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Patented Daydream Charms	By : Padfoot Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 24585 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Chapter 9

Bugger, bugger, bugger! She and her big fat mouth!

Hermione hadn’t even realised her slip-up until later when she felt that something was amiss, but she just didn’t know what. The bothersome sensation was much like when she left for school or went on holidays and was certain she had left something at home, but couldn’t pinpoint what it could be. She had been twisting and turning in her bed for an hour or so, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling, until suddenly the memory had crashed into her, accompanied with a loud bellowed oath that had awoken half her dorm mates.

Hermione hadn’t planned to bring up the topic of the Daydream Charms, but it had slipped out before she had been aware of it. She scolded herself for not learning to keep her mouth shut when she felt a bit emotional; she really ought to.

Hermione knew Malfoy was going to approach her on one time or another. The fact that she could practically feel his gaze burning a hole into the back of her head although potions class the following day, indicated that it would probably be sooner than later, unfortunately.

“If you wanted a shag, all you had to do was ask for it.”

Hermione closed her eyes and prayed that he would go away. She continued to gather her things without replying, her back safely turned to the person who had done nothing for the past few weeks but to throw remarks at her that got the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. Everyone else seemed to have left already. Typical, if there’s another class waiting for them they can’t seem to leave at a slower pace, but if it’s lunchtime everyone’s out the door within the blink of an eye.

“Granger,” Draco pressed.

No reply.

“Granger!”

Still no reply.

“Granger, did you send me that Daydream Charm for Christmas?” Draco asked.

“I’ve got to go,” Hermione mumbled and started to head for the door.

“You did, didn’t you?” Draco asked, grabbing her arm to stop her from leaving.

“Yes!” she groaned exasperatedly, trying to pull her arm free. “Now, will you please let me go!”

“Aha!” Draco said gleefully.

“What ‘aha’?” she asked defensively, turning to face him after he’d released her from his grip.

“Nothing,” Draco said innocently. “Except that the battle for the title of biggest attention seeker has just been fought and I clearly lost.”

“I didn’t do it because I wanted attention!” Hermione yelled, feeling offended. “I did it because for some reason you kept showing up in my Daydreams and wanted to know if it would be the same in reverse.”

Draco needed a moment to take in this information. So, he was in her dreams too? And because of that, she’d send him a Daydream so she could test if he would see her? Okay, this made sense, but how would Granger know if she had been in his dreams? Draco rolled his eyes. Of course she would know; the way he had been hovering around her for the past few weeks made it evident that she impacted him.   Draco scowled. Honestly, wasn’t it enough that Voldemort was on the other end of his puppet strings, but now Granger too?!

“So that’s it, was it?” he asked unconvinced. “You just wanted to test if it would be the same for me?”

“Yes,” she said. “And also because I didn’t want to be alone in this.”

“What this?”

“Are you kidding?” said Hermione exasperatedly. “The awkwardness of having someone you hate touching you intimately. It is unnatural, weird and wrong! You don’t honestly think I was going to go through it alone while there was a possibility you could experience the same anxiety.”

“So you didn’t like the Daydreams?” Draco huffed, feeling rather insulted.

“No, I didn’t,” she replied quickly, crossing her arms in front of her chest and giving him a stern look as if she was daring him to dispute the truth of her statement.

“That’s all?” Draco said sardonically. “You went through all this trouble for the sole reason that you wanted to make me feel as disgusted with myself as you were?”

“I wasn’t disgusted with myself,” Hermione spat.

“Exactly my point,” Draco said triumphantly. “If you ask me, you didn’t send me a Daydream Charm because you wanted me to hate it; you wanted me to love it.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Your actions don’t add up,” Draco smirked. “I don’t think you’ve send me a Daydream Charm because you wanted to make me miserable. Instead you were making a pathetic attempt to make your dreams become a reality. I think you liked having me in your dreams; you liked it more than you wanted to admit. You were hoping I’d feel the same way and do the thing you were too scared to do; make a move.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Hermione scoffed. “For that to be true, I had to, A) hope the leading lady in your dreams would look like me, B) hope you’d enjoy the fact that she looked like me, and C) hope you would actually make a move. It simply wouldn’t be logical to put that much faith in hope.”

