Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Mudblood Fever and Lingerie	By : Tnteacups Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 36612 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters within. I am not, nor will not be making any money from 'Mudblood Fever and Lingerie.'

Chapter List
- 25
- 26
- 27
A/N: sorry it took three months to get this up, I just haven't been that motivated recently.

~*LissaDream: I'm glad you're enjoying it, and hope my infrequent updates don't put you off of reading. :D I'll definitely be trying to focus more on this story, since we're getting close to the end, instead of the new ones I keep starting.

Cheichei87: There is definitely more. I'm not sure exactly how many more chapters after this one, but at least two, I think.
Furious

Hermione couldn’t quite keep the grin from her face, though she was surrounded by Harry, Ginny, Draco, and Gregory Goyle. Hermione had been absolutely stunned when the troll-like boy had wandered into the library and taken a seat next to Draco, wordlessly pulling out a bit of paper to fiddle with as the rest studied. She’d caught the confused look Draco had given his crony, and wondered why on earth the brute would be in the library with them if he had no reason to, other than that Draco was present. He was paying none of the Gryffindors any mind, and the paper was folding and tearing itself as he toyed with it, his watery eyes darting around as he tried to figure out what she recognized as one of Fred and George’s Paper Puzzles. They were supposed to be for children, but it seemed to be getting the best of the Slytherin lackey.
Hermione and Draco had joined her friends shortly after breakfast, Pleasantly shocked to find that the Room of Requirement had provided them with their meal, (the same fare as in the Great Hall, but with the added bonus of being comfortable in bed while they ate.) She had slept soundly, wrapped in Draco’s arms, her worry of being discovered completely overridden by her total exhaustion. She’d been pretty sure he’d fallen asleep first, but it was a near thing, since she was out like a light, too.
Neither Ginny nor Harry had said a word about their absence at breakfast, or her failure to return the night previous, and she felt a world of gratitude that they at least had a bit of tact. She felt, though, that Ginny had probably told Harry not to ask about it, since she also kept catching his curious glances between the two. She was glad he hadn’t looked under the table, or he’d see their feet connected at the ankles, only occasionally shifting when one appendage fell asleep.
“How do you spell ‘noticeable’? Does it keep the ‘e’, or lose it?” Harry asked, looking up at Hermione for confirmation, his quill poised to write whatever she said.
“It keeps the ‘e’. N-O-T-I-C-E-A-B-L-E.” Malfoy answered before she could, almost absent-mindedly, his eyes lifting from his book only after he’d spoken. Hermione smirked at the murderous look Harry shot him, clearly saying with his eyes ‘I didn’t ask you’.
“He’s right. It keeps the ‘e’.” Hermione agreed, wiping the smirk from her own face and trying to sound as impartial as possible.
“Thanks.” Harry replied, his voice ungrateful, his eyes still glaring daggers at Malfoy. Hermione rolled her eyes and ignored the way Draco glared back, leaving the boys to their silent pissing contest while she got on with her own essay. She really did care for Draco, and Harry was her best friend, but she was about ready to kick them both. She kept her face studiously facing downward, ignoring both boys, and the dark robes she could see swishing toward their table. Just what she needed, another person to make the unstable mix even more likely to explode.
“Father? What are you doing here?” Draco’s words were punctuated by his feet being pulled sharply from Hermione’s, and she snapped her head up, catching the guilt on Draco’s face before she looked upward to see the tall blond that loomed over their table.
“I came to have a word with you.” The Malfoy sire replied, his voice icy, his grey eyes sweeping the table with disdain. “Not you, Gregory.”
Both Draco and Goyle had made to stand, but Goyle fell back into his chair with a frown like a scolded child, saying nothing. Hermione wanted to ask what on earth he could have to discuss that was so important he interrupt his son’s study, but Draco was already circling the table, and her throat seemed to be stuck closed in the presence of her boyfriend’s father. His eyes lingered on hers for a moment longer, clearly filled with hostility, and then swept back to Harry, giving him an even dirtier look, before he grasped Draco’s shoulder and steered him away from the table, heading somewhere more private.
“Do you think he’ll be alright?” Hermione worried as soon as they disappeared around a shelf, half standing, as if to follow.
“Who cares?” Harry scoffed, but kept his eyes away from hers, unwilling to meet her chastising glare.
