Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Shiver	By : valkyrie136 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 21254 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to the fandom. J.K. Rowling does. I do not make any profit from Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
I am brought to the infirmary.
It seems Madame Pomfrey is absent, and so Malfoy turns to me.
‘Forgive me, Ms. Granger, but it seems the nurse is nowhere to be found.’ He walks up and down the aisles, calling her name but nothing.
Finally he returns to the end of the cot, ‘I know I can’t compete with the experience of Madame Pomfrey but I do have some experience in medicine. Personal experience,’ He emphasizes, and the unspoken reference to the battlefield is not lost on me.
But I am too much pain to care right now. All I know is if I ever get a hold of Hestia Carrow I will kill her.
Malfoy tugs the curtain around the cot and looks at me innocently, ‘For your privacy. Fortunately this did not happen when we were brewing dragon’s fire.’
I stare at him wide eye d horror, ‘Don’t, please—‘
He sighs,’Ms. Granger, please, I understand you may be embarrassed, but as your Professor, and the person responsible for your safety, I cannot in good conscience respect your wishes. ‘
I can’t argue with him, and he seems tiltilated,his eyes glittering, belying his true intentions.
I grit my teeth and prepare.
He lowers his hands and pulls apart my robes, exposing my bare and legs, now an angry red. He tsks, and begins to carefully remove my clothing. First my shoes, then my socks. His movements are precise and he moves with agonizing slowness.
I want to scream at him to hurry up and get it over with but I don’t want to listen to more lies about why he must do this.
I know he is enjoying this as much as I am hating it.
He then raises his hands, and I squeeze my eyes shuts as he tugs my skirt down, and then I open my eyes to see him patiently folding it.
Now I am laying in my panties, vest, blouse, and robes.
‘I think you would be more comfortable in a gown,’ He whispers softly, and I swallow bile.
Even if someone were to walk in, I doubt anyone would question his motive. I’m covered in potion, my skin is burned. If anything, they would congratulate him.
He helps me to sit up, and I stare directly ahead, not quite believing that Malfoy is undressing me.
He pulls my robe away, and vest, and after folding them, he sits on the edge of the cot, and slowly unbuttons my blouse.
I can feel his hip touching mine, and his head is bent over me, close enough that I can feel his breath, hot and sweet against my skin.
And I am further humiliated because I want to squeeze my legs together, because there is something unbearably erotic in the deliberate movements, and I don’t want to feel anything physical for him.
Then I start to question myself. Maybe I’m the one with ill intentions. Maybe this is all in my head. I don’t know anymore.
No, this is wrong. This is wrong.
He slides my blouse down my arms, and his finger tips trail down my arms , giving me goosebumps. And then he, thankfully, leaves my bra on but carefully pulls a gown over my head.
I lay back down, thinking that is it, but the final humiliation is about to come.
He slides the gown upland looks me dead in the eye, his face unreadable, ‘Forgive me, but I need to do something, and I don’t want to startle you. I must remove your panties, because you were drenched down there, and you may be burned.’
My face burns bright red, and I can’t even respond to this. He hooks his thumbs on either side and then yanks them down, and I stare in wide eyed shock.
Malfoy turns his back, pulling my gown down , and I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe this time he won’t do anything weird.
I can hear drawers opening and closing, and then his steps fade away.
As I lay there, thinking of how messed up this all is, he returns, and I stare at the items in his hands.
In his left, he holds a jar.
In the right, he holds an ewer with water.
‘I’ll just clean you up first. Don’t worry, I alerted Madame Pomfrey who should be here shortly.’
I swallow, ‘I I c-can do it myself.’
He frowns but sets the water down, ‘Very well, go ahead.’
I immediately reach for the water, but the movement causes me a great deal of pain. My body wants me to lay flat, because of the pain I feel when my body bends.
Please, please…
I grit my teeth and I can feel my face turning red with rage and I reach for the wash rag. Malfoy is watching me, arms crossed, and he makes no effort to help me, and there is no way in hell I am going to ask him.
I fumble and ultimately my movements send the water basin toppling over.
Frustrated I fling the rag at him and fall onto my back.
I can feel my eyes begin to tear and mentally will myself to stop while he patiently bends to collect the basin, ‘I understand you must feel embarrassed, but please, Ms. Granger, allow me to help you.’
I don’t say anything, and that is when Madame Pomfrey walks in, ‘What’s all this now?’
Draco opens his mouth but I am faster, ‘I want to do this myself.’
‘Are you crazy Ms. Granger? You’ve a nasty injury, and unfortunately I’ve been called to help with another student. Professor Malfoy seems more than equipped to handle this.’
‘But—‘
Malfoy smiles gently at me, and I can almost hear him crowing in delight.
‘No more talking. Professor, there is some cream in the cabinets you may rub on her legs. I’ll be back later to check on you Ms. Granger.’
And off she trots, blissfully unaware of the full extent of my injury.
Malfoy gives me a patronizing look before wandering off to refill the basin. He returns and sets it down, and sits on the edge of the cot. I grip the edges, and stare at the ceiling while he pulls the gown up above my knees.
And soon I feel the cloth, smooth, but painful against my leg. I grit my teeth and bite my cheek to keep from sobbing as he slowly wipes away potion, then dips it in.
Up and down, back and forth…and then I glance down and see him watching me intently, as his hands disappear beneath my gown, as he cleans my thighs.
‘This is too much. Ms. granger I apologize but I am going to have to move you, to get beneath your legs…’
I gape as he repositions my legs, bending them at the knee and spreads them wide, as if he were a gynecologist checking me.
He kneels between my thighs, and I want to run away, to flee, but right now that is not possible, because of my injury.
‘You scum,’
He hesitates, and then keeps those pale eyes fixated on me as he very deliberately drags his nails down my thighs, scratching me—but in this situation it is like someone is peeling back my skin.
I can’t help it, I release a loud cry of pain.
‘So sorry,’ He lightly says, and then begins to scrub my thighs, holding them still, and I am crying like a little girl by the time he dips the cloth back in the basin.
‘Almost done,’
And then, he dips his hands in the water and glances at me, ‘The cloth is filthy, and unfortunately we have no more. Don’t worry, I’ll use my hands for this last part.’
‘What—‘I gasp loudly, because I can feel his fingers, rubbing the V between my legs.
He leisurely slides his fingers between the slit, ‘Your very warm,’ And I try to shy away but he pins me down by digging his fingers into my thigh, ‘Be a good girl, Ms. Granger.’
I endure his humiliating exploration of my vagina, and an eternity passes before he seems satisfied. I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s over.
He stands up and just when I think it’s all done he returns...with a jar of cream.
And I shake my head, ‘Please, don’t…’
He ignores me, and begins the same ritual, beginning at my feet, rubbing in the crème which causes the pain to immediately disappear.
Next are my calves, and thighs…
And then he smears a descent amount into his hands and massages, massages it into my vagina…
I can’t help it, I begin to feel shivers of pleasure run through my body.
And he watches this all with glittering eyes, fascinated, it seems, by my response.
A finger enters my cunt.
And I nearly come off the cot.
He gently thrusts it in and out, all the while rubbing, rubbing my clit gently, and I focus on anything, to stop this from happening, but I have no control—convulsions wrack my body, and a euphoric haze washes over me.
I’m panting, and he gently pulls my gown down before walking around to whisper one word in my ear ‘Slut.’
And then he gathers up the cloth, the basin, and the jar and quietly quits the room.
And I bury my face in my hands and cry, because he’s right. I am a slut. What kind of girl enjoys being molested?
- 15
- 16
- 17
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Shiver