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The Dare	By : Tassanaburrfoot Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 82904 -:- 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
- 10
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The first time Hermione had ever laid eyes on Lucius Malfoy, she knew he was rich, powerful, and a downright snob. He actually matched perfectly in her mind to who she believed would father a child as spoiled and rotten as Draco had been in the first few years of her life as a student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She remembered him as rude, self-righteous, and bigoted, if a smidge intimidated. (He was much larger than the twelve year old Hermione, after all. [He was still larger four years later.]) But even at twelve, Hermione refused to be intimidated by the man and had stood up to him alongside her best friend, Harry.

Walking with her hand tucked in the crook of Draco’s arm, she held her head high and proud, though Lucius had given her no impression that he was much interested in his actions four years prior. In fact, it seemed very much like he was a changed and contrite man. Hermione was not fooled, nor was she impressed.

She was, however, impressed with the dining room when they entered. There were six entrances into the dining room. Two on each end and two slightly larger ones to the right, which Hermione, rightfully, assumed led to the ballroom. The walls were painted a fern, or was it hunter, green with silver piping along every edge. By each door and between them, silver sconces were bold and proud mounted on the walls. Opposite the large ballroom doors, there were three large, floor length windows with the same sconces between them while dark green curtains covered the glass, effectively hiding them from the outside world. Hermione had no doubt that when those curtains were drawn, the world outside did more than enough to illuminate the room.

The ceiling was rather dull, painted in the same shade of green as the walls and doors, however in the centre hung a large chandelier that looked as though it had come straight out of the 18^th century. (It probably had. Honestly.)

It should be noted, as they stepped further into the room, that the doors they had entered from did not have a sconce between them and the door next to it, but rather a large fireplace that was currently crackling merrily, giving the room most of its lighting. Hermione thought that was all well and good considering she doubted the sconces provided much in the way of light and were probably more for decoration than anything. The chandelier, on the other hand, probably produced more than enough light, though it was currently dimmed.

There were paintings on the walls between the doors and under the sconces as well as above the doors, but Hermione didn’t really get much of a chance to study them properly as Draco led her to her seat and held her chair out for her. The table was long, rectangular, and made out of what looked like either onyx or black obsidian. It was shiny, which led Hermione to believe obsidian was the proper stone, rather than onyx. There were eight cushioned chairs one either side of the table and one large, master chair on one end and another regular chair on the other. Silver piping, much like what decorated the walls, lined the edges of the table and chairs alike. Three 9 tier silver candle holders sat in the middle of the table, all polished with a skull base and snakes holding the candles in their mouths.

A part of Hermione was impressed, but mostly all she could think was how the Malfoys seriously needed a new decorator. They were way too obsessed with snakes for her taste. She went to sit in the chair Draco had pulled out for her when his mother stopped them.

“Draco,” the woman stated, “it is improper for you to sit next to her. Give her your chair and come sit next to me.”

The teens looked at the older witch in confusion, but Draco had learned a long time ago how idiotic it was to argue with his mother, especially in front of guests, so he silently obeyed her wishes, pulling out his chair for Hermione to sit in before retreating around the table to sit next to his mother. As they sat down, Hermione took a moment to glance around the room, trying to decipher the paintings. She frowned and lifted a hand towards a painting above one of the doors. “Is that an original Thomas Gainsborough?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Lucius glanced up at the painting she indicated. “Indeed, it is, my dear,” he answered.

She turned her attention to him. “But he was a Muggle. Why on earth would you have Muggle paintings decorating your home?” she asked, scrunching her face.

“Do you disapprove?” he questioned her in turn with a lift of his brow.

Her mouth popped open in a small o before responding, “Well, no. It just doesn’t make much sense. You’re Purebloods from a long line of Purebloods. Draco even told me as much. It never occurred to me that you’d have any interest in Muggle art as it doesn’t move like Wizard art does.”

“That is a very stereotypical statement, Miss Granger, and I do hope you’ll rectify your views in the months or maybe even years to come,” he replied. “As it so happens, however, Gainsborough was not a Muggle, but a very refined Half-Blood who had little tolerance for rules or expectations. His love for landscaping produced some of the finest works in art, both Muggle and Wizard, though his profession of painting portraits was only done out of necessity. A true Slytherin, if I say so myself.”

“Most Slytherins have little regard for Muggles,” she commented.

He gave a small nod, as if to agree with her statement. “He certainly did not enjoy what he did during his years as a portrait painter, but he did revel in the celebrity,” he said in a soft, seductive voice as he picked up the glass of wine that had appeared in front of him.

Hermione frowned and glanced back up at the painting in time to see the trees in the landscape move with imaginary wind. She let out a little gasp that made both Lucius and Draco chuckle.

(II)(II)

“I do believe your father was mocking me all night,” Hermione stated as Draco closed the door to the bedroom.

She kicked off her heels and sat down in one of his chairs by the fireplace. She watched as he joined her, loosening his tie with one finger. “Well, you did make it rather easy for him, princess,” he pointed out. “Your lack of knowledge of our world has given me rise to begin educating you in the traditions of our people. I think in the morning, I shall introduce you to our libra… No, wait.” He scoffed and hit his head against the back of his chair. “You and my mother have an appointment at the spa tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t have the money to go to a spa,” she huffed.

“Your snobbery is not impressive or flattering, princess,” he drawled with a tsk.

She stared at him in astonishment, more than a little insulted. “How am I being a snob?”

He lifted a brow. “Do you really think I would allow you to pay for a trip to the spa?” he shot back. “My mother wishes to get to know you and I’d advise you to take her up on the offer. My mother isn’t really known for her generosity or caring nature and thus far, she has done far more for you than I ever expected her to.”

“How,” she ground out through gritted teeth, “can you call me a snob in one breath and then admit in the very next that your mother is just as bad if not worse?”

“She openly admits to it and makes no apology for it,” he told her. “You, on the other hand, continue to deny your prejudice and when it’s presented for you clearly, you make excuses and try to rationalize your behaviour.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but then closed it as she thought over his words. The Malfoys had been cordial to her, especially Narcissa, despite the distain she had regarded them with. In fact, even during supper, when he was vaguely insulting her, Lucius remained polite and charming. Was she being wrong about them? Was she being prejudice?

