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
- 22
- 23
- 24
A special thank you to WayMay for being awesome and handling all of the cheese associated with this chapter. I'm going to focus on Sex Ed until its completion, occasionally updating HTTYA2 and Bond until this work is done (shouldn't bee too many more chapters. Probably looking at about 5-6 more? I think? I'm not good at giving an exact number. Just know, the Weasley event will be an event to remember!) Then HTTYA2 will be top priority, along with Empire. Bond has 2 more chapters, so I want to make them good. -Right now, I'm working on an original piece with waymay that we hope to get published.
~A.
But I'm not good with directions and I hide behind my mouth,
I'm a pro at imperfections and I'm best friends with my doubt,
And now that my mind's out, and now I hear it clear and loud,
I'm thinking, "Wow, I probably shoulda stayed inside my house."
I found my way,
Right time, wrong place,
As I pled my case.
You're the judge, oh no, set me free,
You're the judge, oh no, set me free,
I know my soul's freezing,
Hell's hot for good reason, so please
"The Judge" by Twenty One Pilots
Neville stared from one to the other, his face even and controlled.
"Neville?"
He began to tap his foot, hands folded in his lap.
"Neville, say something."
Surely, he heard wrong. Because, there was no way what he heard was correct.
"Do you think I should fetch Madam Pomfrey?"
Finally, he broke his silence. "You two are together?"
Hermione's face softened across the table from him, and she gave Malfoy's hand a firm squeeze. "Yes-"
"Obviously," Malfoy scoffed, stepping over her words with his own. "So, what say you, Longbottom? Are you going to go parading this information up and down the hallways, or what?"
Neville broke his concentration on their hands intertwining together to send the Potion's professor a seriously inquisitive expression. "Why would I do that?" It never dawned on him to throw around someone else's relationship as dirty laundry for the world to see.
"This is all my fault," said Hermione as a blush came across her cheeks. "I wanted to keep Draco and me a secret because of Ron's temper, but in doing so, I created a misunderstanding so farfetched it hardly seems real."
"Seemed real enough to me," Neville said quietly, rubbing the back of his head. "So Malfoy's not a prostitute?"
"Heaven's no!"
Malfoy smirked. "Disappointed?"
Hermione ribbed him in the side.
"But I saw you two. That night. At Hermione's door."
Her cheeks darkened even more. "That… well… erm… that was roleplay, Neville."
"Roleplay?" Neville gasped, eyes widening.
"Yes. Acting out sexual fantasies-"
"-I know what it means, Hermione." He threw his hand up, making a grimacing face. "I just don't understand why you'd want to roleplay with ferret-boy over here." He gestured to Malfoy.
"Call me ferret-boy again, Longbottom. See what happens." His eyes narrowed.
"-What Draco means to say is that we're all adults. Once he told me what sort of mess he'd made with you, I told him we were to immediately rectify this situation." She nodded once, as if to applaud herself for doing just that. "So you see, we're in a relationship. A healthy, consenting relationship."
Neville shot his eyes over to her. "With him?"
"Well, of course with him! Who else would I mean?"
Neville wasn't sure she wanted him to answer that question. Weeks passed with him believing Malfoy to be some sexually-driven harlot, only to find out he wasn't a call-boy, but a boyfriend to one of his most cherished friends. The world felt out of place, and Neville squared them both up, shoulders set. "So why tell me now?"
"Because you have every right to know," Hermione told him.
"What she means," said Malfoy, "Is that we need your help." He appeared agitated, as if what they were about to ask for was revolting. "As you know, Weasley isn't very keen on my existence, and I'm not very keen on his."
"I was aware of that, yeah. I'm not too keen on you either."
"Oh good, so we're all in agreement." Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Hermione's afraid Weasley will try to get me sacked if we come clean to him. If you think what I made you believe was terrible, it's nothing in comparison to what she did."
Neville looked curiously over to Hermione, doubting whatever she did could top Malfoy's prostitution scandal. "What'd you do?"
"I… I went to lunch with Ron to clear the air. Except it didn't clear. It got mucky, and awful, and I lied to him. -I told him that you and I were dating."
"Why would you do that?" Neville gasped.
"Because, Neville, I panicked! Ron likes you. He hates Draco. At first, I told him I was dating someone to keep him from trying to lock lips with me, but then he pestered me, wanting to know who. It was a split-second decision. And a bad one, I might add. Because… he invited us to dinner next month for Fleur's birthday."
