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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
- 1
- 2
- 3
I am absolutely overwhelmed by all of the positive feels behind this new story! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, Favorited, and/or followed Sex Ed from the get go. I also would like to thank a reviewer, Frogster, for the suggestion to combine classrooms. I might have taken an idea or two... Anyways, here's chapter 2!
A.
'Cause Allie I was so good back then
But I wonder if I'd be so good if I saw you again
Listen miss, you've got me
You should've taught me such naughty things
(you should have taught me such naughty things)
Oh you could've taught me such naughty things
"Allie" by Patrick Stump
Draco Malfoy stared down at his blank bit of parchment on the top of his desk, frustrated beyond a shadow of a doubt. He unclasped the top button of his work robes and loosened his tie, anticipating a long and frustrating night of re-constructing his curriculum to adhere to his bet with Granger. I'm such a dolt he thought huffily. He hadn't entirely thought it through when he had approached her about her scandalous text book. Really, he had just wanted to egg her on a bit. Learning that one of your childhood rivals was now going to be a regular, everyday occurrence would get under anyone's skin. And besides, that textbook had been less than acceptable by his standards. Why on Earth did children need to talk about their sexual urges in a classroom setting? Wasn't that what a good romp in the restricted section was for?
With a heavy sigh, he began to scribble down all of the potions in his mind arsenal that he could muster that would apply to the topic at hand. There were potions for contraception, hormonal changes, menstrual cycles (wince), pregnancies, acne… well, the list could go on and on. And they could be easily brewed in the privacy of one's home. All of that muggle stuff Granger wanted to bring up in class… well… that's what one's parents were for. It was highly inappropriate for a Professor to have that kind of rapport with her students, as if sex was a topic that should be held in civil conversation… hmph…
"Merlin's saggy left testicle, I sound like a prude," he sighed to himself.
"Well, at least that's something we can both agree on," said a confident, airy voice from his classroom doorway. Draco pried his eyes upwards and away from his notes to Professor Granger, still dressed in her work robes and carrying a large clipboard.
"What do you want?" he sneered.
Granger wore a simple smile as she approached him, stopping only when she made it to the opposite end of his desk and took a seat atop one of the work benches meant for the children to brew potions on. Not for her slim figure to sit precariously atop of the countertop with her long legs peeking out from underneath those atrocious robes that were three sizes too large for her slender frame. Draco didn't mean to analyze her appearance, but he was so desperate for something to tease her about that he found himself dragging his eyes over the brown curls of her hair and her unblemished face, aside from a few scattered freckles along the bridge of her nose. She used to be such an ugly little brute when they were children, what with her frizzy hair and buck teeth. Now, her hair only accentuated her smooth skin, framing her slender neck and drawing attention down to her delicate collar bone. He jerked his eyes away quickly and settled them back on her brown eyes. Merlin, he needed to get laid. Even Hermione Granger was looking like a promising prospect at this point… and that was just simply unacceptable.
He sat up straighter in his chair, fiddling with his tie. When she didn't answer him, he asked again, "What do you want?" He snapped his fingers in the air haughtily.
"Oh. Yes." She jerked her attention back to him as if she had been lost in thought. Her hands pushed out and presented her clipboard out to him for him to take, which he did (begrudgingly). "I sat down on some of my downtime today and wrote up a proposal-"
"Aww, Granger, I'm so flattered," He said dryly.
She rolled her eyes and continued, "A proposal for an intermediate schedule during the week to combine our efforts in the sexual education of the students."
Draco raised a cool, collected eyebrow and smirked. "Combined efforts? Is that what you're calling our little row?"
"If our little row ends up educating the children on the curriculum I planned to teach already, why not take advantage of your credentials?"
"If I didn't know any better, I would say that sounded like a compliment."
"Good thing you know better, then." She stood up from her seat and leaned a hand down across his planner, unassumingly pushing her breasts in his eye line, even if they were covered by the thick ebony material of her robes. Draco had to concentrate on keeping his attention down to her finger pressed firmly on the clipboard. Breasts were breasts, and he was only a man. He swallowed a hard lump in his throat and followed her finger to the highlighted, boxed, and numbered brackets of the schedule she had outlined. "I asked Headmistress McGonagall for a copy of your schedule so that I could adhere it to my own. I notice that you and I both have fifth years on Tuesdays, sixth years on Wednesdays, fourth years on Thursdays, and on Fridays: the seventh years. I thought that perhaps, once a week, we could concentrate our efforts on one class together."
