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Sex Ed	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 39682 -:- 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
- 16
- 17
- 18
Again, this chapter wouldn't have been made possible without the combined efforts of myself and WayMay! Way really keeps me on my toes, and this Neville plot bunny is hers, and her credit should be noted and given appropriate credit in the reviews! So please, so Waymay some love! She's keeping me on my toes to write a compelling story! *huggles*
~A.
Well I didn't know anything
Till I was told everything about you
And though I tried to hide
my smile gets wider every day
But now I can't deny
the white of your eyes
They got me feeling the strain
Of how I couldn't speak every time I heard your name
And it was like staring at the sun
Every time I tried
Tried to take you on
I know you think its funny I still find it kind of strange
That you said you'd always felt the same
And the lady gave her heart away
In the hope I'd keep it safe
I didn't know
"I Didn't Know" by Bob Bradley
Draco had to concentrate all through dessert on not making some sexualized comment about the way Hermione licked the chocolate mousse off her spoon and thought he deserved a fucking trophy or something. Every time she brought the silver utensil to her mouth, he could feel his cock twitch eagerly in response. Luckily, his napkin was strategically placed as not to give himself away to the other dining guests in the restaurant. Still, when she finally had made it to the bottom of her crystal bowl and proceeded to dip her finger in to scoop out any remaining bits of chocolate whip, he felt need to comment (if nothing else, to keep his sanity intact.)
"Bit barbaric, don't you think, Hermione?" He gave a chiding smirk and took a sip from his wine (they were both on their third glass).
The witch didn't seem at all inspired by his quip, and, just to spite him, swiped all around the rim of the bowl before bringing her finger up to her lips and sucking on it gingerly. "Mmm..." she groaned, purposefully being loud to embarrass him. "Sorry, but it's so good. I just couldn't help myself."
"I bet you couldn't," he muttered, half-sated from imagining those lovely lips and alluring tongue lapping chocolate syrup off of his cock. His fist tightened around his stemmed glass, and he concentrated on evening his breathing. "So I've been thinking-"
"That's always dangerous."
Getting brave, wasn't she? That was most likely due to the wine, he noted, and thought that he would love to see her fully inebriated sometime. "I've picked from the list these last few times... I believe that it's your turn."
"Oh. So generous." She gave him a wink. Yup, he thought, her disposition was most certainly because of the alcohol.
"Anything you want." He stared, determined, into her eyes.
"Anything?"
"Did I stutter?"
She tapped her finger to her lips, a wicked grin spreading across those lush lips. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, and she nodded once, in confirmation. "Right. Roleplay."
Ooh! Her suggestion turned out better than expected. "Any particular scenario?" he asked without missing a beat.
"If I recall, you gave a suggestion to an escort/client fantasy."
Oh, Merlin's sweet, sweet hat. Draco adjusted his posture in his chair to try to stifle the ever-growing erection rubbing against the zipper of his pants. What had he done to deserve such a wonderfully venturesome woman? He'd wrote that down on a whim! And here she was, suggesting it as if they were debating on what type of tea to brew. He bit down hard on his lower lip. "Yes..." He could feel himself blush violently. "Is that the selection for tonight, then?"
"I want you to agree to it."
"-Absolutely," he said, nearly cutting her off. Why on Earth would he ever turn such a tempting offer down? Hermione pretending to be some insatiable, cock-hungry whore who wanted nothing more than to do whatever Draco Malfoy desired? He'd have to be daft to disagree! What would he have her do first? Strip-tease? Perhaps another photo shoot? He could pretend he had been working such long hours, and...
"Great." She smirked, offering out her wine glass. "A toast then. To the escort."
He smirked back. "To the escort." They clinked their glasses together, finished their wine, and it was only then that Draco noticed she hadn't stopped smirking. In fact, she was practically holding back a fit of giggles as she finished her wine and sat the empty glass atop the table. "What're you giggling about?"
"Just imagining how you're going to react when you figure it out."
"Figure out what?" He blinked once. Then twice. Then... "No."
"Hmm?"
"You meant for... for me to...?" He fumbled over his words in a hurried fashion, his mind working much too fast for his mouth to keep up. "I'm not the bloody prostitute in this situation, Hermione." He kept his voice low and pressed a finger down on the table, business-like to make a point. "That role was meant for you."
"Was it? Because you never specified..."
"I won't do it." He crossed his arms. "That's entirely beneath me."