"Us." Neville repeated. "As in…" He gestured between Hermione and himself. She nodded. Neville whistled. "Talk about a bed of lies, Hermione. You expect us to, what? Stroll into Molly and Arthur's home and make kissy faces at each other to save Malfoy's career?" He snorted a laugh. "No offence, but I don't give a rat's bum about his position here at Hogwarts. Why would McGonagall care if you two dated, anyways?"
"She wouldn't," Hermione answered, "But she would care if enough parents were concerned with Draco's Death Eater history. You and I both know he isn't like that, but they don't. And there's already been loads of letters sent in when Ron outed him in Hogsmeade."
"There have?" He looked over to Malfoy, who had taken a great interest in his cuticles all of a sudden. "That's not right." Even he had to attest, though he hated Malfoy with a passion, he was no Dark Wizard. "You're a git, but that's about it. What do they think will happen? That you'll hex the muggleborn students?"
Malfoy shrugged indignantly. "I told Hermione this wasn't necessary. I took this job knowing that not everyone found my past favorable. But she insists that I'm not to get sacked before the end of term. Believe me, we've had a few choice words over the matter, but you know Granger," his eyes flitted over to the witch as a smirk plagued his face, "She always wants to win the argument at whatever cost."
"You're not one to give up, either," Neville pointed out. "So what did she threaten you with?"
Malfoy grinned, flashing his eyes up to the Herbology professor. "You really want to know?"
Neville's stomach plummeted. "On second thought, I'd rather not."
"We need your help," Hermione reached across the table and patted Neville's hand, which had found its root atop of a book about Northern American wild grasses. "Please. It will only be the once. And after the school term ends, we'll settle everything out. Ron will have time to cool off, and Draco's job stays intact."
"What if I don't want my job intact, Hermione?" Malfoy snapped suddenly, startling the two Gryffindors. "This is ridiculous. We should just tell Weasley and get it over with."
"And what kind of example would that set to Liam and Lidia? If you get fired, Liam will think that he can't hold down a steady job if he dates Lidia."
"And what sort of example do we set if we lie?" he sneered, crossing his arms. "We're the ones that told them to come clean about their relationship, but we're to hide ours? Hypocritical, at best."
"We're coming clean to everyone but Ron," she pointed out.
"And his entire sodding family. Which, in turn, means that they mean something to you."
"Why do you care?" Neville asked, bringing the attention back to himself. "Does your family know about Hermione?"
The room was eerily silent.
"They don't, do they?"
Hermione's face turned crestfallen, but she batted away her pain as she replied, "I'm sure Draco has his reasons, Neville. Just like I have mine for asking you to help us. Will you?"
"Pretend to be your boyfriend?"
"Yes."
Neville wasn't convinced. "So I'm just supposed to what? Kiss on you and pretend that everything is fine between us? Like you didn't dump me to go out with bottle-haired Malfoy?"
"Two things," Malfoy cut in, sharply. "One. You kiss her, I'll shove that tie down the back of your throat, and two: my hair is natural and does not come from any bottle."
"I'm not to kiss her? How the Hell do you suggest we make it convincing?"
"I don't know, Longbottom, but I'm sure you'll figure it out."
"Fine. But you're going to owe me, Malfoy. More than just the favor you owe me now," he pointed out, picking up his quill and dipping it in some ink. He jotted something down on a spare bit of parchment and pushed it across the table to him. Malfoy reached for it, plucked it up, and furrowed his brows.
"What's this?"
"My price." He smiled. "For helping you."
"So you'll do it?" Hermione gasped, snatching the paper to read over his request.
"Only if Malfoy does that bit there," Neville commented, smirking. "Can you get him to?"
"He won't be happy about it, but yes. I'd say he can."
"Forget it," Malfoy snapped. "That's an outrageous amount of money to donate."
"So hold a charity event. Figure it out. You want my help? You donate that amount there to St. Mungo's for research into my parent's condition."
"You're requiring me to make sacrifices."
"Poor wittle Malfoy. Too frightened to talk to Mummy and Daddy?"
Malfoy turned his head over towards Hermione, who looked pleadingly at him. "Fine. You'll have your money but don't expect a thank you." He rose from his chair and stalked out of Neville's office, leaving the door wide open. Neville gave a sigh, stood, and walked across the room to shut it.
"That's the difference, I guess, between Gryffindors and Slytherins."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"
"Gryffindors would slam the door shut in a fit of anger. A Slytherin will leave a door wide open to make someone else shut it."
