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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
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Hidden Thoughts

Draco slid onto his usual potions stool, waiting for class to start, and pointedly not looking back at the trio. His dreams had been terrible the previous night. He’d woken up lonely, even with Pansy curled into his side. She hadn’t been as satisfying as he’d hoped, her simpering voice ruining any attraction he felt. He’d managed to climax, but beyond that, he wanted to pull his own hair out, and try with someone less irritating. The mudblood seemed like some taboo itch under his skin, making him feel ashamed, and aroused at the same time. He felt less ashamed of himself when the sex he imagined wasn’t romantic. When he took her forcefully, making her cry out, and say lewd things. Imagining her sluttily coming onto him made him feel a bit better, so he could pretend he didn’t enjoy it as much as he really did.
“Last lesson, we had a few very good potions. Malfoy and Granger, your potion was excellent, a perfect example of teamwork.” Slughorn complimented them. Malfoy made a nasty face, at the mention of working with a mudblood.
“Today is a another paired lesson. Same pairs!” He called, waving to the room. “It’ll be easier to improve with a partner you’re familiar with, than a new one.”
Draco kept his eyes forward, refusing to look back as Granger approached. They didn’t even greet each other as Slughorn began lecturing briefly, setting them to their task. Draco set about opening his text, and pulling his ingredients out. Granger got the cauldron boiling, filling it with water from her wand, and setting the fire underneath.
Draco began preparing his ingredients, trying his best to ignore the swishing robes next to him, the smell of shampoo that floated across to him. He recognized the scent from the prefect’s bathroom, one of the frothy pink taps. He banished the image of Granger in a tub of pink froth, giggling merrily.
“I’d… Um…” He choked, unable to get the words he meant to say out. Granger ignored him, glancing only briefly in his direction before returning to her own work. She’d taken note of which ingredients he’d taken out, and took out the others, every other item listed.
“I’m sorry.” He forced the words out, letting them hang in the air. He looked over at her, and then back at her two friends. Weasley was glancing up occasionally, as if monitoring for insults. Potter was reading, his face an inch from the page again. Granger was staring at him in confusion.
“For the last potion. What I said made it go wrong. I won’t ruin this one.” He promised, feeling proud to be as good as he was at potions. She said nothing, just returned to her own tasks. He let the silence envelop them, hoping she wouldn’t tell her friends that he’d apologized at all. He thought about his dream, his terrible fantasy. How would she react if he actually tried to convince her to sleep with him?
“Hey, I was just wondering if you’d shag me, so I can mark you off of some stupid mental checklist.” Yeah, that would go great. He sighed, and turned to her.
“Ready for the teeth and nails?” He asked, holding up his handful of goblin fingernails. Her face looked a tad pink as she held up her own handful of teeth, over the pot.
“One. Two. Three.” He counted, and they dropped. When she turned away, he noticed her cheeks kept the pink color. Had she been touched by his apology? He doubted it.
“I’m ready with the lacewing flies, whenever you have those-” She held up a small jar, with three live leeches in it. He counted, and they dropped. They kept going, neither speaking their thoughts, and neither saying anything thoughtless.
“Good work, Granger.” He complimented her, forgetting for a moment that she was a Gryffindor, that they weren’t really friends, and that he couldn’t act on his desires.
“You as well.” She replied, politely, looking into the potion they’d made. This one had also included one of each of their hairs, but had leeched the hairs of color, and caught on fire. The white potion was flaming slightly, and Malfoy silently hoped it was what the potion was supposed to do, not a creation of his lust.
“Good work. I wasn’t expecting the flames, almost no one gets those right in classes,” Slughorn passed, noting. “Ten points each to Gryffindor, and Slytherin.” Hermione’s face turned pink again, and she bottled a bit of the potion, corking it carefully to keep the flames going inside the small bottle.
“You know what that potion is, right?” Draco whispered noting how she slipped it into her bag discreetly. No one but he had seen her take it.
“Yes. But it’s a perfect example.” She said, as though it made perfect sense. It was a dream draught, that would only provide dreams of the opposite person. He lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing further, noting again, how her cheeks reddened. A small part of him hoped she’d take it herself, and dream of him. Maybe it’d make her come to him, offer herself willingly before he was forced to chase her.
“No. I will not chase her,” he thought to himself, “If she won’t come to me, I won’t act on this stupid infatuation.” He’d made his mind up, resigned to wanking until someone else caught his fancy.

