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A Creative Solution	By : cristinstar Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 19002 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it just playing in JKR's sandbox. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Hermione reached for the bowl and scooped up a spoonful of the pudding. Bringing the spoon close to his mouth, she teased him, "Open up for the airplane, Drakey."

Scowling, Draco reached for her hand and gently drew the spoon away while keeping hold of her wrist. "Ah, ah, remember, the taste can be done anyway I want, and I want to taste this scrumptious desert off your skin."

Heart beating fast, Hermione asked, "Where?" There was a fine line between fear and excitement, and Hermione felt woefully out of her depth. She knew nothing of these sensual games, did not even know whether to allow herself to enjoy not knowing what his next move would be. Should she breathlessly anticipate his move, or keep asking for verbal explanations?

Draco took in her dilated eyes and shallow breathing, and seemed to decide she could use some reassurance. "There's no need to be scared, Granger," he said in a low voice, caressing her wrist. "Why don't we start small, hmm? What about here?" Keeping hold of her wrist, he proceeded to paint the tiramisu onto the inside of her arm with the spoon.

Upwards from her wrist he went, and Hermione gasped in a breath. Goosebumps erupted as the cold sliver edge of the spoon heralded the spread of the cool mousse on her arm. She tried to modulate her breathing discreetly rather than pant. Meanwhile, Draco used the spoon to smooth over the mousse, so that there was a thin layer evenly coating all of her inner arm, from wrist to elbow and slightly higher.

He pushed up the short sleeve of her shirt slightly, explaining, "We wouldn't want to get this pretty blouse of yours dirty now, would we?" His fingertips caressed the skin that lay below the sleeve's edge as he spoke. He then gently brushed the edge of the material with his fingers, before walking them ever so slowly down the back of her upper arm, all the way to her elbow and then her wrist.

If he had merely swept his hand down, Hermione believed she would not have been as affected. But his fingers tapped and circled invisible patterns on her skin as they moved, in a leisurely fashion, heightening the sensations. He returned the spoon to the bowl, then brought his other hand over to participate in her sensual awakening as well. He was completely focused on her, his luminous eyes narrowed as they swept from the current placing of his fingers on her arm, to her tightly pressed lips, to her eyes. Going backwards at times, Draco seemed to delight in finding the areas that made her shiver or gasp. He exploited these shamelessly, alternating between the sensitive regions he discovered with a rather soft smile. Her eyes fell closed.

"Oh, no. We can't have any of that now, can we?" he admonished her, "Look at me, Hermione."

She shook her head in the negative, biting her lip, trying to control her body's untutored reaction to his incendiary caresses.

He framed her face with his free hand. "Open those beautiful eyes for me." At this, her lids lifted rather quickly, along with her eyebrows, to give him an incredulous look.

"What?" he asked defensively as he reiterated his point. "Your eyes are beautiful, Hermione."

She scoffed. He released her face to catch her free hand. "Really, your eyes are so expressive, so warm... and they have these little flecks of gold in them that fascinate me when they catch the light."

"They can't compare to yours, Draco. Or Harry's, for that matter."

At the mention of Harry Potter, Draco's expression soured. He dropped his hand from her face. "I'll give you that mine are alright," he said in an attempt at false modesty, "but comparing me to Scarhead is unacceptable, Granger. A definite mood-killer." He shook his head, teasingly. "Just for that, I should leave you with a sticky, gooey arm until the next round. Would that be enough to make you stop comparing me to Tweedledee and Tweedledumber?"

Hermione sighed loudly. The antipathy between Harry, Ron, and Draco was a long-standing one, that had only deepened after the events of their sixth year. Harry and Ron had never forgiven Draco for the impact of his activities that year, including Ron's poisoning, Katie Bell's necklace curse, and the Death Eater's surprise attack on Hogwarts.

In a long-suffering tone, she corrected him. "It's Tweedledum, Draco, not dumber! I've told you before -- and you shouldn't call my friends names."

"More like dumb and dumber, if you ask me." Draco smiled, pleased at his verbal sally.

Huffing in frustration, Hermione rolled her eyes. While Harry, Ron, and Draco managed to keep a mostly civil façade of friendship during public events, behind closed doors it was a different matter. Having them all in the same room, during birthday parties or at celebrations of the Order of the Phoenix, often turned explosive.