“He’ll be fine.” Ginny assured her friend, reaching across the table to pat Hermione’s hand. “He’ll probably lie about why he was sitting with us, say he was teasing Harry, and get himself out of trouble.”
“I don’t know… He’s been acting different since he started sleeping with you…” Goyle’s input was jolt to the table, and Hermione felt first her face heat at his words, and then her heart clench at the meaning.
“They’re not sleeping together, that’s just a rumor.” Harry snapped, glaring at Goyle. Hermione looked away from the table, but forced her voice to a normal tone.
“What do you mean he’s acting differently?” She aimed the question in Goyle’s direction, but couldn’t look at him directly, her cheeks bright red from his casual mention of her sex-life. Clearly Slytherins were much more nonchalant about their intimacies.
“I dunno. Just different. He let himself get detention, didn’t he?” Goyle snapped, crossing his arms petulantly. Hermione cracked a small smile at the thought. He really could have tried to get out of having any detention. Pansy probably would have taken his side no matter what garbage he said. And he’d taken the punishment, to get her out of deeper trouble, too.
“Hermione…”
She jerked around, her heart hammering in her chest at the voice that piped up from behind her. Ron hadn’t spoken to her in nearly a week, and he stood there, hands in his pockets, face redder than hers, eyes downcast, and feet shuffling.
“Can I have a word?” He said, his voice cracking slightly at the end, before he cleared his throat, and looked up to meet her eyes with beseeching blue orbs. First Draco’s father, and now Ron? Today was just filled with surprises.
“Umm… Sure.” She agreed, feeling her chest tighten at the realization that Lavender wasn’t latched to him. Had he slipped his leash? To talk to her? Despite her best efforts, that thought caused a zing of painful longing through her heart.
She left her things with Ginny and Harry and followed Ron, glancing back toward the direction that Draco and his father had gone, another tendril of worry creeping around her heart as she walked in the opposite direction, feeling almost as though she was abandoning him to the wrath of the cold-hearted man who’d pulled him away.
Ron led her into the hallway, and said nothing as he entered an abandoned classroom next to the library, casting a simple locking charm at the door to give them a bit of privacy. Hermione felt tension lace the air, nearly so thick she could taste it when she opened her mouth to speak.
“What do you want?” She asked, staring at Ron’s turned back as she leaned against the teacher’s desk, gripping the edge with her hands as she rested her bum against it.
“I wanted to talk to you.” He muttered, turning, but kept his eyes lowered. Hermione nearly scoffed.
“About what?” She snapped, feeling the strangest sense of vertigo, being alone with him after so long apart. She thought of Draco, how comfortable it’d been to just sleep in his arms, to eat breakfast, and chat, to work on homework together. She used to be that comfortable around Ron, but now, she could see the ghost of a blonde on his lap, his face scrunched awkwardly as he snogged the yappy girl. Her broken heart wasn’t healed, no matter how much she cared for Draco, and it still hurt being so close to Ron, yet feeling like he was unreachable.
“About us.”
“There is no us.” Hermione felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. After months of wishing to hear him say something about them being together, he was. She couldn’t believe it, even as he took the few steps toward her, his bright blue eyes locked on hers, his body suddenly right in her space, seeming to fill more of the air than he actually took up. He was taller than Malfoy, and she had to crane her head slightly to maintain eye-contact, but as he looked down, she realized just how close he was. She should push him away, she should tell him to keep a friendly distance, now she was seeing someone else. But her mouth seemed glued shut once more as he leaned in closer.
“C’mon Hermione, I know you’re pretending to see him, just to make me jealous.”
His face was barely an inch from hers, and she could feel her heart hammering in her chest with anticipation and guilt. She knew he was about to kiss her, knew she shouldn’t let him, knew that it was all she wanted. With his face so close, blue eyes staring into hers with such intensity, the memories of their last summer together were nearly tangible. She just wanted to feel the familiar press of his lips again. She felt frozen in place by the overpowering yearning, the insufferable regret for even wanting him, and as she stayed rooted to the spot, not backing down, Ron’s eyes closed, and he leaned forward that last inch.