Hearing her laugh at his anecdote, Neville's resolve to stay angry at her cracked. No matter who Hermione dated, she was still Hermione. Surely she wouldn't have gone into this half-cocked. Still, the way she looked when Malfoy admitted to not telling his family gave him pause.
"Hermione, I don't mean to pry, but -why?"
"Why Draco?"
He nodded.
She sighed. "It's a complicated answer to give. He's not at all like the way you just saw him. When he's not on the defensive, he's actually funny. And smart. I appreciate his cleverness, and his tenderness."
"Malfoy? Tender?" Neville sat back down in his chair. "What, like a chicken wing?"
Again, he stoked a laugh from her. It made him feel accomplished. "He's kind, Neville. He just doesn't trust easily."
"Sounds like you're making an awful lot of excuses for him."
"I'm not. Really…"
"Devil's advocate here: have you asked yourself why he hasn't come clean to his parents about you?"
Hermione shrugged, picking up her satchel. "I assume it has something to do with the fact that I haven't come clean to Ron. I'm sure he'll open up, when the time is right." She sounded convinced, but her eyes told a different story. She threw the satchel strap over her shoulder and smiled warmly. "Thank you, Neville. Really. You're the best." She walked around the table, kissed him on the cheek, and left with a much happier kick to her stride.
Neville, on the other hand, was nowhere near alright. The kiss on his cheek tingled like a vibration spell, and he wished she hadn't done it at all. It just complicated the memories of her in scantily clad knickers bending over on a bed while tugging said knickers down to reveal…
"Shite." He put his face in his hands, rubbing at his eyes as if it would rid the memories away. He couldn't believe Hermione Granger would be smitten with someone like Malfoy. He didn't feel out for blood, the way Ron would, but he did feel hurt. Hurt that, aside from Malfoy's good looks and oodles of inheritance, he couldn't imagine what else the aristocrat had going for him. Aside from Hermione on his arm. On his bed. "Shite," he said again.
He thought back to Malfoy's favor, the one that didn't require him to spend money. Just a potion. Neville guessed this was as good a time as any to call on it. Confidence boosting potions were meticulously tricky, and Neville never had a steady hand in Potions. He'd just have to use the confidence potion for the Weasley get-together, and in that time, convince Hermione to see reason. Malfoy dating Hermione… it was worse than him being an escort. Because an escort implied no feelings involved. And, if Neville knew anything about Malfoy, it was that his first priority was himself, and everyone else was placed by the wayside.
That evening, while getting ready for bed, Hermione felt restless. Excitement blossomed in her chest that Neville agreed to help them, but a nagging ate away at her as well. One that reminded her that Draco, for all of his preaching, still had not told his parents about his relationship with her. She paced her bedroom back and forth, trying to come up with a reason, but none would surface. She was so desperate to find one that she hurried to dress, and just when she began to pry open the door to confront him in his dormitory, she found Draco standing at her doorway, hand poised to knock, mouth open as if to call her name.
"Draco?"
"Hermione," he sighed, tucking his hand behind his back in embarrassment. "Er… what I meant was… hello, Hermione."
"Hello." She frowned.
His eyes scanned over her hastily buttoned dress-robes. "Going somewhere?"
"Coming to find you, actually."
"Ah." He smirked, feigning confidence. "Well, here I am."
"Yes." She relaxed her face, but did not smile back. "Here you are."
"Look, I apologize for storming off this afternoon. I let my anger get the better of me, and I acted accordingly."
"You did act like a fool, I'll agree, but that's not why I wanted to talk to you."
He scratched under his chin, thoughtful. "I have a feeling I know why, then. Something that rhymes with Ucius and Arcissa?"
She couldn't help the giggle that found its way out her mouth. "Something like that."
He offered out his hand, hopeful. "Come with me."
Hermione eyed over his silver-blue orbs, his bobbing Adam's apple, his perfectly pressed robes, and finally, down to his hand. There were doubts swimming all around that head of hers, but she placed her hand in his, anyway. "Where are we going?"
"We're going to do something I should have done years ago."
Hermione shut the door behind her and allowed Draco to lead her down the staircase and towards the moving staircases in the center of Hogwarts. "Draco," she whispered, keeping an eye out for Filch or Peeves, "Where are we going?"