“I will not blush. I will not blush.” Hermione thought to herself, ignoring the thoughtful expression on Malfoy’s face. Whatever he was thinking about, it didn’t involve her. He had no cause to think she’d use the draught. They hated each other, and if he ever found out about her fantasy, she would be mortified.
“Nice flames, how’d you do that?” Ron was there, staring into their cauldron. “No one else did. It’s not in the book…” Hermione scoffed.
“Not everything is in that book, Ronald.” She replied, nodding toward where Harry still had his nose in it.
“Never said it was.” He sounded defensive. Hermione felt herself feeling on guard after her dream last night. What would Ron have thought of it? Nothing good.
“You two seem to act like it. We just followed the instructions. Perhaps Malfoy and I are just more focused?” She tried, feeling her face heat at the thought of being so close to Ron, and Malfoy at the same time. If either found out about her sick fantasy, even just the Malfoy part, they’d both be disgusted.
“Sure. Whatever.” Ron let it go, moving back to his own table. Slughorn was walking up to the table, and he whispered in Malfoy’s ear. Malfoy nodded, and began putting his supplies away.
“What’d he say?” Hermione hedged, hoping her partner didn’t get offended. He’d promised not to ruin this potion, so hopefully he would keep his words in check.
“Wants me to stay after class.” Malfoy said easily, not even seeming to think about it as he spoke. Hermione let the short conversation die, wondering if she should rejoin her friends, or stay with her potion. She cleaned up her area, and sat uncomfortably on the stool next to Malfoy, picking up one of her unfinished books, and opening it to where she left off. She sat bent over the book in her lap, so absorbed, she didn’t notice the blond watching her out of the corner of his eye, his face blank as he observed her reading.
“What book is that?” He asked, curiosity finally taking hold.
“Harold K. Lamier’s ‘Vegetables, Herbs, and Magical Roots’.” She replied, not looking up from the book. He snorted, taking no interest in the book, and looked back into the potion. The flames were dwindling, but still visible.
“Don’t read it, then.” She replied, offhandedly, as if replying to Harry, or Ron scoffing at a book.
“I already have. It was awful.” He said, watching the flames dance higher on the potion.
“Oh.” Hermione seemed at a loss for words, her face having risen from the book to look at the blond boy next to her.
“You’re not the only one who can read.” Malfoy sounded defensive as he glanced over at her surprised expression, looking a bit embarrassed about what he’d said.
“I know, I just…” she came up short, not sure how to finish her thought. She was so used to Ron and Harry having no interest in studying, and everyone else seemed to be uninterested in it, or her. It was strange, speaking to Malfoy in an almost friendly manner.
“If you want an interesting book, try ‘Poisonous Plants and Animals of South America’.” His face was smug, and superior, even though the words were friendly enough. He was doing his best to keep a civil tongue, but his face still held his true feelings written across it.
She stuck her nose back in her book, avoiding further civil conversation. If she wasn’t too careful, she’d give her imagination more fodder to use against her. The return of her thoughts on that subject made her cheeks burn, and her mind reel. He was sitting right here. What if he pulled her aside after class, into an abandoned classroom, and just started kissing her? Her imagination ran wild, and she didn’t realize her eyes were no longer on the page, but rather staring into space.

Draco watched her eyes glaze over as she blushed. A glimmering caught his eye, and he looked over, seeing the potion leaping with vibrant flames once again. He looked back to her, remembering the flames from their previous potion. Was this one similar? Was she thinking something inappropriate? He let his mind wander, testing his theory as he watched the flames, and imagined pulling her into the storeroom, and taking her by the hips, pushing her against a shelf, and kissing her until she couldn’t breathe.
The flames danced higher, and he forced his imagination away, staring at Slughorn until every smidgen of lust was gone. The flames dwindled, and Granger seemed to come out of her daze as well, looking again at her book, hiding her face with her bushy brown hair.
He stayed behind after Slughorn had dismissed them, staying on his stool, and ignoring the witch departing next to him.
“Well, m’boy. Good to see you and Miss Granger getting along so well.” He couldn’t tell if the Professor was joking or not, so he stayed quiet.
“I wanted to talk to you about those flames,” his stomach sank. Slughorn had to know what they meant. “You and Miss Granger were the only pair to concoct them. Do you know what they signify?”
“I think so.” Draco answered in a defensive tone, feeling his face flush.
“Good. Then you won’t be too surprised by what I wanted to talk about.” Draco looked anywhere but Slughorn’s face, wanting anything but to have this conversation.
“I don’t think you have to worry Professor. It’s just an infatuation, and it’s one-sided. I don’t even know why it happened.” Draco admitted, feeling strange, talking openly about his lust for the mudblood.
“It most definitely is not one-sided,” Slughorn laughed, holding his large belly with one hand. “The flames only happen if it’s mutual.” He chortled, taking in Draco’s surprised look.
“She…” He suddenly thought of her glazed look. She’d been imagining him just then? He couldn’t think past that understanding.
“Now, it seems that as you two aren’t friends, I thought I’d offer a bit of friendly advice.” Malfoy stared, still dumbstruck.
“The whole castle has a non-conception charm on it, just in case. We all know what being a teenager is like, and no one expects you to be perfect. However,” Slughorn continued, seeming to ramble on, even though Draco wasn’t responding. “Don’t cause a scene. Don’t do anything after curfew, and Merlin’s beard, don’t brag about it.”
“She’s a mudblood,” Draco finally stammered, realizing that last comment would never happen, regardless. “My father would kill me.”
“Even so, keep in mind that you can get points taken for acting rashly, or being too obvious,” Slughorn advised, leaning back in his chair. “Inter-house flings are always more noticeable.” Draco took that in, turning it over in his mind. Of course they were. If your partner shared your house, you had easy access to their bed. If they didn’t you had to get creative. Just like his every fantasy of Granger in classrooms, and closets.
“Thank you Professor.” Draco said, standing after Slughorn said nothing further. He left the room in a daze, thinking over what he’d been told. Granger felt the same.
She’d filched some of the dream draught! He knew that she was going to take it. Maybe he could influence it. He turned on his heel and walked right back to the potions room.
Slughorn glanced up, but when he noticed that Draco was dipping a ladle into his own potion, he looked away, and began humming as though he hadn’t seen anything.
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Mudblood Fever and Lingerie