Pansy's Volcano | By : Bluemidget57 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 206365 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 8 |
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. |
New Disclaimer as required: All the characters and plot of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling, I am only perverting them to suit my own fantasy.
It all belongs to JKR. I have 2 kids, and I think that’s where the similarity ends.
One
It happened to Draco whilst Pansy Parkinson was kissing him in a small alcove off the corridor beside Professor Snape’s potions lab. Pansy had caught his arm as he passed by after the last double potions of the day, and pulled him into the alcove, muttering a small concealing spell as she did so.
Draco had been avoiding Pansy since the beginning of term, three weeks ago now; he had begun to feel that she was taking whatever minor liberties he had briefly allowed her for granted. There were definite signs of possessiveness beginning to show, which he was not going to tolerate and so he had withdrawn. It had, however, been quite a while since he had been with anyone and Pansy did have a very talented tongue, so this once he had followed her into the alcove and allowed her to climb up his body and start removing his clothes.
She was licking her way from his ear to his mouth when he heard the sounds of other students making their way along the corridor. Draco was unconcerned about discovery; most of the school knew he had had Pansy by the end of 5th year, and probably half the girls in the school would have happily taken her place. Draco wasn’t stupid; he knew a lot of his appeal to the witches came from a combination of the Malfoy money and name, and the power, which went with it, but lately Nature had also chosen to be exceptionally kind to him physically.
Not that it had happened immediately; somewhere around Christmas of 6th year he had finally grown upwards and filled out. Draco would never admit it, but he had spent a lot of time until that point worrying whether he was destined to be short. It hadn’t helped that his two worst rivals, Pothead and the Weasel had returned after the previous summer break both a head taller than him, and this had caused even more bitterness and rivalry on his behalf. Luckily he had finally grown into his reputation, and although both Gryffindors were still taller than him, he rather thought it helped his Quidditch game that he was less bulky; seekers needed to be sleek and fast and he was certainly that.
The voices neared Draco and Pansy and became clearer, and suddenly Draco found himself paying more attention to what they were saying than to what Pansy was doing.
‘….grab a handful of that!’ The dreamy voice of Luna Lovegood was unmistakable.
‘I know, just watching him on his broomstick…What a sin to keep it covered by his school robes all day! He should be strutting around in tight jeans and a white T shirt!’ Another girl, not Slytherin, whose voice he didn’t recognise. ‘I swear that’s the only reason I go to Quidditch matches, to perv after his bum. I’m living for the day he strips off his shirt and swaps with the other team, the way they do in the football league!’ Obviously she was a Muggle; Draco didn’t understand half of what she was saying although he got the drift well enough.
‘Honestly, what are you - twelve?’ Granger - he would know that voice anywhere. As usual, spoiling other people’s fun.
‘But, Hermione, even you have to admit he has a fine piece of ass!’ Ginny She Weasel.
‘No, I prefer my guy less…snakey,’ Granger snorted at her friend, and Draco, whilst still rubbing his palms over Pansy’s own behind, began to suspect that he was actually the subject of this illicit gossip. He smirked to himself; Granger was so predictable and uptight, what a shame he hadn’t heard her admitting to a secret lust for him. He would never let her forget it!! However, it really was a sad reflection on his state of ennui that he gained more pleasure from eavesdropping on a gaggle of gossiping Gryffindors than from the service Pansy was performing for him.
‘It’s no good dreaming, that Pug-faced Parkinson’s got him anyway,’ Luna continued repressively, and Draco had to smother a grin at the apt description. Good thing the pug faced one was to busy with his shirt buttons to eavesdrop. ‘ I really don’t want to keep him, he’d be much too high maintenance, but I would love to take him out for a test drive!’
‘I heard she has infidelity alarm hexes cast all around him, so she will know if he touches anyone but her,’ She did? Draco was impressed. He wouldn’t have thought Pansy capable.
“Ooh, I wonder what sort of hex you could use for that?’ Ginny asked excitedly.’ Do you think his dick might drop off? Oh, or maybe turn green and shrivel up? Hermione?’ He could picture them all turning to Granger, the resident brain, as if she had a list of emasculating hexes at her fingertips. Whoa, that was enough; it was beginning to make Draco uncomfortable. Merlin, it would make any red-blooded wizard twitchy! He would have to address that issue as soon as he got out of this alcove!
‘Ginny, Luna, you’re terrible!’ More giggling. ‘But you’re right…He’d be way too high maintenance to keep for any length of time,’ the unknown muggle again.
‘You know,’ Granger, sounding thoughtful, ‘Pansy may have had him, but I very much doubt anyone’s actually got him,’ she continued and the insight in her carefully chosen words made Draco’s eyes narrow and he was just about to stop Pansy’s wandering hands and pay more attention when Granger continued, and her voice changed totally from the tight clipped accent she usually used to tell him to shut up or get out of her way, to a low, husky, sultry tone dripping with sexual innuendo.
‘Can’t you just see them together; Malfoy’s just laying there on his bed; it would be huge - green and silver, all Prince of Slytherin, plotting ways to get points deducted from Gryffindor, while Pansy’s crawling all over him like a rash begging him Oh, Draco, I need you, kiss me Draco. Touch me, Yesss -right there! Oh, oh, I need you inside me Now Draco!’
Draco made a strangled sound and all the blood in his body suddenly rushed south and the erection he had been finding so elusive since Pansy started her fondling sprang to life with a force that astonished him. Pansy, who had been playing with his fly, not sure if she should progress, made a sound of pleasure and began easing his zip down.