His lips were warm, and gentle, and Hermione’s own eyes fluttered closed, trying to immerse herself in the feeling of the kiss. His hand was on her face, his head tilting, and his lips parting, and with a single second, the spell was broken. The kiss was no longer familiar, his tongue prodding past her lips, his body pressing her hips back into the edge of the desk, his hands holding her face in place as he plundered her mouth. It was more aggressive, while somehow seeming sloppier, and more practiced at the same time. She couldn’t help wondering if this was how he kissed Lavender, and found her hands pushing at his chest, trying to detach herself from him, and turning her head to the side, so she could speak.
“Ron, wait-” She managed, but his mouth was following hers, breaking apart for only a second, to reply, his hands moving away from her face, down to her hips.
“Sorry, I know you don’t like doing it while standing…” He muttered, lifting her easily onto the desk, and climbing over her, his mouth taking hers once again, his hands pushing her onto her back, and trailing across her blouse before she could even squeal in surprise.
“Ron, I-”
She was cut off by his tongue again, and felt him settling himself between her legs, one hand finding it’s way up her skirt, the other pushing her shirt up to reveal her stomach. Turning her head seemed useless, as his mouth stayed glued to hers, her hands pushing at his chest seemed only to be giving him the wrong idea, as he moved higher, rubbing his crotch into her stockings.
“Mmm!!!” Hermione squealed in her throat, trying to get his attention. She needed to stop this, now!
“Shh, someone will hear us!” His hand slid over her mouth, muffling the high-pitched sound, and she felt panic starting to rise in her, as his hand continued fighting with the waistband of her leggings. She wiggled uncomfortably, knowing that if he looked at her face, he’d see her fear, and stop. But his eyes weren’t on her face, he was staring at her breasts, her gold bra pressing into the white blouse, as she inadvertently pressed the mounds together, her defensively curled arms seeming to work against her as she grabbed at his hand, trying to pull it from her mouth.
“Gimme a second, I’m getting there.” He smirked at her breasts, his hand moving from her mouth, to join his other, in undoing his belt.
“Please, Ron, stop!” She said, pulling her shirt down, and pressing once again at his chest. He finally looked into her eyes, his hands pausing on his pants, his face completely confused.
“Stop? Why, are you… Ya’know?” He said with a grimace, nodding toward her privates. It was the only way he’d ever been able to refer to her monthly cycle, and she felt her eyes rolling in her head at his assumption.
“No, I’m not.” She bit out, irritated at his continuing lack of observational skills. He didn’t seem to realize she’d been on the brink of tears at all, and as soon as the words had left her mouth, he was back on her, his face split into a happy grin, his lips moving against her mouth as he carelessly shoved aside her worries.
“Alright then! It’s been so long, Hermione. I need this as much as you do.” He mumbled, ignoring her pushing hands, and turning head. She felt the words pierce right into her heart, realizing that he wasn’t interested in her. He was just horny, and thought she’d go for it, based on the summer.
“Ron!” She barked as well as she could around his wet kisses, realizing that he didn’t seem to notice her struggles, or displeasure at all. He was so wrapped up in what he thought she wanted, he wasn’t actually paying attention to her.
“Calm down, Hermione, there’s no rush!” He said, giving her an encouraging smile, still under the impression that she was urging him on. His hands were under her skirt again, his fingers slipping clumsily under the waistband of her tights, his eyes glazed with a determined hunger. Horror swept through her, and she cast around for the fastest way to stop him, before he got any farther.
“We slept together!” She shot off, hoping his hatred of Malfoy would trump his lust.
“I know, I was there, Hermione.” He said, smiling briefly, and frowning down at his fumbling fingers.
“No, I mean Malfoy!” she said, staring at his face as comprehension dawned. He looked confused again, but at least his hands had stopped. He didn’t seem to believe it, but there was a spark of doubt. She had to push harder. “We started months ago. Our relationship isn’t to make you jealous.”
He looked like he’d been hit over the head, his mouth hanging open slightly, but as his expression changed, she felt relief. She’d guessed right, his hatred of Malfoy was taking priority.
“You’re lying.” He didn’t sound sure, and was looking at her as though she’d betrayed him.
“I’m not. Get off of me.” She said, hoping he’d listen this time. She didn’t want to have to resort to hitting him, or calling for help. He was pushing away from her, about to slide off of the desk, when the door opened.
“Hermione, are you in-” The familiar voice was followed by a familiar face, and as the room froze, Hermione looked from Draco, standing in the doorway, to Ron, still kneeling over her in a very compromising position. She spoke, trying to explain the situation, at the same time Draco, and Ron both started speaking, making the room suddenly burst with their voices.