She frowned as she stared into the flames. “I’ve no desire to go to the spa,” she said finally.

Draco rolled his eyes as he untucked his shirt. “You’re going,” he said with a finality that brook no argument. “Mother would take it as a personal insult if you didn’t go as she’s very much looking forward to some ‘girl time’. It may have escaped your notice, princess, but I have no siblings, least of all sisters, and my mother’s sisters are either dead or cast away. Until the day I marry or my aunt and mother make up, the latter of which I don’t see happening any time soon, you’re the only female aside from non-family she has near enough to her to spend any decent time with.”

“Why doesn’t your mother make up with her sister?” she asked curiously, looking at him.

He shrugged. “Black pride runs deep in our family and grudges have been known to last a lifetime. My mother was still very much a child when my aunt left and took the abandonment personally. Whether my aunt had meant it in such a way makes little difference to the heartache it caused my mum,” he explained. “I’ve tried convincing her to reconcile, but she won’t even entertain the idea without an apology from her sister, which, as you know, is unlikely to happen.”

She sighed. She knew all too well about stubbornness. Resting her head against the cushion of the chair, she allowed her mind to wander as she stared into the flames of the fireplace. Supper had been pleasant enough overall, minus the random jabs on her blood status from Lucius. Though Hermione had a sinking feeling his words were more residual than any serious personal ideals. If the Malfoys had truly changed as Draco suggested, then her relationship with the blond Slytherin actually stood a chance. He was the romantic notion of “tall, dark, and handsome” with an air of mystery and sophistication that demanded her to learn more about him. Her mind halted when she came across a thought. “You mentioned dominance earlier,” she said suddenly.

When she looked at him, she could see his silver eyes studying her with a predatory gleam, a glass of firewhiskey warming in his hand. “You spoke of it reverently,” she continued, tamping down her hesitance. “I do hope you don’t mean to try and turn me into some type of submissive.”

He lifted an eyebrow and set his glass on the table beside him. “I don’t have to turn you into anything, princess,” he told her, glancing at her and offering a small smirk. “In the world of dominance and submission, you either are or you aren’t. And you, my love, are very much the submissive by nature.” He saw her begin to protest and held up a hand to stop her. “That’s not a slight on your character. What happens in the bedroom is vastly different from what happens outside it. Amongst our peers and those both above and below us, you are very much a dominant person. I won’t deny that. Your station in life demands it. However, in the bedroom you are more than willing to allow me to take the lead and guide you through your climaxes and pleasures.”

“That’s only because I know very little of what I’m doing!” she said, going automatically on the defence.

“There you are with that snobbery again,” he groused with a sneer. “There’s nothing wrong with allowing yourself to submit to the pleasures of the flesh, love. In fact, doing so actually gives you more opportunity to enjoy it.”

“I’ve heard of this BDSM and I will not participate in such barbaric practices!” she spat.

He frowned, his brows furrowing together. “Who said anything about BDSM?”

“Isn’t that what you’re suggesting with your talk of dominance and submission?”

He closed his eyes and gave a small shake of his head. “You have so much to learn, princess,” he breathed. “Yes, I will admit there are some rather barbaric practices in the lifestyle, however, I don’t go that route. Pain and torture does nothing for me, except make me angry and I refuse to subject you to it. However, there are some rather pleasurable aspects that I do enjoy indulging in every once in a while. Besides, those parts of the lifestyle encourage showcasing your goods and what you can do with them. I have no intention of allowing anyone to touch you or even see your body.”

“But isn’t that what you did with Blaise that night?”

He shook his head. “What we did with Blaise was a bit of fun,” he told her. “No one saw anything they weren’t meant to see as I had you perfectly covered. As I said, it’ll never happen again.”

“Then why do it in the first place?” she asked, her eyes staring at him with a mixture of disgust and curiosity.

“Think about it, princess,” he told her as he leaned forward. “There isn’t a single boy in Slytherin who wouldn’t take you if given the opportunity, and that includes your friends Blaise and Rookwood, despite Rookwood’s attempts to suggest otherwise. You are beautiful, whether you’re willing to see it or not. And we’re of an age now when boys begin turning into men and start branching off to solidify their permanent partners and the future mother of their children.” He took a breath. “I’m not sure how the Muggle world does such things, but here in our world, particularly among the Purebloods, if you don’t stake a claim upon a certain female, she is up for anyone to grab.”

“I’m not a prize to be won,” she argued.

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly in the shadow of a smirk. “But you are, princess,” he told her. “In more ways than you can imagine. Despite your unfortunate Muggle heritage, or actually, in spite of it, you are very much desired by many.”

“In spite? Most Purebloods snub at the idea of marrying a Muggle born,” she reasoned. “Very few are willing to settle with the title of ‘blood traitor’.”

“True,” he admitted. “At least until the Dark Lord was defeated and the new Minister of Magic began making changes to the way we live our lives. ‘Blood traitor’ used to leave a bad taste in the mouths of many, but now it’s something most aspire to. Blood status counts for nothing if our race becomes extinct and the Dark Lord depleted the gene pool greatly with his massacres.”

“So Purebloods are marrying Muggle borns,” she stated. “I’m sorry, Draco, but that seems highly suspect.”

He shook his head. “They aren’t necessarily marrying them,” he argued. “But they are looking at them more. Paying more attention. Those that are deemed worthy do get proposals and married into the families.”

“So, what does that make us?” she asked. “What is it that you’re doing exactly?”

“I’m claiming what’s mine,” he told her simply. “I’ve wanted you since our third year and I care little for what’s in your blood. For the time being, we are boyfriend and girlfriend, learning one another from the inside out. In my opinion, we’re both still far too young to make declarations of commitment, a notion my father would have us do were it up to him. However, I wish to take my time. We have a year and a half left of school before we step out into the world together.”

“And you want us to ‘step out into the world together’ as what? Dom and sub? Equal partners? Lovers? Friends? Husband and wife?” she pressed, her eyes widening with each pairing.

He shrugged and parted his hands, palms up. “Whatever you want,” he told her. “Though I do believe each of those couples you listed are just different bits of the same relationship. While not all doms marry their subs, nor do all friends or lovers, you need a bit of each of those in the relationship to have a long and happy marriage, don’t you think?”

