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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
- 18
- 19
- 20
So Cursed Child came out! Woot! Half-way done already -when I'm done, I'll let everyone know, and we can PM about the thoughts.
~A.
He must be up to something
What are the chances? Sure it's more than likely
I've got a feeling in my stomach
I start to wonder what his story might be
What his story might be, yeah
"When The Sun Goes Down" by Arctic Monkeys
"Good morning, Hermione…"
Hermione walked along the small path on her way to Potions; her book bag slung over her shoulder as her seventeen-year-old-self whistled a little tune. The halls were oddly silent for the time of day, and she wondered where Harry and Ron had run off to…
"Hey, wake up."
She stepped through the threshold of the doorway, glancing about at the different workbenches. Funny… no one had made it to class yet. Wasn't that odd? As she made her way to her seat, another set of footsteps followed her. When she turned her head, she saw it was Professor Malfoy, his icy gray eyes glistening playfully at her arrival. 'Morning Professor!'
"Hermione, I have rounds to do. Wake up."
'Goodmorning, Miss Granger.' The older professor smiled down at her, reaching a hand to the bottom of her skirt. Why was she wearing such a short skirt? And come to think of it, where were her robes? Was it rather hot in here? 'Are you ready for our private lesson?'

"Oh, for Merlin's... Hermione, you've failed your N.E.W.T.S., and you'll have to do your seventh year over again."
Hermione's eyes shot open and met the confident, charismatic smirk of Draco Malfoy as he hovered above her, propped up on his elbow. His hair was disheveled, and he had several bite marks along his collarbone from the night before, but he was there. Real. In her bed, still here in the morning. His smirk softened to a smile, and he stroked a bit of hair out of her eyes.
"Sorry," she managed to say, still in shock that he had truly kept his word and stayed the entire night. "I… guess I was dreaming."
"Must have been a good dream," he mused, giving her a wink. "Look, I've got morning patrol, but I didn't want to just up and run out on you."
"Oh." She nodded. "Right. That's… thoughtful."
He rolled over onto his back and gave a cat-like stretch. "Yeah, I'm as thoughtful as they come."
She didn't miss his double meaning. "And conceited."
Hermione watched him glance playfully over at her. "I didn't hear you complaining last night."
"Should I have?"
"No." He rolled back over and wrapped a firm arm around her waist. "You most certainly shouldn't." Soft lips pressed down on hers, and the material of her comforter pulled down, exposing her breasts. Draco grazed his eyes over her chest, nodded in approval, and earned a smack to the arm. "What?"
"You have rounds, remember?"
"Right," he said as if he'd forgotten. "I… I enjoyed last night."
"I did as well."
She saw the flush of his cheeks as he sat upright, giving another lengthy stretch. If Draco was at all shy about the fact that he had been the sub in their games yesterday evening, he hid it very well as he pulled himself out of bed and began to dress. Hermione noted it was still very dark outside, and checked the clock on the wall.
"It's five in the morning."
"Oh, good. You can tell time." He smirked as he slipped into his trousers.
"Why are you leaving so early? Morning rounds don't begin until six."
"If you haven't noticed, I didn't exactly come prepared with my work robes."
"Oh. Right," she said timidly, following his hands as they buttoned up his white shirt. When he finished, he scooped up his socks and took a seat at the edge of the bed. Bravely, Hermione sat up and scooted over behind him draping her arms around his torso. "Can't you stay a bit longer?"
She felt his warm, lengthy fingers lace between hers, and he tugged her closer so that her head rested in the crook of his neck. "Anxious to get me back in your bed, Hermione?"
The question made her heart flutter. There was something so thrilling about having woken up to the sound of his voice and the sight of his steely eyes. Last night had been an adventure for both of them, and she had half-expected him to change his mind and walk out on her before she woke. Inhaling the scent of his skin, Hermione kissed along the curve of his neck and smiled. "Don't pretend that you wouldn't enjoy it."
