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A Summer Holiday	By : TwistOfLime Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 12021 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Two: A Surprise Visitor

Draco shuddered, trying to push those thoughts and the dream from his mind as he swung his legs over the edge of his four-poster.

Rising from the bed and making his way across the darkened room, Draco parted one of the heavy velvet curtains, squinting in the early morning light. Outside he saw a car parked in the front of the house. Curious, who would his mother be having to breakfast that wouldn’t have used the floo network to arrive? Guests couldn’t apperate to the Malfoy Manor due to security wards in place, but most guests arrived by using the floo network or by flying in on broomstick. In fact, other than for dinner parties, Draco couldn’t recall anytime a guest had driven to the Malfoy Manor.

Perplexed, he left the window and started towards the bathroom to get ready for breakfast but was interrupted along the way by a small pop that preceded the appearance of Draco’s personal house elf, Maxwell.

“Good morning Sir,” Maxwell said, bowing so low the tip of his pointed nose touched the ground.

“Morning Maxwell,” Draco replied groggily, rolling his eyes. He had always disliked formality, but it pleased Maxwell so he put up with it.

“Sir, your mother requests your presence at breakfast this morning. She wishes to introduce you to her guest.”

“All right, tell her I’ll be down in half an hour. Who is her guest?” Draco asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Ah, Sir, introducing her is your mothers’ privilege. I’ll leave you to get ready,” Maxwell replied, and with another small pop he was gone.

Sighing, Draco made his way into the bathroom.

Draco turned on the shower and brushed his teeth at the sink, as steam began to fill the room. He removed his deep red, silk shorts and stepped into the shower letting the warm water wash over his body.

At eighteen, Draco had long since outgrown his young, awkward body. After several years on the house Quidditch team, working through grueling training sessions, he had developed quite a bit, with broad muscular shoulders, a lean, finely toned upper body, and legs strong from trying to stay on a broom in strong wind. His face had filled out, although he still had the sharp features characteristic of the Malfoy family. Even his hair had changed, it was still the bright platinum blond that set Draco apart in any crowd, but he had let it grow a little, so that it stopped just at the base of his neck and he had stopped slicking it back. The hair that lightly dusted his upper chest was a shade darker than that on his head, as was the trail of hair that led down his belly and spread out around his manhood, which at this moment Draco was just starting to wake up.

Slowly his lean fingers trailed down his chest to firmly grip his shaft. He rubbed his thumb gently on the tip to spread the arousal already leaking from the head, while his left hand skillfully massaged at the base. He leaned against the shower, stroking as his fantasy took place.

It was the same girl every time he did this. She was beautiful; with long chestnut hair riddled with golden highlights that fell in curls down her back. Her skin was creamy and tight over her curves. Her breasts were just the right size in Draco’s mind, not too big but not to small either, with nipples that were like peaks surrounded by a perfect, pink areola. But he never saw her face; he couldn’t bring himself to give her one. Her body was too perfect; he couldn’t invent a face to match. Now, she was sitting on the edge of a table, her legs spread wide to give Draco a view of her cinnamon curls and perfect pink folds. He walked over to her and she sat up wrapping her arms around his neck and playing with a small curl that formed there.

“Good morning,” she said huskily, in a voice that was familiar to Draco, though he couldn’t quite place.

Draco was not one to delay and without a word he slipped easily inside her warmth. She moaned, throwing her head back to give Draco easy access to her neck, which he kissed and nipped at gently. She wrapped her legs around him as he began to thrust harder and deeper. In the shower, Draco’s hands matched each pumping thrust and he felt himself begin to tighten. He wouldn’t drag it out this morning, not when his mother and her guest were waiting for him downstairs. He braced himself as his morning release sprayed out onto the walls of the shower.

A satisfied Draco rinsed the remaining soap from his body and finished his shower with a rinse of cold water. He always finished his shower in this way, it served dual purposes in Draco’s mind; one, it helped curb any further urges he may experience and two, it left his skin feeling clear and clean. Draco dressed quickly and went downstairs to breakfast.

