Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Sex Ed	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 39683 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I don't own the characters, the ideas, or the books. I just like to imagine in JK's world for a bit. I am not making a profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Thank you, WayMay, for feeding me plot bunnies when I hit a wall with how to begin this chapter. And now, the plot thickens. Bwahahaha. I couldn't (and shouldn't) do this without you.
~A.
One, two, three, they gonna run back to me
'Cause I'm the best baby that they never gotta keep
One, two, three, they gonna run back to me
They always wanna come, but they never wanna leave
Ex's and the oh, oh, oh's they haunt me
Like gho-o-osts they want me to make 'em all, all, all
They won't let go
Ex's and oh's
"Ex's and Oh's" by Elle King
When Draco arrived back in his dormitory that evening, after having just spent one of the most enjoyable afternoons anyone could have in a broom closet, he began to ponder at how he'd managed to let this go so far. When Headmistress McGonagall had briefed the entire staff of a new class being implemented for general Health and Biology, he hadn't thought twice about what that would mean to him. He assumed the children would learn a bit about cells. He never imagined that it would be Hermione Granger instructing the class, and he most certainly did not picture himself being forced to confront her on such ostentatious lessons. But, as he undid the clasp of his robes and stared at the brazen hickeys along his lower throat, he was glad it all happened. Never, in a million years, did he think he would have begun to fall for the pushy bookworm from his graduating year, but… he had. Slowly, but surely, he was fighting a battle with his heart that he knew he could never win.
When had infatuation turned into something else entirely?
When did he let himself succumb to such a dangerous notion as feelings?
He plucked up a bottle of brandy he kept for just these occasions and attempted to drown those cursed emotions out of his body. Draco didn't even bother to pour a glass -he simply pulled off the stopper and chugged mercilessly. The liquor burned, but it was pleasant compared to the loneliness he felt at her absence. He could still feel her on his skin as he pried off his clothing. Standing stark nude in his bedroom, Draco wanted nothing more than for Hermione to show up with some excuse to see him just so he could have his way with her again. After another long pull from the crystal bottle, he slipped on a pair of lounge pants and double checked that he locked the door. Then he pulled out a small cigar box from under his pillow and opened it to reveal the breathtaking photos he snapped that night he'd invited her to his dormitory. He spread them out across his desk, eyeing each one with diligent detail. He admired the softness of her face, the subtle curves of her body, the way her eyebrows worked together to express her disdain at him snapping that first picture without her permission. An urge overtook him to take a new set of photos, but this time with her beneath him as he thrust his cock between her legs. She'd looked so beautiful riding him earlier today…
"You'll be the death of me, Granger," he muttered, touching his fingers to one of the photos as he took another sip of his brandy. And it wasn't just her body that he admired. He enjoyed the way she bantered back and forth with him, and he adored the way she challenged him. She was physically and spiritually stimulating; never before had a woman held his interest for so long. He used to grow bored of the women his family would set him up with – and at the mention of marriage, he ,instantly, became an ass to each and every one of them just so they would refuse another date. He never wanted to be tied down to any one person, but now he knew he didn't want to pursue anyone else.
He wanted Hermione Granger. In his bed. In his life. Damn it.
This was going to be an interesting adventure, indeed.
"I'm glad we're doing this, Gin. I haven't had a girls' day in forever." Hermione closed her eyes as her best friend painted the last bits of periwinkle blue polish onto her toenails. "And thank you for helping me select a dress for tonight."
"That's what best friends are for, right?" Ginny wore a devilish grin when Hermione opened her eyes again. A siren-red bottle of fresh polish was thrust into her hands as Ginny leaned back against the bed and brandished her toes out in front of Hermione's face. "Although, I have to say, I'm a bit disappointed you felt you couldn't tell me that the robust oral encounter you procured came from none other than Slytherin's poster-child. Did you honestly think I wouldn't put two and two together when Neville spilled the beans about your food fight fiasco?"
"I had no idea he'd be so detailed," Hermione answered honestly. "So you caught on to the blueberries. I'm proud of you for that. -I'm just surprised Neville noticed what I was eating."
"He still fancies you a bit, Herms. Of course, he's going to notice anything you bring to those lips." Ginny gave a small wink. "And I'm sure Malfoy noticed as well?"