“And you think the man should be the dominant one,” she surmised, but he shook his head.

“Not at all,” he disagreed. “Be it, that is often how it happens, but I have seen marriages thrive where the woman was the dominant person. A prime example is the Weasley family. Sure Mr. Weasley brings in the paychecks, but I’ve seen how Mrs. Weasley is with her family.”

“When? I don’t recall ever seeing you at any family gatherings,” she said curiously, looking at him.

He rolled his eyes. “The entire family is uncouth, Granger,” he told her. “They have no shame in how they act in public and Mrs. Weasley does not know how to curb her tongue when someone steps out of line.”

She frowned at that. “You try controlling seven children and let’s see how far you get,” she said, defending the Weasley matriarch.

Again, he shrugged. “Honestly, I could care less,” he conceded. “My point was, it matters little who the dominant one is, so long as the jobs get done.”

“So, it wouldn’t matter to you if I were the dominant one?” she asked, tilting her head to the side, her eyes staring at him challengingly.

He smirked. “Always needing to be in control, my princess,” he teased. “You’d be surprised by how much more pleasurable it can be to relinquish some of that control and entrust it with another.”

“Who would I trust?” she found herself asking, though she already knew the answer he would give.

His smirk widened a bit as he slowly stood up and held a hand out to her. “I want to try something, if you’ll let me,” he said.

Curious, and a bit nervous, Hermione placed her hand tentatively in Draco’s and allowed him to pull her up. She took a deep breath and mustered up her Gryffindor courage as he led her into the middle of the room. He dropped her hand, indicating that she should stand still as he ran his hands down her arms. He began circling her and she followed his movements, her eyes narrowing as his eyes darkened just a bit.

“I wonder if you’ll trust me for just a moment,” he said finally, his eyes trailing along her form.

“Since we’ve started dating, you’ve given me no reason to do otherwise,” she pointed out. Then a single brow lifted. “Unless, of course, you’re hiding something that I should know about, but you wish to keep from me. I hope you realize that if you are, I will find out about it. I’m not called the brightest witch of our age simply because my eyes sparkle when I laugh.”

For the briefest of moments, Draco actually hesitated, having caught his mother’s words reiterated almost perfectly from the girl’s lips. He stopped his slow stalking to stare at her, meeting her eyes. He knew she hadn’t heard the conversation in the drawing room, but he was suddenly glad his mother had had the foresight to put an end to that particular scheme of his father’s. The realization that Granger would have, indeed, found out and been pissed did not escape Draco’s quick assessment of the situation.

“Then I suppose I should lay it out for you and reveal that it is my intention, at the moment, to one day call you Mrs. Malfoy,” he told her. Her mouth snapped shut and her eyes widened in astonishment. He rolled his eyes. “Don’t look so surprised, Granger,” he huffed. “And don’t pretend to be obtuse. It doesn’t become you. We’ve been dating since October and I did reveal that I’ve wanted you since our third year. It doesn’t take an Arithmantic to figure it out.”

“You’re not proposing.” It was more of a fearful statement than a question, but he still shook his head.

“Not yet at least,” he told her. “But I wouldn’t act like it’s a shock when I do, if I were you. Remember, princess, I know what you taste like and I don’t fancy anyone else sampling you. You were mine the moment you took that dare and I’ve no intention of letting you go.”

He could literally see as her mind began going a mile a minute, thinking over what he was saying. Her eyes hardened slowly. “It’s my decision,” she told him frankly. “We are just dating and I still have a lot to learn about you and your family. Not to mention, I have my own future to think about. I’m not keen on putting my own plans aside for the whim and desire of a 16 year old boy.”

“Nor am I,” he said, staring at her. “One of the things I like most about you, princess, is your ambition. It’s a trait my family holds very dear and one of the reasons I believe you should have been Sorted into Slytherin rather than Gryffindor. I would never begrudge you the chance to fulfil your dreams. In fact, if anything, I want to indulge them and give you the means to bring them into reality.”

“And in return, you wish to dominate me,” she concluded. She tilted her head. “I do not need handouts and I’m not interested in your charity. I’ve done a pretty damn good job these six years in Hogwarts without them. So good, in fact, that I’ve even beaten you, the Golden Child of Pureblood hereditary. Or is it Silver Child? You and your family are far too proud of your tradition of being Sorted into Slytherin.”

Something flashed in Draco’s eyes, though it was gone too instantly for Hermione to determine what it was. For a moment, he said nothing, just stared at her with his stormy eyes. “I would never presume to believe you need any form of charity, princess,” he said, his voice deadly calm. “I know your power, I’ve seen it, experienced it, and even been at the receiving end of it. There is a reason you’ve been coined the Gryffindor Princess, and it has little to do with your purity. There is a fire in your eyes and I do enjoy stoking the flames. When we were younger, I despised the consistent questions and your unapologetic desire to be an insufferable Know-It-All, but as time had gone on, I have learned to not only enjoy it, but admire and even look forward to it. I’ve come to love watching your brilliant mind at work.”

“So, you’re aware that I’ve noticed how you act as though you own me? You’re obsessive and possessive, Draco,” she told him. “I’ve seen the looks you’ve given Harry and I am far from amused by them. Regardless of how you feel about him, Harry is my friend. My best friend. He is like a brother to me and there are things in our past that you will never understand or comprehend. I realize you can say the same to me regarding your hatred towards him, but given that we are in this relationship and you spout romance at every turn, I would hope that you would at least attempt to be tolerable of my relationship with him.”

“Given that we are in this relationship together, I would hope that you will keep my past with your friend in mind and curb your enthusiasm when you are around him,” he said in a low whisper, his eyes flashing again. “It is not my desire to keep you from your friends, princess, whether it’s Potter or Ginger. Though I’m not keen on your continued association with the Weasel.”

She frowned. “Ron is a very dear friend who…”

“You pined over for ages,” he interjected with a lift of his brow. “You cannot blame me for my hesitance to see you anywhere near him, especially since the whole reason you had agreed to go to that House party to begin with was out of your own personal jealousy of seeing him in the arms of another witch.”

