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Mirrored Desires	By : kstargal Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 7194 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with JK Rowling or the Harry Potter world and make no money from this - only the ridiculous story-line is mine!

Chapter List
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Holding her hands up in surrender, Hermione half turned to Draco. She ignored the small waggle of the gun; which proved a little more difficult than she thought. The weapon was shiny from the rain and looked menacing – as it was pointed directly towards her chest. “Just perfect, Thomas - caught in the first three minutes of being in the damn place. What a stellar plan, you dolt.”

Draco looked over his shoulder in surprise at her; then his grey eyes narrowed through the curtain of wet hair hanging over his face. Hermione took in a small sharp breath. “Well thanks for blowing my cover, Tiffany; freaking novice. Never work with women.” He directed the comment to the two guards who were watching them closely. “Hey, what do you mean my plan – you’re the one who bloody thought climbing up here would be ‘perfect’.” He mimicked the last word.

“I do not sound like that.” She cried out in indignation. The two men glanced at each other as Hermione began again. “Top operative my arse – you’re lucky I came along to carry you. Never bring a pig-headed know-it-all man either.”

“Are you serious?” His voice rose with each word. As he took a menacing step towards her, the two men looked at the other in complete surprise. It was the moment Hermione needed.

Jumping forward, she kicked out her foot smacking it into the wrist of the guard who held the gun. The weapon fell into the mud with a wet splat, thankfully it didn’t go off. Hermione liked her toes exactly the way they were – even the second one which was a smidge longer than her big toe. Shaking her thoughts back into the now – she punched her fist into his face with a crunch, hitting his jaw hard enough it shook up her arm. At the same time she noticed Draco come alive next to her, hurtling himself at the other sentry who was trying to desperately escape. No doubt to find backup. Hermione had to wonder why they didn’t use their radios to call for help.

She only took her sight off the man for a second; of course it was the very second he managed to get himself together and stand up straight – a red splotch blossoming across his jaw. Hermione didn’t even get a second to admire her handy-work as a fist came swinging towards her stomach. She managed at the last second to twist, deflecting a hit that would have dropped her to the ground in pain, to one which grazed her side and made her gasp in a deep breath instead.

“You dick – I can’t believe you’d hit a girl.” Hermione slammed her palm up into the man’s chin; she heard his muffled scream inside his mouth as blood started to pool from the corner of his lip dribbling down. He’d bitten his tongue. Whether it was still attached or not she didn’t care, she had an opening and she was going to take it.

Standing in mud which was slowly getting thicker she kicked up; trying to hit his head – her boot sucked into the ground and she couldn’t lift it quickly enough. He was faster than Hermione first thought, and took control of the situation in a moment. She knew then, stupidly – she’d left herself wide open. She could have unsheathed her sabre, but she never used it unless the situation was dire – cutting somebody was never fun or an option usually; especially against someone she could usually beat by hand. The man made a fast beeline for her; tackling her low and pushing her off-balance; the whole time swearing at her in a thick accent. Hermione fell back into the mud; a mad bloodied man astride her thighs; trying to remember what the Russian word for whore was. He smiled down at her; thinking he had the upper hand. Hermione just grinned back in response – his smile faltered for a second.

“Never straddle a strong woman, you idiot. Not unless you are sitting on her chest.” The man quirked an eyebrow at her, she didn’t think he really understood what she was saying. “I’ll demonstrate.”

With all her might she bucked once making him slip a little further down her body and thrust her leg up at the same time – slamming hard enough into his balls to make even her eyes water – he fell to the side holding himself. As she twisted up to her knees she thumped him on the temple with her elbow. He slumped; finally knocked out. She didn’t pity how sore he would be when he finally awoke.

As she stumbled to her feet; Hermione began to wipe down her body using the torrential downpour like a shower; the mud was being a bitch and stuck to her like glue. Then she heard a chuckle. Spinning around, Hermione saw the other guard hog-tied and unconscious on the ground; Draco resting his boot cockily on the man’s shoulder.