“Well then,” Draco said, taking a step closer to her. “Are you logical, Granger?”

        Hermione stared at him owlishly.

        “Does it matter?” she asked.

        “Doesn’t it?”

        “I don’t know,” she sighed exasperatedly.

Hermione felt somewhat befuddled. She felt like she was participating in a game she didn’t understand. It seemed like they were trying to find out where each of them stood on the subjects of both the dreams and each other, but why? Hermione felt as if she was getting to know the playing field before the game would start, but what game? Was a part of her actually considering having sex with Malfoy, for real? Was Malfoy considering the same?

No, no, no, she couldn’t do that. There were too many consequences. She couldn’t know what he was thinking, what his intentions were. Hermione felt like she was ready for being physical with someone and being able to handle it maturely, but was Malfoy? What if she slept with him and he told the whole school, made up lies about it, or blackmailed her by threatening to tell others about it? She wasn’t prepared to subject herself to that sort of trouble while all she really wanted was to know what sex was like. Was a shag worth all this? No, she reckoned it wouldn’t.

Draco smirked. He was right; she had liked the Dreams just as much as he had. He was impressed actually, that she had gone through such length to satisfy her own wants and needs and had put her spotless reputation on the line in the process. It made him realise that he didn’t know her at all. Granger might actually prove to be more like the girls in his Daydreams than he had given her credit for, and Draco honestly didn’t mean that in a disrespectful sort of way. He hadn’t expected to find himself in this position, but now that he was here he wasn’t complaining. Granger still seemed hesitant and distrustful towards him and he guessed she needed an extra push to get what she wanted, which was he himself, Draco supposed. The satisfaction that accompanied this realisation also didn’t go past him unnoticed.

“I don’t know what you’ve seen in your Dreams exactly, but you should realise that the girls in them weren’t me,” Hermione pointed out.

“I know that,” Draco replied.

“Then what are we doing here?” she said in a then-lets-put-all-this-behind-us sort of way.

“Well, I don’t know what you’re doing,” Draco said dryly, “but my mind is currently wandering off to a rather pleasant memory where I was a police officer who had imprisoned a particularly fine-looking suffragette, meaning you, for disturbing the peace. At first you were playing a little game of hard-to-get, you even slapped me a few times, but eventually you turned out to be surprisingly eager to lift your skirts for me. I also remember you being quite the screamer. Unpleasant to the ears, but truly a joy for the male ego.”

“I’ve got to go,” Hermione yelped, her cheeks turning bright pink at the imagery. She swiftly took her book bag and turned towards the exit.

It all happened it a flash; a hand clasped around her wrist, a swift pull forward, then suddenly his mouth was on hers and Hermione found herself enveloped in a tight all consuming hug of lips, tongues, moist softness, and strange new flavours. She was vaguely aware of breath against her face, a hand in her hair and one softly against her cheek. Oh good lord, they were kissing! She was kissing Malfoy, for real! And it felt nice! Her book bag tumbled to the floor and she hesitantly placed her own hands on a foreign set of shoulders.

She moaned when she found herself pushed back against a desk while Draco tenderly sucked on her tongue. Oh God, this was it, she realised; this was the kind of kiss she had always wanted, the kind that seemed they could make a girl orgasm without having her body touched intimately. She was trying to concentrate on what she knew about kissing; to not open her mouth too wide, to not make her tongue stiff, to not push it in too far and to keep her tongue moist, but also retaining excess saliva. Hermione hoped she was complying with these basic rules, for her mind was too far-gone to pay much attention to them.

How far had Malfoy gone with a girl then, she wondered. Had he already had sex before? It seemed unlikely, for, as far as Hermione knew, Malfoy only consorted with pureblooded girls, most of whom still lived in a conservative society and were more than expected to remain celibate until their wedding night. It was most likely Malfoy hadn’t gone past some kissing and innocent petting. He did prove very well practiced at both these things, Hermione noticed.