She snapped her mouth shut, knowing he had a point. “And your relationship with Pansy Parkinson? Or the Greengrass sisters?”

“I have no relationship with the Greengrass sisters. Never have and never will,” he assured her. “As for Parkinson, we grew up together. She’s more like a sister to me than anything.”

“She used to fawn over you,” she pointed out, folding her arms in front of her chest.

His brow knitted together in confusion. “Did she?” he asked as his mind went through the past trying to find any time in which the rather busty Slytherin had given him such attention.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes, Draco, she did,” she spat. “When you had insulted Buckbeak and had to go to the hospital, she barely left your side.”

He made a face. “That’s not ‘fawning’, that’s ‘showing concern’. I could have lost my arm to that monster and my mother had written Parkinson begging her to watch over me until the injury had healed.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound like a convenient excuse,” she snarked with a sniff. “You weren’t even that badly injured. It was, what, a scratch?”

His frown deepened. “Do you honestly believe it was just ‘a scratch’?” he asked slowly. “That bloody chicken nearly murdered me. Where did this even come from?”

“You said Pansy was like a sister to you,” she reminded him. “I was merely pointing out that she did have a crush on you, if not now, then back then, since you were so quick to mention Ron.”

He lifted a brow. “And here I thought you were more mature than that,” he said. “A lot of girls crush on me, princess. As time goes on, I assume even more girls will. I am a multi-billionaire. I could rebuild Hogwarts twice over and still not make a dent in the wealth I retain.” He took a step closer to her. “And that doesn’t include the massive amount of political power my family weaves or the magical power I personally possess. Humans are envious creatures, my princess. They desire everything all at once. Wealth, power, love. What they fail to realize is how few can actually achieve all three. Most people are lucky if they end up with at least one of those.”

“And you have all three?” It was more a statement rather than a question.

He lifted his hand and gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Wealth and power are my birth rights,” he murmured. “Love, however,” he gave her a soft, seductive smile as his eyes grew heavy. “There is only one I would ever want to receive love from and I would like to believe you’ve given it to me.”

She glanced down at his chest as she felt the heat radiating from his eyes. There were a lot of things that he had said, but even more that she knew he didn’t say. Draco was an enigma to her. Every time she thought she had him figured out, something new would be revealed about him. Most girls would shy away from such an obviously dangerous creature, for Hermione did know he was dangerous. All that power and wealth toppled with a set of parents who taught him everything they knew gave way to a very dangerous creature indeed. But for the Gryffindor Muggle born, the challenge was just too tempting to turn away from. Money and power held very little interest to a girl whose parents had given her everything, but the challenge and promise she had seen in his eyes…

She glanced back up at him and honey met silver. “You have it,” she breathed, her voice coming out as a whisper on the wind. “I do love you, Draco, and I find myself being swept away by you a little more each day.”

A soft smile played on his features. “And I love you,” he replied huskily. “We have a lifetime ahead of us, my princess. I would like it to be us, too. Just us. Friends come and go. Some stay by us and some wander off to their own futures. But this? You and me. There is a great potential for us and a pull to turn this into forever. I am obsessed with you, my love. Every moment of every day I breathe you in. You are my sustenance and without you I would wither away and die. Because of this, I am very possessive of you, as any person would be in our situation.” He pulled her closer to him and she could feel his solid body against hers. “My possession is merely a product of my greatest fear, after all.”

This gave her pause and she tilted her head curiously. “What is your greatest fear?” she asked.

He cupped her jaw and brushed his lips against hers. “Losing you,” he whispered and then he kissed her.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she allowed him to take over the control of the kiss. Her hands bunched up his shirt and she could feel him leading her blindly towards the bed. His tongue danced along hers, battling for dominance. Suddenly, he broke their kiss, resting his forehead against hers as he breathed heavily. “You never answered my question,” he whispered.

She wanted to point out that he had answered very few of hers, however she found herself responding, “What question was that?”

His eyes met hers. “Do you trust me?”

There was so much raw power in those four little words. So much meaning, so much tension. Hermione knew their future hung on the balance of her answer. Did she trust him? He had teased her when they were children, sure, but she knew their time as children was over. War and reality turned them into adults long before time had the chance. Did she trust him?

Ever since that night in the Slytherin Common Room, he had given her no reason not to trust him. Even before then, he hadn’t. Sure he had made a couple, childish mistakes, but nothing that she could determine as detrimental. Although, she couldn’t shake the look she had seen in Ginny’s eyes. Something was going on and while it may not have anything to do with Hermione, it was still there. But was it enough to make him untrustworthy?

Draco had been her first in so many things. Sure, he hadn’t known she had been a virgin, but that didn’t seem to matter much. Dating Draco had made her all but forget about her silly little crush on Ron, opting instead for the more mature relationship she found with the blond Pureblood. They fought. They were both quite stubborn, strong minded, and used to getting their way. Draco supported her and they worked together to get through their classes and make the best grades possible. Though she really didn’t need protecting, Hermione was flattered with how he did his best to curtail the rumours and accusations surrounding her and the relationship she had with the Slytherin. No one questioned her being in Slytherin House and she had even managed to make a few friends there.

“I do trust you,” she whispered finally. And she meant it.

She had no idea what those words meant to him, nor the depth of her admittance. He gave a small smile as he kissed her gently on the lips. “Close your eyes,” he whispered, his breath making her lips tingle.

As she did so, she could feel the palm of his hand press against her cheek for a moment before pulling away. And then, he was gone. Her brows furrowing, she opened her eyes to find him standing just out of her reach, staring at her.

He smirked. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” he commented.

Her eyes fell down to his hands which were currently toying with a bit of black silk. “Let’s test your trust in me, shall we?” he continued, stepping up to her again. Her eyes followed his every movement. He showed her the material in his hands. “If you’ll allow me, I would like to tie this around your eyes.”

She pinched her lips together. “Why would I allow that?” she asked, a bit perturbed.

“Because you know I would never hurt you,” came his reply. “Nor would I allow anyone else to do so. Along with this, allowing me to blindfold you, will help to awaken your other senses more. Instead of seeing what I’m doing, you’ll be able to experience it. Feel it, taste it, smell it, hear it…”

“What do you plan to do?” she asked suspiciously.

