Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 21
- 22
- 23
A/N:
A lot of you are going to be wondering where I'm going with the next few chapters after this. I want you to know, you can trust me. I'm not going to take this somewhere rediculous. Waymay and I mapped out this plot (and the climactic moments) a ways back. So, if you feel like you're not sure whether to trust it or not, know that I won't destroy this story. I aim to keep you on your toes, and nothing is ever as it seems in my stories. XD
Thank you Waymay, for taking the time to work through this with me, and also for proofing it. XD This is one of my favorites.
Again, go check out Empire and give it a review! Link can be found on my Author's page!
~A.
You never were in love with her
You tell yourself but you're not sure
You cast your mind back in time
And nearly crash your car
And suddenly you are
Suddenly you are
Suddenly you are
"Suddenly You Are" by Michael Grimm
"You're late."
He didn't bother to look up from his desk as Hermione entered, stepping through the threshold between his classroom and his private office. Two things prickled her mind, sending her in a nervous state of humiliation.
One: she needed to tell Draco about her and Ron's discussion, and she was sure that her lie was going to make everything crumble apart. She hadn't wanted to lie to Ron; she'd desperately wanted to tell him the truth, but she couldn't stand the thought of Draco sacked on her behalf. Headmistress McGonagall was understanding, but with Ron's pull at the Ministry and parents already writing in about Draco's less-than-satisfactory background, she didn't want to risk it. Now she wished, very dearly, she could go back and confess everything, but admitting she lied to Ron, now, would only make things worse.
And then… there was number two: the outfit she wore under her Hogwarts-regulation robes. The material was much too tight (probably having undergone some serious shrinking charms), and her skin was left far more exposed than wanted. She would attempt to keep her robes on for as long as she could to avoid the humiliation of what she wore underneath.
Hermione watched as Draco scribbled away on some parchment, his plumed quill wiggling this way and that.
"Sit," he ordered, pointing the quill to the cushioned armchair on the other side of his desk, meant for visitors. His eyes, still, did not look up.
"Draco, I need to talk to you-"
"-Are you hard of hearing, Miss Granger? I said sit."
Sighing, Hermione crossed her arms and threw herself into the armchair, her eyebrows creasing together in a display of annoyance. "Seriously, can we talk for a moment?"
For the first time this evening, his eyes found hers, and he sat his quill inside an ink bottle near his hand. "Yes, I think that's a fine idea." He smirked. "Tardiness isn't tolerated in my classroom, Miss Granger. You'd do well to remember that."
"Oh,for goodness- I'm five minutes late. I got caught up preventing Peeves from dismantling a chandelier and-"
"-Talking out of term also is not permitted." He slammed a book on his desk closed and leaned forward. "Did you have a pleasant afternoon?"
"Oh? Am I allowed to speak now?" she quipped, uncrossing her arms to place them nervously in her lap. "Actually, there's something I need to discuss with you." Her eyes jerked down to her hands. "Ron and I-"
"Did he shove his tongue down your throat?"
"No."
"Then it can wait." He sat up straight again, placing his hands on the table to push himself up to stand. "Are you aware that you're failing my class, Miss Granger?" His fingers strummed along the table as he sidestepped around it, approaching her with slow precision.
"I wasn't aware I was taking your-" She cut herself off, making the connection between her hidden outfit and Draco's words. "Oh." She blushed. "Oh." Now she felt terrible! Here, she was planning on confessing about lying to Ron, and Draco had planned out an evening of taking his list to heart. She really should tell him. Best to get it over with and not draw the moment out, "Draco-"
"Do you refer to all of your professors by their given name, Miss Granger? Quite uncommon, I should say, and highly inappropriate." He made it to his destination, standing in front of her while leaning back against his desk, his arms folded and a smirk across his face.
Hermione sighed, giving in. "I'm sorry, Professor Malfoy. How rude of me." She'd play this little game for a moment, make him happy, and then she would tell him. She wouldn't let it go too far. Just enough to make him less inclined to anger. "And… I'm sorry for my tardiness." Her eyes were in direct view of his groin, and she yearned to be rid of her secret so that she could enjoy this. It ate at her, and she clenched her fingers around her knees, eyes drifting down to his shoes. "If you'd let me explain-"
"I don't need excuses," he fussed, waving a hand in the air, "I, simply, expect better of you. You're my favorite student, after all."