"I wouldn't dare tell such a lie," he chuckled, bringing one of her hands up to kiss along her knuckles. "It's odd…"
"What is?"
"I know I need to go, but finding the will to is something else entirely."
"Is that odd?"
"For me, it is."
She leaned up just a bit further to kiss his cheek. "Well, then. That's something, isn't it?"
"Indeed," he mused, turning his head to give her a slow, sensual kiss. Hermione pulled away first, untwining her arms so that he could make to stand. Draco did, reluctantly, and bent over to retrieve the last bit of his wardrobe- the pair of diamond cufflinks he had discarded during his disrobing. He waved them in front of her. Hermione raised an eyebrow, offering her hand out, and watched as he dropped them into her palm. "Remember what I told Liam? About showing off a woman like a pair of these?" He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Hold on to those for me. Gives me an excuse to come back." With a strut in his step and his head held high, Draco gave her one last playful look before he exited out her door to change and make his rounds. Hermione stared down at the oval pair of jewelry in amazement. One of these diamonds alone could probably feed a family of four for a month. To leave something so expensive behind meant that Draco either cared very little if he lost them, or, more likely, he trusted Hermione a great deal.
She squeezed the cufflinks in her hands and laid back down on her pillow. Somewhere, in the thick of things, she had developed quite a stir of feelings for him, and she was sure she never wanted to go back to the way things were before.
Neville tried, over the course of the next day, his best attempts in approaching Hermione, but failed miserably every time. Sunday at breakfast, he'd choked on his porridge while trying to get out a 'Hello', too embarrassed by his memories of the pictures from Malfoy's cigar box to say much of anything else. At lunch, Malfoy had joined them, so that had put a damper on telling Hermione her days with a man-toy were beneath her. It was even worse when he soon realized that she and Malfoy meant to play it cool, hardly looking at each other, but when opportunity arose, they'd blush profusely.
Dinner wasn't much better when Hermione had asked Malfoy to pass the mashed potatoes.
"Yes, Mistre- Miss Granger."
Neville could only speculate as to that one. He pushed it aside -he didn't want to come to the conclusion.
That night, he went to bed feeling less like a bold Gryffindor and more like a timid kneazle. Maybe, he thought as he paced his bedroom, he should try approaching Malfoy first.
And that's exactly what he did. He found the Professor tucked away in his hobbit hole of the dungeons, stewing over ungraded Potion's essays at nearly ten at night. Neville knocked politely on the edge of the open door, and silver eyes flickered up to him irritably.
"What do you want, Longbottom?" Malfoy kept his usual sneer lodged upon his face as he slammed down a particularly lengthy parchment.
"Having a rough go of it?" asked Neville, nudging to the essay.
Malfoy raised a suspicious eyebrow but gave up trying to figure out whatever the Herbology professor was up to and sighed, loosening his tie around his neck. "This student wouldn't know the difference between wormwood and barked wood if it came up and smacked him in the face. -If you've come to ask me for something, I haven't the time. So why don't you just turn around out that door and leave me be? Hmm?"
"We both know I can't do that." Neville checked behind him to assure they wouldn't be overheard, and strolled up to one of the vacant seats on the front work bench, directly in front of Malfoy's desk.
"Oh sure," Malfoy mumbled, "Go ahead and take a seat anywhere. Uninvited. Really. It's fine." His voice seethed with sarcasm.
"I want to talk to you about Hermione."
There was a change in Malfoy, though to someone who didn't know any better, they might not be able to spot it; his posture straightened, and his eyebrows drew together. He still kept that calm demeanor, but Neville noticed that Malfoy's hand began to shake. "Yeah? What'd the perfectionist do now? Show you up in your class?"
"Hermione wouldn't…" Neville began but faltered at the realization. "Alright, maybe she would." He saw the corners of Malfoy's mouth tug upwards in amusement, though he kept his eyes trained on his graded paperwork. "What I mean to say is, I know that there's something going on between the two of you." He was aware that coming directly outright might land him a pop in the nose, so a softer approach would be best.