He lifted a hand and cupped her jaw again, lightly running his finger over her bottom lip. “Nothing that would be repulsive,” he said softly. “It’ll feel good and have you begging for more.”

She was dubious, but curious at the same time. “If I say ‘stop’, you’ll stop, right?”

He quirked a brow. “The word ‘stop’ comes so easily and isn’t always meant. I won’t do anything one could consider ‘hardcore’, but if it will make you feel better, you can choose a safe word.”

“A safe word?” she repeated, her eyes going from his lips to his eyes.

His smirk lifted his face slowly. “Yes, princess. A word that, when I hear it, I will know to stop.”

“Why isn’t ‘stop’ enough?”

“Because a person can say ‘stop’, but not really mean it. Just like saying ‘no’ or ‘yes’. These are words that vomit from a person’s mouth without thought. No, you need a word that makes you think a moment before you say it,” he told her. “But nothing too complicated, love. Just something to kill the action.”

“Something to kill the action,” she repeated again, thinking. “Ronald.”

He laughed which brought a smile to her face. “That would do it,” he said. His laughter trickled down to a chuckle and he held the strip of silk up. “So? What do you say?”

She eyed it for a moment, debating with herself. She didn’t want him to think she didn’t trust him, but at the same time, she was nervous. He wanted her to give up her control to him. This wasn’t something she was known to do. But he looked so sexy standing there with his shirt untucked and unbuttoned and his tie hanging loose at his collar.

Looking into his silver eyes, she gave a single nod. “Alright. I’m willing to try it. I trust you.”

The atmosphere in the room changed suddenly as Draco’s eyes darkened to a molten predatory gleam. For a moment, just a moment, Hermione hesitated and wondered if she had made a mistake. Then he kissed her. It wasn’t a “eat your face” kind of kiss, nor was it full of unbridled passion. No. He kissed her slowly, almost tenderly. Taking his time as he explored the crevices of her mouth that he knew so well.

Her eyes fluttered shut as he maneuvered behind her, kissing her jaw and neck along the way. She gasped softly as the silk strip was placed over her eyes. A hand automatically lifted to her face and her fingertips brushed the silk before Draco pushed her hand down. She could feel him securing the silk blindfold and turning her around, making slight adjustments around her eyes.

“How does that feel, princess?” he asked as he tucked a bit of her hair behind her ear.

She licked her lips and wrinkled her nose. “Strange,” she answered.

“Don’t move your nose so much,” he told her. “Is it comfortable? Not too tight?”

“It’s not too tight,” she said, though she wasn’t sure if she would define having her eyes covered as particularly comfortable.

His lips were on hers again, the tip of his tongue tracing her bottom lip before diving into her mouth. She could feel his hands running along her sides as though they were searching for something. She was still moving her lips when he broke the kiss and turned her around. She felt like a fish out of water for a second as he kissed her neck. She felt a tug at the back of her dress before it fell away, pooling, she knew, at her feet.

She heard him sigh as he ran his hands over her pert breasts and cupped her knicker covered mound. “So beautiful,” he whispered in her ear.

The sensations were strange and yet familiar. In all honesty, he wasn’t doing anything he hadn’t done before from what she could tell. But her body felt hyperaware and sensitive to his touch.

He pushed her and she fell with a muffled thud onto the bed, the action causing her blindfold to become askew and she could see a sliver of light and a bit of one of the bed posts. Then she saw his fingers and the blindfold was put back into place. “Haven’t quite mastered that yet,” he mumbled apologetically and she could hear the chuckle in his voice and assumed he was smiling at his own folly.

“Draco,” she moaned and then his hands returned to her body. Touching, teasing, tormenting.

She felt a hand cup a breast, squeezing it and rolling the nipple between two fingers. Another hand pulled at her knickers and she lifted her hips to give him better access. It felt as though his mouth was trailing the hand at her breast for, as soon as he released the nipple, she felt what clearly had to be his tongue, or was it his lips, lave over her nipple. She lifted her hand to the blindfold but he had grabbed it before she could touch the silky material.

“Keep trying to pull that off and I will tie your hands to the bed,” he warned gruffly. She pursed her lips and heard him huff. “Are you pouting, Granger?”

“No,” she denied, but his chuckle told her that he didn’t believe her.

He continued to tease her body. She could feel his hands and fingers everywhere and she knew not where they were going next. To her surprise, this actually excited her. He seemed to come to the same conclusion as she felt his fingers dip into her cunt. “You’re soaked, princess,” he taunted and she felt him move down her body.

The sensation of his tongue on her quim had her arching her back and moaning loudly. She wanted more. Desperately. She grated her hips against him and she felt him pull back. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up. She heard a loud smack and her bum began to heat up. Her jaw dropped. “Did you just…?”

He let go of her and she fell back onto the mattress where she could feel her bum heat up even more. She reached for the blindfold, but he grabbed her hands and lifted them above her head. “Just feel, Granger,” he told her. His hands were back at her quim, but she found she couldn’t move her own hands. Something thick and scratchy was holding them in place.

Her stomach began to bubble as panic started to set in, but then he kissed her. Her heart beat fast and hard against her chest, but he swallowed her pants and protests as his tongue dived into her mouth, battling her tongue for dominance. She felt his fingers on her breasts, in her pussy, and tickling her sides. Two fingers slid home to her moist heat and they both moaned. “So wet,” he whispered against her hot lips.

“Dra…” her whispered plea was drowned in the fiery passion of his kiss.

He pressed his body against hers and that was when she realized he was naked. She yearned to touch him, to stroke his hardened flesh in the same manner he teased her inner folds. Her back arched and she strained against the bonds at her hands, her legs splayed out, her pussy was begging for his cock.

She could feel his tongue leaving a hot trail along her jaw and his smouldering breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “Tell me what you want, princess.”

“I want you,” she panted.

He pinched a nipple and she screamed, her hips bucking. “Tell me what you want from me,” his voice whispered again.

He thrust two fingers inside her and she couldn’t think straight. She lifted her legs up and they wrapped around hardened flesh. “Oh, god, Draco,” she cried.

