Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Favour Me With Silence	By : MadeasRage Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 12371 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any recognisible characters. I do not make money from this story.

Chapter List
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The quote Draco attributes to 'The Littlest Hippogriff' is in fact from ‘The Little Prince’ by Antoine de St. Exupery. I do not own anything associated with St. Exupery, or any of his works.

    Reviews are always welcome.

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   The next morning, after a miserable few hours of sleep, Hermione woke late, missed breakfast and had to run to her first class. She felt wrapped in cotton wool, everything slow and heavy and vague. The teachers noticed and worried aloud; she assured them it was simply a sleepless night which, really, was not a lie. McGonagall gave her a piercing look and said nothing more, while Sinistra, Slytherin to thecore, marked this for future reference. She wouldn't have her star pupil fading due to simple lack of sleep.

     Of course she had Potions and of course she arrived late and couldn't perform a discreet cushioning charm and of course Snape make a snide remark about whether she intended to sit down, unless she had a more pressing engagement? She was obliged to sit down normally, rather than lowering herself slowly to make it more bearable. Immediately a burning tingle spread everywhere she was touching that damnably hard seat. Awful!

   Malfoy spent a very enjoyable Potions period watching the mudblood squirm. She looked wonderfully distressed and unhappy, even biting her lip and wiggling a bit when she thought no one would see. Tuesday seemed a million tedious hours away, until he could make her react just as he wanted her to. He was filled with pleasurable indecision… so many choices, so little time.

The weekend could never be long enough. She gnawed her cuticles until they bled, startled easily, got teary for no reason. Ron and Harry, concerned, tried to ask her about it Monday night.

" I'm fine." She was trying to work out an especially hard Arithmancy problem as she spoke.

" You're not fine, Hermione. What's really bothering you?"

She turned and gave them both a long, hard look. Harry glared right back.

"I'm having …pains."

Harry flushed. Ron, as always slightly behind the curve, asked innocently "Pains?"

" You know…girl pains."

Ron joined Harry in looking uncomfortable. "Oh. Well, I uh, hope you feel better." They decided a game of Exploding Snap was a good idea and quickly made an exit, not looking at anyone.

Tuesday night. She took her rucksack, gave her friends the usual excuse and departed, keeping careful watch to make sure Parkinson or Goyle weren't creeping up behind her. She made it to the humpbackedwitch with and two minutes to spare.

" Actually managed to follow instructions, Granger?" He rounded the corner and gave her a distinctly nasty grin. She said nothing. He drew closer, still smiling, and breathed almost in her ear. " I believe I asked you a question. I said, you actually managed to follow instructions, didn't you?"

She set her jaw and took a deep, slow breath. "Yes, Malfoy, I did."

There was a noise behind them. They leapt apart, wands drawn, as Snape marched into view. "Mr. Malfoy…Miss Granger. Why am I not surprised to find you wandering the halls at this hour of the night?"

" She's with me, professor. I had to ask her something."

Snape eyed his godson askance. Draco was up to something, he'd be bound. The boy was serene, confident, eyeing him back. He wondered if Granger had turned spy, or Draco had. Or was this blackmail? Something more? He noticed the Granger girl's flushed cheeks and bright eyes, the slightly keyed up manner they both displayed. Snape suppressed a grin; they veritably stank of fornication, foreplay interrupted.

   "All right then, Malfoy. I trust you will…take every precaution."

He turned and swept away in a cloud of inky wool, musing to himself about what Lucius would do if he discovered that his beloved child and sole heir was fucking the most irritating and brilliant muggle born witch in a generation.

     They made their way to the Room of Requirement. "Give me your wand and rucksack." He took her things to the table and began to dig through, carefully setting aside her books and parchments. He set itdown and frowned at her. "No brush, mudblood?"

" I must have forgotten."

"I'm sure. Robes." He smirked.

    She shucked her robes, folding them carefully and putting them beside her other things, wondering if she'd made an error in not bringing the brush. Better the demon you know…

Draco pushed away from the table and brought his chair to the middle of the room. "Come here, mudblood."

"No."

One fair eyebrow shot up. "I'm sorry ?"

"You've had your fun, all right? I'm sorry I was out after curfew, you

got to humiliate me totally and I won't do it again. We're even."