“It’s not what it looks like, Draco, I swear!”
“Get the hell off of her, Weasley.”
“What do you want? Can’t you see we’re busy?”
“Get off of her, last warning!”
“I didn’t want to- He wouldn’t listen-”
“Get out! You’re not wanted here, Ferret!”
Draco had drawn his wand, his eyes narrowed dangerously at Ron, a look of absolute fury on his face as Ron continued to yell at him, and Hermione’s words choked off, a lump constricting her throat. Ron slid from the desk, and pulled out his own wand, pointing it at Malfoy, still yelling at him, as Draco began shouting back. Hermione ignored their words, and jumped from the desk, righting her clothes, and staring between the two wizards worriedly, pulling her own wand.
“Just shut up!” Malfoy yelled across the room, the slightest flick of his wand the only indication of his spell before it hit Ron in the chest. Ron froze, his eyes wide as the body-bind took over his tall frame, his voice cutting off as he was paralyzed.
“Malfoy!” Hermione yelled, instantly worried about her ex-lover, and previous best friend. She pointed her own wand at the blond, in case he tried to cast any other spells at Ron.
“Did he hurt you, Hermione?” Malfoy asked, finally looking at her, his eyes surprised as he beheld her defensive stance.
“No, he didn’t.” She answered, hoping to dissuade Draco from hurting the redhead. Grey eyes pierced into hers, reading her expression, and he lowered his wand slowly, looking relieved.
“Good. I was worried… Nevermind.” He shook his head, but shot a glare at the frozen Weasley. Hermione let her own wand drop to her side, and moved to Draco’s side, keeping her voice low.
“He… got carried away. Thought I wanted to- but I didn’t. I had to tell him I’d slept with you to make him stop. But he did stop.” Hermione felt her face reddening. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for-”
“It’s okay.” Draco cut her off, his eyes looking at her with all the gentleness she didn’t feel she deserved.
“I let him kiss me, I’m sorry.” She admitted, feeling the guilt burning a hole through her chest. His expression morphed to confusion, and then hurt. “I’m so sorry.” Hermione didn’t bother making any excuses, watching as he looked from her face, to the paralyzed Weasley.
“Are you going to take him back?” He asked, his voice a deadpan as he stared at the redhead, his eyes slightly glazed.
“No. It was a mistake.” Hermione tried to answer, worried by the way his face had straightened to match his voice. He gave away nothing of his inner thoughts, and she felt a spike go right through her heart. She hadn’t even realized just how open he’d become around her until suddenly, his eyes were blank, and his face a mask.
“You’re not obligated to stay with me if you’d rather be with him.” He replied, his impassive grey eyes finding hers once more, staring into her own emotion-filled face as she answered.
“I don’t want to be with him. I don’t see you as some sort of consolation prize, Draco. I meant it when I said… That I’m falling for you.” Hermione forced the words out, though the last were a whisper, too soft for a motionless Ron to hear. Draco’s eyes narrowed a tiny bit with some indiscernible emotion, before smoothing back out, and flickering from Ron to her again. She felt worry surrounding her mind as he stared blankly at her for a moment, wondering suddenly what his father had said to him, what sort of thoughts he’d been turning over before he’d found his girlfriend underneath her ex. She steeled herself for the worst, knowing that after kissing Ron, she deserved nothing less than to be left if the proverbial ditch, and knowing that if Draco broke up with her, it would hurt worse than Ron’s betrayal ever had. Because it would be entirely her own fault.

Draco stared down at the brunette, the fear and guilt written clearly across her face, even as he kept his own a perfect mask of calmness. He’d managed to keep the mask in place throughout his father’s entire lecture, even with rage burning inside of him for the things his father hissed in the warded room. He’d learned of some plot, though no details had been offered, he’d learned that word of his new relationship had gotten back to his father. He’d learned that his father was still just as bigoted as ever, if not more so. And then, he’d learned that Hermione, the girl for which he’d concealed his true feelings from his father, the muggle-born that had changed his entire world, was alone with Ron Weasley, doing Merlin knew what. He’d found them as quickly as he could, the lie he’d told his father threatening to bring a world of bad karma back on him.
