Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Squirm	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 28992 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and will not make a profit from this story.

Chapter List
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Sorry this chapter is extremely short. The next chapter will be longer, I promise, but this was necessary to continue. More dramione interaction next chap. Also, remember: in my stories, nothing is ever quite what it seems. :D
~A.
"Mister Malfoy, a Miss Hermione Granger is here to see you."
My eyes flitter up from my desk inside my comfy office of Malfoy Incorporated as I raise an injurious eyebrow. I've had one Hell of a week, I've five minutes left on company time, and there's a bottle of scotch calling my name back at the Manor, as well as a night of… questionable activity. I knew she would come here, eventually, to discuss patents and paperwork, but I didn't expect it would be so soon.
I'm torn. There's a part of me which wants to welcome the woman who's been on my mind for the last three weeks, but… there's a large, angrier part of me that wants to throw everything off my desk and scream at my secretary to get out. The itch is back, and I so desperately want to scratch it. Lately, my obligations to my image have postponed my inner demons, but I can't guarantee I'll be able to hold myself back much longer.
"Show her in."
She's as lovely as she was at the Ministry function, though today she wears something far too conservative for my tastes. The women I find myself buried inside of on the weekend are loose and oh-so-willing to please a Malfoy heir. No doubt, Hermione Granger would rather I recarve the word 'Mudblood' onto her arm before she would see herself defiled by my hands. Though I can't help but wonder what sounds she makes when she screams… is there a difference between the ones of pain and her pleasure-induced cries?
"Malfoy," she says crisply, strolling comfortably up to my desk before setting a thick envelope on top of it. "How are you this evening?" It's obvious she's trying for pleasantries, but I've never been one to pretend around her. Not even in our youth.
"Well, seeing as how I'm to leave in four minutes, and your presence here begs at least twenty -I'm sure you can deduce I'm less than pleased." I give a thick smirk and lean back in my chair.
"Charming, as always," she quips and takes a seat in the provided guest chair on the opposite side of my desk. "There are a few discrepancies I wish to discuss with you."
"Oh, goody…"
"For example," she waves her wand and releases the stack of paperwork from her envelope, "You've requested a substantial amount of money be transferred to this offshore account here, but you haven't listed a reason as to its use in the company."
Less than a month here, and she's already caught on to things my staff have overlooked for two years. Perhaps I shouldn't underestimate this one. "And?"
"And," she furrows her brows, "should you be audited, your company could face some serious fines if all of its money cannot be accounted for. All I need you to do is fill out this form here," she pushes a packet of papers two inches thick into my eyeline, "and then provide the correct account information on this form here." A light pink parchment floats in my face, and I wave it away irritably.
This offshore account has a reason for being buried beneath the muck. Should anyone know what I do with this extra money, they could deduce the obvious: it isn't for the company.
"Granger," I begin, cordial as best I can be, "Malfoy Incorporated hired you on for your legal advice on patents -not on our vault accounts."
"Yes, but I-"
"-No 'buts'. You'll do well to keep your nose out of business that isn't yours." I rise to stand, gather my coat, and smirk down toward her. "Although, do keep wearing those enticing blue pumps, would you? They do wonders for your posture." I watch as her eyes glare like daggers in my direction before I take my leave. When I'm to the door, I turn around, tug the door open, and add, "Oh, you honestly don't expect me to leave you in my office, do you?"
"You're impossible," she sighs, gathering up her things. She leaves the hideously pink paperwork, along with the thick packet, on my desk all the same. As she takes a place by my side, I feel my pulse begin to quicken. How interesting she should be able to procure such a response from me. Oh, dear… I fear I have taken that second look and found the offer most appealing.
"After you," I say, gesturing out to the hallway.
"Hmph." She moves to brush past me, but my feet get ahead of my brain, and I block her off, even though I've basically kicked her out of my office.
"Don't take it personally, Granger. I treat everyone who tries to butt into my business the same way. If I favored you, how do you think it would look?"
"Like a normal human being?" she counters. "If you'll excuse me, I'm late for drinks with Ron."
Smirking, I sidestep and allow her the comforts of leaving my office, and with it, my presence.
Fuck it all. She's under my skin already. This couldn't be a worse way to end a work day. As the door clicks shut behind me, I catch a glimpse of her stepping into the elevator, frustration written over every pore in her skin.
Maybe this day wasn't a complete waste, after all.
Another life drips through my fingers as crimson spills to the floor. Another life I've taken. I could pretend it doesn't bring me great joy to know the individual in my hands is filled with immense pain, but what's the point in lying when I'm in such a euphoric high?
As I lean my hand against the wall to steady my lightheadedness, I leave a bloody print behind. I've become foolish in my transgressions as of late, and it's all because of that prissy Granger mucking up my brain. Every time I take a life, now, it isn't enough. Because it isn't her beneath my grip. How is it I can want to fuck someone and kiss them and kill them all at once? It shouldn't make sense, but somehow it does to me. Maybe it's because she's left a fresh copy of that annoyingly pink parchment on my desk for the past month to replace the ones I throw away. She's entirely too stubborn, and it makes me want to break her. Not physically -not really. Just her soul. To teach her a lesson in who she's dealing with.
I leave the body on the table and make my way up the steps of the dungeons. I'll clean the mess up later. Right now, I need a hot shower and to find someone to take my mind off the fact I want someone I cannot have.
Feel free to leave your thoughts.
~A.
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