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Mudblood Fever and Lingerie	By : Tnteacups Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 36612 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters within. I am not, nor will not be making any money from 'Mudblood Fever and Lingerie.'

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Bathrooms and Butts

“You going home for the holidays, Hermione?” Ron asked over dinner; he’d just gotten a letter from Mrs. Weasley saying Harry and Hermione were invited for Christmas break.
“I’m afraid so, Ron,” She said, poking her fork into her kidney pie. “My parents are planning a trip to Italy.” She’d been the one to suggest it to them, unable to face christmas at Ron’s, where memories would run rampant.
“That sounds lovely!” Ginny threw in, beaming at Hermione. The brunette smiled back, glad for the escape from Ron and Lavender’s eye-sore of a relationship, as well as the confusing mess that was Malfoy. Even if only for a short while. He hadn’t ignored her until he was around his friends. He seemed determined to not even look at Hermione around them. She’d noticed Goyle watching her a couple times, and wondered if Draco had told his friends and decided he was done with her. She determined that if he was done, she would have to ignore him as well. She hadn’t sent him any notes or asked to meet him in over a week. Attempting to ignore the uncomfortable pang she felt whenever she looked at him, she found herself morbidly wondering if he and Ron both found someone better. Was she cursed?
Ginny had no insight, except for saying that he was a prat and not to be upset. Hermione kept remembering the desolation written on his face as he’d been telling her what was wrong. Couldn’t stop feeling his arms around her, returning her comforting words. She thought he’d gotten over his distaste of her parentage. Perhaps not.

Draco found himself trapped in his common room most evenings, forced to sit and banter with his fellow Slytherins, or just lounge, and prove there was nothing going on. Goyle hadn’t said a word about his suspicions in over a week, and the silence, as well as not being able to get close to Hermione without causing further unrest, were driving him mad. He was worried that if he acted rashly, Goyle would take his suspicions to someone else. He wasn’t smart enough to figure it out on his own, so he’d at least ask Crabbe’s opinion. Maybe others. He couldn’t risk anyone finding out. Especially Pansy. She’d been getting clingier as he pushed her away. She got jealous whenever he spoke to any girl, and she’d started a fight with a fourth year for looking too hard at him. He could only imagine what she’d do if she found out he’d been sleeping with Hermione Granger.
Potions had been one of the few days he’d been able to escape his friends, but the potion Slughorn had set them that day had shut off all conversations, and kept all eyes on their cauldrons. One girl had managed to set her robes on fire, and another singed her eyebrows by stirring to fast.
As the holidays approached, he felt his tension mount, unwilling to go home so pent up, and irritated. He needed a release. He needed Hermione. Two weeks after they’d last spoken, right after dinner, he excused himself from his friends, saying he was going to use the prefects bathroom for a ‘proper’ bath. He forced his feet to start slowly up the stairs, keeping a bored look as he was surrounded by other houses going to their dormitories. He could see the tall mop of red hair that marked where Hermione had to be walking, and followed it slowly, letting other Gryffindors pass him as his friends parted ways, to go to the dungeon. As soon as they were out of sight, he pulled his wand from his robes, hiding it in the black mass of cloth, and pushed his way through several groups of people.
“Diffindo!” He muttered, pointing his wand at Hermione’s bag. It split instantly, spilling it’s contents all over the floor.
Hermione gasped, and stopped, stooping to pick things up, narrowly saving a pot of ink from someone’s foot as they tried to step around her. Her two friends knelt to help her, scooping up her belongings, and shoving them in her bag. Hermione seemed to be sorting things before putting them in, taking twice as long as her friends to put things in her bag.
Draco thought quickly, thinking of how to get her friends to leave, or get her attention, without theirs. He was being shuffled past, with the crowd, unable to hide, and wait.
“Problems, Granger?” He shot over the heads of a couple second years as he passed, earning him glares from all three. Weasley made a rude gesture, earning a glare from a passing seventh year Ravenclaw.
He fought against the crowd, darting down a side corridor, hiding behind a suit of armor, waiting for them to pass again. As soon as the bushy brown hair was in sight, he pointed his wand again, repeating the spell.