He stopped suddenly, pulling his fingers out of her. She whimpered. “Wha…? What are you doing?”

She felt his hands at her ankles, pulling them apart and away from what she thought for certain was his waist. “Tell me what you want, love,” he repeated. “I can’t give you something if I don’t know what it is you desire.”

“I want you.”

“You want me to what? Stop?”

“No!” she shouted, struggling against her bonds. “No, no, please! Please don’t stop.”

She felt his hand on her thigh. “Is this all you want?” he asked, a hint of innocence in his voice as he rubbed the outside of her thigh.

“Draco Malfoy, you better stop toying with me!” she growled, shaking her head in an effort to get the blindfold off.

He stopped and removed his hand. She gave a frustrated yell and kicked at the air. He tsked. “Such a naughty little girl,” he chided. “I should spank you for acting up like this. First with trying to take off the blindfold. Then with that rather saucy display of attempting to grind my nose into your crotch. And now you accuse me of toying with you when I’m just waiting for you to tell me what you want.”

She froze and could feel the colour drain from her face. “You wouldn’t spank me,” she said.

“I already have,” he told her. “I won’t ask you again, my pet. If we are to continue, I need to know what you want. I need to hear it from your mouth.”

That’s what that smack had been! She was furious that he had done that and she tried to break away from her bonds. It was a shame her wand was on the nightstand and she hadn’t learned wandless magic yet. The idea that he would spank her… Her cheeks heated up as she felt her lower body melt at that thought. How was this turning her on?! She chalked it to his consistent teasing up to this point.

“Fuck me,” she breathed, more to herself than anything.

“Your wish is my command, princess,” he said and she felt him atop her again.

Had that really been what he wanted? Why hadn’t he just said as much? And why did she care at this point when she could feel his thick rod rubbing along her slit? As she felt him fill her, she groaned, wrapping her legs around his waist. She wanted to hold on to his shoulders, like she always did, but her restraints wouldn’t allow it.

She heard him grunt once he was completely inside her. It really was strange. She could feel him and he felt so good. But not being able to see him, to see his expression as he filled her seemed almost awkward. Then he moved.

“Oh!” she cried in surprise.

“Good?” came his lustful question.

She nodded, knowing that he could see her. She heard him give a soft chuckle before he started moving slowly. His movements were tantalizing as he would slowly pull almost all the way out before pushing himself back in. This lasted a good three or four thrusts, however, before he grabbed her hips. “Fuck this,” he growled and began pounding into her.

Slowing down a moment, he flipped her around. “Sit up on your hands and knees,” he ordered, pulling her waist so she could slip her knees under her body. He pressed against her back a bit so she was leaning forward and shoved his dick back inside her. A few thrusts and she could feel his fingers teasing her clit. “Come for me, Hermione,” he breathed between his thrusts.

Everything was so raw. The sound of his balls slapping against her was somehow louder than they usually were. Her clit was oversensitive to his touch and she was careening at his fingers. “No, no! Oh, God, Draco!” she cried, feeling her body seizing up.

She saw white lights behind the blindfold as her hands dug into the duvet underneath her. He grabbed her hair with one hand while the other clutched her waist as he picked up his pace. She didn’t have time to come down from her high before the both of them were shouting their climaxes as his seed spilled into her.

(III)(III)

Hermione straightened out her blouse and followed Narcissa into Diagon Alley. “You are going to love this place, Miss Granger,” the older woman was saying. “It’s very exclusive and has the best experts in all things involved in relaxing and meditating.”

The Muggle born gave a small smile. Her mind was still reeling from the night before and she was a little anxious that the older witch knew what Hermione and Draco had been up to. A large part of her wanted to deny receiving any enjoyment from what she had done with her boyfriend. But another part of her, actually craved for more for some unknown reason.

She really needed someone to talk to, but she wasn’t quite comfortable talking to Narcissa. Honestly, the woman was his mother! “So, did you and Draco have fun last night?” the woman asked as they walked up to a building Hermione hadn’t seen before.

The young Gryffindor knew her face was red. “Um…” she swallowed, not really knowing how to respond. “Uh, yeah.”

Narcissa wrinkled her nose. “Oh, come now, darling. There’s no reason to be bashful,” she said, sniffing. She opened the door to the building and they walked in.

Hermione was taken aback by the smells of perfume and nail polish and hair products. Witches of all ages were lounging about in chairs or on couches. Some sat at different tables or on stools getting their hair or nails done.

Like an expert, Narcissa led the Muggle born up to the counter to get them checked in. “Hermione Granger and Narcissa Malfoy,” the witch told the receptionist.

“Oh, a new girl?” the receptionist asked.

Hermione looked at her and could see that she was young. The girl had a brunette bob and subtle makeup that brought out her natural beauty. Her sky blue robes highlighted her trim waist instead of hide it, like most uniforms tended to do. The Muggle born smiled kindly at the girl.

“She’s Draco’s girlfriend,” Narcissa explained in a light tone. She gave Hermione a kind, though sad, smile. “Lucius has told me that she comes from an excellent family, and we all know the part she played during the war.”

The girl nodded. “Oh, yes,” she said, her eyes widening as she looked at Hermione. “It is such an honour to have you with us, Miss Granger. I do hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” the Muggle born said as another girl with a clipboard approached them.

“Mrs. Malfoy?” the girl asked, glancing at her board and checking something off.

“Good afternoon, Miss Flint,” Narcissa greeted.

Hermione’s eyes widened. Miss Flint? She looked at the girl and could almost see a female version of Marcus Flint, though that was wrong. This girl wore glasses and kept her jet black hair up in a messy bun.

The girl’s dark eyes glanced up and Hermione could clearly see the family resemblance. “To you as well, ma’am. Right this way.”

They were led to a private room that had two large tubs sitting side by side. “I hope you don’t mind, Miss Granger,” the older witch said, “but I took the liberty of requesting this room because I wasn’t sure what your comfort level would be.”

Hermione smiled softly and bowed her head. “I appreciate that, Mrs. Malfoy.”

“Oh, please, call me ‘Cissy’,” the lady said as she took off her outer robes and hung them up on a coat rack. “I do hope you don’t mind starting with a soak.”