“It’s not serious, father. Just something to get under Pansy’s skin.” He’d said so flippantly, unable to stand up for the woman he loved in front of his father. Was this his comeuppance for lying? Was his heart to be broken as some cosmic revenge for being a coward?
He’d thought so, and he’d hexed Weasley, ready to face Hermione and hear that she was done with him. But she was saying she wasn’t, she was confessing her guilt, and clearly hoping for his forgiveness. Hermione was still claiming to love him, and he felt his heart squeeze painfully as he remembered his words to his father.
“I’ll end it if you like, father, but it’s a good bit of fun, really. Two girls nearly catfighting over me? And one so desperate for pureblood attention that she’s willing to overlook how much she hates me…”
“Hermione… I’m sorry.” He whispered, dropping his eyes to her lips, watching them press together as she swallowed to clear her throat, and moved to form words.
“Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for? I’m the one… who…” She trailed off, her mouth hanging open slightly, her brows creasing with worry as she looked up at him. “What did your father say to you, Draco?” She asked, her voice a worried whisper.
“Nothing I didn’t already know. He hates you, and doesn’t want me seeing you any longer.” Draco slid his wand into his pocket and reached for her hand, finally letting his mask fall to show the disquiet of his own thoughts.
“Are… Are you going to do what he wants?” Hermione asked, her eyes nervous, her fingers clutching his like he was a life raft.
“Not bloody likely.” Draco growled, feeling the anger at his father’s demands mix with a childish desire to disobey. In one swift movement he wrapped his free hand around Hermione’s waist and pulled her face to his, kissing her roughly in spite of everything his father had said, in direct defiance of his father’s order to end the farcical relationship, and with great glee that Weasley was forced to watch, unable to lift a finger, as the girl they both wanted nearly dissolved in his arms, her hands reaching up to grasp white-blonde hair, her lips parting easily under his, and her eyes fluttering closed as he held her body against his.
He knew it was just his imagination, but he fancied he could feel the hatred pouring from Weasley. He kept the kiss innocent enough, fighting back the urge to touch her more in front of her ex, just to prove a point, knowing she’d be angry with him as soon as she remembered their captive audience. He didn’t want to get himself hexed, too.
“Wait, wait…” Hermione pulled away quickly, her cheeks glaringly red as she glanced ashamedly at her ex-lover. “Not in front of Ron.”
“Alright.” Draco agreed easily with a nod, knowing that the point had already been made. The Weasel had seen for himself that Hermione had chosen him. He’d disregarded his father’s order to break things off with Hermione. He tried to keep the self-satisfaction from his smile as he laced his fingers with hers and pulled her toward the door.
“Aren’t you going to un-jinx him?” Hermione asked, pulling him to a stop before he could pull the heavy wooden portal open.
“Soon as we’re out the door.” Draco agreed, pulling his wand free again, and pulling the door open a crack. He checked the corridor, making sure his father wasn’t lurking about, and tugged Hermione through, pointing his wand back at Weasley for a moment before he snapped the door shut, the nonverbal spell already freeing the redhead from his invisible prison as Draco and Hermione headed back toward the library.

Hermione felt her cheeks blazing with self-conscious heat at the way she’d snogged Draco so openly in front of Ron. She’d totally forgotten he was there for a moment, and had latched onto Malfoy like a starving woman, so relieved had she been that he’d not cast her aside. She took deep, even breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. So much had happened in so short a time, her thoughts were a whirlwind. She tried to order them as she followed the blond back to their small study group.
She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to speak to Ron civilly again, and her heart gave a small twinge of pain at the thought. If he wanted to apologize, she’d be willing to hear him out, but she wasn’t sure he’d ever get over her being intimate with Malfoy, of all people. She may have just set the bridge of their friendship ablaze, and she could only hope that it would simply take time for him to come around. She’d snogged him, and admitted that to Draco, and still, it seemed like he wanted to be with her. She was filled with elation at his fidelity, but couldn’t shut down the guilt that lingered in her chest. He hadn’t actually said he’d forgiven her. Were they truly alright, or was he just overlooking her foul actions to defy his father?
They were still a few shelves away from Ginny, Harry, and Goyle, but she pulled him to a halt, and he turned to face her, his brow arched inquisitively.
“I- I really am sorry, Draco. I don’t know what I was thinking, it was just- He was just suddenly there, in my face, and- I know there’s no excuse…”
“I… think I understand…” Draco mused, looking down at her with a contemplative stare, his face holding no spite or anger. Only a trace of sorrow.