Malfoy was completely clean. Not a speck of mud appeared anywhere she could see – just water running down his firm, not firm – black body suit. Meanwhile she stood there looking like an advert for a new-age full-bodied mud mask package. Why the hell did she have to do it the hard way? And for Merlin’s sake, why in-front of damn Malfoy? Life was certainly laughing it up at her expense the last few days. She pushed a wet tendril of hair behind her ear and glowered at the wet git – completely blaming him for everything which was wrong in her world.

“You just smeared mud across your cheek.” He supplied helpfully.

She almost growled in response, but realised that would make her sound like an animal instead of a high ranking operative. So she flipped him the bird instead and wiped her cheek on the only part of her suit which wasn’t muddied – the inside of her wrist.

“I have to admit, Granger; you have an unorthodox way of fighting, but I guess it worked in the end.” His smirk made her scowl in contempt. As did his appraisal of her fighting skill – she was in ankle deep mud for pity’s sake, what did he expect - aerial acrobatics? “Although, I have to admit it was quick thinking.”

“What was?” She asked, not able to keep all the acid from her words. There was nothing more in the world she hated than back-handed compliments. Things like, ‘I like that sweater – it makes your hair appear less frizzy.” Her scowl deepened even more.

“Pretending to have a fight with each other, you know - as a distraction.” He frowned, clearly thinking it was obvious. It was, but she was feeling decidedly narky.

“Who the hell was pretending?” She spat, and retightened the rope around her waist as it had come loose during her ‘unorthodox’ fight. Idiot, she’d had almost enough of Draco’s comments.

Draco looked at her a moment then his usual slitted glare made an appearance as he picked up the arms of his guard and pulled him out of sight behind the small hut. Hermione pocketed the guard’s radio first then began to pull. She didn’t want to admit her man was almost too heavy as she struggled dragging him through the thick mud. But Draco didn’t offer to help and she sure as hell wasn’t going to ask. He was rude and unchivalrous, she decided; trying not to think she deserved his scorn.

Once they had the men tethered together they quickly slipped up to the roof of the small building. Hermione tried to reach for her magic; there was nothing to hold onto, not even for a moment. Even though the compound was not built in a dead zone, the magic fluctuations were far and few between – it had been over 24 hours since she’d felt the welcoming warmth of magic. She wondered whether Draco felt a little pang of loss from it too. She hoped at some point in the near future a wave would hit, if only so it would be easier to locate the vial. She knew whoever headed up WAM chose this place because magic hardly ever manifested. She had to agree though; it was the perfect location for this kind of operation – although it made her life a living hell; she glanced at Draco again and sighed deeply.

Hermione unwound the rope from her middle and attached a small hook on the end. She looked up to the top of the wall and started to work out exactly where she should throw. The rain made it almost impossible to find a place.

“Need a man to do the job, Granger?” Draco whispered too close for comfort. She jumped back a little and glared at him.

“Stand back, I wouldn’t want to scar that pretty face of yours with my hook.” She replied tartly.

As she started to spin the rope faster, he leant over once more. “So you admit I’m pretty, well that’s an interesting turn of events.”

She almost faltered, but managed to hold onto her frown. Hells she would have the best frown muscles in the world if she had to work with Draco much longer. She’d almost forgotten how to smile. Throwing the rope and hook into the air – she watched in satisfaction as it hit the spot. She also heard Draco’s snort of approval – it made her feel a little superior – even if it wasn’t the case.

.

Grabbing the rope and tugging it quickly to make sure it was secured; Hermione gave a quick look around – the heavy rain still making it almost impossible to see more than fifteen feet. No movement could be discerned in the short line of her sight; so she climbed. When she reached the lip of the roof she gradually raised her head over the edge; seeing no-one. The guards were obviously not paid enough to stand in the pouring rain on a rooftop – then she saw a small red light on the far-east corner. Cameras – great.

Hermione waited until she saw the small box swivel to the side and almost jumped up to run behind the large air-vent. But for some reason a sixth sense told her to look up instead. Around three metres away from her position a rod stemmed from the roof; a camera rotating slowly on it. Hermione had no inkling why she happened to look up at that particular moment – though she was infinitely glad she did. One of the gods must have been looking out for her; else they would have been spotted in a nano-second. She motioned down at Draco to slow up when he reached the top. She hoped he understood her hand signals – looking up into rain on the side of a large building probably didn’t inspire much hope that he’d seen her.