"I didn't ask you," she replied. "And I don't let them call you names either!" As Draco's eyebrows rose in challenge, she mused that her retort had not been very effective.

"You don't have to fight my battles for me, Hermione. Let them criticize me all they want, it will only highlight that they are prejudiced gits. I can take it."

Hermione looked away as she swallowed slowly. Draco could easily take on both Harry and Ron when their insult matches descended into hexing fights. And he could pretend that their insults slid off him, like water on a raincoat. But Harry and Ron did not call Draco a pureblooded prat, or other names from childish books. But Draco could not hide his flinches when Harry and Ron outright accused him of his deeds as a Death Eater, or implied worse. The word 'murderer' was never far from their minds when they talked to Draco, or about him. Even if Draco had not cast the killing curse himself, Harry and Ron felt he was guilty of the Headmaster's murder, and guilty of every injury sustained by students and members of the Order that night.

Harry and Ron conveniently forgot that Draco had managed to single-handedly get them out of Malfoy Manor alive that horrible Easter during the war, as well as freeing the other prisoners from the manor's dungeons. The boys felt so superior when they judged as insufficient a motive the fact that the fate of Draco's parents hung in the balance, should he fail at this task. For Merlin's sake, Harry and Ron even downplayed Draco's role in preparing for the Final Battle, and during the battle itself!

She huffed in exasperation. The feud between Harry, Ron, and Draco, would only become a greater point of contention once they heard about her budding relationship. She would truly be caught in the middle then, between her... partner... and her friends.

Draco's serious tone broke her reverie. "Your loyalty is commendable and your forgiving nature unique, Granger. I can't fault you for it, since I have benefitted from it more than those two idiots." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply before locking his narrowed gaze on her. "Enough about them, Hermione. In the future... let's endeavor to keep them out of our intimate moments, shall we?"

Although he had phrased it as a question, Hermione heard the steel in his voice. Seeing her wide-eyed confusion, Draco sought her assent by drawing a comparison that was sure to get her hackles up. "You would not want me to bring up any other girl when I'm talking about beautiful eyes like yours, would you?"

She frowned and quickly agreed.

"Now," he said as his thumbs rubbed her hands gently, "enough dallying. I was trying to enjoy my pudding." He pulled the arm that was covered in tiramisu towards him by her hand as he spoke, so that once again she was framing his face. His intense gaze sought her assent as he demanded, "Do not close yourself off from me."

Still confused, she tried to figure out what he was referring to. "What do you mean?"

Without answering, he gently turned her wrist to have access to the sweetened side. He sensuously licked his lips, mesmerizing her. Caught in his snare, helpless to do anything else, her eyes traced the movement of his tongue until it retreated behind his lips. She looked up to find him expectantly waiting for their gaze to meet. He held her gaze for a pregnant moment as his lips opened over her wrist.

She inhaled, preparing herself for a long lick. Unexpectedly, Draco's tongue barely touched her skin, sinuously creating a spiral pattern with tiny, quick flicks. His lips and tongue were relentless: stinging, nipping gently, flicking, tickling, and sucking, all the while holding her eyes captive with his. She could not look away from his smoldering gaze as his carnal attack devastated her senses. Hermione's overloaded brain could not process the sensations his teasing licks caused as they swept through her, electrifying everything in their wake.

Time seemed to pause as he lapped at her sweetened skin.

She took a deep breath when he lifted his head, and another. As the lightning charge from his wet touch ebbed, Hermione gasped, wide-eyed. Draco closed his eyes and tilted his head back on a sigh, savoring the rich taste of the dessert: chocolate and coffee, combined with the unique taste of Hermione's skin. Dry mouthed, she followed the movement of his Adam's apple as he swallowed ever so slowly. His head swiveled forward gently, and his eyes locked possessively on hers once more.

Draco's eyebrow slowly raised in an unspoken challenge. He waited until she gulped in a breath before slowly lowering his lips to her skin. And then his tongue began its arousing dance once more. He flickered over her forearm in way that seemed to be promising what he would do to a different part of her anatomy. He blew on the moistened skin again, and then began tracing patterns only he could see on her skin.

Was he drawing letters on her arm with his tongue? Spelling words? She hissed in reaction. There did not seem to be any rhyme or reason to the way he moved, no way for her to predict what he would do next. Was that …Moaning? Growling? Whimpering? His or hers? Her analytical brain could not spare any cycles to figure it out, for it was concentrating all its attention on the zinging sensations ignited by his arousing kisses.