He laughed hard, shoulders shaking. "I think not. This is such a good diversion, you see, that I'm not inclined to give it up. Tell me Granger, have you ever read a book called 'The littlest Hippogriff'?"

Thrown for a loop by this weird conversational turn, she could only shake her head. "One of my favorites as a child. At the end, one of the characters turns to another and says 'You are forever responsiblefor what you tame.'"

"That's all well and good, but what-"

"It means, Granger, that having introduced me to such a unique pleasure, it is your purview to see that it is kept under control."

Outrage surged through her. " How dare you force me to participate in this, this perversion and then blame me for it!"

He shrugged. "I never forced you, Granger. I gave you a choice and now you have to follow through. Not to mention, you are hardly the only girl at this school. If you were thrown out, I'd have to find a new playmate, wouldn't I? Not a Slytherin, Merlin, no, not someone I socialize with. Someone I can manipulate and control easily. Someone vulnerable. Someone younger, perhaps."

Her stomach roiled. "You sick bast-"

   He raised a hand. "Now you see my dilemma. I have needs and you are a way for me to vent them with a minimum of harm. You can take it, Granger, but those other girls…what do you think it would do to them?'

He patted his lap and watched coldly as she rose and came to him, blinking tears of rage and frustration.

"I'll smack you good and hard for this, of course. I would have anyway, but I think I'll give you something special to emphasis the point. For right now, though' he paused for dramatic effect, relishing the way she glared fruitlessly at him ' you may ask me to punish you."

"You want me ask for it?"

"That's what I said. Of course, you could choose to defy me and I could do something even worse. Your choice, mudblood."

She inhaled, pictured him being torn apart by rabid selkies and then said in a monotone "Please punish me, Malfoy."

"That will never do. Details, Granger, details. I'll overlook your usage of my name this time, but for every other time it's twelve with the brush."

"You actually want me to call you sir?"

He smirked. "Master is also acceptable. You may begin, mudblood."

"Please, sir, will you give—will you give me—will you smack me?"

" Details, I said ! We'll do it until you get this right."

She bit her tongue to keep from cursing him and made herself think of it as an Arithmancy problem. If she combined X flattery with Y personal abasement and followed the path of Malfoy's a right sadistic git, what would be the outcome? Her eventual release from this little Hell, that's what.

"Please, sir, take me over your knee and smack me until I cry. I know I deserve it for not showing you the respect you’re entitled to and using your name."

He savored hearing his rival say that. Granger, at his mercy, obeying, humiliating herself at his behest. Oh, this was so, so good. He smiled lazily, the smile of a cat toying with a dying mouse. "Good girl. Pull

your skirt up and your knickers down and lie over my lap." She went rigid. He would see her half naked. She literally couldn't make her hands move. He saw she was struggling and said clearly "Unless you'd rather I simply diffindo them off of you?"

She reached down and pulled her skirt up, holding it under her elbows, tugged down her knickers and nearly threw herself over his lap, desperate to spare her modesty. He gave an irritated snort. " When Itold you to pull them down, I meant properly. To your knees next time, understand?" He punctuated it with a sharp swat and she gasped.

"Pardon?" He swatted again.

"Yes, sir!" He locked an arm about her waist and pulled them down to her ankles and then, to her shock, worked them over her sensible oxfords and put them beside her robes. "See what you get when you don't obey me?"

He angled her just so and then let her lie there. She shivered, feeling the cool air on her backside. She hated this awful, humiliating position. It was like her bum was the most conspicuous thing in the room, all she could concentrate on as she hung over Malfoy's knee, ready for a smacking. The sheer awfulness of the situation might have been funny if it weren't so horrible.

" I'm going to enjoy making you howl, mudblood. And who knows? Perhaps your tears and pleas will move me." He chuckled softly and lifted his hand.

She held still as long as she could, bit her tongue until it bled and Draco stopped and sat still to be sure he had her attention.

" If I didn't know any better, Granger, I'd swear I told you I wanted to hear you howling. Seems like you're defying me, doesn't it?"

She took a deep breath. "No sir, I just-"

He cracked a hand down harder than usual. "Perhaps I'm not giving you sufficient inducement."

He pinned her tighter and began to slap her vulnerable under curve, pleased by her breathy little sobs and kicking. He brought his hand back even farther and started to spank the place where her thighs connected to her bottom. She bucked, trying desperately to move her backside out of range.