"You want to combine our classrooms once a week?"
"So that each class gets an educational, combined class once a month. It would ensure both of us could keep an eye out for how the other teaches, what we'd like to compare and contrast, and then we can access the situations through quizzes at the end of each month." She smiled triumphantly down at him, only mere inches from his face. Draco was vaguely aware that she smelled of lavender and roses as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and awaited his answer.
Oh. That's right. He should say something, shouldn't he? "Let me guess. You've already cleared this with the Headmistress."
"Yup!" She flashed her (now) perfectly straight teeth and gave a conceited wave of the hand. It made him nauseous at how chipper she was with herself. No one should ever be that happy. He silently prayed he could find a way to knock her down a peg or two. "What say you, Malfoy? Think you could handle a classroom with me?"
"I did it for six years of my childhood. What's another half a year?" He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair to keep himself from inhaling her scent any longer; it was doing things to his body he didn't particularly agree with. "Tell me, Professor Granger, what do you call that scent you're wearing? Ode de insufferable perfectionist?"
"Actually, it's called Malfoy's a prude number 7."
"Was that supposed to be an insult?" He snorted a laugh and leaned forward again, this time pressing his face into her personal space just to annoy her. And it did- or at least, he thought it did, because her cheeks tinted a marvelous shade of magenta. "Tell you what, why don't you just come to my dormitory sometime and I'll show you how far from a prude I really am." He quirked up a superior, suggestive eyebrow, reveling in her display of horror and disgust.
She scrambled for a response, clinging to one life a life raft as she spoke. "Are you that desperate for intimacy that you'd stoop to inviting me into your dormitories? Have you forgotten that I'm muggle born? I had no idea the Malfoy name would allow itself to be tarnished with the idea of me screaming your name beneath you."
Draco felt his cheeks flush -one, because she was talking about sex, and two, because the idea of any woman screaming his name beneath him sent a jolt through his lower abdomen like an electrical heatwave. Despite his embarrassment, he managed to retort with an air of confidence, "So… you're a screamer?"
The look he procured from her was priceless; her jaw unhinged as her mouth fell open, parting those soft, alluring lips… damn it. No. Not alluring. Stupid. Stupid lips from a stupid woman with a stupid name. What sort of name was 'Hermione' anyways?
Granger managed to snap her mouth closed as she snatched up her clipboard and slipped the top bit of parchment out and shoved it into his face. Draco scrambled back, grasping at the insulting paper and yanking it out of his face. When he caught her eyes again, they were flooded with anger, despite the calm nature in which she spoke. "That's your copy. And I really don't care if you approve of the schedule or not. It's already been sanctioned by the Headmistress herself." She stood up, pushing out those perky, modestly covered mounds of flesh that had peaked Draco's interest. "The schedule starts next week. I've written down each topic and color coordinated it to its appropriated week."
"Ever the little quibbler."
"Goodnight, Malfoy."
She turned on her heels and sauntered out of the doorway quicker than Draco could retort, "That's Professor Malfoy to you!" But she was already gone, and he was left seated in his chair with a half-formed erection pressing frustratingly against his zipper.
Yup. He definitely needed to get laid. And soon, before he actually let himself think of Granger as a sexual prospect.
No. Cold shower. Hand. That's what he had used for these last six months. He could hold out until the end of term. He wouldn't allow himself the thought of himself buried deep within Hermione Granger as she clawed at his back and screamed his name into oblivion.
Hermione threw herself down onto the firm, musty smelling mattress of her bed and tried to push out the infuriating silver-gray eyes of one Draco Lucius Malfoy from behind her eyelids. Perhaps this entire situation was already out of hand -when he had suggested (in a breath of hot air, of course, he'd never actually meant it) that she could come back to his dormitories, there was this mortified part of her that secretly wanted to take him up on the offer. And it wasn't because she liked him -far from it. She actually despised the man on nearly every level. But it had been nearly two years since she had been… intimate… with anyone. And that anyone's name was Ronald Weasley.
She could still recall the way his lips felt on hers and the way his firm hands would rake across her body. They'd broken it off for childish reasons, but it had still left an emotional scar deep on Hermione's psyche to the point that she hadn't allowed herself intimacy with anyone else since. It had all been so innocent -all she had wanted to do was try something exciting in the bedroom. Like –leaving it, for one.