The sight of his tongue curling erotically over her skin as laved her was so carnally suggestive she had to close her eyes. Vaguely, she wondered when seeing someone's tongue had become so tantalizing to her. Was the sight of someone's tongue this provocative for other people? Under his sensual assault, her thoughts scattered too quickly for her mind to grasp them. No part of her was able to remain immune to Draco's expert touch; even her back teeth ached like when she had had too much sugar. Some of his touches made her jolt, so that she found herself locking her legs to avoid kicking out. Another sliver of skin was uncovered as Draco tasted it.

The tension built within her, ratcheting ever higher as Draco continued his measured journey. Once more she realized she was out of her depth with this man. Neither Viktor or Ron had engendered this type of reaction in her, much less the blokes she had casually gone out with since then. Was it the fact that it was Draco finally touching her, focusing his attention solely on her? Or was it Draco's expertise in making simple touches electric? Hermione found that her thoughts disintegrated as Draco once more sought the areas he'd discovered, meandering between them. Not knowing how to release this energy or let it go, she tried to contain it, clenching her jaw and fisting her hands.

"Shhh... It's alright." Opening her fists with his hands, Draco shushed her gently. Turning her palms over, he interlaced their fingers. "Don't fight it, Hermione." He paused for a couple of heartbeats, before continuing. "Whatever you feel when we're together," he whispered, "whatever you feel like doing when we're... intimate..."

Intimate. Hermione heard his voice as if it were coming from a long distance away. Intimate. His word had caused a wealth of meaning and feeling to detonate inside her. Intimate. An echo to his words in her brain, tangible as a touch of velvet on her prickling skin. Intimate. Both a promise and a threat that brought the pieces of her ordered life crashing all around them. Intimate. Her heart couldn't keep up with her panted breaths. She was prey, caught in the snare of a much more powerful predator. Was her captor Draco, or the feelings he brought forth in her? Intimate. In.ti.mate. The way his lips voluptuously formed each sound was almost obscene. Her reactions to it certainly were!

Hermione's continued silence prompted Draco to seek a response from her, so he lifted her hand from his cheek to blow at the areas of skin uncovered by his explorations.

She shivered violently in response. Was this cold? Cool? Her brain continued in its futile attempt to analyze the sensations and control the chattering of her teeth. Was she cold? Ice could burn just as hot as fire, she thought inanely. Why, even now Draco's arctic eyes were alight, burning with an inner fire, devious in their intent to drive her mad with pleasure as he blew on her damp skin. As another wave of feeling swept through her, Hermione gripped her hands tightly, feeling her nails score his palms. Worried that she was hurting him, she tried -- and failed -- to pull her arm back.

"No, hold on to me," he demanded, "and look at me, Hermione." Draco's hold on her wrist was gentle, yet implacable.

After a couple of deep breaths, she acquiesced, fearing the consuming depth of what she was feeling. She was unsure of what would be forthcoming from both the man next to her and her own traitorous body.

The hypnotic grey of his gaze, barely visible under his lowered lids, grabbed onto hers. "Whatever you feel when we're together," he repeated, "I want it."

What? Hermione was completely confused at the turn their conversation had taken. She had always managed to be in control of conversations, able to argue her point and counter arguments brilliantly. Draco's seduction had left her in a daze, dizzy, lost, shaking. Every muscle in her body was reacting spasmodically to his touches. She could not comprehend the meaning of his words, did not have enough ability to string together the kind of questions she needed answered.

"I like seeing, feeling, and hearing your reactions," he explained. Then he moistened his lips again. Ever so slowly, he brought his wet warmth to the slivers of her skin he had cooled earlier, holding her eyes captive. And then his tongue did that sinuous spiral movement again over her skin, slower than before.

Despite bracing herself, the charge swept through her with the same devastating intensity as before. She had to bite her lip again, but even with that barrier, breathy sighs made it through her lips. Rhythmic, they matched her heartbeat as he turned her wrist this way and that, to better reach the cream. Hermione's vision abruptly cut off as her eyes gave up the fight. She bit at her lips to contain the whimpers his blatant sensuality aroused. The hand that Draco still held trapped against his cheek trembled violently, as her head rocked forward, fighting back the moan threatening to break free.