Oh. He was good. Playing up the professor/student bit, knowing that Hermione loved being teacher's pet (she'd never thought of it in the sexual sense, of course, but now…) "Thank you, Professor Malfoy." She felt her resolve slip, giving way to her lustful urges. It was hard to think straight when Draco Malfoy stood in front of her and fed her lines about being his 'favorite' anything. -No, she told herself. She'd been enough of a coward today. She should be brave. "I-told-Ron-I-was-dating-Neville!" she burst out, pinching her eyes shut. The room grew deathly quiet as she waited for his response.
It didn't come.
Moments passed in quietness until Hermione pried one eye open, and then the other, to look at him. His face was cold, nearly unreadable, and his jaw was tense. There was tension around his eyes like he might be holding back the urge to squint at her, and the muscles in his neck were tight. He spoke softly, but sternly. "You what?"
"I told Ron I'm dating Neville," she said again, nails digging into her knees -if it weren't for the material of her robes, she was sure she would have drawn blood.
"That's what I thought you said," he replied in that same, nearly monotone manner of speech. "The question I cannot wrap my head around is why."
"To save your job," she explained, eyebrows knitted together. "He was on a roll today, going on and on about his hatred for you."
"Interestingly enough, my sentiments towards him are quite similar." He rubbed his palm over his mouth and down his chin, breaking his calm. "What were you thinking, Hermione?"
"I was thinking about you! When Ron tried to kiss me today-"
"-I thought you said he didn't-"
"-You asked me if he did! I said he tried." She brushed a tear away as it fell down her cheek. "He laid all of his cards on the table, and he played the sympathy up well because he had me going there for a moment-"
"Did he now?"
"Not like that!" She stood straight up, batting at more tears with her knuckles.
"Why are you crying?" he sneered, though it was half-hearted. It was obvious there sat a part of him that wanted to console her.
"I've gone through quite an emotional rollercoaster today, Draco. Forgive me if I'm not perfect every moment of every day."
"Well, of course, you're not perfect," he muttered, and she turned her eyes up to him. "Merlin knows you have flaws. But so do I. Just the thought of you being anywhere near that toe-rag makes me want to…" He snapped his jaw shut and averted his gaze.
His response floored her. On the subject of perfection, Ron had told her he thought she was; Draco made it clear he knew she wasn't. And hearing that made her heart tug, in a good way. She didn't want to be put on a pedestal, ever, she realized.
"Draco…" she reached out and placed a hand on his wrist, though his arms were still crossed. "I'm sorry. I didn't do it to hurt you. I wanted to protect you. To protect us."
"Is there an us if we have to lie about it to save face with your turnip-faced friends?" He glowered at her. She fell silent. "I don't know if you're aware of this, Hermione, but when I date someone, I don't do it lightly." The silver flecks in his eyes darkened to charcoal. "When I began to pursue you, I had no idea I was going to-" he stumbled over his words, "-to feel… to feel so much, you know?" He brushed her hand off of him. "I thought 'hey, lookie there. There's Granger. My, she has a nice rack.' -And then we talked on the staircase, and I thought, 'Merlin, she's more tolerable now than she ever was back in school.' And then we had that moment in your room…" He smirked, though it was icy. "And I began to wonder why I couldn't get you out of my mind. You were like my own personal wormwood, come to root in my brain and destroy my sense of control."
"I never meant to…" she whispered, finding it hard to breathe. His glare was suffocating.
"Well, of course, you never meant to. How were you supposed to know? All you had to do was walk into the room, and my libido soared out the roof. Not to mention my desire to attain your attention. And when I asked you for coffee, do you have any idea what was going through my mind?"
She blinked. "In all honesty, no."
"I wanted you to turn me down so that I could find an excuse to leave you alone –and lo and behold, you did. And I couldn't stand it. I practically begged you with seduction just to get a chance with you, because, for some reason, I desperately wanted that coffee." He rubbed his face with his hands, glancing at her. "I like you, Hermione. I really do. But I don't do well with sharing what's mine, even if it is figurative." He reached out, curled his fingers around her wrist, and tugged her to him. "And you are mine. Not Longbottom's. And most certainly not Weasley's." He stroked his fingers down the side of her cheek, wiping away some of her tears. "If I lose my job for dating you, then I've lost it for the right reasons."
She stared up at him, bewildered and humbled. "But… but you love it here. You love the students. You love-"
He pressed a finger to her lips, rendering her silent. "Unlike you, my career doesn't play first string to my heart. I'd gladly take the hit if it meant that I could be open and honest about you."
Hermione couldn't help it -she began to cry more. "You say that now, but we both know your family would never approve-"
"-My family has no say in anything I do anymore. Nor do my friends. Only I call the shots, and I say you're worth standing in the line of fire for." He genuinely smiled.
