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Denying the Obvious	By : saritat9 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 6393 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and I don't make any money with this. No copyright infrigment intended.

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Denying the Obvious

Chapter 4: Into the Fire

When Hermione awoke the next morning, she felt well rested and pretty much like her normal self again. She sat up and stretched deliciously, glancing at the clock...only to see she had overslept by three hours. Why had no one woken her up? Augusto was sure to be furious! He expected punctuality or putting in overtime. Come to think of it, it was really strange that he hadn't come to get her himself.

She sprung out of bed and rushed to the bathroom down the corridor. After relieving herself and washing her face and hands, she ran back to her room. There, she peeled off her shirt and threw on her work uniform, once again missing the purple pentagram.

Hermione hurried down the stairs simultaneously tying on her apron. She was astounded when Anne told her they did not need her at all that day.

"...And Augusto wants to see you at noon."

"What? Why!?"

"I don't know. That's all he said."

"Why won't he see me now, if he has to see me at all?"

"He has �business' with Violet."

"Oh," Hermione blushed.

Back in her room, Hermione wondered what was going on. First, the night off yesterday, and now this? This was highly irregular. Maybe Augusto was going to let her go. She hoped not! She had nowhere else to go, not if she didn't want Ron to find her. She didn't know what she would do if she lost this job.

= = =

It was almost a quarter after twelve when Augusto Gallo finally knocked on Hermione's door.

"Mr Gallo! What is going on? Why am I not wanted downstairs?"

"Miss Granger...Hermione. Relax. I do not want you to worry your pretty, little head about a thing. All you need to do is get ready for your appointment later tonight."

"My appointment? Wha-"

" ...and your room will require some, shall we say, changes. Nothing too extravagant. I'm sure the type you attract want it to look authentic enough. Nevertheless..."

Augusto began muttering to himself while waving his wand around in circles.

Hermione's eyes followed the movements in awe as her beige, cotton bedspread turned into a shade or two darker silken one, and the pillows became fuller, fluffier, more colourful. Next, her poster changed from a green pasture into an oil painting featuring a couple writhing in the midst of passion.

After a few more slight changes, Augusto seemed satisfied enough and tucked his wand under his belt.

"Mr Gallo. Augusto. What are you talking about? An appointment? My customers? What in the...surely you don't mean- -"

Augusto walked confidently towards Hermione, and to her horror, ripped her dark red work blouse open, exposing her bra-covered breasts. Hermione was too terrified to act as Augusto steered her in front of the mirror. It took awhile for Hermione's glazed eyes to focus on the purple pentagram.

"What's this?!" she exclaimed, surprised.

"Last night you took in an order from Ogden's. You signed a parchment."

"What was it?" Hermione asked, her voice hoarse and with a sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach.

"A contract. A binding, magical contract signing the next fifteen years of your life into my service to use as I see fit. Accept it. I mean no ill will; this is just business. Satisfy the customer, do what he says, do what I say, and you will be just fine."

"Sa-satisfy! What do you mean, satisfy?"

"You're a smart witch, Hermione. Stop asking inane questions and figure it out. Now, your first appointment is at eight. Be a good girl. He's an influential man. You cross him, and you cross me. I assure you, you do not want to do that. Rose and Kenya could always use a breather. There are always plenty of wizards who go for kink. And you have made many enemies. Make me proud, and I will take care of you."

With that, Augusto was out of the door.

Hermione sunk to the floor, dry heaving.

= = =

Pansy was still in Draco's bed as he woke up. In the proverbial, harsh light of the morning, last night seemed dumb and unnecessary. Fuck. He would never be rid of Pansy this way. Maybe he should just cease struggling and marry the slag.

No.

He threw her clothes at her and hissed for her to get up and leave. Pansy did not even bother opening her eyes. She just smiled and dug herself deeper under the covers. Draco sighed. Whatever.

He walked into the parlour where Nipsy had placed breakfast for him under a stasis spell. He helped himself to some coffee and unfolded the Daily Prophet. His mind was not on the paper, though. Instead, he thought of finally seeing Granger alone that night, after all these years, if Gallo had pulled it off. He was sure Gallo had succeeded.

Draco would not take Granger. No. First, he wanted Granger to want him back, out of her own free will. It was costly to wait, but he could afford it. The Malfoy fortunes were nearing infinite, considering he had made some investments on muggle enterprises after he had become the head of Malfoy family. He was more worried about the frustration it would cause him and his parts.

He would seduce her slowly over the course of days, maybe even weeks. He knew she would be upset over Gallo's betrayal. Draco was mad at Gallo too, but he reminded himself that she was just a silly muggle who was in essence beneath him, and he could well afford to pay for her as long as he was interested. And after his interest would wane, someone else would pay for her. Maybe this was all for the better - once he was done, he would be rid of her easily and she would be in no position to make any threats or ultimatums.

= = =

Hermione cried and heaved for many bitter hours. During those hours she cursed her utter, infernal stupidity, as well as Augusto, the entire wizarding world, and all the deities that had allowed this to happen to her. Finally, she found herself out of tears and strangely calm.