"Don't." Using their joined hands, Draco reached for her chin and titled her head back up. He caressed her lips with his knuckle, using his thumb to release her lip from between her teeth. Her lips shook uncontrollably as he traced them gently.

"Don't be afraid, Hermione." She sobbed a breath as a single tear tracked through her cheek before Draco's lips caught it. He rubbed it across her cheekbone gently, without releasing her hands. "There's no need to hide your reactions from me," he reassured her, "I am here. Feel my hands around yours." His lips seemed to be everywhere, tantalizing and arousing as his tongue moved sinuously on her skin. His hands squeezed hers, emphasizing his point. "Hold on to me if you need to."

Another tear tracked down her face as she continued to try to rein in her emotions, then another followed. Draco gently brushed them away with their joined hands as his lips returned to softly worship her skin. Every few kisses he changed the pattern of his licks, sometimes circling quickly, flicking at her sensitive wrist, sometimes lapping slowly over her inner arm, and sometimes even nipping gently. And throughout it all, he kept up his reassuring litany. "I can take it. You won't hurt me. You won't scare me. It's alright. It's okay."

When his teeth clenched a bit too sharply on her skin, she allowed a surprised gasp to escape. Draco rewarded her by soothing the sting with gentle laps of his tongue. "Whatever you feel is natural. Don't fight it. Let it out," he counseled, sucking the skin of her inner elbow. Giving up any semblance of rational thought and control, Hermione surrendered and moaned softly.

"Yes, let me hear you. Moan for me, Hermione," he grated, sucking harder as he ran his nails on the outside of her arm. The sensation was just on this side of pleasure, almost painful. She gasped out a louder moan, feeling the pressure that had built inside her release infinitesimally.

"That's it. Don't bite your lip through," he said, pulling it out of her mouth gently.

Feeling his thumb so close to her lips, Hermione kissed the tip and bit at it gently, enticing it deeper into her mouth. Looking at Draco from under her eyelashes to study his reaction, she saw a slow smirk forming across his lips.

"Now that you've got my thumb, what are you going to do about it, Miss Granger?" He asked, wiggling his captive thumb gently

Emboldened, Hermione wrapped her tongue around his thumb. She twirled her tongue around it, sucking him in deeply, running her lips up and down over it, in a blatant preview of what she could do to other parts of him. She set all her concentration on this task, wanting to prove to Draco that he was not the only one that knew how to tease, that she would give as good as she got, that she could be an equal partner in their experimentation even if she did not have his wealth of experience.

"Oh, yes, kitten. Like that," Draco encouraged her, his mercurial eyes completely focused on her mouth. "I knew you would be like this."

Releasing his thumb, she pretended to pout. "I thought we had agreed that you were not going to call me that," Hermione complained.

Draco retaliated by moving his sinful lips lower on her arm, to the sensitive skin of her wrist and the pillowy flesh connecting her wrist to her thumb. He nibbled, licked, sucked, and laved, using his tongue to tantalize and stroke her lust. If this was an attempt to showcase his skill at pleasuring orally other parts of her, he was succeeding admirably! The link between her hand and each one of her pleasure centers seemed to vibrate with each of Draco's touches. Her nipples ached fiercely, their sensitive tips projecting out through her shirt. Her breasts themselves felt heavier, craving to be held and touched.

She was breathing in little pants, so turned on she barely heard him drawl, "Don't you like the way I make you purr, Miss Granger?" This seemed to be a rhetorical question, as he answered himself shortly. "Perhaps I should lecture, hmmm? That always seems to catch your interest, doesn't it?"

Draco's tone was undiluted sex as he followed up this question with yet another. "Do you know what this is called, Hermione?" Without waiting for her answer, he started explaining in his thickened tone as he nibbled on her palm. "This here," he whispered, "is called the Mount of Venus in Palmistry." His lips tickled her skin as he spoke, and the words themselves cooled the areas he had moistened. "It is associated with sensuality and beauty, did you know?"

Hermione shook her head in the negative, mesmerized by his voice and lips. Oh, no, not another dirty lecture from Draco! How was she supposed to think when he spoke in that honeyed tone about carnal topics! Inanely, she thought it was a good name for such a sensitive part of her hand. No wonder it was associated with sensuality. With an effort, she managed to stammer an answer. "P-p-palmistry is rubbish, just like the rest of Divination."