"Oh, but it's not beneath me?" She raised a cool eyebrow, her tone shifting to cautious irritation. "You said anything I wanted. I want this."
"Why?"
"Because you called my table manners barbaric."
"So you'd go so far as to force me to submit to you like some tawdry piece of man-meat?"
"Yes." She nodded, suppressing a chuckle. "Oh, unless you're not up for it? Ron wasn't much keen to roleplay, either..."
Two things went through Draco Malfoy's mind. One: how dare she compare him to Weasley? And, most certainly number two, which he sneered aloud, "I'm keen. Just not with the roles reversed."
"I see." She dramatically pouted her lower lip and crossed her arms, the alcohol still tickling her brain. "Very well, Draco. I had no idea you and Ron could share so much in common... being so vanilla, and all..."
"Vanilla?" He spat the word back at her venomously, insulted. "I... I am nowhere near vanilla."
"Sure you are. I can practically see the red hair sprouting out of your roots. I knew that blonde must be from a hair dye potion..."
"Fine. Fucking fine." He snapped his fingers for the check. "You want to roleplay? Let's get out of here and fucking roleplay. I'll be the best damn escort..." He dropped his voice as his server arrived with the bill. He hastily pulled out the appropriate amount and handed it without his eyes ever leaving Hermione's. "Shall we?"
Neville's mouth refused to shut, despite his mind's public protests, should he continue to leave it unhinged, a few lacewing flies would undoubtedly buzz right in. He blinked once, twice, three times as he stared at the racy, scantily clad Hermione Granger biting her lower lip seductively back at him. Well, not at him. Never, in a million lifetimes, did he ever imagine he'd find boudoir photography of his fellow Gryffindor herbology-club buddy. Where in the seven hells did Malfoy obtain such intimate pictures?
He looked at the bedsheets in the photograph, down to the bed (where the images lay scattered about), and almost vomited as he came to the startling realization that Malfoy had taken these. Here. In his bedroom. With her on his bed. Despite the horrified feeling of the world spinning upside down and inside out, a thought zoomed across the forefront of his mind for half a moment; these were quite well-done photographs. The lighting... the allure... he shook his head, trying to cast the thought out. But like a demon that sunk its claws into his psyche, the thought stayed, growing stronger by the moment.
Hermione Granger was a beautiful woman. Neville only ever dreamed of seeing her like this, legs splayed and biting her lip in a lustful gaze. But any of the times he'd ever fantasized about her in his teenage years (which, to be honest, was because she was one of the only girls to talk to him for more than half a minute), the fantasy had always been romantic. Candle-lit dinner. Big, fluffy rug that he'd lean her back onto as he kissed her in front of a burning fire. She'd whisper something timidly into his ear, and he'd smile back just as shyly. -This... what she had given to Malfoy... this wasn't like Hermione Granger at all. Not the Hermione he knew, at least. The Slytherin wouldn't have gone so far as to Imperius her, would he? Could he put anything past the obnoxiously well-built potion's professor?
One look at the shy, unassuming witch told him that no; this was very much something that she had agreed to. Willingly.
And that's when it happened. A feeling he wasn't accustomed to since his days as a student at Hogwarts reared its ugly head and laid roost in Neville Longbottom's chest. Jealousy.
Jealousy of Malfoy.
Jealousy that Hermione could be so carefree around a man who cared more about himself than anything else in this world. A man whom Neville had worked with for the last two years and knew to be a conniving, vindictive Professor who demeaned Herbology down to a 'means to an end for Potions, which was quite more important.' Yup. He recalled the day one of his students quoted the git.
Overall, he was simply jealous.
Why would she let herself become objectified this way to someone who had called her 'mudblood' and tormented her for years? What pleasure could come from that? He knew, deep down inside, that just because he didn't share Malfoy's confident nature didn't mean that he couldn't satisfy a woman. Was that the reason why Hermione allowed Malfoy to keep these photos? Because she was, on a primal level, attracted to him? Or was he holding these over her head somehow? Should he tell her about them? And if she already knew Malfoy kept these for himself, would that mean she'd be furious with Neville for spying?
Shite. What should he do?
Absentmindedly, he strummed his fingers along the photo closest to him: one of Hermione bent over on all fours, back arched, legs spread open with just her panties to cover her soaking...