She told herself she would be as practical about this as she was about everything else. In less than two hours, some stranger was going to come and take her virginity no matter what she did or did not do. All she could do was yield. That's what she would do. It was far from ideal, but it could also be a lot worse. She could be up for �kink' like Rose and Kenya, who were always wrapped in bandages. And at least Gallo didn't suspect her to be a virgin. She was sure he would have auctioned her away like a prize cow if he knew that.

Hermione got up. She had to go shower away all the grime and the tears. Whomever the wizard was going to be, Hermione Granger would not allow her tears to be seen.

In reality, she was in shock. But at least she was finally able to function.

= = =

At eight o'clock sharp, there was a precise knock on the door. Hermione looked at herself in the mirror one more time as a virgin and opened the door, keeping her eyes at her feet.

"Good evening, Granger," said a familiar voice with as familiar sneer.

Hermione's head shot up.

"You!"

"Yes."
Draco Malfoy walked inside, taking his own time while checking Hermione out from top to bottom.

Hermione was seething. Malfoy. Draco Malfoy was the one to have a go at her tonight. To take her virginity. Not Ron, not Harry. Not anyone she cared about. Malfoy. The man she despised and who despised her back.

= = =

Draco stared at Hermione in silent appreciation. Hermione was wearing a plain grey skirt, a white blouse and socks and a grey cardigan. She didn't have any shoes on. The outfit she was wearing reminded him of Hogwarts. Oh, it may have taken the periwinkle dress at the Yule Ball for him to notice her as a girl for the first time, but he had to admit that in some odd way he preferred this look.
All in all, she looked like the girl next door, or like a swotty student missing her Gryffindor tie. She wore no make up for him, no extra effort in her hair...she simply looked clean and straightforward.

Not that he would bed her tonight. He would not even touch her.

"I can't believe this. I can't believe you, Malfoy. You'd really lower yourself to have �intimate relations' with a whore? A mudblood, no less?" Hermione oozed contempt.

Draco didn't reply. He had nothing to say to the allegation. He was dying to have a go at her, but she would be the first and as likely the last woman, he ever had to pay for.

"Don't call yourself that on my account. It does not matter to me. The war is over, after all."

"Your pureblooded girlfriend not enough for you?" Hermione taunted while backing slowly towards the wall.

"Pansy...is Pansy. She has nothing to do with this."

"Stop! Don't come any closer."

Draco prowled after her and pinned her against the wall, his strong hands squeezing her wrists uncomfortably.

"What are you doing?! Let me go!" she exclaimed in panic.

= = =

Their lips met in what was, in essence, a surprise to them both. After a mere second of disorientation and soft lips and a devious, probing tongue against hers, Hermione tried to close her mouth to his assault. Failing to do so, she saw no other alternative than to bite down on his tongue. Were she able to think as rationally and calm as she had hoped, she would have seen that if it were not Draco, now, it would be someone else, very soon. But Hermione was incapable of thinking rationally anymore. Draco let go of her immediately and spit out blood.

"You'll regret that, making me bleed a single drop!"

"I'm so scared!" Herrmione was panting heavily, but her words lacked the sneer intended and they sounded very literal even to her own ears.

"I would've let you be, you know." he muttered, closing in on her again. "No more unwanted attempts at �intimate relations'. But have it your way. You brought this on yourself."

The next thing she knew, she was thrown on the bed with Draco's full weight atop her, making it hard for her to breathe as he began yanking at her clothes. Her mind felt rigid, yet brittle. The only thought in her mind was �This is not supposed to happen. This is not supposed to happen to me. You were stupid. Stupid!' If she had not bitten him, he would have left her alone. He had said so.

What was worse, she could not objectively deny the possibility that maybe he was right and this really was her own fault. Just like leaving Ron. Just like signing the contract. She should have suspected Augusto capable of this. She should have realized that not all of his �girls' could possibly have begun their careers willingly. And most importantly, she should have realized that there would come a day when being the former Gryffindor know-it-all would make her an easy target for men like Draco Malfoy, even after the war. In conclusion, if she was this stupid, she must deserve this happening.

So, she ceased struggling.

Draco wasn't as pleased with this passive Hermione, but a sudden, almost irrational fit of anger had taken away his control over the situation. He could not make himself stop. This wasn't about sexual gratification. This was an ugly battle of wills that had been years in the making. He had had enough of Hermione's remarks and the air of supremacy that surrounded her. She was the mudblood, and he was her superior. He would bend her to his will. If this was what it took to bend her, he would do it.

It didn't take long to have Hermione nearly naked, only rags of what had been her clothing clinging to her here and there. In one final move, he rid her of her knickers and tossed them aside.

Hermione made no sound as he entered her none too gently, but not with the full anger he had been feeling since she had the nerve to bite him. Some shred of sanity and what must have been compassion was still inside of him as he started to slow himself down. She was motionless except for a small twitch of discomfort now and then when he hit bottom.

It was a strange, sickly act that held no pleasure for either of them. Still, he could not stop.

After it was over, Draco felt so sick with himself that he thought he might throw up on himself if he could not get away from her as fast and far away as possible. He got out of bed and dressed himself hastily, remembering the Malfoy code of decorum of outward appearances. He was sure he was failing in that area, as well as another his Father hadn't been terribly particular about. He knew he had done something that he could not take back even if he tried.
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Denying the Obvious