“Can you forgive me?” She asked hopefully, holding her breath as he gave her another raised eyebrow.
“Well, that depends…” His lips twitched in a bit of a smile, and Hermione wondered what on earth he could find amusing.
“On?”
“You said you kissed him, so…Was it just one kiss, and he got carried away?” He asked, his eyes focusing on her like lasers. Hermione fought the urge to flinch.
“Yes.”
“Swear on your Gryffindor pride it won’t happen again?” His lips quirked once more.
“I swear.” Hermione quickly agreed, knowing completely that she’d never want to kiss Ron again. Things would never be the same, even if her and Draco broke up, she didn’t think she’d be able to trust Ron properly.
“Then I forgive you.” His voice was low, sweet, and his smile playful.
“Are you sure?” Hermione asked, feeling a bit suspicious that he wasn’t more upset. She’d suspected that Malfoy might’ve hexed everything in sight if presented with the scene he’d walked in on, including her.
“Should I go snog Pansy to make us even?” Draco asked, his smile twisting into an evil grin.
“No!” Hermione snapped, glaring up at him. Just the thought was enough to turn her stomach.
“Good, then. Stop feeling guilty about it, and just don’t let it happen a second time.” He retorted. She grabbed his arm before he could turn around.
“Aren’t you angry?” She voiced her concern, watching his face for any sign of it.
“Furious.” He smiled angelically at her, and leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before continuing. “Just not with you.”
He pulled her to her friends’ table before she could ask anything else, and released her hand only as she stepped over the bench.
“I’ll see you later, there’s someone I need to see quickly.” He announced, ignoring the stares that Harry and Ginny gave. Goyle stood again, as if to follow Draco away from the table.
“You’re not going to pick a fight, are you?” Hermione popped back up to her own feet, brows knitting together.
“Much as I’d like to, no. Not this instant. Maybe later, though… Goyle, you can stay with Potter if you like, or join Crabbe doing whatever he’s up to. I’ll come find you when I’m through.”
“Sure.” Goyle shrugged, obviously less offended by the way Draco dismissed him than the way Lucius had. Hermione sat quietly, watching both boys vanish from the library as she wondered about the one she was dating. Had he given Goyle the pretense of a choice just to save his feelings? Had he just manipulated his friend into leaving both himself, and their study group alone? And the way he managed to hide his fury, she shook her head, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t come across Ron in the halls on his way to do… whatever. She also prayed that he wasn’t about to go tattling on Ron’s pushiness to Snape. The last thing any of them needed was more noses in their business. She pulled her essay toward her, dipped her quill in the inkpot, and tried to write, doing her best to let the worries fall to the back of her mind.

Draco walked briskly through the halls, veering away from Goyle the first chance he got, even though it had him going in the wrong direction. He kept his hands in the pockets of his trousers, where it was easier to hide the fists they’d become.
He wanted to hit something. Or someone. Between Weasley and his father, he was hard-pressed to leave Hermione’s side. But he’d made sure she was with her friends, made sure Crabbe wouldn’t stay to hear whatever she did or didn’t tell them, and now he had to do something else for her.
He knocked on the office door with sharp, purpose-filled raps, and waited barely a second before the reply came.
“Come in.”
He slid through the door, checking to make sure that the hall behind him was empty, and snapped it shut again.
“Mr. Malfoy. Is there something I can help you with?” Professor McGonagall asked, peering at him through her square spectacles, her face full of surprise at her unexpected visitor.
“Actually, I’d like to speak with the headmaster.” Malfoy said, keeping his back straight, and his calm mask in place.
“Whatever for? Surely Professor Snape could-”
“No, it’s… About my father. I’d really feel more comfortable speaking directly to Professor Dumbledore, if you don’t mind.” He put all the Malfoy chill he could into his voice, and did his best to peer down his nose at her, until she stood, and he had to look up to meet her gaze.
“I see. Wait here.” She ordered, marching from the room with her own determination. When the door shut, and Draco was alone, he allowed himself to sag slightly, sliding into one of the chairs before her desk, and closed his eyes. He’d actually done it. She’d gone to fetch Dumbledore, and there was no running away. He had to follow through...
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Mudblood Fever and Lingerie