She closed her eyes tighter, trying to fight off the fiendish memories, but they prevailed. She could still hear Ron's words ringing in her ears like bells.
"You want to what now?"
"Tonight. At the dinner party. I thought maybe we could… sneak off." Hermione bit her lower lip as she tried to entice her then boyfriend Ronald Weasley to venture into uncharted waters with her at Harry and Ginny's engagement dinner.
Ron gave her an incredulous look and rubbed the back of his thick, red hair. "I dunno, Mione. I mean… we could get caught."
"Yes, but that's the thrill of it, isn't it?"
"You get a thrill out of being caught?"
"Well, no." She frowned. "Just the idea that we could be caught. Doesn't that sound like an experience worth having?"
"Not really, no." Ron's eyebrows furrowed together. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I love what we do when we're alone. But that's it. We're alone. I don't think I could stomach it if Ginny or my Mum caught me going at it with you in the lavatory."
Hermione's heart burst ever so slightly. "Oh. But you could go at it with Lavender Brown in the halls of Hogwarts, no issues?"
"What?" He scowled. "That's not fair, Hermione. I was young. Impressionable."
"That was four years ago. You're hardly much older than you were."
"Don't get all snippy with me," he sighed. "I just don't think I'm interested in that kind of… stuff."
"Stuff? Is that what you're calling our relationship? Stuff?"
"Oh come on. You know that's not what I meant. I meant the…" His voice lowered. "The dirty bit."
"Oh my lord, Ronald!" Hermione's voice waned of patience. "It's sex! Just call it what it is! Sex!"
"Alright, Hermione! Sex!" He shouted back. "I don't want to deviate from the
sex we've been having! The sex we've been having is fine!"
"Is it?" She found herself yelling back at him. "Well, I'm glad you're satisfied! Because I hardly think that ten minutes in a missionary position is
fine!"
"We do it with you on top too!" He said pathetically, ears turning a brilliant shade of scarlet.
"Yes. And when have you stopped to consider the meaning of foreplay?"
"I touch you," he said, quieter. "I dunno what you want from me."
"Kiss me. Ravish me. Take me like I'm the last woman on Earth, Ron. That's what I want." She put her hands on her hips and sighed. "I want to be more adventurous."
Ron swallowed, mouth closing shut in an attempt to stifle the nervous laughter as he shifted on his feet from one foot to the other. "If I'm such an inadequate lover, why don't you go find someone who'll stoke your fires?" His words slapped her like a broomstick to the face.
Hermione's chest seized up, and her breathing caught. "You… you don't mean that."
"Maybe I do," he whispered, sticking his hands in his pockets. He looked sad, but determined, as he spoke. "I dunno what it is, Hermione. We have fun together outside of the bedroom, but… you're right. It isn't working between us."
"I never said our -relationship- wasn't working. I only meant that-"
"-I know what you meant," he interrupted her. "But I know what I mean too. And I don't think this is working."
"Ron…"
He batted away a tear that had fallen down his cheek and stalked towards the floo. "Look… I'll owl you, alright? I just… need some time to think."
That had been two years ago. Two long years of awkward family dinners and awkward questions from friends and awkward glances across the Ministry and awkward resignations from the Ministry from Hermione to pursue an awkward career as a Healer because damn it, the awkwardness had been much too much to handle.
She swiped at some stray tears and rolled over, sticking her face into her pillow.
So, maybe the idea of shagging Malfoy until his breath was ragged was just her sexually deprived hormones. That's what she told herself as she breathed heavily into the pillow to slow down her heartbeat. She wondered if Malfoy even knew what sexual deviancy was, or if he was just as vanilla as Ron. With his views on sexual education, Hermione came to the assumption that it was probably the latter.
But what if he weren't? What if he was actually a sexually pent up sex-god who loved to take a woman in the Restricted section of the library under the light of a muted lantern? What if he knew exactly how to please a woman as he teased her nipples and played with her between her legs and fed her dirty, filthy language in her ear, all whilst pressing up against her in the most immodest way possible? What if he got off on spanking and tie ups and oral reciprocation?
Hah. Yeah right. And what if pigs could fly as well?