"It's a surprise," he smirked, winking at her. He pulled her on to one of the staircases just as it was about to ascend. Hermione gasped, not ready as one foot stood on the staircase and the other on the platform. Draco tugged her up, and she fell forward into his chest, much resembling the day they'd chatted here on these very steps. And just like that day, Hermione felt her body tense as she inhaled his cologne and listened to his heartbeat against his sternum. She pried her eyes up to his, blushing.
"Hi," she squeaked.
"Hello," he replied.
She pushed herself up to stand, feeling silly. "Are we going to talk about it?"
"About my parents?"
"Yes."
"What do you want to talk about?"
"You haven't told them."
"You haven't told Weasley."
"Is that the reason, then?" she asked, nearly desperate for answers.
He pried his eyes away from her, glancing up at the approaching balcony. "I just haven't found the right moment, Hermione. I don't talk to them much while the school year is in session. I suppose I'll be forced to, now, with Longbottom's request."
"Can't you just gather the money?"
"My mother would throw a fit if I donated that obscene amount without making it into some spectacle to put the Malfoys in a pleasing light. I'll be forced to attend some sort of charity function, no doubt. It makes me sick."
"It can't be all that bad," she offered, treading the subject carefully, "At least, then you'll get a chance to tell them about us."
He glanced down to her. "Yeah. Perhaps."
The staircase came to a halt, and he pulled her along, up to the fifth floor. Hermione looked this way and that, trying her best to figure it out before he told her where they were going. As they slipped down a corridor that held Boris the Bewildered, it dawned on her. She gasped, "The Prefects' Bathroom? Tell me you're not-"
"-I'm perfectly serious, Hermione Granger," he said, not taking his eyes off of the fourth door to the statue's left. He recited the password, "Horntail Toes," and tugged her in behind him. He made quick work of spelling the door shut, grinning ear-to-ear. "Hermione," he said to her, "How would you like to take my virginity?"
Draco adored the way her face lit to life with blush and embarrassment at his question. He'd planned this event for some time, ever since watching the irritated expression he procured from admitting to losing it to Pansy in this very room. After their melancholy victory with Longbottom today, this seemed like the perfect opportunity to see this through.
"Wh-What?" she whispered, glancing around at the pool-sized bath in the center of the room. "Draco, maybe you don't understand how virginity works."
He laughed, bringing her knuckles up to her lips to kiss them. "Oh, I'm very well aware. But it shouldn't have been Pansy. It should have been you."
Her entire face turned pink, right down to her ears. "I very much doubt my teenage self would agree with you."
"I don't think my teenage self would agree either. But aren't we lucky we're Professors, and can do whatever we please?" He released her and strolled over to the different taps, eyeing the selections. "I'm thinking lavender? With hints of rosemary?"
"Draco! This is abusing our status!"
"So?"
"So!" She chewed on her lip, thinking. "So…" She watched him unclasp his robes and set them on the floor, revealing him in only a set of boxer-briefs and grey-short sleeve shirt. "…we best not get caught."
"That's my girl." Draco slipped into the bath feet first and began to turn on several taps, mixing the aromas in the air to entice her. "Come on in, Granger. The water's warm."
"Aren't you afraid your heart might freeze it?" she teased, removing her robes as well. She was still dressed in her long pajama bottoms and camisole top. Had she been going to bed before he'd decided to show up at her door?
"Ha. Ha." He stuck out his tongue and reached his arms up to pull her in. Hermione expelled a breath, extended her arms, and let him pull her into the tub bridal style, dangling her toes and bum into the water, but not much else. Her arms draped around his neck, pulling their faces close to one another's. Draco smirked, reveling in the way she hadn't fought him on this like he planned. His shirt began to soak up the bubbles and water around his stomach, weighting it like a buoy. "Have to set you down now, Princess." Without warning, he tossed her into the tub.
Hermione screamed as she flew first into the air then the water, and when she came up for air, her curls plastered to her cheeks by soapy water, Draco pried off his shirt to distract her. And distract her, it did. Her eyes roamed over his chest and abdomen, raking in his lean muscles and pale physique. When he finished tossing the shirt onto the floor outside the pool, he pulled her close to him and brushed some of the curls away from her nose.
"You're a jerk," she said, though it was half-hearted and full of playfulness.
"I can't help it if I like you wet," he teased, curving his hands behind her ass to lift her up against him. Her legs, instinctively, wrapped around his hips, and Draco knew she could feel his half-formed erection pressed against her covered clit.
Her hands went up to his hair, soaping it. "Why do you call me Princess?"