Blushing violently, Hermione grabbed Ginny's foot and set to work painting it, hoping to occupy her time. But her best friend was relentless with her staring, and she caved after only moments. "We may or may not have had a… romp in a broom closet last weekend."
"A romp?" The red-head practically squealed. "What's a romp? Do you mean clothes on? Clothes off? Were pelvises gyrating?"
"All of the above."
"You cheeky witch!" Ginny shot up arrow straight, and Hermione had to grasp at her foot to keep it from flying straight up into her face. "Is that when he asked you to dinner?"
"No. He asked before."
"So you think he likes you?"
"I believe so, yes." These questions, though common amongst besties, held a weight to them that had Hermione suffocating under the crippling doubts in her head. She hoped that this adventurous turn in her endeavors with Draco would clear her mind of any hesitations, but instead, it just brought up questions after questions. He meant to court her, so did that mean he intended to bring this to a relationship at some point? What kind of repercussions would they endure as a result? Would she receive death threats from his family or perhaps scorned ex-lovers? Did he mean for her to be something to enjoy while they worked together and nothing else? What if she found that he was a bore conversationally? What if they had nothing more between them but unbridled passion and need to touch each other? He was scarring her heart with the sound of his voice and the tone of his laugh and the smell of his skin. Somehow, Draco Malfoy was tearing up her heart in the most exquisite way possible. And she loved every moment of it.
Ginny noticed the brunette's apprehension and patted her on the cheek, stirring her back to reality. "You'll be okay. -Listen, while I have you here, I wanted to talk to you about something…"
"What is it?"
"You remember I told you Neville had lunch with us all last weekend? That's how I figured out the bit about the blueberries-"
"Yes, Gin." Hermione felt her patience wavering. "Get on with it."
"Well… Neville was sort of under the impression that you dumped Malfoy, same as him. When I told him that he shouldn't assume, Ron got all bent out of shape about it. He told Neville that he better swoop in quick, or he was going to do it."
At the words, the curly-haired witch couldn't help but burst out into laughter. "What does he think I'll do? Say, 'Oh, Ronnikins, I've missed you!' and take him back?"
"I dunno. But he was really miffed when I told Neville he probably didn't stand a chance because Malfoy probably already had it in with you. I'd just… be cautious of who you tell, until you know exactly where you two stand on things. I wouldn't put it past Ron to pull another stunt like he did in Hogsmeade."
"I would hope not," Hermione said, shooting her friend a horrified expression. "There were a lot of parents who wrote McGonagall once they'd heard an ex-Death Eater was teaching their children. It even went so far as to get Draco pulled into her office." She shuddered. "I don't want him getting sacked on account of me."
Ginny nodded slowly. "Maybe you talk this over with Malfoy? Let him know? If he's really a gentleman, as you say he's turned into, he'll respect you wanting to keep things private."
"But what if he takes it as a sign that I'm not interested in anything more?"
"Are you?" her friend asked her seriously. "Interested, I mean?"
"Very much so," she said, just as surprised as Ginny. They both giggled helplessly, and Hermione nodded in appreciation. "Yes, I'd say I am. It's not just the sex that's mind-blowing. He's quick witted and funny to boot. It's interesting -when he's not throwing hissy fits or insults, he's actually quite charming. -And for a long time, I thought him a prude, but-"
"Malfoy? A prude?" Ginny gasped.
"Well, that's how we got to talking in the first place. He hates the way I teach sexual education to the children. Or, at least, he did. Now, I believe he rather sees things my way."
"Ha! You bet your tight buns he does! He asked you to dinner. I wonder if he's the first Malfoy in centuries to do such a thing as court a muggleborn? -Tell me. Just how mind-blowing is the sex?"
"Gin!"
"What? A girl has needs! And I need to know!"
"You don't have needs. You have Harry to satisfy."
"Oh, come on. As if you never wondered, just once in your days at Hogwarts, what it would have been like to take a sexy Slytherin by his coattails and ride him silly? Especially a certain blonde?"