"You're… being rather calm about all of this," she noted.
"Yes, well, it seems while you're giving out confessions, I have one of my own as well. -Longbottom might be under the impression that I'm an escort for hire, and you're my client."
It didn't register to Hermione at first. "Why would he think that you're-" and then it hit her like a brick house falling from a tornado. All that was left was for some little girl to steal her ruby red slippers. "NO." She gasped, putting a hand to her mouth to stifle it. "No!" She shook her head.
"Oh, yes, my sweet Mistress." He gave her a flirtatious wink.
"He overheard us…"
"He did."
"Oh God." She hid her face in her hands. "Oh, strike me down this instant." Then it occurred to her, "-Wait. If he thinks what he saw was real… and you know about it… haven't you tried to correct him?" She swatted his arm, hard.
"Ow!" He frowned at her. "Easy on the merchandise."
"How long have you known he's been under this misunderstanding?"
"A few weeks now."
"A few weeks?" She tallied it up in her head. "But -you told me that he knew about us."
"Yeah… about that." He smirked. "He might have thought I was referencing to his assumption, and not our actual relationship?"
She swatted him on the arm with both of her hands, even harsher than before.
"OW!" he snapped. "Seriously, that hurts!"
"You." Swat. "Are." Swat. "An." Swat. "Absolute." Swat. "CUR!" Double swat.
"Ouch!" He caught her hands by the wrists and held them out to the side. "It was all in good fun, Hermione!"
"Good fun? Is that what you call it? Neville thinks I paid you for sex!"
"And Weasley thinks you're dating Longbottom!" He shouted back. "I think that pretty much makes us even!"
"It most certainly does not!"
"How does it not?"
"I lied to protect you! You lied to get your jollies off on Neville! -Oh, what he must think of me…" She tried to jerk her hands out of his grasp, but he couldn't be budged. "You have to correct this. No- scratch that. I have to rectify this. If I send you to do it, Neville will come back thinking I've paid off the entire Bulgarian Quidditch team as well!"
"Hey," he said, "I would never say something so foul. I want him to imagine me shagging you, not anyone else." He looked down to his hands fastened around her wrists, and his smirk widened. "Speaking of which, I think a lesson is in order, here."
"Lesson?" She noticed the widening of his pupils. "Don't tell me this is actually turning you on?"
"And if it is? I can't help it, Hermione. The idea of teaching you a lesson has my skin tingling." His eyes danced over her face and neck. "Besides, we both know the best kind of sex is make-up sex."
"It is?"
His smirk faltered. "Hmm." Draco tilted his head. "That's rare. Usually, you're the one schooling me in broadening my sexual horizons. I suppose it's fitting I be the one to show you a thing or two." He licked his lips, lost in his thoughts for a moment. "So, just to be clear, you're telling me, you and Weasley never once had angry sex that led into passionate lovemaking?"
Lovemaking? Hermione was sure she hadn't experienced much of that at all. Not that Ron hadn't loved her. And not that she hadn't loved him. But when they got angry, they would storm off to bed, or one would sleep on the sofa. And when the fight was done, it usually fizzled over a couple of days until, eventually, both just ignored the problem or moved on.
"Not really, no."
"Not really? Or no?"
"No."
Draco appeared to be the cat that just got the cream, and he released her wrists. "Just to be clear, I'm still very unhappy with you. I expect this business with Weasley to be cleared up, or I promise you, you won't like me when I'm angry."
Hermione couldn't help it. She sniggered into the back of her hand.
"What's so funny?" he snapped.
" 'You won't like me when I'm angry,'" she imitated. "Hulk smash."
"What, in the name of Merlin, is a 'Hulk'?" He dismissed it immediately. "Take a seat, Miss Granger. Now." Draco fell right back in step with his Professor Malfoy persona, pointing to the chair. Hermione sighed, not wanting to push her luck, did as she was told. He smiled, satisfied, and leaned back against the wood of his desk. "As I was saying, you've been quite insubordinate these last few days. Lying. Manipulating. Teasing. -Quite out of character for an academic witch, such as yourself."
Hermione's heart quickened, and guilt banged against her chest. Draco forgave her so quickly… well, why shouldn't he? He lied to Neville just as much as she lied to Ron. Maybe she could forget about it all for just a little while…
"I'm sorry, Professor." She chewed on the word seductively. "Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain."
Draco quirked both eyebrows, impressed by her double entendre. "It's rather stuffy in here. Perhaps you should remove your robes."