"You don't like it?" he asked as he quirked an eyebrow.
"I never said that," her eyes met his, calm and steady like a current, "I just wondered."
"You had a nickname, back in school," Draco admitted, already feeling the flush to his cheeks. "A lot of us in Slytherin made bets on how long you'd stay a virgin. We called you Gryffindor's Golden Princess."
"Did you take a bet?"
"Merlin, no." He snorted. "You think I wanted any of my mates thinking I fantasized about when someone would pluck your delicate flower? No, I made fun of the ones who took the bets. Though, I had wondered…"
"Wondered?"
"It was Weasley, wasn't it? Who you lost it with?"
She averted her gaze to his collarbone, then. "Yes. -But not in Hogwarts. After."
Draco laughed, surprised that he didn't feel as jealous as he anticipated he would. Maybe it was the fact that he had her here, alone, where his sexual conquests began. "Was he any good?" he ribbed.
"Ron?" she grinned, bashful. "No, not really. It was his first time as well, and… he didn't last very long."
"How long is not very?"
Laughing quietly, she punched him in the shoulder. "Why? Hoping for a new virginity record?"
"Maybe." His fingers on her ass tightened, and she gasped, closing her eyes. "Answer the question, Princess. Unless you care to prove that you would have made a better Hufflepuff than Gryffindor."
Her eyes opened in slits, and she smiled at his challenge. "Somewhere around two minutes and forty five seconds."
Draco clucked his tongue. "Youch." Had she really timed it? He chuckled into his shoulder, and then slipped one hand up her back to rest just between her shoulder blades. His lips brushed against hers before he nibbled at the lower one. "I hope he, at least, got a bit better at making it last. It would be a shame if, for all these years, you were never fully satisfied."
She moved to kiss him, but he pulled his face back and just out of her reach, finding a lock of her hair down her back with his hand to give it a firm pull. She hissed a breath, but her mouth pulled into a satisfied grin. "I'd say I'm fully satisfied now, so what does it matter about the past?"
His cock jumped happily at her words, and he began to tug down the hem of her pajamas. "I only ask because I want to make sure you're always satisfied, Hermione." He walked her over to the edge of the bath and placed her on the edge, feet dangling in the water. Her pants already down over the curve of her hips, he tugged them all the way off. They made a slapping sound as they were discarded beside his shirt. "Underwear, too, love."
"Isn't this a bit weird?" she asked, though she obliged and let him slip her underwear down over her ankles before tossing them onto the tap. "Don't you have memories here? With Pansy?" She removed her shirt.
"Pansy?" He grinned devilishly. "Pansy who? All I see…" He tugged her forward and knelt between her legs, "is you." And just like that, his tongue was on her. The taste of the water mixed with her delicious flavor sent a shiver down Draco's spine, and he recalled the handful of woman who he'd bestowed this sort of treatment to. While all appreciative, none of them gasped and sighed the way that Hermione did, like his tongue against her nub was a Godsend. With each kiss and lick, he could hear her give a little bit more up to him, feeding his soul with hers. And Merlin, her pussy was so perfect. It was soft, and wet, and warm, and everything that a man imagined. He delighted in the way her body flushed in response to him and the way his body responded in return.
"Draco," she gasped as he applied a bit more pressure while sliding his tongue against her center, "ah, oh, oh, God… that's it, right there." His tongue pressed against her clit at the same time that he kissed it sensually, and she all but cried out in pleasure, one of her legs quaking next to his cheek, while the other found its way onto his shoulder. She laid back against the tile floor, curls spilling out around her face, eyes closed. Draco watched her chest rise and fall as she panted for breath, her breasts heaving up and down while the nipples pebbled. So beautiful, he thought idly, before focusing his attention to her clitoris, pushing her legs apart to heighten the sensation. He dug his nails into her thighs, and a hand slipped into his hair to give it a tug. "Mmgod…"
Smirking, he whispered between licks, "It should have been us, back then. Here. Sharing this moment." One of his hands trailed up her stomach and play with a nipple between the pads of his fingers, while his tongue stroked her. "Say it, Hermione. Say it should have been me."
"It.. ah! It should have been you. Always you."
"Always me. Yes…" He gave her clit one last kiss before licking a path up to her belly button, resting his chin on her stomach. "Do you want to come back into this bath and show me how it should have been?"
Hermione's head shot up, and she met his heated smirk with one of her own. "Oh. Yes, please."