"OWWW!"

"I like how pain sounds on you." Draco used a slightly louder voice than usual, thrilled by her reaction to the agony he was dealing. Her legs were scissoring wildly, her dully red arse bouncing and moving under his hand. He could feel the dreadful heat rising from her flesh, the tremor that went through her each time his hand connected and increased the blaze in her backside.

"Beg, Granger. Promise me you'll never do it again." His breath was coming in ragged pants, his hands stiff and burning. He hugged her tightly against his torso, smacking her thighs until she yowled.

"P-PLEASEI PROMISENEVERAGAINPLEASE!" Hermione tried not to scream it, at least. She could save that for herself. Inside her, disgust warred with a strange relief. Here, at least, she didn't have to be the sel fcontrolled voice of reason. Malfoy was hurting her, killing her, but she could cry and wail and not care what it looked like or whether her professors liked it.

   And at some deeper level, as much as she hated this horrific self abasement, she felt almost righteous; by submitting to Malfoy, she spared some poor younger student this shame and agony.

"Tell me you'll be a good little girl." This was well and truly ecstasy. Draco wondered if one's heart could explode from a surfeit of bliss. She was near breaking point and he knew it, pushed her that extra tiny bit.

"Illbegood!"

Hermione went limp, crying too hard to form words. She let her head hang level with her feet and bawled, embarrassed and appalled and relieved and virtuous and disgusted all at once.

For his own part, Malfoy had a sudden problem. He couldn't dump her off his lap; neither could he let her lie there and notice his…situation. He put his hands under he arms and tried to goad her into standing. "Up you get, Granger, we're hardly done."

She tried to stand, almost fell. He caught her, and held her up a moment. She pulled away, not wanting him to touch her. Her pulled his chair back into place and quickly donned his robes.

"Corner, Granger. Go on, before I change my mind." She quickly made her way to the corner and he followed, tucked her skirt up just like before. For good measure he stuck her hands to her head and then

willed something as hard as he could.

   A little cubicle appeared in the corner nearest to Draco that wasn't currently full of mudblood. He raced inside, filled with hate and lust and confusion. He never intended to take it this far—he just wanted to try it, just the once. He had expected to like it but not to feel this—this- the mudblood, the fucking filthy mudblood, the whoring mudblod-he couldn't shut out the feeling of her body grinding intohis, the warm damp feel of her skin under his palm, the way her legs felt drumming his thigh, the high gasping pants—he groaned once, loudly, and then it was done, an instant of sweet and amoral release.

He vanished the mess, washed his hands and face and then reemerged, determined to punish Granger for making him—for doing that to him.

She was still crying. Hard. At same level Draco knew he should feel—something, but all he felt was glad. Stupid Granger. He wished it were anyone but she, anyone. Parkinson, for instance, or Reynolds or Mathews or—any girl but the mudblood. Because then it wouldn't be so bad, would be normal, almost.

   She was tempting him. She knew what it did to him and was tormenting him. The thought of using her body filled him with revulsion and shame and horror, but he couldn't shake that hot, damp skin beneath his hand, her noises and squirming. She was wearing some kind of body lotion; he could smell it when she sweated, soapy and sweet.

He unstuck her and called her to the table. "Bend over."

He studied the damage. Bright, hot red. Glowing, almost pretty. He knew if he cupped it her flesh would feel like sunburn and she'd give a soft little moan, a gasp, and dance on her toes, wanting so much torub her burning skin but knowing it would get her into worse trouble if she did. It would feel slightly rough under his hands, but still smooth and soft…

No. No. He rummaged for her knapsack and pulled out a quill, transfigured it. Moving softly, he stood at her side. "Count them."

Hermione tensed. She felt him pull his arm back and then 'THWAP!'

"OWWW!" She straightened, half spun. He was holding a heavy wooden

ruler and smirking at her.

"Oh dear, mudblood. You didn't count or stay in position. That's extra, you know. I think on the thighs, so you can feel them when you sit down. Now bend over and we'll start again."

THWAP! "OWWWWWWWWWWONE!"

"One what? Last one doesn't count, now start again."

THWAP!"OWWW!ONESIR!"

THWAP! "OWWWWTWOSIR!"