Hermione’s things spilled across the ground for the second time.
“Bloody hell, Hermione, what’s wrong with your bag?” Weasley was saying, staring down at the contents that lay scattered.
“Probably too many books. You guys go ahead. I’m going to pop into the prefect’s bathroom to relax after I get it fixed.” She sounded vexed, as she knelt on the ground, inspecting the hole in the side of her bag, as though looking for weak threads, or worn patches.
“Alright. See you in the common room.” Potter said, waving as they departed, giving her a sympathetic look, and sharing a look with Weasley that said they probably had bags full of sweets, instead of books.
“See you.” Weasley was saying, walking away quickly, as though escaping. Was he worried she’d make him carry her books? Draco watched them both vanish, and saw Hermione look around suspiciously as she fixed her bag, and began placing things inside in an orderly fashion. Draco watched the last few people trickle down the corridor as she worked, and removed himself from his hiding spot.
“I hear you fancy a bath, Granger…” He said quietly, walking past her, and turning, to watch her stand, her bag sorted, her expression guarded. He walked backward, facing her as he spoke, heading down the hallway.
“I can give you a few tips on relaxing, if you like.” He winked, and spun around, turning the corner, and heading toward the hidden bathroom.
The footsteps he heard behind him told him she was following. His eyes swept the hall, searching for eavesdroppers, or anyone hiding. The corridor was deserted, and he slowed, letting the Gryffindor catch up as he reached the portrait.
“Mermaid scales.” He said, feeling displeased with the words on his tongue, as the door opened, allowing them entrance to the prefect’s bath. She followed him in silently, the door closing behind them as they entered the empty room.
“I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen anyone else in here…” Draco observed, looking around, and kneeling next to the tub, to turn a tap on.
“I noticed something similar. It’s actually several bathrooms. There’s a compression charm on the whole thing, making it all fit into what seems like one room, but when you give the password, what bathroom you get depends on what you’re expecting. I’m not sure how many there are, but whenever I come with another girl, I find it’s more likely to be a room with other girls in it, like a public bath.”
“Public bath?” Draco’s face twisted at the thought, and he looked again at the tub, half full of water, and pulled two towels from the rack, setting them next to the tub. Granger seemed to be standing well away, her cheeks pink, as though embarrassed to be here.
“They’re popular in Japan.” Her voice was quiet, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. She was fishing for something to talk about, suddenly shy. Draco grinned, removing his shoes and socks slowly, torturing her with how slowly he was setting them aside, looking at her the whole time.

Hermione’s anger at Draco ripping her bag twice had faded, replaced by intimidation as he stared her down, removing his clothes slowly. She’d followed him expecting another row, or maybe expecting him to grab her passionately, and make her forget her irritation. She hadn’t expected him to actually start the bath, or a conversation.
“Wouldn’t it be hard to relax in a bath with loads of other people?” He asked, sounding entirely baffled at the idea.
“I suppose, if it’s too noisy, or there are too many people.” Hermione conceded, preferring baths to herself as well. Ginny wasn’t a terrible bathmate, but it was more of a fun time, than a relaxing one, gossiping, and trying new taps.
“Even though it’s a walk from the dungeons, I prefer this one to the one in the dormitory.” Draco said, pulling his robe over his head, and folding it neatly, setting it aside, and standing in only his boxers.
“Oh?” Hermione said, her voice barely above a squeak, feeling her face burn bright red, and looking around, as though she’d never inspected the place before. The slowness of him preparing calmly for a bath had set her on edge, and she found herself feeling suddenly self-conscious. He previously hadn’t given her time to feel this embarrased.
“It’s similar to the one I have at home.” He said, turning the tap off, and approaching her slowly. Hermione looked at him, gawking at his words.
“You have a bath like this at your house?” She asked, trying to imagine the room squished into her own parents’ small home.
“This one’s bigger, and the decorations are way different, but it’s more like this one, than the one in the dormitory.” He said, shrugging, and taking hold of her hand, to lead her to a bench near the wall. She sat down, letting him kneel before her.
