he asked.

Her eyes widened in her anger. “What’s it to me?!” she repeated with a slight shriek.

He pulled her into a room off to the side. “Keep your voice down,” he hissed.

“Draco Malfoy, if I find out that you have been keeping any sort of slags on the side…”

“Are you mad?” he asked, looking insulted at the very notion. “Why in Salazar’s name would I want a bloody slag when I have a princess? Use your sense, Granger! There isn’t a damn woman, witch or Muggle, that I have wanted more than you. I worked my bloody arse off for months trying to figure out how to snag you from those two oafs you call friends and nearly lost you to that red headed pauper. I’m not about to do something stupid that would cause me to lose you again.”

“You’ve done what?” she asked, taking a step back in surprise.

He ran a hand through his perfectly combed hair. “Who do you think asked Ginger to invite you to the party that night?” he shot back. “I didn’t know what that Weasel had been doing, nor did I plan on the vast amount of alcohol consumption or the game. However, I had intended to talk to you that night and try to convince you to ditch the dunce and go out with me. Maybe, if I were lucky, I’d even get to snog you.” Most of what he was saying was, in fact, true, too. He had planned the party and had asked Ginny to invite Granger. However, he had figured out a way to charm Granger’s glass so it would automatically refill and he had given Crabbe a handful of Galleons to give her that dare. Of course, he had just asked Crabbe to dare her to kiss him, but it ended up working out even better for the blond.

“Did you ask Crabbe to dare me to give you a blowjob?” she flat out asked him.

Draco felt confident in his honest answer. “No,” he told her. “That had never been planned. I didn’t even start that bloody game. Nor would I have.”

“Why not?”

He looked at her in disbelief. “Because with my luck, you could have ended up snogging Nott! Or worse. Do you honestly think I would take such a risk that would put you in the arms of another man?” he asserted. “I wanted you. I still want you. Every moment we’re together, I want you more and more. You’re like a drug, Granger, and I’m addicted to you. I can’t get enough.”

“That night with Blaise and those other boys,” she asked. “When you let him…”

“That night will never happen again,” he growled with conviction. “I had made a promise to you. That’s the only reason that happened.”

“But you liked it,” she pointed out. “And Blaise said that you used to do it with the older boys…”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Blaise likes to think he’s some kind of badass because he’s never gotten it in the arse,” he explained. “But he’s never been in the lifestyle. He doesn’t know, nor understand how things work.”

She tilted her head. “How what works? What are you talking about?”

“Dominance,” he answered. “In order to be dominate, you have to start out as a submissive. You have to know what it feels like to have a better understanding of what those under you are going through. Our third year, I learned a lot about the lifestyle. It’s not easy, but you get a good understanding of what those less fortunate than you go through.”

She tilted her head. She had never heard anything like this before. “You called Ron a pauper, but you’ve never been without money,” she said. “You’re entire life has been handed to you on a silver platter. Literally! You mistreat your elves…”

“Who said I mistreat my elves?” he asked, frowning. “My father mistreated his elf, yes, but I’ve never done that, so don’t start equating his actions with mine. The Malfoy elves are treated with respect and dignity. Right after the Dark Lord was vanquished, I began working with my elves to make sure they started taking better care of themselves. They don’t suffer the abuse like they used to.”

“So, this dominance thing?” she questioned. “What is that all about?”

Another crack! And Basal reappeared, bowing. “My apologies, sir, but my Mistress insists…”

Draco glared at the elf, but answered calmly, “Tell her we are on our way, please. Let her know that Miss Granger had a slight wardrobe malfunction and I was merely helping her correct it.”

“Yes, sir,” the elf said and disappeared.

Hermione frowned. “I didn’t have a wardrobe malfunction.”

He sighed as he reached out to grab her arm. He turned her around and buttoned the top button of her dress at the base of her neck. “Yes, you did,” he said. “I had unbuttoned you back in my room and forgot to fix it when Basal came and got us.”

She gasped and looked at him, scandalized. “Draco Malfoy! You knew we were going to supper! If either of your parents had seen…”

“Thus the reason I corrected it,” he said. He placed a small kiss to her forehead. “We can finish this discussion later if you like, but we do need to get to the drawing room before Mother decides to hunt us down herself.”

“Which discussion?”

“Whichever one you wish, my princess.”

Author's Note: I am SO sorry about the wait! So many things going on and people distracting me with brilliant fanfics of their own. (Lexiatel, I'm looking at you as one culprit. Lol! Lovely work.) So many of you commented and I'm so happy! Let's see if I can knock these out, shall we?

shaine: I am very pleased you decided to stick with the story. Thank you so much! Yeah, the Ginny scene was a bit harsh, but then, I mean, he was capable of ordering it to happen to Astoria, so... He's a bit darker here than any other story I've written. (And that includes my Wicked one-shots)

pickles87: Well, he had to give her something, right? Greedy bastard takes so much. Lol

Leti001: Love the sarcasm, love! Lol! Yeah. He has his reasons for doing what he did by pulling Hermione into the moment, which will probably be revealed soonish.

Mady: Yeah. Brightest witch of her age. French would be second nature to her. I'm glad the threesome was well received. I was actually a bit worried for a moment there that no one would like it. You can expect more surprises to come.

Severus1snape: >:) You know what would be funny? If Hermione were to walk in on Blaise and Theo and...

Sherlocked17: Yeah. Given her brillance, it just makes sense to me. And Rowling did reveal that Muggle borns did have at least one squib in their ancestory, so.... (Glad you liked my Blaise/Draco scene)

Bella Principessa: I'm a perfectionist. I have to spell names right. It's my nature. Lol! M/M isn't for everyone, I get it. I'm not really one to write it often, honestly, and I don't really care to read it much. But the idea of Draco being at least bi doesn't really seem that farfetched to me. Maybe a closet bi? *Shrugs* As for the submissiveness, as Draco explained in this chapter, it is a practice by some doms to experience what it's like to be a sub. Teaches compassion. In fact, some groups in the "lifestyle" require it for a couple weeks or so, or recommend it.

Victoria: I'm glad you approve.

lovely-reader: Um... she did? Speak to the woman in French. Glad you liked the scene

meldz: I cannot promise an F/F scene, mostly because I don't really write or read them. (Nothing against it, it's just hard for me to wrap my mind around the concept.) Ohhh, you are going to like the party. You are SO going to like the party, especially with Draco's protective/possessioness! And do you really think Draco is going to go three days without at least attempting to get into her knickers one way or the other?

Lauren: Don't like it? Don't read it. It's that simple.

monkeymom and Jo: Thank you both for your lovely comments!

Please don't forget to send me a little review telling me what you think! :)
- 9
- 10
- 11
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Dare