But the thought of Malfoy playing with her fed a churning, scorching ember deep within her core. It helped that he was something to look at, even if he was a snot nosed git with way too much inheritance to count. His pointed features had made him look like a ferret as a child -now they only made his smirk that much more engrossing and his eyes that much more fascinating. And there was that pressing matter of that Morsmordre Mark on his left arm that sent out giant red flags everwhere: Danger! Danger! Do not approach! Do not even think of him in that way! Ex Death Eater! Hello? Are you there? Earth to Hermione Jean Granger!
Well, that did it. That completely took away her sexual urges.
That was, until she thought of him peeling a thin, silky shirt off of his head to reveal said Mark. Was he built, she wondered? Was he obnoxiously skinny underneath those robes? Or did he have wiry muscles that connected down to a pelvic V? Perhaps the curtains matched the drapes?
Oh, for the love of House Elves! This wasn't getting her anywhere.
Hermione gave a heated huff as her hand traveled down between her legs to rub up against the flannel material of her pajama pants. She slipped her fingers underneath the thin elastic and traveled further, right over the fabric of her silk underwear. As she slid delicate circles over her lustful arousal, she closed her eyes again and tried to imagine a faceless-gentlemen who didn't possess white-blonde hair doing unholy things to her in this bed right now. This faceless gentleman, and not Malfoy, would know to kiss up and down the length of her neck while teasing her with his long, pianist fingers. He would bite her shoulder; not enough to bruise, but enough to elicit a timid gasp from her as he pulled her flesh against him so that she could feel the firm muscle of his erection press into her backside.
Her fingers slipped under her panties and found the wet, wanting flesh of her excitement and frustration, rubbing up and down her begging lips in an attempt to relieve some of this sexual frustration.
The not-Malfoy man would know to push his fingers up against her aching center, not quite dipping it in yet, but drawing careful circles around it while whispering filthy things in her ear like, 'Want to make you scream my name.' and 'Put your pretty little lips to good use.' He'd then press a sure finger into her, filling her up for the first time in years, while running those graceful lips over the shell of her ear to whisper…
Knock, knock, knock.
Hermione growled in frustration, jettisoning herself upright and removing her hand from between her legs. Even in the privacy of her own dorms, she couldn't get release. She hastily slipped out of bed, bundling her favorite red plush blanket that she had brought from home around herself as she trudged over to the door and threw it open.
"What?" She seethed, not even knowing (or really caring) who was on the other side.
Much to her chagrin, it was none other than the not object of her sexual fantasy moments ago, Draco Malfoy. He wore a casual set of robes, his tie removed, and an insatiable smirk written in the lines of his face. He sniggered behind his hand before setting it down at his side to say, "Well hello to you too."
"P-Professor Malfoy." Hermione's eyes widened, and she drew the blanket skintight around her. "What are…" She cleared her throat, suddenly very aware of the way her knickers pooled in warmth and wetness at the sight of him. "What are you doing here?"
"I was just doing my nightly patrol and thought I'd come here to give you this." He glanced down to his chest and withdrew a small envelope from his breast pocket. Hermione raised an eyebrow as he handed it to her and tucked his hands behind his back.
"You climbed all of those steps just to give me this?"
"I think you'll find that being a Professor at Hogwarts gives you quite a bit of downtime." His tone was light hearted -playful even. But Hermione had never seen Draco Malfoy be playful, so perhaps she was reading into it the wrong way. Yes, that would have to be it. "Open it."
"In front of you?"
"Yes. Of course. I want to see your face when you do." He flashed her a set of pearly whites and stared intently into her eyes.
Hermione, baffled, reached down, opened the envelope, and pulled out a thick card stock square that read in graceful handwriting, 'Do you scream when you lose, too?'
She could feel the muscles around her eyes pull, and she knew that all of the blood to her entire body had pulled up into her face. She could probably blend in with the Weasleys: her face would have matched their hair entirely. Hermione pried her eyes up to Malfoy's face, which seemed to be quite satisfied with her reaction.
His smirk widened, and he laughed quietly to himself. "Priceless." He sent a hand waving in the air as he stepped back from the threshold of her doorway and made it to the top of the staircase. "Have a pleasant evening, Professor Granger!" His laughs could be heard the entire time as he made his way down her staircase, and even a bit more as sauntered down the hallway to patrol the schools once more.
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Sex Ed