Not wanting to drop the game, and filled with a new sense of sexual desire, she nibbled on her lower lip while unbuttoning the top clasp of her robe. And then the next. And the next, until she sluffed it off of her shoulders, revealing the outfit beneath.
The Gryffindor uniform had been transformed quite a bit before Hermione got ahold of it -the gray, pleated skirt drew a line across her upper thighs, and the standard issue sweater altered with a deep U-shape in the neckline. Her breasts practically spilled out, revealing the red and gold bra provided for her. The white button up, one might ask? It hadn't been afforded to her. But a red and gold striped tie had, spilling down her revealing neckline to match her undergarment. Black, knee-high socks teased down her lower legs, complimenting a pair of polished Mary-Janes.
Draco looked like a child on Christmas morning, and he swallowed audibly. He pointed to the door, which led out to his classroom. "Everyone will be eating in the Great Hall. But not you, Miss Granger. You have detention. With me. Right now."
So this was why she wasn't to be late -he'd fit in a time where no one would bother them. Smart.
She hopped out of her chair at once, folded her arms behind her back, and smiled sweetly. "Yes, Professor." She led the way out of the office and watched as the door to the classroom swung shut at the other end. Turning her head, she caught Draco mid-motion as he cast a locking, then silencing charm on the door. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to get me alone, Professor."
There was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes, though his face remained terse. "You'll be cleaning out cauldrons tonight, Miss Granger, for your insubordination." He flicked his wand again and conjured three medium sized cauldrons onto the nearest worktable. From a shelf nearby, he plucked some cleaning solution and a toothbrush, offering it out to her.
"You're… you're not serious," she sputtered out, nearly furious. Did he truly mean for her to serve detention? Had she misunderstood the idea of foreplay all these years? Because it certainly wasn't cleaning out crusty cauldrons, that was for sure.
"I'm as serious as they come."
"Draco-"
He shoved the solution and brush in her hands, leaning forward. "Professor Malfoy."
"Professor," she corrected, though her voice no longer carried that cadence of appreciation; only contempt. She thought up something from the background of her memories -a phrase she'd heard him use on multiple occasions when he didn't gotten his way back in school. "My father will hear about this."
A grin spread across his lips, and he nearly laughed before his eyes darkened, and he said in a thick, seductive timbre, "See to it that he does. After detention." He spun her around by the shoulders and marched her to the cauldrons. "I've always wanted to watch you do this," he chuckled, breaking character momentarily.
"What? The idea of me cleaning turn you on?"
"No." He shook his head, stepping forward to line himself parallel to her, inches from her back. His fingers grazed down her arms as his nose brushed against her cheek. "This is payback."
"Payback?"
"For forcing me to hide what we have." Large hands sculpted down her sides, resting firmly on her hips. "And for all those years you teased me in school."
"You were the one to tease me, remember?" she chided.
"I meant, with this." He jerked her hips back and into his pelvis at the same time that his lips found her earlobe. "Walking around, so prim. So proper. But yet so unaware of how," his teeth nibbled her ear, "enticing you looked walking to class, or eating a pastry, or watching us all play Quidditch."
Her head lulled to the side, and she released a reverent sigh. "You don't mean that…"
"I do."
She turned her head, meeting his brazen stare. "That would mean you've been attracted to me for years."
"It would."
She laughed, not mockingly, but disbelieving. "So that's why you want me to clean cauldrons? Because you're cross that your body found mine sexually attractive as teenagers?"
"No." He guided his hand around to her stomach, up her shirt, between her breasts, and finally resting it gently around her neck, making her groan in anticipation. "I'm afflicted because you never felt the same. Because I had to watch you saunter to class- and while you're an intelligent woman, it never dawned on you when you came into your body, or how your walk affected the boys in school." The hand on her hip gripped tighter, though the one around her neck remained lax. "I never understood, until you came back, just what kind of spell you cast on me all those years ago."
His words caressed her mind like honey dripping down onto a fresh dinner roll- sweet, and warm, and eliciting hunger deep within her core.
"I never knew you felt that way…"
"Neither did I until I realized…" his voice trailed off. They stood there, content for a moment, before Hermione's curiosity got the best of her.
"Realized… what? What did you realize?"
He kissed the edge of her jaw. "It's not important. Not right now." He, then, released her. "Get to scrubbing, Miss Granger." Draco backed away from her and walked around to the other side of the desk, raising both of his eyebrows forebodingly. "Professor Snape's disposition would make a tame example to mine should you disappoint me."