In the haze of passion, Hermione latched on to Malfoy’s hand, which had been on her hip, and placed it on her breast. She moaned against his lips when he squeezed, the unfamiliarity of someone else touching her there exiting her. Even so, the foreignness of the act also shook her slightly from her lust filled haze. She pulled back, breaking the kiss; yet keeping her hand clasped on top the one of his that covered her breast. She looked into his grey eyes as if she was trying to probe his mind to find out what he was thinking. Good lord, this was crazy. She couldn’t possibly consider sleeping with him. It would be too rash!

... but the sex in her Daydreams had also been rash...

They weren’t even dating!

... but she didn’t want to date him...

She didn’t love him, nor did he love her!

        ... but she wasn’t looking for love, she was looking for passion...

She didn’t even like him!

... but she did lust after him...

It would be her first time; it should be memorable!

... who says it wouldn’t be?...

What about Harry and Ron?

... they don’t need to know...

What about Ron then? She still liked him.

... he wasn’t going anywhere...

But it’s Malfoy!

... exactly...

Hermione pulled her wand out of her pocket, pointed it at the door and charmed it shut. She put it on the desk behind her and turned to address Malfoy.

“I’ve never done this before and I’m not going to pretend that I know what I’m doing. I don’t expect anything from you after this, but I do need to know that you’re not going to laugh at me. Can you promise me that?”

Draco was slightly taken aback by this. He hadn’t realised girls actually thought like this; that they were also worried about their performance in bed. Wasn’t the guy the one who had to worry about making it good? Besides, how much experience did she think he has had?

“I promise I won’t laugh at you, Granger,” Draco said.

“Okay,” Hermione said with a sigh of relief.

They stared at each other for a few tongue-tied moments. When they both leaned in to start kissing again it felt a bit awkward; it was hesitant, less spontaneous and rather mechanical and therefore they both seemed to realise how strange it was to kiss the other person. After a few moments, their senses took over from their minds and the awkwardness faded. Their tongues heatedly slid against each other as their mouths were fused together in a firm lip-lock. They explored the taste and texture of each other’s mouths; getting acquainted with the unique feel and flavour of the other person.

Granger was getting more confident at this, Draco noticed. Not that she was a bad kisser, but Draco knew the difference between someone with experience and someone who hadn’t gone further than a few innocent pecks on the lips. Not that this necessarily meant anything; Draco had snogged girls with lots of kissing-experience, but who didn’t seem able to tell the difference between a deep French kiss and placing a stomach pump. He didn’t think Granger had much experience, but she definitely had rough talent. He trailed away from her mouth and started kissing her neck.

        “This doesn’t mean I like you, Granger,” he mumbled against her flesh.

“Shut up, Malfoy! You’re ruining it,” she responded, tilting her head so he could get better access to the sensitive spots of her neck.

Then she found herself lifted onto the desk, unsure if she herself had pulled herself on top of it or if Malfoy had elevated her. From then on, everything was just a blur of sensations. The hardness of the wood underneath her bum ... his lips softly nipping at her bottom lip ... his hair tickling her cheek ... his warm hand travelling upwards underneath her shirt, his fingers grazing her stomach ... her hands squeezing the round globes of his bum ... her legs spread wide, his firm body in-between them ... the rough fabric of his trousers chafing the bare skin of her inner thighs ... his lips and teeth nibbling on her ear ... she gently biting down into the flesh of his neck ... a groan... hands squeezing her breasts through her bra ... a whimper ... rubbing against each other ... his chest brushing against her hard nipples ... moaning ... kissing ... licking ... sucking ... groping ... warmth ... yearning ... his hands on the waistband of her knickers ... her hands tugging at his belt ... her knickers clumsily pulled down her leg and left dangling on her right ankle ... his zipper being opened ... his cock rubbing against the inside of her thigh ... a sigh against her lips ... trembling with anticipation ... wanting more ... wanting him inside ... then suddenly Hermione stiffened and her eyes flew open in realisation.

“Malfoy, wait!” Hermione said.