She hung on the precipice for a good six minutes scrutinising the movement of the two cameras and finally saw an opportunity she could use. Every minute and a half for seven seconds they both looked away from her position; she’d have that long to jump up over the lip and run for the air vent. There would be no time left to pull up the rope and grab the anchor – she swore silently at having to let go of valuable equipment; equipment they would surely need. Hoping wildly there would be no cameras on the other side of the vent; she prepared herself to run.

Watching closely, Hermione jumped into action and sprinted for all she was worth sliding into position behind the air vent. Looking around quickly for a camera and seeing nothing; she breathed a sigh of relief and looked back to where Draco’s blonde head slowly appeared. Having no idea if there were voice recorders up here, Hermione didn’t yell out to him. Instead, she held up a hand and mimicked a countdown. He saw and nodded his head in understanding after spying both cameras easily.

As she continued to countdown in her mind; she saw Draco moving around like he had an itch in the middle of his back he couldn’t quite reach. She couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was wrong with him. As she started motioning the last five seconds; she watched him place his hand directly around the hook. Frowning, she let her last finger drop then lowered her arm like a grid girl with a flag. Like a professional athlete Draco jumped onto the roof, pulling the anchor with him and flew like the wind to her side. The bastard didn’t even look out of breath. In his hand he held the hook and bundled in a loose circle was the rope – he’d managed to salvage both. So that’s what he was doing; looping the rope up as he waited. Hermione looked at him with a new found respect; one which she would never voice.

As she continued to fight her admiration of her fellow operative, she spied a movement from the corner of her eye. Grabbing Malfoy’s head she pulled him close to whisper in his ear. “There’s somebody up here on the far side – about three hundred meters away – we need to move now while the heavy rain can still mute our noise. We haven’t been seen yet.”

He nodded; making his cheek brush against hers. She felt a spark hit her stomach and her gaze captured his for a second. She had no idea what he saw on her face; but the look of surprise he showed on his didn’t bode well. Masking her expression with annoyance, she ripped the grill from the vent as quietly as possible. Using the hook she clasped it onto the lip of the metal and let the rope hang down inside of the tunnel. Draco was keeping watch, all whilst motioning for her to hurry up. Next time he could bloody do it as quickly and as quietly as he could – it wasn’t as easy as it looked. Metal had the tendency to clang.

Climbing in quietly, Hermione shimmied a good twelve feet down; hanging precariously above nothing. She couldn’t see the bottom of the shaft – it was too dark and Draco had the flashlight; all she could tell was the shafts were very large; thank Merlin. She activated her cuff for a small amount of light – but it was green and made the area look eerie – and she still couldn’t see far away enough. A shadow further down might indicate a curve – but she couldn’t be certain.

While Hermione tried looking down, she felt the rope tighten considerably as Draco climbed in above her; hearing a small snick as he replaced the grill as best he could. The edge of the hook would stick out a little, but unless you were specifically looking for it – it should remain un-noticed.

As the rope continued to get tauter she moved down a little to give Draco some room. Then she felt her grip slip suddenly. The wet rope combined with her wet shoes made it almost impossible to get a firm grip. It felt like somebody had greased up the rope – then she realised that was pretty much what had happened. They oiled all their ropes after a mission to ensure strength and resilience, but the downpour had obviously found a small patch which hadn’t completely been cleaned off. She tried remembering whose rope it was – then realised it was hers, so she couldn’t blame Draco for the lapse in safety.

“You right there, Granger?” Draco’s voice echoed quietly in the small space.

“Yeah – but we’d best move as my grip isn’t the best – and I have no idea how long this rope will hold us both.” She replied and stifled a small yelp as she slipped another few inches.

“Don’t move yet, somebody’s coming.” His voice was so quiet she almost didn’t hear.