This wasn't fun anymore. Hermione spent the last fifteen minutes cleaning, in silence, while Draco looked on from the comfortable chair behind his classroom desk, which was only a smidgen smaller than the one located in his office. His feet propped up on the table; Draco smirked with his hands behind his head as he watched his witch scrub at the third cauldron with irritated vigor. She looked at him every few minutes, waiting for him to order her to do something else, or maybe break out into a laugh and call the whole thing off, but he only watched as she rolled up her sleeves, her hands now covered in grime and watered down soot.
Finally, she cracked.
"Professor," she snapped, slamming the toothbrush down on the table next to the cauldron. "What the Hell am I doing?"
"Detention."
Hermione walked over to the sinks at the back of the class, washed her hands, and dried them on a nearby towel. "I gathered that." The room filled with her exasperation. "When I came here, I thought… well, I thought things would be a bit different."
"Did you?" He gave an amused laugh. "How silly of you, Miss Granger." He shifted his feet so that one ankle overlapped the other, and he gave an exaggerated yawn. "What did you think would happen?"
"I don't know," she replied honestly, "Maybe you'd make me write lines, and then you'd bend me over your desk and..." She noticed the evil twinkle in his eye and slammed her hand down on the edge of the sink. "You planned this, didn't you?"
"Planned what?" His eyes danced with enjoyment at her outburst.
"You know damn well 'what.' You made me scrub those cauldrons knowing I'd cave eventually and do this right here." She pointed to the floor as if to make her argument more compelling. "You wanted me to practically beg for you to… to…" her voice slipped from her when his demeanor changed, and he slipped his feet down off of the desk and to the floor, hands pushing him up from his chair to stand.
"To what, Miss Granger?" He stalked around his desk and approached her, hands behind his back. "To ravish you? Is that what you were going to say?"
She licked her dry lips. "Something like that."
Draco stopped in front of her, untucking a hand to stroke the back of his knuckles gently down her cheek. "Sounds to me that someone has a crush on her Potion's professor." He cracked a smirk. "Is that what I'm hearing?"
Her eyes fluttered shut at the contact, and she leaned closer on instinct. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't fantasized…"
"Hmm?" His voice was enquiring and pleased. "Fantasized? That's highly inappropriate for a student." He tilted her chin upwards, brushing his thumb pad teasingly over her bottom lip. "Tell me about these fantasies."
She pried her eyes open, expecting to see a smirk but instead meeting a severe, poignant expression. Even if his voice held lust, his eyes seemed… there wasn't a word for it. Pensive wasn't enough. Sad was too strong. Troubled, maybe? As if he wanted desperately to say something but held himself back, instead.
"I've imagined having private lessons with you," she whispered, thinking back to her dream.
"And what happens in these 'private' lessons?"
"You run your hand up my skirt."
"Hmmm…" His eyes trickled down to her uniform, and his hand dusted the edge of her skirting. "Like this skirt here?" Fingers poised, he lifted the skirt ever so slightly, playing with the material between his fingertips.
"Yes," she said in a shaky voice, "Just like that."
"Now that I'm looking at this uniform, it doesn't seem up to school code." He eyed over her exposed cleavage and thighs. "What I mean to say is that someone could just-" His free hand jerked the side of her low-cut collar aside, revealing her covered breast. Hermione inhaled sharply and jumped. "Gryffindor through and through." His words were aimed at her scarlet and gold bra. Desperately wanting to point out that he had picked it out, but not wanting to break the sexual tension that was building, she shrugged in response and decided to go full Gryffindor on him.
"I'm sorry, Professor." Her hands ghosted over his, encouraging him. "If the uniform isn't up to code… perhaps it should be removed?"
It was exactly the right amount of teasing to ring Draco's bell -he sighed anxiously, fisting the skirt and tugging her forward. "My thoughts exactly." He spun her around and pressed her stomach into the edge of the counter, directly in front of the sink. He pulled down the zipper at the back of her skirt and yanked the material down over the apex of her hips, giving an anxious breath when he spotted- "You're not wearing underwear, Miss Granger." His eyes lingered on the peeking tops of her luscious ass cheeks.
"I'm not?" She smirked, turning her head to steal a glance over her shoulder. "Oh. Silly me."
"Ten points to Gryffindor," he said, biting his lower lip as his eyes snapped up to hers. "For imaginative foreplay." He cast her a wink before yanking her skirt all the way down the line of her legs until it pooled at her ankles. Hermione shuffled out of them, quickly.