She hopped back into the tub, scooting back against the pool wall as Draco dove in to capture her lips in a possessive kiss. She tasted sweet, like candy canes, most likely from the toothpaste she used before bedtime. It didn't take Draco long, between the kissing, to free his cock from the confines of his boxers, and with one confirming glance of approval from her, he shoved into her, hard. Hermione gasped, burying her face into his shoulder as he filled her all the way to the base, stretching her sensitive muscles. "Mmm… I love how tight you are." He kissed against her neck, withdrawing himself to the hilt to slam back into her again. "And warm." He repeated the process once more. "That pussy is perfect, Hermione. You're perfect." His fingers slipped around her pelvis, claiming his as they held her in place for him to pound mercilessly into her. And even though his thrusts were rough, his kisses were tender as he left them along her neck, her cheek, her shoulder. Each time his cock nestled inside of her, he felt his stomach come undone, as if the world shifted. There was in these moments with her he'd never experienced with any of his other 'lovers' -because, in truth, Draco Malfoy had never been in love before.
There were times in which he thought he might have been, but when push came to shove, he would always take his feelings into account first and foremost, selfishly giving in to his wants. And by what he heard, that wasn't love at all.
But with Hermione, all he wanted was her happiness. He hated the way her face had fallen at the mention of his parents. It was the reason why he'd needed to escape the confines of Longbottom's office: so that he didn't have to face the fact that he messed up in a big way. Once he stowed himself away in his room, he regretted his actions immediately -something he just didn't do. He'd been on the cusp of feeling the dreaded L word for some time now, but seeing her so disappointed sealed his fate. He was in love with Hermione Granger, and he didn't reckon he would ever be the same again.
The water slapped against the edge of the pool as Hermione began to meet his thrusts with the roll of her hips, and with their weight supported in the water, she was able to slide up and down his cock with ease, teasing him to the tip before sheathing him once again in her warmth.
"Fuck," Draco sighed, digging his fingers into her hip bones. "You're… so good at this…"
"You're not too bad yourself," she giggled into his ear, making him quirk his head up to meet her lustful gaze. She rested her arms on the pool's edge and rolled her hips, once again stirring a string of obscenities from his lips. "Enjoying yourself, Draco?"
He laughed airily, "Nah. Not a bit." Carefully, he pulled her back into the water, still pressed deep within her, and laid her back into the water. She floated there, arms spread out, eyes closed, hair floating around like a lovely halo of brunette. "You're gorgeous, Hermione. The most beautiful witch I've ever seen."
Her eyes came open, and she curled up into his arms, draping her arms around his neck to press her lips to his. And there she rode him in the bath, using his shoulders as leverage to bring his cock to the tip before pushing him back inside of her again. When Draco had lost his virginity all those years ago, it had been sloppy, his back pressed up against the concrete pool edge while Pansy attempted a terrible display of what Hermione was doing so incredibly. He remembered being grateful for the sex, but wishing it would end so that the pain in his back would cease. With Hermione, he hoped he could get lost in this bath with her for eternity. Maybe, one day, he could furnish a home of his own that would hold a bath just like this, and they could make love in it at least three times a week.
"Her..mione…" he murmured between an exceptionally pleasing grinding of her hips, "I love…" shit, what was he doing? "-the way you do that," he added quickly, feeling the humiliation crack over his head like an egg. How could he allow himself to slip up like that? Knowing he was in love was one thing. Admitting it out loud, when he had never said the words that way before… well, that was something quite different. Besides, it wasn't as if she felt the same. Relationships were fun. Easy. Love was messy and destructive. If he told her, it would most certainly cause a rift between them. He couldn't afford that. Not when he was sure, if he could just hold out long enough, one day, she would feel it, too.
She gave a quiet gasp as he hit a new angle within her, and her head fell back. "God, Draco. I…" Their eyes connected, and she brushed her nose against his. "How is it? Your born again first time?"
He kissed her, gently, before answering. "Everything. It's everything." And there they stayed for quite some time, rocking against each other until they came undone. Hermione muttered something about having to scourgify the pool before they left, and Draco made some quip about how he imagined the Prefects had probably done much worse, and they laughed as they climbed out of the tub. Hermione laid across his chest, still panting heavily, when she leaned over him and said, "You'll talk to your family, won't you? In time?"
The hope glistening in her eyes gave him purpose, and, not wanting to let her down, he stroked her cheek and nodded. "Yeah, Hermione. Whatever you want."
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Sex Ed