Holding on with all her might; she willed the rope to dry. It wasn’t happening. Then she heard a cough – clear as day; right by the vent’s opening. Did somebody see them? Did they trip some kind of an alarm? After what felt like an hour she heard another cough, but from further away; they’d moved on; and she let out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. It was as she relaxed, her grip completely deteriorated and with a small cry she fell into the darkness below.

Draco had one sick second to watch as Granger’s body fell into the shaft. He heard a few thumps echo up the tunnel, but not her voice. With a horrible suspicion crawling up on him, he knew she wasn’t conscious. Taking in a deep breath he quickly scrambled down the rope as carefully as he could – when he reached where Granger was holding he almost slipped himself – it felt like the rope was slick with oil; no wonder she couldn’t hold on. Using his skills as a rock climber he placed his feet on the wall for an anchor and kept going down as quickly as he could.

He couldn’t help the thoughts running through his mind. Was she hurt? Had she broken anything? Why hadn’t he gotten into the shaft first? Was she even alive? He’d not heard a peep from below. For somebody he adamantly did not like, he sure was wasting energy worrying about her Draco thought wryly. Even more concerning was the fact she was slowly creeping under his skin – he no longer hated her – wasn’t sure if he ever had. Pushing aside all thoughts of this weird and unwelcome realisation; he loudly admitted it was all because he wanted to bed her – and if she was hurt – this could not happen. He also pushed away the fact he was more concerned over her than their impending mission. Re-thinking it for a moment he knew the mission was much more important than just one witch. He felt something uncomfortable sit in his chest at the thought. Okay; she was his partner in this – of course he was allowed a small amount of concern. He felt marginally better.

Reaching a small curve in the tunnel, Draco saw with dismay it didn’t turn into a corner – instead it slanted off creating a small slide. As his feet hit the sloped ground he switched on his torch; regretting it almost immediately – a large red splotch was slowly dribbling down the wall. Blood.

He spun around shining his torch further down the tunnel – he could just see the end where it tilted to the left; and there was something slumped half around the next bend. “Hermione.” He breathed as he attached the torch to a strap on his shoulder and let go of the rope, sliding down on his backside as quickly as possible.

As he reached her; Draco immediately ran his hands down her spine; checking for a break or overt swelling. Letting out a sigh of relief he found nothing, only then did he straighten her body into a more comfortable position. She was completely knocked out. A large gash ran from her hairline to her eyebrow – it didn’t look deep, but the bleeding still hadn’t stopped. He lifted his black-ops shirt up and ripped a small amount of the tank-top he was wearing underneath off. Pressing it softly against her cut he used his other hand to check her arms and legs – they also seemed free of breaks.

He tried shaking her awake – but nothing. Draco frowned down and tried lightly tapping her face – still no response; though she was breathing deep and regularly which was a good sign. He needed to get them out of the curved tunnel and onto something flat. He knew they couldn’t do anything until she woke up – and they also couldn’t escape the air vent either. He made sure Hermione was secure and ventured further into the vent, thankful it was such an old compound and the vents were extremely big and wide. It took him fifteen minutes but he found a levelled out area where the tunnel thickened out to almost five foot up and six feet across; it would be perfect.

Hermione still hadn’t moved when he returned and he began to feel a niggle of doubt run up his spine at the thought she may actually be seriously injured. He saw an egg beginning to form on her forehead and hoped there was no damage on the inside that he couldn’t see. Carefully Draco managed to get her back to the area he’d found earlier and propped her head on his pack; elevating it slightly. She looked merely asleep; he frowned when he realised he was watching her intently. He had no idea Hermione had a small smattering of faint freckles across her nose. He looked at her lips again and was transported back to their kiss, he swore out loud before he let his mind wander too much. Why the hell was he thinking of that?

“Bloody Hell, this mission would be running much more smoothly if I hadn’t been saddled with you, Granger.” He grumbled, angry for some reason. “Louis is an idiot and has no idea on how to run COT, if all he could give me was one witch who can’t even stay conscious long enough to help out.”