Malfoy's hand twitched and scraped a red line across the page. "I assure you, Longbottom, whatever you think is going on is off by at least one hundred and eighty degrees."
"So I didn't see you sneaking off into her room last night?"
So much for subtly. The Potions professor's eyes flickered up away from the essay and, if looks could kill, Neville would be a shriveled bug on the sidewalk after being smashed a thousand time by Malfoy's foot. "Never took you much for a voyeur, Longbottom," he said dryly, "But I assure you, you're not the first I've found that roams these halls."
Yeah, I bet you've had plenty of clients who enjoy a good peep show, Neville growled inwardly. "I want you to stop what you're doing with Hermione." Malfoy snorted a laugh, and Neville almost lost his nerve. "I mean it."
He watched as Malfoy grabbed up a spare bit of parchment, dipped his quill in some ink, and scribbled something down. Then he thrust it out and handed it to Neville. He snatched it up and read the words.
'Bugger off.' It was written in plumed, meticulous script.
Neville crumpled up the parchment and tossed it behind him. "No," he said simply.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. No. I won't 'bugger off.' I wouldn't care if you were doing this with anyone else -but this is Hermione we're talking about. You know this isn't like her. I don't know why you're taking advantage of her in her delicate state, but it needs to come to a head and end."
To Neville's horror, Malfoy scooted his chair back and stood with an air that would have made Professor Snape proud. Eyes like daggers, he walked slowly around his desk, crossed his arms, and stood directly in front of Neville. "Let me spell this out for you in words you simpletons understand: if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone, I'll knock your head off of your shoulders so fast, Nearly Headless Nick will be envious of you for your admission into the Headless Hunt."
His heart sped up. "Was that a threat?"
"Consider it a warning. Leave business that isn't yours alone."
"Yeah, well this 'business' of yours is bloody disgusting."
Malfoy lost his cool in a second, slamming his hands down onto the table. "How dare you?"
Oh, did that push his buttons? Excellent, Neville thought. "Don't tell me you think you're doing her any favors?"
"Get out of my classroom."
"And if I don't? -I'm not going anywhere until I get your word that you're going to end this with Hermione. Today."
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "You think you can just come here and tell us how to live our lives? Where do you get off?"
"Where do you!?" Neville pushed out of his chair and squared him up. "Oh. Wait. I'm pretty sure I know. Probably between the legs of any beautiful woman who offers herself to you, hmm?"

Malfoy trained his wand on him in a flash, fire flaring in his eyes. "Take that back."
"Go on! Try to deny it!"
"I don't have to deny anything, nor do I need to prove myself to the likes of you. But let me make one thing clear -if you so much as insinuate that I'm seeing other women behind Hermione's back, I'll shove my wand so far up your arse you'll be throwing curses every time you open your mouth."
Neville narrowed his eyes. "Oh please. You don't scare me. Once you slice the head off a twenty-foot snake, you tend to take the rest of life's threats with a grain of salt. -Besides, we both know you're all talk."
"Am I?" Malfoy quirked up both of his eyebrows. "You sure you want to take the chance on it?"
The men glared each other down for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes. Finally, Neville broke the silence (and the stare-off.) "Why are you playing it like you care about her?"
"Because, Longbottom, I do."
Malfoy was so convincing that Neville almost believed him for a moment -until he remembered the fact that Hermione had paid for the 'boyfriend' package. That had to be why Malfoy was acting so protective. Because, as of this moment, maybe Hermione was his only source of income? He wasn't sure, but that would be the only logical explanation. There was no way that Malfoy actually cared. "Drop the act."
"Act?"
"Look, I'm sure around Hermione, she might find this endearing. But for me, it's just disgusting. Quit pretending you care about her and let's get down to semantics. How much would it cost to keep you away from her?"
"I'm insulted you'd think for even a moment that there could be a price on our relationship."