"Highly inappropriate," he scolded himself, closing his eyes, his cheeks darkening with humiliation. He shook his head a few times, prying one eye dangerously open to stare at the image again. He watched the way her breathing hitched, the way her body hummed in arousal. One photograph in particular caught his interest; Hermione, leaned back across the bed, one hand fondling her breast through her sweater while her other hand teased at the hem of her panties. A small blush crawled against her cheeks as she brushed her ankles together, still wearing a bit of that innocence about her that he'd always admired. It was so captivating to imagine her posing this way for him. His ears began to prickle with heat, and a slow burn flowed over his skin. A lump formed in his throat and stayed there. It sickened him to think this was all for the platinum-blonde slag. Sure, Neville was no Fitzwilliam Darcy, but still... he had more heart in his pinky toe than Draco had in his entire body.
Against his trousers, Neville could feel himself becoming aroused as his eyes scanned over each and every photograph.
"No. No, I'm not... I'm not doing this." In a flash, he scooped all of the photos back into the cigar box and shoved it beneath the pillow once more. "I shouldn't have seen those... it was none of my business..." Though he wished that it could have been his business. If Hermione hadn't have turned him down, would he have ever been given a chance to do something like this?
Neville discovered something about himself that evening; he was a bit kinkier than he initially thought.
"So, how does this work?" Draco asked as they both walked along the cobblestone sidewalk, making their way leisurely back to the grounds of Hogwarts. "What are the parameters of this roleplay?"
"Anxious to get started?" Hermione teased, heart skipping a beat. She was ever-so-pleased that he'd agreed to the submissive role of escort, despite his obvious protesting. Well, that's what he got for calling her barbaric, wasn't it? Maybe it would teach him to keep his snarky opinions on her eating habits to himself. After all, she was only eating the whipped dessert that way to be seductive.
"I just want to know my role, is all. Am I the cheeky dominant escort who gets to teach his client all about pain and pleasure?" He stared down at her, hopeful.
"No. Just the typical, run-of-the-mill escort will do. Submissive. Eager to please."
"Bloody Hell." He pinched her arm to spite her and stuck out his tongue. "I'm anything but typical." He all but pouted as the lights of Hogwarts could be seen along the horizon.
"I know you are," she smirked, "But tonight, you're my plaything."
He thought about it a moment, then grinned like the devil. "I rather like the sound of that..."
Neville left Malfoy's door exactly like he had found it; shut, but not completely. Where had he been going in such a hurry as to not close a bloody door? He looked about the hallway, relieved it was nearing ten in the evening, and all students were required to be in their dormitories. Otherwise, this might have made for an awkward misunderstanding.
He made it to the steps leading up to the main hallway and gave a relieved sigh. Soon, he was going to be tucked away in his bedroom, shut out from the rest of the world, where he could finally over think his discovery of Hermione's photographs (and maybe sneak in a quick shower to calm his raging hard-on). He climbed the steps two at a time, and when he was close to the final steps, he heard someone giggling from above.
Someone with a very distinct laugh that he listened to a thousand times.
Someone who hadn't been in her dormitory an hour ago.
Should he approach her? Share with her his discovery? He was just mustering up enough courage to reveal himself when he realized she wasn't alone.
"I had a wonderful time at dinner tonight, Draco," whispered Hermione, stepping up the final step of her long staircase and feeling backward for the door. "I'm so very glad it doesn't have to end." She watched Draco's eyes narrow, sifting through his thoughts as he struggled to play this forced role. The wine still swimming around in her head, Hermione gave an uncharacteristic smirk and brought a hand up to his cheek, attempting to sooth him. "After all…" she played her part well, thinking as he would and rubbing the pad of her thumb over his alluring, pale lips. "You're mine for the night."
Neville Longbottom flushed cherry red. Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. He watched his friend lean in closely and brush her nose against Malfoy's. Instantly, Neville knew he didn't belong here. He wanted nothing more than to scurry away and find his dormitory, where he could bury his face under a pillow and never, ever think of this night again. -Why did it have to be Malfoy? Out of all the rotten gits, why did she have to be out with him? Inviting him in as if he deserved it! Had she forgotten all of the times he had teased her and called her ugly when in fact she was one of the prettiest witches in school?
He turned to leave and find a place to bugger off to, wand gripped tight in his hand, when the demon that toyed with him earlier latched onto his chest and refused to go. Overwhelmed by this sinking in his heart, he turned his eyes back up to the couple, hoping that this was all some elaborate prank and that Hermione would push him off of her at any moment and scream, 'You'll never get in my knickers!'
A bloke could dream, couldn't he?