When he didn’t seem to listen, she grabbed his head in-between her hands and forced him to look her directly in the face. Speaking very slowly, almost as if she was talking to a foreigner with poor knowledge of the English language, she asked him: “Do ... You ... Have ... A ... Condom?”

Draco looked at her with an unfazed gaze, his overzealous mind trying to decipher her message little by little. Eventually he closed his eyes and groaned when the situation dawned on him; no, he didn’t have a condom. Shit.

Draco took a deep breath and attempted to collect his wits now that he knew there wasn’t going to be any action. His eyelids whipped open again when he felt Granger take his hand and placing something in its palm. His eyes widened when he saw it was a condom. Draco was hovering somewhere in-between incredible relief and great surprise. He hadn’t expected Granger to be the kind of girl who carried a condom everywhere just in case. On the other hand, she was the kind of girl to be prepared for every situation.

As Hermione observed Malfoy applying the condom, she realised that, if she didn’t count the small glimpse she’d seen of Harry’s during his little romp in the bushes with Ginny, this was the first time she’d seen an erection, or a penis for that matter, in real life. The fact that she was currently observing Malfoy’s erection without blushing like a virgin on her wedding night made her feel mature and confident, something she probably wouldn’t have been if the Daydreams hadn’t made her this familiar with male nakedness.

Hermione was grateful to see that Malfoy had actually paid attention during the sex-ed lessons they had been forced to attend at the beginning of each year. Having to point out to him that he was supposed to roll it down, or that he should have squeezed the tip between his thumb and forefinger didn’t really seem like a good way to set the mood. At any rate, the condom was correctly applied, safely into place and they were ready to go.

        They were kissing again. Then they were groping at each other, pulling at each other, as if wanting to fuse their bodies together. His kiss was a bit sloppy and unfocused, probably because he was still too inexperienced to know how to expertly tend to several things at the same time while making love to a woman.

She spread her legs, wanting, needing, something ... him inside ... inside, now! ... Then he was ... Oh god, yes, please move ... He pulled back ... A thrust ... Hermione winced ... Chafing ... Not enough foreplay ... Too tight ... Not wet enough ... Another plunge ... His hipbone bumping against hers ... A pant against her shoulder ... His face crumpled up and his eyes squeezed shut ... A harsh shove against the desk ... better now ... slicker ... yes! ... Harder! Faster! ... God, yes ... A shudder ... A groan... and then he collapsed on top of her.

Hermione lay back against the desk, panting harshly and staring up at the ceiling. She sighed as she circled her arms around Malfoy and held his spent body against hers, suppressing the somewhat depraved urge of rubbing herself against it so she could get off. She tried not to think ‘Was that it?’, but the thought had passed through her mind and was already out there. She had known most boys her age were still unfamiliar with the proper techniques on how to hold off their orgasm, so she hadn’t really expected Malfoy to be any different, but her unsatisfied body was currently tingling all over and she found it difficult not to be disgruntled. Heck, she had barely even felt it, and then just when it had started to feel good...

Hermione figured that’s the reason why girls had a hymen; so they’d feel some pain and would know for sure they had truly had sex. She wondered if she should try tapping him on the shoulder and announcing that she ‘wasn’t finished yet’. Hermione decided against it, though. She didn’t feel comfortable asking Malfoy this, because it would mean admitting she needed something from him. Stupid pride, she cursed herself.

Draco perched himself against the desk and lifted himself off of Granger; he knew the condom might slip off by itself if he didn’t pull himself out of her before his cock returned to its flaccid state. Too bad, he thought, since he wouldn’t have minded laying there for a minute longer, letting his cock gradually deflate in her hot wetness while he relished in his post-coital bliss. Another time perhaps, he said to himself as he discarded the little piece of used rubber by transfiguring it into a crumpled piece of paper and throwing it into the nearest paper bin. Not even in his wildest dreams had Draco imagined he would ever end up sleeping with Granger of all people, not even after he’d started using the Daydream Charms, let alone envisioning himself losing his virginity to her. He then tucked himself back into his pants and when he turned around and saw Granger straighten out her blouse, Draco realised he hadn’t even gotten to see her breasts. Damn, what a shame.