"You do know that you potentially gave Gryffindor ten real points, don't you?" she pointed out, fighting the urge to shudder as a hand ran up her spine, stopped at her shoulder blades, and ushered her forward to bend over the sink. Draco shrugged in response, apparently committed to the task at hand. His hand rubbed adoringly at the round cheek it possessed, and his breathing was shallow. "And you do realize that our reasons for giving points goes on the permanent roster in the Headmistress's office?"
"Shit." Draco laughed nervously. "Do you think she actually reads it?"
"Only if there's a dispute at the end of the year over House Points. -Otherwise, no."
He shrugged again. "Worth it." He smacked her ass playfully. "Tell me again, Miss Granger, about these fantasies of yours? Do any of them involve me sticking my cock inside you?"
"I dunno," she shrugged, bringing her face back around to stare down at the sink. Her breasts looked like two globes tucked inside that bra of hers. "My boyfriend always wakes me up before I get to the best part."
"Sounds like a real cock-block."
Smack! His hand came down again, stinging her backside.
"Mmmhmm… he is." She licked at her upper lip, tasting the perspiration from sweat that had broken out across her skin. Part of her wanted to demand that he skip all the damned foreplay and get right down to it. But the other part of her enjoyed the banter. "He just doesn't do it for me the way you do, Professor."
The hand between her shoulder blades slipped up into the nape of her hairline and tugged a fistful of hair. "Hmm, I'm not sure. I've seen you walk the halls with him. Handsome man, he is, and he practically follows you around like a puppy. Don't you believe in loyalty, Miss Granger?"
She fought the urge to laugh, replying, "But Professor," she wiggled her hips seductively, "When I close my eyes, all I see is you."
She was sure she heard him pinch his breath to keep from moaning, and he pressed his crotch against her. "What a bad girl, you are."
"Yes. So bad."
"Didn't your parents ever discipline you?" Another swat to her bum had her gasping as heat spread across her skin.
"Never needed… much disciplining… Only when I'm around you."
"Perhaps I should oblige, then? It seems only fitting I gift you with a lesson in what a real man feels like nested between those thighs." He slipped his fingers down between her legs and palmed her. The heat of his skin made her groan wantonly. "Would you enjoy that, Miss Granger? Being disciplined by your professor in every sense of the word?"
"Yes!" she desperately gasped. "Mmhmm… please, Draco… Professor… give it to me."
"There you go again," he patted her pussy playfully, "Using my given name as if I'll allow it." Fingers danced over her clit, and Hermione gripped the edge of the counter harder, nails digging into the wood. "I think you need to be taught to respect authority. -Stay still." He released her at once, causing her to inhale breath after unstable breath. She peeked her head around to watch him stalk back over to his desk, where three, white paraffin candles burned, giving off most of the lighting, as it was beginning to darken outside. He raised an eyebrow to her, gesturing to the candles. "Did you honestly mean it when you said you wanted to try everything on my list?"
She looked to the candles, flames flitting back and forth, the connotations of what he asked coming to life. Very slowly, she nodded. "Yes, Professor. Everything."
He smirked, obviously relieved, and picked one up out of its stemmed candleholder. "I've been doing some research, you know. Into just how this might go." He approached her cautiously, though confident in his walk.
"Have you?" she whispered, anticipation rising. "That's… thorough…"
"Do you trust me?" This was the real Draco asking now, and not the Professor persona. Hermione nodded meekly, though acutely aware of her answer.
"Of course."
"Turn around, then."
She did, closing her eyes in the process to add to the suspense. "I've been such a bad student, Professor Malfoy. I arrived tardy and without a proper uniform. I deserve detention. I deserve so much more."
"You do," he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper as a hand glided down her hip and rested there. "And, as your Professor, I should make sure you're properly reminded of student/professor boundaries. -Such as calling me Draco…"
The first drop of wax along her ass cheek took her by surprise. The sharpness of the heat mixed with the subtle weight of the wax caused her to groan audibly, head thrown back between a combination of pain and pleasure. Never once had she allowed herself the image of fantasizing this in her mind, simply because she never thought she would find a partner daring enough to try it. When she'd added it to the list, she almost let her mind wander, but she had been sure he would cross it off as a 'never' and be done with it. When he checked 'Wish List,' she remembered her heart giving an astounding leap of hope. And now here they were, tucked away in his classroom, not only performing an apparent roleplay fantasy of his but also, secretly, giving Hermione something she'd wondered about for years. The sound of his voice ripped her from her inner thoughts.