At the base of the front stairs Draco stopped short, startled by the sound of laughter. Laughter? Since when did his mother laugh? Draco couldn’t remember a time when the sound of laughter echoed through Malfoy Manor.

The sound led Draco into the smaller dinning room, off to the left of the kitchens. He stopped outside the door, listening to his mother and her guest, trying to figure out who it was but the heavy wooden door muffled any sound trying to pass through it. Draco could hear that it was a woman, but the conversation was unintelligible. Giving up, he opened the door and walked into the room.

Sitting at the table next to his mother was a woman around his mother’s age, and just as beautiful. She had straight, golden brown hair that fell to her shoulders, which complimented the golden brown in her eyes. She had beautiful eyes, which seemed to smile just as much as she did. However, their familiarity was making Draco uncomfortable. He felt as though he knew this woman from somewhere.

“Good morning Draco,” his mother said with unusual cheerfulness. “I’d like to introduce you to an old friend of mine from grade school. This is Emma Granger.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Draco replied after a slight pause he hoped had gone unnoticed. The last name had startled him a bit, but it had to be a coincidence. The Mrs. Granger he was thinking of was a muggle and couldn’t have possibly gone to school with his mother.

“Nice meeting you too,” Emma Granger said with a smile.

“I believe you know Emma’s daughter, Hermione Granger. She’s in her last year at Hogwarts with you, in Gryffindor. She’s a brilliant little witch, top of the class. Do you know her?”

“Yes, I know her. She is quite the student, and prefect too I believe. You must be proud,” Draco responded, with a nod of acknowledgement. Though his tone was polite and his face a calm mask, inside Draco felt like screaming. His mother’s words seemed to burn him, as if she was intentionally taunting him. Of course he knew Hermione Granger, a fact his mother was well aware of.

“Thank you. We are quite proud,” Mrs. Granger replied, beaming.

“Well, good. Come sit and have some breakfast I have something to tell you.”

Draco took his seat to the left of his mother and opposite Mrs. Granger. He picked at the food in his plate, but didn’t really eat anything. He had a strong feeling that whatever news his mother was going to share was not going to be good.

“As I said, Emma and I know each other from grade school. However until recently… circumstances for our friendship were not favorable. Several weeks ago, while I was shopping in Diagon Alley, I ran into Emma and her daughter in Flourish and Blotts. We’ve been catching up through owl post all summer now.

“Next week, Mr. Granger will be away at a… What is it called again?” Narcissa asked, turning to face Mrs. Granger.

“A dental conference,” she replied.

“Right, a dental conference. Anyway, we thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to catch up with one another. The four of us will be spending the next three weeks before school starts at the Granger’s beach house in Embleton,” Narcissa told Draco, a smile firmly rooted to her face.

“That sounds lovely,” Draco said through clenched teeth. “It was nice meeting you Mrs. Granger, but if you’ll excuse me I’m meeting Blaise in Diagon Alley in half an hour.”

“Of course dear. Don’t be home too late,” Narcissa said waving her son away and turning back to Mrs. Granger.

Draco left the dinning room and slumped against the wall at the base of the stairs. How could this happen? He couldn’t understand how this was possible, his mother was a pureblood and Granger’s was a muggle. How could they have gone to the same grade school? What was grade school?

One thing was for sure; Draco would not be going on their little seaside adventure. He may have changed opinions about muggles and muggle-borns since his father’s incarceration in Azkaban, but he still hated Miss ‘Know-It-All’ Granger. He would not be spending the last three weeks of his summer holiday wasting away in a shack on a beach somewhere.

Draco walked upstairs to his bedroom and reached into a small golden pot hanging off the side of his fireplace. He threw the contents into the flames, which burst up and turned green. Stepping inside, he made a mental note to pick up more floo powder while out today and yelled Diagon Alley before disappearing.
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A Summer Holiday