Hermione ran her fingers through her hair, trying to brush it back into place, which didn’t seem to be working very well. She hoped Malfoy would soon say something or she would have a sudden bout of inspiration, for the silence was starting to get rather awkward. What do people say to each other after they’ve slept together, but aren’t dating? ‘Thanks, I really needed that’, seemed rather tacky to her. Same as with ‘Great shag, Malfoy, we should do this again sometime’. It had been her first time after all, so she felt like it should be something less cheap.

“Do you think this was what it was all about?” he asked her with a frown. “Us seeing each other in the Dreams, I mean?”

Hermione looked at him in surprise. She was taken aback that he seemed to have chewed over this situation to such an extent. She hadn’t even come up with appropriate parting words while he had already debated the possible meaning behind their encounter. He really was quick at more things than one.

“I don’t know why we see each other in our Daydreams, but I don’t think it’s because we were somehow meant to shag each other,” said Hermione contemplatively.

        “How do you know?” Draco said. “I don’t know about you, but I do feel a lot better.”

        Hermione had the urge to tell him that perhaps that was because he had gotten off and she hadn’t, but didn’t give into it because that was beside the point.

        “You know, I just realised that I don’t really need this,” she said thoughtfully. “Don’t get me wrong, it was nice...”

        “What do you mean by ‘nice’?” Draco huffed.

        “Yes, Malfoy, you truly rocked my world,” Hermione said sarcastically. “No seriously, I think lots of people choose to have sex with someone they barely know to make themselves feel like they’re worth something, that someone is willing to love them, even if it’s only physically. I don’t think I need that. I like myself well enough as it is.”

A soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she realised how true it was. She really did like herself. This whole ordeal had changed her more than she had imagined it had. As it was now, she’d never think about risking detention over a boy, or about asking someone out she didn’t like just to make someone else jealous, or wondering how others would feel or think about everything she did or was about to do. During the past few months, Hermione had grown up. She had grown into a confident young woman who wasn’t afraid to take her life into her own hands, and she didn’t care about what others would think. She had learned about passion and how to please herself, and sex didn’t scare her anymore.

Perhaps Malfoy being in her Daydream Charms wasn’t about her wanting him there, but about her needing him there. It didn’t really matter what made it happen; something in the charm, something inside herself or simply fate helping a hand. There was something about Malfoy that had been able to trigger her internal development, something an anonymous fantasy-lover or anyone else she knew didn’t have. Maybe it was for the reason that there simply wasn’t anyone more wrong for her to sleep with. And perhaps she was in Malfoy’s’ Dreams because for some reason he also needed her there.

“Do you, Draco?” asked Hermione. “Like yourself, I mean.”

        Draco didn’t reply. He wanted to say he did, but the words didn’t seem able to leave his lips. He didn’t even know who he was anymore, so how could he claim to like himself?

“I think I know why you are in my Dreams, Draco,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. “I don’t know why I’m in yours, but I hope you’ll find out soon. I do know one thing; this whole thing wasn’t about us ending up shagging.”

Then she walked past him, the door closing with a soft ‘click’ as she left the classroom.

        Draco stared at the door in contemplation.

‘This wasn’t about us shagging, was it?’ Draco thought angrily. ‘Then what the fuck was it about?’

Draco had been reasonably okay before he had made ‘the beast with two backs’ with Granger, and now he felt like his head was about to explode with unanswered questions. The only question he had a real reply to was ‘Did he like himself?’, and he truthfully didn’t get pleasure from that answer.

Draco realised he was supposed to do something with all the things he had experienced, but he just couldn’t figure out what. Granger seemed to get what all this was about, so he couldn’t work out why he didn’t, and this irritated him.

Draco stamped his foot and cursed with frustration. He went to pick up his book bag and hurried out the classroom, the door falling shut behind him.

It’s true what they say, he realised; sex does complicate things.

*****

End of chapter 9

A/N: The idea of the police officer and the suffragette was from a request by Demoness Mark. Sorry for not writing the entire thing. I liked the idea, but I believe it was a tad too Muggle.
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Patented Daydream Charms