"No!" Hermione gasped. "I… no, I…"
"Liar!" Ginny tossed a pillow at Hermione and hit her square in the face. If she weren't holding on to the nail polish, she would have hexed her friend right then and there. As it were, she purposefully drew a bright red line up Ginny's foot, and the red-head squawked in protest. "Oh, the nerve, Hermione!" She smirked wildly and threw another pillow. This one knocked the bottle down into Hermione's lap, staining her jeans in crimson.
"Now look what you've done."
"Do you think you'll get randy tonight with him?" Her friend asked, ignoring the disdained glare set upon her. "It isn't that time of the month, is it?"
"No, Gin. No, it isn't. I just… oh, I don't know what to think." She gave up trying to wipe away the nail polish and waved her wand, cleaning up the mess. "All I know is that I fancy him. I really do. Bugger it all… I fancy Draco Malfoy." She blushed violently and picked up the nearby pillow, screaming into it. When she was through, she looked over to Ginny and sighed. "I'm utterly astonished."
"I'm not. His entire family are tossers, but if you were ever going to go with a Malfoy, he's the one. Charm, good looks, oodles of cash-"
"I don't care about money. Or good looks. Though they do tend to be a feature well-worn on him…" She shook her head. "But I think he's changed, underneath it all. For the better."
"How big is his…" Ginny whistled, nudging down. "Broomstick?"
"I am not having this conversation with you!"
"Come on! Indulge me a little. -Is it little?"
"Of course, it's not little!"
"It's big, then."
"Yes. It's ginormous! Practically a gargantuan sized cock! Is that what you want to hear, Ginerva Weasley?"
"If it were true, then yes!"
Hermione's ears flushed cherry pink, and she answered in a hushed whisper, "He's adequately sized, and he knows how to… maneuver it."
"Ooh, splendid."
"And he's rather amazing at sensual talk."
"Is he?"
"Yes."
"Fascinating." Ginny soaked it all up like a sponge to water. "Is he kinky?"
"I…" Hermione debated, deciding on not divulging the list, but giving her friend a taste of some of the things he had checked off. "He's adventurous, for sure. He's entertained the idea of tie-ups and hot wax and… submission."
Her friend gave a small groan, biting her lower lip. "Damn it. The most I can get Harry to consider is a bit of blindfolding and feather dusters. –You need to make this happen, Hermione. You need to use that Gryffindor prowess and charm the snake like putty in your hands. -Now, let's go on to the subject of your hair. Shouldn't we straighten it?"
"No."
"Just for one night! Come on!"
"No!"
"Your hair looks wonderful," said Draco, taking step after careful step towards the light of the lamp post, where a stunning creature in a blue, suede dress with no sleeves and a plunging neckline stood, trembling as her earth-toned eyes met his silver stare. They'd promised to meet in Hogsmeade at precisely 6 PM under the same lamp post that Ron Weasley had made an arse out of himself. Draco knew Hermione had requested time away from school this afternoon to tend to 'personal arrangements,' which he could only guess meant letting her best friend dress her up like a china doll. A very sexy… china doll… with long, silky legs… and tight curves that made him want to bend her over that trash can and… focus, Draco!
"I… thank you." Hermione blushed, patting at her straightened hair that was fashioned in a tight bun at the back of her head. "Ginny wouldn't let me leave her flat without… I wouldn't have…"
"For once, a Weasley was right." He nodded, giving her an impressed grin. "Stop looking like you've been shot in the foot. You're ruining the allure."
"I think that was a compliment, but I'm not sure."
"Eh, it was somewhere in the mix." He offered out his arm, letting her eye over his attire of a simple white button up and gray dress slacks. He wore a green tie around his neck, bringing out the paleness of his skin. She chewed on her lower lip, and he had to remind himself that he asked her to dinner and not a shag. Much to his delight, she took the arm and coiled a seductive, toned arm around his until she was right against him. "Hungry?"
"Famished, actually," she admitted, and he gave her a smirk to weaken her knees.
"Good. My friend, Theo, is a chef in the new restaurant that opened up around the corner. Maybe you've heard of it?"
He watched the wheels in her head turn, and she gasped. "No. You're not talking about Serpent Noir?"
"And if I am?"
"Then… that means you really do have a friend, because it just opened up a few weekends ago, and there's no way anyone could get a table unless already having booked it weeks out."