"Well?" His voice sounded shy and testing. "Do you-"
"I love it," she answered immediately, cutting him off. "Please, Professor. More." She wagged her bum at him, offering herself up. "Please. Discipline me." She peered over her shoulder subtly to catch the smirk that played across his lips and watched as he raised the candle a safe distance away from her skin before dripping more droplets of wax onto her lower back and ass. "Yesss…" Hermione turned her face forward again and ran a hand over her covered breast, giving it a tender squeeze. "More."
Draco, having found his confidence once more, pushed her shirt up and trailed the wax carefully down her spine, taking note of her sighs, moans, and whines. When she sounded pleased, he'd stop the process, waiting for her to hiss or groan in protest before starting it up all over again. Each drop of wax atop Hermione's skin felt, to her, like a reminder of her trust in him. Wax play, if not done correctly, could result in burns or scarring. But Draco must have done his homework because the only burning done to her was the heat building between her thighs as they glistened with arousal. Already soaked, she bit down on her tongue to keep from demanding that he pound into her this very moment.
"Mmm… God, Professor Malfoy…" she panted.
"You're taking your scolding so well. Aiming to be teacher's pet by the end of this?"
"No, sir," Hermione replied, moaning, "I just want you to fuck me over your desk so hard that my legs shake."
Draco chuckled, then blew the candle out. "Very well. If that's what it takes. -Go, then. Bend over and take your punishment like a good girl."
She wasted no time in standing upright and crossing the classroom to his desk, pushing the chair back. Eyes on his, she smirked, challengingly, at him before tossing the paperwork on top of it over her shoulder. "Oops."
He chuckled. "Someone didn't learn her lesson." Draco stepped closer.
"No, apparently I didn't." She grinned at him, nudging her hand towards a stoppered ink bottle at the edge. He gave her a threatening expression, but, much like a determined cat, she batted it off and heard it clunk to the floor. "Oh dear. I'm sorry, Professor. It just fell all on its own."
"I'm sure it did," he replied, sarcasm etched in his tone. "And the paperwork? The wind?"
"Precisely."
"You haven't bent over that desk, yet, Hermione."
She smiled at her given name. "Professor Malfoy! I thought we weren't allowed to be so intimate."
"Yes, well, seeing as how I'm about to fuck you over the desk that I grade papers on, I say to Hell with it." He grinned back.
Hermione, in a show of obedience, lowered herself forward on the desk, purposefully, showing off the curves of her breasts teasingly hidden beneath the school uniform, her tie dipped between them. She placed one hand, and then the other, over the edging, and spread her legs for balance. "I'm waiting, Professor."
He growled, primal, unbuckling the clasp of his robes as he stormed up behind her. They fell to his feet at the same time that he went for the buckle of his pants. There was a shuffle of fabric, and another desperate snarl before his hand grasped her hip, and he shoved himself into her. Hermione's body tightened at the sheer force, causing her walls to clench around his throbbing cock and earning a gravelly moan deep from his throat.
"Oh!" She grasped the desk for support. "Fuck!"
"Language, Miss Granger." He drove into her, hard and abandoned of control. One hand wrapped around her throat with just enough pressure to claim possession, but not enough to choke her. "Mine," he said as if to reiterate the gesture, pounding away at her as her eyes shut tight, lost in the movements and sensations. His other hand dug deep into her hip, nails declaring what was his. "That mouth, that tongue, this tight, wet pussy -it's all mine, isn't it, Hermione?"
"Mmmgod… Yes. Yes, it is, Draco," she mumbled, desperation filling her voice as her body quivered, "All of it. I'm yours."
"And you're never," he tightened his fingers slightly, "going to betray my trust again, are you?"
"Fuck! No..." She could tell he was serious, and the atmosphere changed. Her magic tingled at her fingertips, electrifying the impulse to assure him. "No, Draco. Never again. I…" Overwhelmed by the sudden weight of her guilt, she felt tears press up underneath her eyes, but she fought them as her hormones teetered. Teeth sank into her neck, and the movements of his hips slowed, until he rested within her, occasionally rolling his hips to keep the build of her approaching orgasm. His fingers around her neck loosened, and then they were on her shoulder, her breast, her stomach, grinding himself into her with purpose. Hermione's breath caught, and a content sigh escaped her lips. "Mmm… Draco… I… I love it…I love… oh…" I love you…
Her eyes snapped open at her inner monologue, and a blasted tear escaped her eye to slide down her cheek. Draco didn't see it, thank Circe, and she felt relief when it fell into the messy curls of her hair which pressed against her face.