Two witches entered the room and Hermione watched them as she fiddled with her own robes. “Not at all,” she said distractedly. “My mum has brought me to the spa a few times, so I am a bit familiar with the concept, though we usually went just to get our nails and hair done.” One of the witches took the robes from Hermione and handed her a bathing robe that she pulled around her arms. “And you could call me Hermione, if you like,” she added as an afterthought.

Narcissa smiled as she sat down in her tub. Mimicking the Pureblood witch, Hermione handed the bathrobe back to the tending witch and stepped into her own tub. The tubs weren’t large, but were big enough that Hermione was able to stretch out comfortably. One of the tending witches tucked a towel behind Hermione’s head and the Muggle born leaned back against the tub and sighed. The warm, fragrant waters did miracles to ease the tension Hermione didn’t realize she had.

“So, Hermione,” the older witch said after a while, “do you have any plans after you graduate?”

Hermione smiled serenely. “Oh, yes, ma’am,” she told her. “I was thinking of getting a job in the Department of Control and Regulations of Magical Creatures. I want to put an end to house-elf abuse and gain better rights for werewolves and centaurs. These are intelligent creatures and they deserve our respect.”

The Muggle born heard the tending witches scoff as they set towels out for Hermione and Narcissa, but she ignored them. Narcissa lifted a brow. “Most people, particularly old wizarding families, see house elves as property and believe it is up to the owner, and not the government, on how they should be treated.”

Hermione frowned. “It was that backwards thinking that got Sirius Black killed and Dobby freed,” she muttered. “And because of that thinking, I’ve seen house elves not only turn on their masters but wallow into despair because they did not feel as though they were good enough.”

“Dobby?” the Pureblood questioned curiously.

Hermione nodded. “Yes, ma’am. The same elf who used to serve your family before your husband was tricked into freeing him.”

Narcissa smiled. “Yes, that was a very clever move on Mr. Potter’s part if I recall correctly,” she said, sounding… impressed? Then, she gave a tinkling sound that Hermione immediately recognized as a laugh. “You should have seen Lucius in the months that followed. “He was so angry that Dobby had been lost to us, but I had been telling him for years that he needed to treat the elf better. You should know that it was Dobby that convinced Draco to be kind to our elves. Well, in a way. Draco had always liked the little elf and was more than distraught that he was gone, but up until that point, Draco had treated him much the same as Lucius had. It was a hard lesson, indeed, but I was so glad my son had the chance to learn it.”

That wasn’t at all what Hermione had been expecting. “Draco never said…”

“Of course not, darling,” the older witch interrupted. “It doesn’t do to linger on the past much, does it? How is Dobby, by the way?”

“Oh, um,” Hermione actually had to think on it for a moment as she hadn’t expected this conversation. “He’s doing well,” she said finally. “He works at the school now, helping to prepare meals in the kitchens. Dumbledore even gives him a salary and provides him with days off whenever he desires it.”

A smile graced Narcissa’s features as she nodded. “Oh, good,” she sighed as she let her head fall back against her own towel. “I am glad to hear he’s in a better place. Merlin knows he deserves it.”

The conversation continued as such, much to Hermione’s surprise. Narcissa was more than interested in her dreams and hopes for the future, though the Muggle born had to stifle a smile when the older witch began promoting her son.

“I am so proud of my boy,” the woman was saying. “He’s come such a long way from the child he once was, though I’m not sure he ever truly believed the dribble his father and grandfather preached. Especially once he started going to Hogwarts. Don’t let on that I’ve told you this, Hermione, but I do believe he’s been smitten with you since your first year. I remember when he returned home for Christmas and again for your summer break. If he wasn’t complaining about Mr. Potter, than he was constantly whining about you. Good lord, I never thought I would hear the end of it!” She let out a giggle. “And Lucius kept trying to use your good grades to push Draco into studying more. Did you know he spent the entire summer that year reading his next year’s books so he could, hopefully, have some jumpstart into the year? Imagine his surprise when his plan failed.”

“You seem far too happy about this,” the Muggle born observed in amusement.

“Oh, of course,” Narcissa stated. “When you have only one child, unable to conceive more, you tend to overindulge their desires. I take responsibility for that, though Lucius played his part in it as well. I was just thankful someone had come along who could put my son in his place. To challenge him and make him actually work for a change. Don’t get me wrong, neither Lucius nor myself entertained poor grades or sloppiness, but having you there helped give Draco the… What is it called? ‘Umph?’”

The young witch found herself giggling. She liked this candid, carefree Narcissa. “My parents have always been strict,” she admitted. “Any points lost was, and is, frowned upon. Honestly, I was a bit nervous to get into a relationship with Draco. I was worried about how it would affect my grades.”

“It hasn’t, has it?” the woman asked, glancing at Hermione.

The Muggle born shook her head. “It’s a bit daunting sometimes because he can be a bit… forceful, but for the most part, everything is going well. In fact, we’ve even formed a bit of a study group and we help each other as well as others.”

“Forceful,” the Pureblood repeated thoughtfully. “Yes, he gets that from his father. The Malfoy men like to be in control. I remember when Lucius and I first started dating, his father was always with some witch or another. This was, of course, during the first war, when the Dark Lord was just starting to gain power. Abraxas was determined to see his son succeed. To have Lucius not just outshine the other Death Eaters, but to be the best, but they also work undercover. Anything the Dark Lord wanted done in secret, Lucius was the man to do it.”

Hermione didn’t really care for talk of Voldemort or his supporters. “They were bad things,” she said softly, looking down at the water she sat in.

Narcissa inclined her head. “They were,” she conceded at length. “But Lucius didn’t always know that. None of us really did and his father went to the grave believing it.” She glanced at the younger witch, catching the forlorn expression on the Muggle born’s face. “I do hope you understand, Hermione. There is an old saying, ‘People are a product of their environment.’ This is very true, even amongst us Purebloods. There was real fear in the past, true hurts caused by Muggles who didn’t understand the power we wield, but wished to possess it for themselves. Greed is a human condition and it’s something we all share, some more than others.”