"Like I said, I know the chef," Draco grinned, enjoying the surprise on her face as he led her across the bustling streets of Hogsmeade. With a nervous edginess in his movements, he slowly grazed his free hand over to the one around his arm and squeezed her hand as they walked. He made a decision that he would at least do that much; he didn't want to spook her, especially after becoming so very intimate last week. For all he knew, this was just something for the witch to do for fun. Maybe, in secret, she got her rocks off by luring unassuming men to their metaphorical deaths by playing hooky with their hearts? Or, perhaps, she was actually Hermione Granger, exactly who he thought she might be and was just as nervous as he was. To his surprise, she squeezed his hand back and leaned her cheek against his shoulder. Oh. Now this was peculiar. She was initiating contact back. Hmm.
They approached the bustling restaurant and were seated within moments of their arrival. Theo, thank Merlin, had come through as promised, giving him a corner table, away from the prying eyes should a certain red-headed git decide to crash their party. His Malfoy manners still intact from years of grooming, he pulled the chair out for her, and when she was seated, he took a chair across from her, flashing a sideways smirk at her still bewildered stare. "Something wrong?"
"I… I don't believe I ever thought I'd be setting foot in this restaurant is all."
There was a tightness in Draco's chest, and he asked, "Do you not want to be here?"
"No!" she exclaimed, shaking her head. "Oh, heavens no. I… I'm just flattered. Ron's idea of a date was always his mother's beef stew and a round of Quidditch with Harry after."
"That sounds… terrible."
"It was."
They both laughed, and Draco felt a bit more at ease when their server approached the table. He ordered them a bottle of fine red wine and an appetizer. When they were tucked safely away out of earshot of anyone, he leaned carefully back in his chair and grinned. "Let's play a game."
"Game?" she asked, her beautiful coral lipstick accentuating the half-smile brought forth from his words. He nodded, having never felt more comfortable with a woman in a social setting. Sure, they were in a lavish restaurant with snooty people all around, but with her, it felt… simple. Like they were the only two there, and everyone else might as well have been cardboard cutouts. "Alright, I'm game. What is it?"
"Let's look about the room and each pick out a table for the other one. Whatever table is selected, the other must then make up a presumable story as to what is happening in that moment. The snarkier, the better."
"Is this what Slytherin-alumni do in their spare time? Analyze?"
"Just a habit I picked up from my mother when I was forced to attend her terrible luncheons. When I was little, it'd help break the ice if I imagined I already had a story for everyone there. But I want to know how that pretty little mind of yours works, so… yes. I want to analyze, but only because I want to know what you'd say." He waited patiently for her response.
The witch's eyes lit up in daring fascination at the challenge, and with a quick succession of small nods, she agreed. "Right. I think you should go first." She scanned her eyes discreetly about the room and nudged her head over to a couple not too far off from them in a center table. "Them."
"Them?" He chuckled. "Oh, you make this too easy for me." He eyed the man, who looked as if he could be about thirty-five, balding but not fully gone, hair a bit too black to be anything but dyed in a desperate attempt to look younger and impress his date; a much too thin blonde woman with considerable reconstructive charms to her lips, eyes, and nose. "His name's… Darby."
"We give them names, too?"
"Adds to the appeal. Now shush." Draco smirked, winking at her. "Darby works in accounting, and is magnificent with money, though he spends it all on hiring lovely little jewels like the one across from him to cover up the fact that, deep down inside, he swings for the other team and has a hairy foot fetish." He could hardly contain his excitement as Hermione giggled into her napkin, attempting to stifle her laughter with a couple of short coughs.
"And the woman?"
"Her name is Penelope Van Wanderlust. Inwardly, she wants to be a man, but that frightens her, so she gets every Godric-forsaken procedure known to wizard to look more desirable. She's a Capricorn, and enjoys going down on women in her spare time." With a vicious quirk to his eyebrow, he nudged his chin at her. "Your turn. The family of four at your two o'clock. Be discrete."
She glanced over once, eyes widening, and nodded. "I've got just the thing. The portly gentleman with the thicker mustache… he's a distributor of hemorrhoid potions and salves. Got into the business because he always needed them himself, and wanted to help out his fellow wizard. His wife, Justine, is sleeping with the younger gentleman to her left, Captain Elliot, no last name."
"He's a captain, is he?"