Now rolling his cock into her at a tender pace, Draco leaned forward and kissed between her shoulder blades. "I love hearing you moan, Hermione. I love that beautiful little sound you make when you try to hold yourself back from screaming. I love your lips," Kiss, "your eyes, your skin," another kiss, this time in the crook of her neck, "your nose." His breath tickled her cheek. "I love everything about you."
"Even when I piss you off?" she teased.
He pressed into her purposefully, making her gasp. "Especially then. Because, then, I get to do this," he gave a quick, forceful thrust, "right here."
"Fuck…"
"You like it when I go slow like this, love? You like it when I take you so slow? So tenderly?"
"Draco… you're going to make me…"
He pulled her upright to stand, still buried within her, one hand on her stomach while the other traveled down to play with her clit. "Come for me, Hermione. I love hearing you come. Do it for me, will you?" A few affectionate thrusts and some clitoral stimulation later, Hermione came undone, losing all inhibitions and crying out as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her. She choked back a scream as her hands fell back behind her and strummed through his hair.
"Draco…" she whispered, one last tear falling down her cheek. I love you, she thought, as if she could push it into his mind. I love you so much it hurts. But instead, she said aloud, "I want you to come."
"Yeah?" he chuckled, moving inside her once more. "You want me to come, Hermione?"
"I do."
"Where do you want me to come?"
It hadn't occurred to her that they'd been going at it like rabbits without protection until now. She'd need to remember to purchase a muggle morning after pill. She'd just been so caught up in the moment.
"Wherever you want," she whispered. If she was going to be purchasing after-sex protection, might as well leave the options open. After all, she wasn't ovulating, so the chances were super slim, anyway…
His answer shocked and aroused her at the same time. "How about on that ass? Does that sound fun to you?"
Merlin, fucking-Jesus himself, yes. She did love this man. "Mmm… do it." Without warning, Draco shoved her forcefully into the desk, a hand on the back of her neck as he bent her over and began to fuck away at her warm, wet center. She could hear it in his breathing, which became heavy and sparse, that he was close, and she egged him on, moaning, "God, Draco, yes, fuck me just like that. Come on me. I want to feel your warm cum on my-"
He jerked out of her, suddenly, and stroked himself three times before he came atop her ass. She felt the warmth drip down her cheeks as he rode out his orgasm, caught somewhere between panting and groaning in pleasure. When he had finished, and Hermione's ass was covered in his cum, he took a step back to admire his work before pulling her up off the desk, spinning her around, and capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. Hermione's knees trembled, partially from the sex, and partially because his mouth against hers was so full of emotion, like he was pouring his soul into her as their tongues collided. His hands found the sides of her face, and he slowed the kiss down into a mild jog before pulling away to whisper, "That is what make-up sex feels like."
Hermione's eyes fell closed as she laughed, turning her head into his palm. "Is it now?"
"What do you think?"
"I think…" She opened her eyes back up to gaze at his sultry stare. "I want to fight with you more often."
He smirked. "I'll remember that." His thumb pads brushed at the bottom of her eyes. "Have you been crying?"
Hermione's eyes widened, and her mouth fell open. "No." She shook her head. "No, not at all."
He looked at her skeptically but didn't push it (thankfully). Instead, he kissed her nose. "Did you like that?"
"Oh, yes." She smiled. "Do you really have to ask?"
He shrugged. "More of a formality. I'm confident you enjoyed your punishment."
"I really did." They both laughed, and Hermione wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his button-down shirt. Inhaling his cologne and listening to his heartbeat against his chest, Hermione felt safe. Tucked away in his arms, she'd never felt so at home. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" he scoffed. "What have you to be sorry for?"
"For lying. For hiding us."
"Oh." He laughed. "That." He buried his face in her curls and kissed the side of her head. "We'll just need to set a few things straight. We'll talk to Longbottom first thing in the morning."
"Will we?"
"Unless you'd like him to still stay under the impression that I'm an escort? I don't mind dicking around with him a bit more…"
She poked him in the side. "No. First thing tomorrow. -But there's one other thing I forgot to mention.- Ron invited Neville and me to a family event next month while under the impression that…"
"That you two were a thing."
"Yeah."
He gave an agitated sigh. "You said yes, didn't you?"
"Yes?"
He rubbed his hand down his face, almost comical. "Hermione Granger, what am I going to do with you?"
"Well," she replied, lifting her face up so that she could kiss under his jaw, "You could always punish me again."
He chuckled, closing his eyes. "I just might."
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Sex Ed