“But all those things are over now,” Hermione insisted. “The Wizarding World is free…”

“Free from what?” Narcissa asked curiously, tilting her head to the side. “Just wait, Hermione. One day you’ll have a little Half-blood babe of your own, whether by Draco or another wizard, and you’ll see. Do you know how much I dreamed as a young mother of taking my son into the Muggle market to buy sweets because he preferred those over chocolate cauldrons? But I couldn’t. What would have happened if I had and little Draco had some sort of sparkle of magic?”

“But Muggle borns go through that all the time,” the young witch stated.

“Did you go to primary school as well?” Narcissa asked.

“At first,” Hermione admitted. “But about two years later was when my magic came. Neither of my parents had any idea what was going on and staying in school became troublesome, so they hired a governess and I was homeschooled.”

Narcissa nodded again. “Draco’s never set foot in a primary school. It doesn’t bother me now as, like you, he had a governess, but with him being an only child, I would have liked to see him in a school with other children, much like he is now.” She sighed. “At the end of the day, wizards and witches aren’t as free as one would think. We’re not allowed to use our magic in the presence of Muggles, putting our children in affordable schools where they can learn with children their own age is difficult, if non-existent. Then, you have your Muggle borns who seem to be even more confused than the rest of us.”

The woman sat up and lifted a brow. “Think about it this way, Hermione,” she continued. “You spent the first eleven years of your life never knowing our world existed. If we were truly free, there would be a school dedicated to teaching children together, regardless of their ‘blood status’ and if a Muggle born is found, then they could receive the proper knowledge about our world that they need. A young mother could bring her child into a Muggle market, where things tend to be cheaper, without being ridiculed or accused of being a devil worshipper or having people claim her child is possessed.”

Hermione frowned. She had never thought of it like that. “But the Wizarding world is doing well…” she started, but hesitated.

“Are we?” the older witch asked. “Fifty some odd years ago a mad man was able to join our world and spout lies and half-truths. He gained followers, too, because he was so charming and a lot of his propaganda resonated with those of us who were simply looking to make this world a better place. He was wrong about Muggle borns,” she confessed, “that much we can agree on. But living our lives in secret? Hidden from the rest of the world? Can you think of any other race so repressed? And I haven’t even begun on those you wish to help, the werewolves and centaurs. Maybe even giants, too. The Dark Lord had a good argument. It was flawed, to be sure, but it made sense.”

“There has to be a way to do this without creating a mass genocide,” the Muggle born witch reasoned.

Narcissa inclined her head. “I agree, but what do you suggest?” she questioned. “You wish to change the world and have some major plans on how to do it. You have the right mind set, too. In order to change the world, we must start by changing some things about ourselves first. And the changes have started.”

“Yes. Voldemort is gone and the Ministry is being reconstructed,” Hermione surmised.

Narcissa gave her a knowing smile. “And a Muggle born girl won the heart of one of the wealthiest boys on this planet. A boy who is not only Pureblood, but comes from two of the oldest Pureblood families. That says a lot, my dear, whether you see it now or not.”

Hermione’s eyes widened as the tending witches returned and helped them both out of their tubs. Had she really made such a difference just by something as simple as dating Draco?

Author's Note: I am determined to post this fucking chapter! Lol! Stupid computer.

Schoolteacher623: Well, Draco is transitioning from boy to man. Hasn’t quite gotten it all figured out yet.

Sherlocked17: Lucius is delicious. One of my favourite characters to write.

Sheedy: Yeah. I wanted to write Narcissa as a strong character because she shows her strength in the last couple books.

Meeshs Wand: Thank you for your comment. I am trying to get them out as quickly as I can. ;)

DHr: I have been debating on whether I should respond to this or not, but I feel like I should. Given that you’ve proclaimed that you wouldn’t be reading anymore, I doubt you’ll read this, however, I’m going to respond anyway. You’ve made some pretty good points and I would like to address them individually, if I may.

First: I would like to applaud you. I have tried numerous times to write a horrifying rape that would get the response you gave. (Practicing for my novel that will be coming out in 20??) You’re not the first to comment on it and I doubt you’ll be the last. I really wish you would keep reading, though, as Astoria’s story isn’t finished yet. There will be justice for her. Or at least some form of it.

Second: Why is chivalry strictly a Gryffindor trait? And why can’t Slytherins practice it as well? Slytherins are steeped in tradition, especially the upper class. And chivalry is practice dating back to the Medieval times. It just makes sense to me that many Slytherins would still carry on the traditions. (Because it is about more than saving the damsel in distress, after all, and being brave in a moment of peril.)

Third: I’ve addressed this issue with Hermione’s comments on abortion. I am well aware that it is not dangerous for a woman to have one. However, there are reasons Hermione said what she said that will be addressed in the coming chapters. Just have a little faith in me. ;)

Fourth: Hermione isn’t aware that she was raped. Or at least, she hasn’t accepted it yet. She’s questioning herself, though. She knows that she didn’t give her consent, but at the same time, she doesn’t know that Draco knew she was a virgin. So, her mind is still trying to work through it. To process what’s happened. Yes, she’s the brightest witch of her age, but these sorts of things can throw people in a loop. With Astoria, it was easy. There’s no question about whether or not she was raped. With Hermione, however, it’s a little more difficult. And Draco has since showered her with affection and all the bells and whistles of being in love that it makes it even more confusing for her. “Did he really not know?” “Is he trying to make up for something?” These are the early stages of their relationship and Draco’s hitting it hard. He’s keeping her as distracted as he can to prevent her from analysing what’s really going on.

Fifth: I did warn that this would be a dark fic. I even stated, and I quote: “I'm already a quarter of the way through the next chapter and I'm telling you now, it's going to get a LOT darker.” And also: “There is torture in this chapter as well as a very well implied rape.” So, the warnings were there. “The direction my mind is going with this story gives it the potential of becoming even darker.” As you’ve obviously noticed, I wasn’t joking.

I am saddened that you’ve stopped reading this story, but I understand why. Also, I do thank you for providing me with the feedback I was looking for. Most people are too timid or shy to mention it when they see a problem.

Monkeymom: I hate those bloody peacocks, but I really do think they say a lot about who Lucius is. ;)

Anika_Cobriana: Working on it! :)

So, what did everyone think about the BDSM scene? Please let me know in the reviews! (Was it good?)
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