She didn’t stir under his angry taunts, it unnerved him to say the least – she always had a cutting retort, a smartarse reply. It felt wrong to hurtle abuse when she couldn’t retaliate. Still angry he ran a hand through his hair and snarled down at her. “Wake up and fight you stupid woman.”

Nothing. He saw a small shiver run through her body and realised exactly how chilly the air was in here; made even worse by their wet clothing and now their lack of movement. Swearing, he leant up against the wall pulling Granger almost onto his lap. He made sure her head was comfortable on his right thigh first, then tightened his legs either side of her to create warmth. He refused to hug her properly; getting too close for some reason made his chest feel tight and funny.

As he tried not to decipher what that could mean; Granger shifted slightly. He felt a rush of relief until she snuggled down a little further; her face almost nudging his cock. Why did he not think of this before? He looked down at her; face almost in his lap and felt a tug of arousal. Hell, who was he kidding it was more of a tug. When had this bloody know-it-all witch had time to confuse every thought he had in his head about her. It must be magic he realised as he got comfy waiting for the silly bint to wake up. He didn’t even realise when he started to run his fingers through her hair.

Hermione felt like she was swimming through a dense fog; she had no idea which way was up or how she managed to get here in the first place. The only thing which kept her from panicking was a small persistent tender sensation on her head. Whatever it was gave her a measure of comfort and she knew she wasn’t alone.

As she tried to piece things together, the sensation moved from her temples down to her shoulders. The feeling started there then made its way to her fingertips then dragged their way back up to her shoulders; she shivered; suddenly experiencing an array of senses.

She could smell wet, which sounded strange, but she smelt it all the same – mud, dirt and a small measure of sweat was in there too. Her head throbbed, but as the strange persistent movements continued she realised not only was her head beginning to throb, whatever was happening to her also had her baser instincts on high alert. Hermione was astounded to realise she was more than a little turned on – but by what?

Inhaling more, she smelt the distinctive aroma of male, body heat and a strange sort of cologne which nibbled at the corners of her memory. It smelt good – almost too good. As she let herself get immersed by the sensations and smells around her – she settled back into the warmth which surrounded her. She was dreaming – that much she knew. She had to be. Real life didn’t feel this floaty and secure. She was in a place where nothing could harm her and she relaxed further, letting a small moan of content out.

Whatever she was leaning up against tensed under her when she made the small sound. Ignoring it for a moment she let her own hands do some discovering. Material strong and coarse brushed against her hands as she let them trail upwards. She felt a knee and knew she was leaning on somebody – that would explain the movements. As her hands glided over a hip she felt a jolt go through the person and suddenly another sensation joined all the others. Something was hardening under her cheek.

Eyes finally opening in shock, Hermione glanced up and looked straight into almost black-grey eyes. Draco was watching her intently, almost as if he were waiting for her next move. Hermione sat up a little, her head feeling slightly fuzzy. Her heart thumped in her chest as they continued to lock eyes. Without meaning to her eyes flicked towards his pants and she heard a small intake of breath.

Without conscious thought she let her hand run from his hip, until it softly pushed against his erection. He groaned and let his head fall back against the vent wall. Smiling like the cat that got the cream – Hermione gently squeezed and felt his length; it was impressive. Although why she thought it would be anything less; she didn’t know – everything Malfoy did was big and sinfully wicked. Before she could really think about her next move she swiftly unzipped his pants and snaked her hand inside.

He wasn’t wearing any underwear – this got Hermione wetter than she could remember. Merlin; he was cocky and for some reason this turned her on like nothing else ever had. His silky prick was warm and hard, and she let her hand run up then down slowly; thumb pressing into the vein which ran up his length. She heard him swear as he clenched his fist by his side; power ran through her – and she craved more.

Ripping the tabs apart of his pants, she freed his cock into the cold air – it stood up straight from a patch of blonde curls; waiting to be touched. Hermione didn’t linger; enveloping it with her mouth in one move; Draco bucked unconsciously. He tasted salty and warm, as she hollowed out her cheeks and sucked while swirling her tongue around the head of his prick. Suddenly his hands were in her hair, clenching loosely as he continued to murmur incoherent words.