THWAP! "THREESIRPPLEASEE!"

THWAP! "FOURRROWWSIRRPLEASEE!"

THWAP! "FIIIIIIIIVVVESIIIRRROWWWWW!"

THWAP!"SIIIIIIIIIIIIIXXXXAIEOOOWW!SIRRR!"

THWAP! "SEEEEVVVNNN!AAAAIIIIIIIEEEESIRRR!"

THWAP! "ATTEE!OWWWWWWWWAAAHHSIRROWW!"

THWAP! "NIIIIIINNNEEE! PLEEEEEEEEASESIRRRRROWWW!

THWAP! "TENSIROOOOWWWWWWWWWW!"

She was bouncing frantically on her toes, arse on fire. He reached over and, with a moue of distaste, pushed a hand into her back to hold her down. He applied the ruler briskly to each thigh, just as promised. He didn't make her count; she was crying too hard to make sense.

Finally he stopped and the only sounds were the harsh breathing of one and the sobbing of the other. He dropped the ruler and watched, appalled and exultant, as the stripes formed on her skin. She had tobe in hideous pain, wretched pain and he had caused it…did he feel vindicated?

No. Draco still felt that awful curiosity to see whether her skin felt as burning hot as it looked. His hand came forward and a finger lightly traced a stripe. She jumped, whined, fidgeted. "I didn't say you could move."

He gently pressed his hand onto her burning arse. She gasped as his cold skin came in contact, hesitated. She sobbed, scared he would touch her, but he simply rested.

"Go in the WC and wash your face, mudblood. Stay in there until I call you."

Hermione went in and bathed her face, not looking at herself. She couldn't even begin to quantify how she felt. He quietly summoned an elf, explained that he had been studying and burned his finger slightly with some candle wax; Nippy was to get him some cooling salve, not mention it to anyone, understood?

The elf was more than happy to oblige and within minutes Draco was holding a tub of the stuff, as well as the knickers he'd taken as punishment. He sent the elf away and called the mudblood. She wouldn'tlook at him, which was just fine. He sat down again and called her over.

"Over my knee. No, not for that. I ah—ordered some salve. Simply so it doesn't attract attention tomorrow in class, understand? I'm not always going to be so kind to you." He began smearing the stuff into her skin. He could see where it was needed, after all, and it wouldn't do to have his toy getting the wrong kind of attention.

She relaxed a little as the salve took the edge off the sting. It didn't really help much, but it cooled the worst of the flames. Sitting would be pure hell, but it would be a possible hell.

He recapped the salve. "Up and look at me."

"What do you say, Granger?"

"Thank you, sir, for giving me a smacking."

"And?"

"Giving me salve. Sir."

He nodded for her to re-dress. She roughly pulled her skirt down, gasping at the feel of her wool kilt on her scorched rear end, and decided to forego panties all together. Draco took a moment in the WCto straighten up and when he came out, she was quite herself again. He noticed as she was closing her robes that her fingertips were bloody.

Without thinking he seized her hand in his. Small, warm hand. The finger tips were bitten ragged, not only the nails but the cuticles as well. He sneered.

" Have you never heard of a nail file?"

"I had other things on my mind." He shot her a dangerous look and she said quickly "Sir."

"Don't come here with them like this again. It's unsanitary and looks hideous." Flipping her palms he accio'd the ruler and gave each one a warning swat, not as hard as it should have been. " Did you care for your first taste of the ruler?"

"No, sir."

"I'd bring the brush next time, then."

They turned to go. He reached out again and grabbed her arm. "Remember what I said about healing yourself?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're to heal your fingers but not your arse. I will know if you disobey and double tonight's punishment. Saturday night at ten thirty, by the humpbacked witch again. I think you know not to be late." He quickly did the glamour again, slightly sorry he had to conceal the marks of his…triumph? Shame?

He walked her back, not whistling this time. He felt tired and victorious and guilty in a way he didn't want to think about. He rearmed her and watched as she vanished into the portrait hole. He would see her tomorrow and say nothing. She would not seek him out. His hand remembered her flesh, scalding and tender. He went back to his dorm and showered, the hot water reddening his translucent skin.

He closed his eyes and let the spray wash away her last trace, that image of her. He was a Malfoy, after all; until Saturday night, she was only the mudblood again.
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Favour Me With Silence