"Captain of the U.S.S. Paddle-bottom."
Draco snorted a laugh into his sleeve louder than he meant to. He pulled back a few stray chuckles. "Oh, well, go on. Don't leave me hanging. And the girl, there?"
"She's Elliot's twin sister, Eleonore. She's planning on robbing both Justine and her husband after she shags them both senseless. That's how Elliot and Eleonore make their living."
"Shagging hemorrhoid infested couples and stealing their assets?"
"You've got it."
He reached across the table and took her hand, strumming his thumb across her knuckles. "You know, I think you and I are going to get on just fine."
"Had doubts?"
"I was rather worried you wouldn't be able to hold back your bossy, know-it-all attitude."
He watched her face flush red in heated aggravation. "I bet you think you're just so witty, don't you?"
"Most days."
"Well, I don't know why I expected you to be anything other than your pratty self."
"I don't know why you did, either." He smirked as the server poured them both a glass of wine. When they were alone again, he retracted his hand from hers and raised his glass. "To discovering new endeavors." She clinked glasses with him, but he noticed that she didn't bring the stemmed glass to her lips. He took a quick sip and narrowed his eyes. "What?"
"I just… is that what we're doing? Discovering new endeavors?"
"Aren't we?"
"I mean… is that all we're doing?"
"We're on a dinner date. You want me to spell it out for you?"
Much to his surprise, she tilted the wine glass into her mouth and downed half the glass before setting it down on the table and nodding. "Yes, actually. Spelling challenge."
"D.A.T.E." He smirked. "I." Pause. "L.I.K.E." Pause. "Y.O.U."
"What does that spell?" She smiled meekly. Draco rolled his eyes, took another pull from his wine, and matched her smile with another heated smirk.
"Courting."
"Could you use it in a sentence?"
"I rather enjoyed courting you this evening, until you decided to become a prying, insistent specimen of self-doubt."
It was her turn to narrow eyes, and she tapped her finger along the long, crystal stem of her glass. "Is there a second meaning?"
Not wanting to be outdone, Draco gave her another explanation -one that he hoped would sate her. "I'm courting you, because I'd like this to go somewhere."
"Where, exactly?"
"I dunno…" He flickered his eyes down to the table, anxious. "My bedroom?"
"Draco, be serious."
"I'm perfectly serious."
"You know what I meant."
"Of course, I know bloody well want you meant," he sneered quietly. "I just don't know why I need to say it out loud after…" His voice grew even softer. "After becoming intimately acquainted with each other. Doesn't that tell you anything?"
"No. To a modern woman, a man could simply do such a thing and not even return her post, and that would be considered normal."
"Well, as you can see, we're here. At a very expensive venue. Sipping on wine. Bickering. So if that doesn't tell you exactly my intentions, considering I haven't gotten up and stormed out of here after your infuriating interrogation, I don't know what will please you except to say: I'd like to continue to date you. And then, possibly, develop something further. And then check off everything on that confounded list, and then make another, and then check off everything on that one as well." He pried his eyes up to hers and felt the warmth on his cheeks. "Happy?"
"Yes." She sat more comfortably in her chair and began nursing at her wine. "That's exactly what I needed to know."
"Great," he said through clenched teeth.
"Ron can't know."
The hairs on Draco's neck heckled, and he rolled his head around to loosen his tense shoulders. "Afraid of what dear Weasel-bee will have to say? Or are you just that ashamed?"
She looked genuinely hurt. "That's low, Draco."
"Well, what is it then?"
"He's out to get you sacked. Ginny practically told me that he means to make your life a living Hell if he found out that you and I were dating. I'm not saying that we hide behind lies. Just… maybe that we should hold off until the school term ends, and he's had more time to process it all."
Despite the idea of masking their blossoming connection from a particular red-headed toe rag, Draco heard the silver lining in her words and smirked. "So, you plan on us lasting that long, do you?"
"Don't you?"
"I'll admit, I'm not one to attempt things half-ass. So if I'm going to go into this, wands blazing, I expect to give it my all. And I don't accept failure very well."
"Neither do I." She broke out into a tiny smile. "So, we're doing this, then? I mean… I… what do I tell Ginny, I mean? She's going to ask eventually, and…"
"Exclusivity. -Is that the word you're looking for? Because I'm not looking at anyone else. Not by a long-shot."