It had been a long time since she’d had a wizard in her mouth and she’d forgotten how much she loved doing it. The power, the thrill – the naughtiness of Hermione Granger with a large cock in her mouth sucking for all she was worth. She felt a throb from her own groin from the thoughts whirling in her mind.

Draco began to quietly buck underneath her ministrations; his breathing coming in sharper and his grip loosened like he wasn’t in control. Hermione grabbed the base of his cock and squeezed while licking and biting softly; he quivered in response. She then took as much as she could in her mouth and started to slowly let him go inch by inch. She did this three times until she could feel how on edge he was. Then she began to fist him – tight and hard while pushing her tongue against his slit and sucking.

With a loud bellow – Draco came down her throat, holding her shoulders like his life depended on it. He finally stopped twitching and she licked her lips in satisfaction.

“Granger, I..I can’t…fuck that was phenomenal.” Draco’s raspy voice spoke lowly.

Hermione hummed in approval and lay back down against his chest; not quite believing she’d just sucked off the self-proclaimed king of Slytherin.

Hang on – she what! Hermione jumped up and grabbed her head immediately – the throbbing was unbearable and she couldn’t open her eyes properly; it felt like somebody had taken a sledgehammer to her head. But, this was not her main concern; she cracked one eye until it was half open and watched Draco aghast at what she’d just done. Then she really looked at him – his face was slightly flushed, but his pants were done up and the air certainly didn’t smell of ejaculation. She also couldn’t taste the salty tang which was expected after giving head. Then it hit – it was another bloody dream. What the hell was happening?

“What happened – did I hit my head or something?” Hermione pulled her hand away from her head – along with it came a small amount of material – which looked like it was ripped from a t-shirt and it was covered in blood. “Draco – oi, are you okay?”

He suddenly looked at her wide eyed, then quickly looked down at his crotch; almost as if he were expecting to see something. Hermione frowned – maybe her head had been mangled.

“Yeah.” His voice was slightly breathless and he sat up straighter, pulling one leg up to rest his elbow on it. “You took a dive and were knocked out for a good hour. Shit, I must have dozed off too.”

Watching him, she saw his nervousness and he wouldn’t meet her eyes, almost as if he were embarrassed about something. Hell, she was the one who was dreaming of sucking him off – she should be the one going red, it’s not like he had an erotic dream about her. As the absent thought floated through her mind she grasped at it once more. No, way. It couldn’t be. The mirror, Manfred’s cryptic mood and the damn activation code – ‘dreams can come true’. Then thoughts of Draco mentioning a good dream when they got to the forest, his bloody crack about slipping into her sleeping bag and now…

She tried to keep her eyes from widening like saucers. That freaking shit, that pompous bloody antique charlatan – she would make sure he’d be deader than a hairy mammoth when she returned and she’d also make sure he’d be extinct too. But only after she got rid of this curse – although she needed to make sure Draco was experiencing the same as her – but how. She sure as hell wasn’t going to ask ‘hey, Draco had any interesting dreams lately where I starfish and you have your way with me at the same time I’m dreaming about it?’

As she mopped at her bloody brow she asked a few more inane questions about where the vents led to while scrounging around for an aspirin – which Draco said she couldn’t have when she found one, since it was a blood thinner. When the hell did he get smarter than her?

They caught each others eyes for a moment and Hermione knew what she had to do. Licking her lips slowly, she watched in dawning horror as his eyes flicked to her mouth and he flushed red and averted his gaze. Shifting into a crouching position he spoke towards his back pack.

“Right, now that you’re finally awake, we’d best do what we came for. Unless you want to laze around more?” His voice was tight and she heard a small waver in it. She decided she needed to play with this uncertain and not-so-cocky Malfoy for all it was worth.

“No, I’m good to go. But, we’ll have to eat soon – I’m craving something salty all of a sudden; must be the hit on my head.”

She watched as Draco’s shoulders stiffened and she heard a small intake of breath as he started to crawl away from her. If she hadn’t got her answer before, now she had it. It was official – Malfoy and her shared erotic dreams. She would never sleep again.

A/N: Thanks for reading :)
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Mirrored Desires