“That’s…” She paused, wanting to say ‘ridiculous’, or ‘excessive’, but wondering if he’d be offended. “Wow.” She said, drawing his eyes as he removed her shoes for her, and her socks, her legs tingling where his fingers skimmed her skin.
“My parent’s bath is even better,” he smirked, his fingers brushing against her toes as he pushed her sock off, setting it on the bench next to her, and the other removed items. “It’s at least this big, but has fewer taps. And a few more charms, making the floor warm to walk on,” He said, as he pulled her to her feet, her bare skin touching the cold stones. “And the water never goes cold while you’re in it. The towels are even warm. It’s got a small waterfall from the west ceiling, and a door that leads right into their closets.” Hermione said nothing, astounded by what he’d described. Was he playing with her, or telling the truth? She decided to tell Ginny about it later, and see what she thought.
“I’m not allowed to bathe in there anymore, since I’ve got my own bathroom, but if they go out of town, I always sneak in.” He was grinning mischievously at her as he pulled her own robe over her head, and set it aside, looking into her eyes, instead of her bared body, or knickers.
“That’s nice.” She said, imagining bathing under a waterfall. Would it be painful, or more like a massage?
“What’s a muggle lavatory like?” Malfoy said, surprising her with the question, and the curiosity in his eyes.
“More like the ones in the dormitories. The richer muggles have larger ones, with fancier things, but most muggles have one or two per house, that are about the size of those, with showers, and the toilets in the same room.” She looked toward the door behind which the toilets were, wondering if his bathroom shared the separation. The look on his face said so.
“Showers? Muggle bathrooms leak?” He seemed confused.
“No, not like that. A shower is… Like a standing tub, but the water doesn’t stay. Like a waterfall, but from one faucet, above your head, and it drains right out.”
“Oh.” He seemed to have trouble picturing it, the look on his face making Hermione giggle.
“There’s a door, or curtain to keep it from getting the whole bathroom wet, and a very small tub to keep it from splashing out. Sometimes only a couple inches high.” His face scrunched, as if trying to imagine it. Hermione’s embarrassment was fading, the comfortable conversation putting her nerves at ease, and she laughed, thinking of a way to explain.
“I can bring a picture after the holidays, and show you.” She offered, feeling strange, sharing bits of her life with him. She’d offered to share with Ron, and been turned down, his father’s obsession making him uninterested in seeing more.
“Sure.” Draco smiled, seeming genuinely curious, and unabashed. He was pulling her closer, his hand sliding around her, unclasping her bra as they spoke, comfortably pulling the fabric away. His fingers trailed after it, touched her ribs, and breasts, his eyes holding hers. Their conversation seemed entirely awkward, and distracting from the intimate way he undressed her, touching her slightly here and there, making her skin prickle with goosebumps.
“Granger…” His face was an inch from hers, his hands had slid down her back, their bare chests pressed together, his fingers skimming her hips, and gently squeezing her ass. His expression seemed almost confused. “Are you wearing a thong?”

Draco watched her face turn red again, coming close to Weasley’s hair color as he gripped her bare cheeks, his fingers pressing into soft, pliable flesh. It was like a dream come true, the lacy black underwear perfect, and sexy.
“Do you like it?” Her voice was meek, but her smile was seductive. Her blushing cheeks complimenting her sparkling eyes. The perfect mixture of sultry, and coy. Was she not used to going this slowly? Did she find it easier to simply lose herself from the start? Draco found her nervousness endearing, encouraging him to continue toying with her, curious just how long she’d take to get comfortable.
“It’s beyond sexy,” he replied, letting his fingertips dig in slightly, his lips brush against her ear. She shivered against him, her hands tracing their way up his arms, to his shoulders. “Show me?” He asked, layering his voice with every ounce of desire he felt, and an ounce of demand, moving slightly back from her. Her face was still red, and her eyes widened at his request, bashful, and embarrassed to be watched. She let her arms fall from his shoulders slowly, staring into his eyes, searching them as she stepped away. She’d played along with his humiliation games in the heat of the moment. Would she play along when there was no offered reward as an excuse?
She turned, letting him stare as she spun, cooperating with his perverse amusement. It was over too soon, and he stood back a few more steps, eyeing her with a calculating look. He enjoyed the black lace almost as much as he enjoyed her bare skin. He wondered which was more embarrassing for her.