"Same on this end."
"Good."
"And… we can't tell Neville, either."
"Oh, what the seven hells?"
"He's keeping an eye out for Ron!" She threw her hands into the air. "I'm just saying that unless we want to run the risk of Ron sabotaging your entire work front, we need to act professionally when Neville is around. That's all."
"Well, that takes away my bragging rights I was so looking forward to throwing around in his face," Draco smirked, crossing his arms. He considered it, and decided that, though he didn't like the idea, it was rather intelligent. They could tell Weasley about their newly found relationship after the summer had broken in, and he could have the entire season to stew about it without risking Draco's reputation as the Hogwarts Potions Professor. The last thing he wanted to do was get sacked and have to move back in with Mum and Dad. And even more importantly, he didn't want to move away and lose a chance to enjoy Hermione's company. "Fine, then. But to everyone else?"
She offered her wine glass out to the center of the table. "Exclusive new endeavors."
He grinned back at her, and they clinked glasses. "I'm going to take something exclusively off of that list tonight when we're done with dinner."
She gave him a cheeky wink. "I hope so, Mr. Malfoy. I hope so."
Neville wasn't sure why he decided to make his rounds down the Slytherin corridors on his patrol time. Maybe because it was so close to Hermione's dormitory, and he didn't much like the idea of Malfoy putting his hands anywhere near his friend. Maybe it was because, yet again, Hermione wasn't in her own room, even though it was close to nine in the evening.
He took his time walking down the lengthy, curving hallways, recalling that the potion's professor had a room off to himself. Maybe he'd just have a pop on by and pretend to request some sort of headache remedy (just to be sure Hermione wasn't there.) Ginny's words still hung around his head like a buzzing hornet nest, stinging him with images of Hermione cuddling up to the arrogant Malfoy heir. But Hermione wouldn't be that stupid… Ginny must be wrong. No, she wasn't seeing that git, and that was that… still…
He approached the door known to belong to Draco Malfoy with shaky steps, growing bolder by the moment until he tapped his knuckles along the wood and held his breath. He attempted his best 'aching head' face and feigned a groan. Curiously, no one answered. He knocked again, a bit more forceful, and the door swayed open ever so slightly, having not been shut all the way. Peculiar. So did that mean Malfoy wasn't at home, either?
He glanced behind him at the empty hallway and then forwards at the slightly ajar door. What if he just stepped in a moment? To have a look around? Maybe he could find something that would convince Hermione never to speak to the twat again, and solve his Ron/Malfoy dilemma without having to be shoved right back into that disheartening friend-zone again. If he didn't need to attempt another flirtatious episode, he could at least leave this whole situation with his pride intact when he was through.
'It's not really breaking and entering if the door is already open… Really, I'm just looking to make sure that there aren't any students planning a prank. Yeah, that's what I'll say if anyone sees me.'
He lit the tip of his wand, pushed the door open gently, and stepped inside. The room was quite dark, so when he shut the door behind him, he lit up the candles around the room one by one and began the grueling task of finding something incriminating on Draco Malfoy. To his dismay, there wasn't much to go off of. He liked Quidditch, and had a colorful array of broomsticks. He liked to drink; there was an empty brandy bottle sitting atop his nightstand. Even his desk was bizarrely pristine. The only other person he knew who kept a desk as tidy was Hermione herself.
Surely she hadn't cleaned his desk?
"Nah."
He almost thought about giving up the ghost, but got a bit braver and looked about half a moment more. He noticed that one of the pillows on Malfoy's bed stood a little taller than the other, and that raised his curiosity. Normally, he wouldn't bat an eye at something like that, but with the way Malfoy kept his room (with everything in its proper place) it felt… off. He pulled it up and discovered an expensive looking cigar box. Well, that was hardly incriminating, was it? So Malfoy liked to smoke? So what? Aside from a bit of ashy smell on his clothes, that would hardly deter Hermione away from a man that looked like that. He reached down to pick up the box, and that's when he noticed that it was rather… lightweight.
"Hmm…" He glanced around the room, shrugged, and sat down on Malfoy's bed, hands poised to open the rectangular container. "What could he possibly be hiding in here?"
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