It was Draco Malfoy's reaction that stopped Neville dead in his tracks from leaving then and there to stew about in his loathing. No, the next words caught him dead by surprise.
"I should say so. You did pay quite a hefty sum to get me here, didn't you?"
Holy Hippogriff! Was... what... who...when... what?
Hermione watched the corners of his lips pull up ever so slightly as Draco gave her a small wink, challenging her to response. He brought her knuckles up to his lips and kissed them seductively.
She had to stifle a set of giggles as she swatted him on the arm. "Good one," she whispered, clearing her throat to say a bit louder, "I'll admit, your price was a bit steep."
"Well, if you want quality, you have to pay the toll, no?" He bit down on his lower lip, snaking his fingers down the sides of her dress to rest his hands along her pelvic bones.
Playing along, Hermione rubbed her hands sensually up Draco's tight chest and nodded slowly. "Practically could have bought a house for your services."
What, now? Neville narrowed his eyes, utterly perplexed. He wasn't hearing... what he thought he was hearing... was he?
"I even had to take out a loan from Harry..."
"Oh, poor Granger." Draco tsked. "I'm sure that had to have been hard..." At the final word, he took the hand that tucked in his and brought it down to the firm erection hidden beneath his dress pants. Hermione's eyes widened at his forwardness, and she rubbed against the thick, lengthy organ, determined to call his bluff. She watched his lips part, and an anxious sigh escaped his throat.
"So you're mine, then?" She asked, emphasizing the implications of their roles. She wanted to make sure he understood; whatever she wanted tonight, he was to give it to her, and she would be the one to command it. The thought both thrilled and frightened her, but she was game, especially when her sexual partner declared only hours ago that this was as real for him as it was for her. "All night? Whatever I want?"
Draco gazed at her through half slits, pink tinting his cheeks. "Mmm... yeah. Whatever you want, Hermione." He caught himself as he slipped from his role, and added quickly, "You paid for the deluxe 'boyfriend' package after all."
She giggled, sliding her hand away from his stiffness to pat his cheek. "Yes. I suppose I did, didn't I?" She reached back, turned the handle, and said, "Won't you come in, then?"
Oh come on, Hermione! Don't tell me you hired Malfoy to be your boy-toy? How long has this been going on? Is that why he had those seductive photos of her?
Neville shook his head over and over again, gripping his wand with a shaking hand. Watching Hermione speak this way to Malfoy only added salt to the proverbial wounds to Neville's psyche. So, she hired Malfoy as a male prostitute, but she couldn't be bothered to date a decent fellow, like himself? Just what on God's green Earth did Draco Malfoy have that Neville didn't? Aside from money... and more traditionally handsome features... and a better wardrobe... and confidence.
And just what in the seven HELLS did Draco Malfoy need any money for? Why would he sell his body? The arrogant twat probably got off on treating women as a number instead of having to attend to their emotional needs. The sod.
Neville glared up at the pair as he watched Malfoy dip his head in for a long, sensual kiss that made Hermione mewl under his touch.
He didn't deserve to be touching her that way. He didn't deserve her in any way. Why couldn't Hermione see that?
Inside his mind, feeling much to voyeur and not enough like his usual self, he watched the couple snog against the frame of the door and debated if he should tell Ron about any of this. No. Even he knew it was a bad idea letting Ron know. He'd just reprimand Hermione without being understanding. Neville knew she had been lonely for such a long time, but he had no idea just how lonely she was to stoop so low as to invite Malfoy into her bed, in exchange for money. Maybe, he thought, if he could find a chance to talk this over with her and let her know she didn't need to hire intimacy to be happy, he could put an end to this whole thing.
He nodded, his decision firmly set. He'd just need to muster a bit of courage, is all. And then he could rescue Hermione from herself and the slithery clutches of the man-whore.
Alright, now. Everyone settle down. I can already hear the reviews: NO NEVILLE WHAT NO HE IS INNOCENT WHAT HAVE YOU DONE OMGDSFDSFOSF!
My reaction: Simmer. He's a grown man. He's not that little boy we all adored in Hogwarts. He's the grown man we adore now. And a man who has needs. And desires. And he can't be -perfect- all the time. I've attempted my best at showing a grown up, tempted side of Neville that, I hope, will transcend well with this audience. Please remember: there is a plot to this. Let it run its course, please! I'm so excited to let the humor build! I promise, it will all be alright. WayMay and I have got you, should you need a raft to float on!
Love,
~A.
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