"Is that so? Hmmm. I do seem to recall you leaving class rather early our third year. Did you know that the Greeks believed that a person's character could be examined by analyzing the lines of their hands?" Draco spoke slowly, concentrating on licking the spaced between and around her fingers. The lewd sounds his tongue made as he flicked wetly at the seam of her fingers, which once would have embarrassed her, only seemed to feed her lust. Clenching her eyes closed, she confessed, "I'm afraid Draco."

Her whispered confession brought his sexual moves to a standstill. He brought her hand forward to cup his cheek. Once again, he rubbed her hand along his face. The rasp of his unshaven cheeks on her over-stimulated palm was magnified by her nerve endings, arousing her further. "Why?" He asked briefly.

The short question offered Hermione no opportunity to interpret Draco's reaction from his tone. Was he angry? Confused? Perhaps it was better not to know. Keeping her eyes closed, Hermione swallowed loudly and braved an explanation. "Not of you," she strove to reassure him, "I've just never felt anything like this."

Draco showed her how well he understood her when he responded by teasing her. "Should I tell you that hearing you say that makes me happy, or would that mark me as an egomaniac?" His voice had changed once more to the posh modulations of the upper classes. "Or would you rather hear that I am just discovering how erotic hands can be?" She chuckled weakly as he tilted her face slightly with their joined hands. "It's all true, I assure you. But I would much rather have this discussion with you looking at me."

Gathering her courage, she tremulously opened her eyes to see an expression on Draco's face she did not think she had seen before. His eyes shone with banked intensity, his lips smiled gently, almost proudly.

"That's it," he praised her tenderly, "My brave little Gryffindor." His tone was laden with affection. A single eyebrow rose as he asked, "You liked it, then?"

Hermione's eyebrows and chin jerked in opposite directions at his casual question. Wide eyed and gaping once more, she looked at him as if he was out of his mind.

"Like?" She asked out loud. Like was too tame a word for what she felt when his tongue came in contact with her skin. He waited patiently for her answer as she desperately tried to restart her thinking processes. "I'm... I'm not sure." Stammering, she couldn't make heads or tails of her feelings or reactions. "I don't... I don't know."

"You don't know, huh? Then we'll just have to keep experimenting," he teased, "until you can determine your answer, won't we? Now, breathe deeply." She did. "Ready for another taste?"

"What?" She screeched. "No, Draco, wait!" Panicked, she pulled away. Or rather, tried to. Draco would not relinquish his hold on her hands, limiting her range of movement. Desperately, she grabbed for any argument she could come up with. "You've already eaten all the tiramisu!" Well, most of it, if one had to be precise. There was still a very thin sugary film covering her forearm. But she needed to cool off, to regain her mental balance, and she could not well do that if he kept touching her like this!

"Ah, ah, ah," he admonished. "A deal is a deal, and you got your answers already, Hermione," he said as he pulled her closer. "Besides, there is still some left. I have to clean you up. Play fair now."

She was too confused to know whether he was serious or teasing. Wanting to stall him until she could make sense of the situation, to ask for explanations, she was surprised to hear herself whining, wailing, "What are you doing to me, Draco?"

The fake look of surprise in his face was not reassuring. "I am not doing anything to you, Hermione," he stated.

Her eyes narrowed. Oh, he wasn't? Then who had been giving her those depraved licks? She pulled back on her hands, hard. Astounded at his denial, she was ready to yell and demand explanations when he spoke again.

"We are doing this together," he explained with a smirk. "Or do you think you are an innocent bystander?"

Wide-eyed, she nodded. She hadn't even touched him with the hand he held to his face, and he controlled the movement of her other hand that one much more!

His eyes smoldered as he moved his chair that much closer to her. "Is that so, Miss Granger?" His smirk was pure sin as he stalked her predatorily.

She nodded again, feeling completely off kilter as he tugged on their joined hands. Where was he going with this?

Hmm. Where do you think he's going with this? I'm not telling yet -- except to say that chapter twelve is finished and it should turn up the heat! If you have a moment, please review and let me know what you think of this chapter. I would love to know your thoughts on it, as it is my second attempt at writing romance (the first being the kiss in Chapter 6!)

And before I finish, let me once again thank UnseenLibrarian for all her support and encouragement, in addition to all the Beta-Reading!
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A Creative Solution