“Is this more embarrassing than being naked?” He asked, unable to contain his curiosity, watching as she tried to hide her face.
“I’m not sure,” she answered, and he could see her thinking about it. “I suppose it could be, since it feels like you’re thinking about it more, rather than just acting on it…” She tried to explain.
“Are you willing to be more embarrassed?” He asked, his mind going faster than a Firebolt as he thought of what he’d like to do to her.
“I… I suppose.” She said, unable to look him in the eye. He smiled wolfishly, loving that she was so obliging. He’d only managed to get Pansy to play his games, and she’d whined through most of it.
“Kneel on the floor, on your hands and knees.” He ordered, excitement making it hard to control his voice. She did what he asked, sinking slowly to her knees, and then all fours, glancing up at him once in place. He stepped around behind her, enjoying the view of her perfectly shaped ass, and the eyes peeking around her mass of hair at him. She was just as curious to see where this would go as she was self-conscious.
“Spread your legs more,” he said, tapping her foot with his, savoring how quickly she obeyed. “That’s beautiful.” He said, the image of her on the ground almost perfect.
“Thank you…” Her voice was quiet, and bashful, bringing a smile to his lips.
“Don’t thank me, yet, Granger.” He said villainously, enjoying how her eyes shot to his, fear written across her face. She was worried, but she wasn’t running.
“Rub yourself.” He said, staring straight into her brown eyes, loving how her face changed from fear to chagrin. He watched silently as she gave him a defiant look for a few seconds, then sighed, and lifted her hand, sliding it between her legs, and pressing her fingers into her panties, stroking back and forth. Her head sank, looking toward the floor instead of at him, and he let her touch herself for a few moments, amused at how forced, and unpleased she seemed.
“Move your knickers to the side,” he ordered, watching as her fingers slid easily under the fabric, and slid it out of the way. “Farther.” He encouraged, looking at her exposed pink folds. She pulled it farther to the side, exposing more of herself, and relieving herself of her dignity.
“Hold it there.” He said, finally moving closer, and crouching behind her. Her muscles were taut as he knelt, looking closer at what she was revealing. Her whole body looked tense, and she gasped when he touched her. His hand grazed her back, and gripped her ass, making her back arch with the sensation. He let his other hand run up her inner thigh, and skim across the very edges of her sex, barely touching, but spreading the slick moisture that seemed to have soaked her knickers before she pulled them away.
“You’re enjoying being humiliated, Granger,” he observed, sliding his fingers back into the wetness, and giving her ass another squeeze. “Should I make it worse?” He offered.
“N-no…” She protested, her voice cracking on the short word, her head shaking harshly side to side, her hair bouncing around.
“Are you sure?” He asked, recognizing the embarrassment and enjoyment in her answer. She wanted more, but was too ashamed to ask for it. No other girl had really enjoyed letting him do this. No other girl had been aroused by his perversion, or so responsive. He grinned, touching her gently one more time, and moving away, stripping his boxers easily.

Hermione trembled, his fingers sending shivers through her as he touched her softly, her eyes squeezed tight, waiting for him to go further. She heard him scoot away, and his boxers shuffling on the floor away from them. She held her breath, listening for his reapproach, waiting for him to take her.
A soft splash made her turn her head, searching for the source. His head was bobbing just above the thick pink bubbles, right inside the pool-sized bath.
“Care to join me?” He asked, grinning impishly at her. She immediately sat up, putting her hands on her thighs, and staring down at him with disbelief, and indignation. “You said ‘no’.” He reminded her, making her glare as she slid to the edge of the tub. She didn’t tell him what she’d been thinking, seeing clearly on his face that he already knew she’d wanted him to keep going. She slid her panties off, and left them next to the tub, joining him in the bath.
A/N: Thiis chapter is mostly unedited, and I'm waiting for my lovely Final to catch up, since this one was twice the length of the previous chapters. I'll re-upload the edited versions of this and all future chapters as he gets to them. Please forgive any stuttering sentences, or awkward errors!
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Mudblood Fever and Lingerie