It was Neville's turn to laugh. "That's rich, coming from someone like you. What do you think McGonagall would say if she knew about the two of you?"
"I don't think she'd bloody well care! And neither should you. What Hermione and I do behind closed doors is none of anyone's business."
Oh, wow! The nerve of this man. "You're deranged- you know that?"
"Get. Out."
"Fine. I'm going." Neville threw his hands up. "But I'm going to put an end to this, one way or another." He stormed to the door, ready to slam it on the way out, when Malfoy said in a softer, less threatening voice, "If you care about Hermione, you'll stay out of this."
Neville turned to him. "I'm doing this because I care about her. And if you have any shred of dignity, you wouldn't put her reputation on the line like this. If anyone knew about the two of you, what do you think they'd say?"
Draco was fuming. He could feel his magic prickle the back of his neck. How dare Neville Longbottom say that Draco was beneath Hermione! Well, he had to admit, he'd been beneath her last night -but for an entirely separate reason! That insolent little cur thought he could judge him just because of his Death Eater past? He had to think of a way to come out on top of this situation, and quickly.
"Let me guess. You plan on talking this over with Hermione next since you were unable to sway me?"
"That's exactly right."
"I see." He nodded his head, walking up and down the length of his classroom, hands behind his back, eyebrows knitted together in frustration.
"Just out of curiosity, who approached who?"
"What?"
"Did you just offer yourself out like some cheap dime-store whore, or what?"
"Dime-store…?" Draco could literally hear the 'click' inside his mind as he put the pieces together. Longbottom's voyeurism -he'd interrupted that small episode in front of Hermione's door last night? Oh. This was rich. This was sweeter than a sugar quill. Longbottom didn't dislike him because of his Death Eater status -he legitimately thought that Hermione's roleplay suggestion was the real deal. It took everything in him not to burst into uncontrollable laughter. No, stifle it, Draco. How can you use this to your advantage? "She approached me, actually." He fought back the urge to grin, instead casting up one of his smirks. "Practically begged me for it. Is that what you want to hear, Longbottom?"
The look he procured from Neville was priceless; his face reddened, his eyes went wide, and he saw his hand twitch for his wand. "You lie."
"Maybe I do, maybe I don't." Draco shrugged. "Either way, you know it's not polite to skulk in dark corners, Longbottom."
"I… I wasn't…! I didn't…!"
"Didn't you?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "I see why you're so up in arms. I didn't offer my services to you, did I?" He grinned maniacally. "It's four thousand galleons for an evening out, ten thousand if you want to hold hands. I don't think you could afford much else, taking into account your appearance."
"I- I don't want to hire you!"
"So you do think I'm for hire." Draco couldn't hold it back any longer -he sniggered into the back of his hand, shook his head, and shoved Neville out the door, turning to go back to his paperwork.
"What's that mean!?" He heard the other man shout, confusion in his voice. "Oi! Malfoy! What the Hell does that mean!?"
He turned his head back, still laughing. "It means, Longbottom, that you're just about as bright as a black crayon, and I assume that you ate lead paint as a child. Stay out of our business, will you? Or I'm sure Hermione would love to hear that you rubbed one off while watching us fool around."
"I never did that!"
"Shame… it'd be your word against mine. Who do you think she'd believe? You've already admitted to watching us. -Don't worry, Professor L. As Granger says in her classroom, it's perfectly normal for erections to occur when looking at something stimulating."
"You're a tosser."
"And you put the ass in assuming. We're even. Tell anyone else about this, and I'll be sure to drop a word to the Headmistress who really put that stink bomb in my room. That's for admitting to that." With a nudge of his fingers, he spelled the door shut on Neville Longbottom's nose, chuckling all the while. As he took his seat once more, he tapped his fingers on the desk and grinned. He supposed he'd have to tell Hermione about this eventually to clear it all up- but for now, he rather enjoyed letting Longbottom stew in his muck of assumptions until morning's light.
- 18
- 19
- 20
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