Draco was too deep in shock that the sound of Granger’s - Granger? - sultry bedroom voice should have such an effect on his anatomy to even attempt to stop her. Even though he knew she was mocking both he and Pansy, he was picturing the Head Girl laying there on that green and silver bed of her imagination, begging him with those very words. His lust fogged brain barely heard the giggling girls out in the main corridor telling Hermione that she was wicked and bad, and then their footsteps began to recede down the hallway, conversation turning to the upcoming Quidditch match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw and totally unaware that their words had just ruined his life.
He was jerked forcefully back to the reality of his alcove by the sudden heat of Pansy’s wet mouth closing around his freed erection, and for a tantalizing moment the image of chestnut brown curls framing a face with sultry brown eyes gazing up at him through long dark lashes, whilst a pouty red mouth caressed him swam in front of his closed eyelids, and a whimper- Merlin, what was that? Malfoy’s never whimpered - escaped his clenched teeth.
Then he opened his eyes and his delicious fantasy evaporated devastatingly back into reality. And the reality was that Pansy Parkinson was on her knees in front of him, he was halfway down her throat, and her hair was the wrong colour and so were her eyes, and Oh, Fuck! What was wrong with him? He jerked back with a yelp, and thrust his palm against her forehead pushing her away from him and trying to fumble his erection back into his uniform trousers with the other hand.
Unfortunately, residual images of Granger deep throating him danced across the inside of his head refusing him the relief of softening his arousal, and even as he zipped up, he realized he would have to deal with it himself very, very soon.
As soon as he was half way respectable he draped his robes around himself like a shield, and snapping some excuse about Quidditch practice that didn’t sound convincing even to his own ears, he fled from the alcove leaving a totally baffled and miserable Pansy kneeling there in the position she had adopted for his pleasure.
Unfortunately, his dramatic exit was hampered by the fact that his arousal was so painful he could hardly walk, let alone sweep along the corridors in his usual commanding fashion, and he was extremely grateful that he encountered no one on his way back to the suite of rooms allocated to the Head Boy.
As soon as he reached his room he cast half a dozen locking spells on the door and threw himself onto his bed, an exotic representation of his house colours, just as Hermione had speculated, and wide enough to sleep half a dozen had he been inclined for an orgy.
His brain, which he had ferociously not allowed to think about what just happened to him whilst he had been making his way here, broke free of all restraints, and a kaleidoscope of images suddenly revolved around in his imagination, making him dizzy.
The one thing which became crystal clear t0 him was that Granger’s thoughtlessly teasing words spoken in jest and solely to mock him, had created in him the greatest arousal and therefore the greatest conflict he had ever known. She had planted truly terrifying images in his mind. By Merlin’s whiskers - how could he admit, even to himself, that he wanted Granger. Granger, the instrument of most of the humiliation which had occurred in his whole school life. The Golden Girl of the Golden Three, the only person in school consistently to receive better marks than he. The only girl who had never looked at him twice except to chastise him or hex him. The Bane of his Existence.
Was all it really took hearing her pretend to plead for him in a voice which sounded like pure sex, to make him lust after her, or was it even worse? Had it actually always been there? Buried so deep down in his psyche that he had been unable to recognise it until the shock of hearing her lips whispering all those things that he knew she would never say but he apparently wanted to hear anyway, had released something in his head that he was now unable to force back to where it had been hiding all these years?
It was true that whilst he spent a lot of time railing against the Golden Trio collectively, he was able to bring her image into much sharper focus than that of either Potter or Weasley. He knew every inch of her face; he knew exactly how high she came against his shoulder and how far down her back her hair fell. He knew the exact colour of her eyes even to the golden flecks dancing in the brown.
No, no, no, he moaned, and suddenly realized that totally without his conscious direction he had released himself from the confines of his uniform trousers, and was stroking his erection. What will it matter….an evil insidious part of his brain asked, if you indulge just this once. Imagine what you could be doing to her, how she would feel, how she would taste. Just this once. No one need ever know, and then it will be over.
I’ll know, and it will always be there, he argued with himself. You can keep a secret, the Other tempted, What are you going to do, run around the Slytherin dungeons telling everyone you got off fantasizing about that Mudblood Granger? Never happen. Just let it all out. Just this once…
He was going insane now on top of everything else. Arguing with himself like a nutcase from St Mungos….Draco closed his eyes. He was getting a headache to go with the spectacular aches in other parts of his body. But there she was again, floating behind his eyelids just waiting for him to weaken. She crept up his bed and knelt at his hips her hair brushing across his stomach, peeking up at him though her lashes in the way that he only just now realized drove him wild. He could feel her hot breath on the insanely sensitive flesh of his cock, and then the evil witch allowed the tip of her pretty pink tongue to lap around her lush mouth, making her lips moist and shiny, and then they closed over him where Pansy had so recently been, but it was not the same sensation. Oh, not at all. His hand clenched tighter as he imagined the touch of her and it was all over for him.
With a roar that he barely managed to strangle in his throat by biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, Draco erupted into an orgasm so intense that his whole body coiled upwards from the bed, and black spots formed in front of his eyes. In the fierce grip of his hand his cock released copious spurts of thick white cum over his stomach and the bed linens beneath him. This orgasm was so long and forceful that he was shaking right the way down to his toes by the time it was over and he was panting just to get enough oxygen into his lungs to draw the next breath.
It took him long minutes to gather his scattered thoughts back, and he was still panting, his heart racing when he finally managed to raise himself onto his elbows and take in the mess he had made of the bed and himself. Fuck, but he had never come like that before in his life. The evil treacherous voice in his head teased him suggesting slyly that if it felt this good just with his own hand and a bit of imagination, how much better could it be if he was really inside of her? He moaned, as that image brought with it a sudden and unexpected encore, which he would have honestly believed his body incapable of after his first climax.
What in the name of Merlin’s Beard was happening to him?
2459
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