Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

A Very Dramione Holiday	By : K_B_Lynne Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 19412 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of its characters or settings, they are the sole property of J K Rowling (duh). Oh, and I make no money for doing this. (again, duh)

Chapter List
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- 2
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone! I know, it's been a long time since I've posted anything new, but I thought I'd give you all a fun little Dramione Christmas fluff piece. As you probably saw, I did not list this as WIP or Complete, as I've been debating whether or not to end the story as a one-shot, or continue it as a holiday series. Luckily for you all, my mind is made up! Be on the look out for a new installment on New Years Eve. As always, please rate and review, it really keeps me going.

They'd never believe it, Hermione amused herself with pondering as she made her way back to her dorm. Being invited to the faculty Christmas party had been a great privilege, an honor, really, to the newest head boy and girl. She and Draco Malfoy had gone together, and as hard as it was to wrap her head around sometimes, they'd had a very good time. The food was good, as was the drink, and Hermione was feeling just a little light on her feet as she struggled in her heels to make it back to the head dormitory. Okay, so maybe the drink had been too good, but she was feeling utterly superb.
She couldn't stop thinking about what happened at the party. He'd kissed her, he'd actually kissed her! Sure, it'd been under the mistletoe, and it'd been at the insistence of a very clearly drunk Professor Sprout, who got too much enjoyment out of catching them under the mistletoe, but it'd happened, and she could still feel what it was like to have Draco's lips on hers. She didn't hate it.
She stumbled to a stop when she realized she was in front of their portrait door, and grinned up at the sleepy figure, who had stirred at the sound of her clanking heels.
"So sorry to wake you at this hour," she apologized, trying to keep as straight a face as possible. "Sockerdoodles," she spoke the password, taking small steps to keep from losing her balance as she stood waiting for the door to be revealed to them. Once inside, she dropped her purse on the coffee table and plopped down onto the couch, only making sure her dress covered her properly as an afterthought.
"Well, I must say, this was a wonderful night," she told her dorm mate and partner, grinning happily. "I was actually sad to see the party end."
"Doesn't have to end, does it?" Draco slurred in a misty tone, feeling strangely... relaxed as he joined her on the couch. He'd felt some kind of spark, something delicious and electrical and... amazing, when they'd kissed earlier. He didn't want it to end; not if this feeling went with it.
With a flick of his wand, he summoned two goblets from the kitchen, and a bottle of strong firewhiskey from his room. "We could have a few more?" He added with a grin, tone nearly challenging as he poured himself a glass.
Hermione, who normally shied away from the strong liquor he’d summoned, smirked at him. “I hope you have hangover potions on hand, because I do not.” She wasn’t a big drinker, and she had just enough experience with firewhiskey to know how badly it messed her up, even when she wasn’t already drinking prior to it. But, Hermione was feeling bold tonight, so she figured that there really wasn’t much harm that could come from it, except for perhaps a night in front of the toilet, which, at the moment, she didn’t think was the worst thing in the world, if it meant having a good night like tonight.
“Who knew those old cads could toss it back like that?” she laughed at the recent memory of seeing all the teachers she’d grown to admire in such a sloppy state.
"Well they are human," Draco pointed out, grinning and handing her a glass with a smirk. "But I do wish I hadn't seen Flitwick and Sprout sneak off at the end." He added with a shudder, pouring the second glass for himself.
Hermione sighed and shook her head. “And I do wish you hadn’t pointed it out to me, twice now,” she agreed with a playful sneer. She could have gone the rest of her life without that thought in her head.
Draco laughed, grinning, and held up his glass in a mock toast. "Still a better Christmas than last year, eh?" He pointed out. They'd all been miserable last year.
Hermione took her drink and held it up to him in return to the toast. “Oh, you have no idea.” And he really didn’t. She hadn’t bothered to divulge into the true story of what happened last year between her, Ron, and Harry. She felt he had enough weighing on his conscious.
At the thought of last year, Hermione tossed back the clear fiery liquid, grimacing at the taste.
Draco threw back his own drink, draining it in one go. His mother had needed him; he'd returned home for Christmas last year. Home to the manor. To the Death Eaters. To Him. He shuddered as his throat burned, and repressed the memories further.
"To a new bloody year." He toasted after the fact, refilling his glass already. In a few short days, the reign of the Dark Lord would officially be history; it'd be last year. "And your dance moves at the party." He added with a tweak of his brows, to cut the tension a little. Her dress looked fantastic on her, screamed Slytherin, and hell if he didn't want to do just that right about now.
Hermione went to take her second shot, but his comment about her dancing had her spilling most of it with a laugh. She pulled away from the glass and set it down, before wiping the liquid from her face and chest. “Hey, I never claimed to be much of a dancer,” she said, assuming he was making fun of her.
"Oh, you were fantastic." Draco chuckled with a smirk. "For someone having a seizure, I mean. Though, in that dress, I doubt anyone noticed. Pretty sure even McGonagall was staring at your arse."
Hermione got up and went to the kitchenette for a napkin, returning while toweling off her chest once more. “Oh ha, ha, very funny,” she replied dismissively. She wished she could have made fun of his dancing in return, but unfortunately, Malfoy were rather graceful people, it was all about the poise they were raised with. “I apologize for not being the debutant you were raised to associate with,” she teased in return instead.
"Mhmm." Draco answered vaguely, leaning back and craning his neck over the back of the couch to watch her as she walked away. Really, Granger had a fantastic arse. "Absolutely."
Okay, he did hear what she'd said. At this point he was just being obnoxious, with his blatant ogling.
Hermione rolled her eyes once again. “Oh geez, really? You haven’t gotten used to me in the sight of this dress yet?” He’d been staring at her all night, and it was making her wonder if the dress hadn’t been a little too much for the occasion, but Ginny had insisted she should spoil herself. She sat next to him again, crossing her legs in a very deliberate manner. It made her dress ride up a bit, but at least her crotch wasn’t exposed, or her bum.
"No, just enjoying it." Draco grinned at her, a rouge grin that was slightly crooked from drinking. He filled his own glass and topped hers off from the spill. "It's a nice change from the usual; for you anyways. This and the Yule Ball are the only time you've ever shown any fashion sense."
Hermione took her drink, but gave him what she’d meant to be a warning look, but in her drunken state came off as a playful grin. “Who needs fashion when I spend eighty percent of my time hidden under my robes anyway?” Hell, with how cold it was in their region, even when she wasn’t in class she was usually shrouded by her robe just for warmth.
"Oh, come off it." Draco scoffed, sipping his whiskey, slowly this time, soaking in the sight of Granger over the rim. "Fashion is for you and no one else. You think slags like Pansy dress the way they do for everyone else? They do it for attention, to feel good about themselves."
But, when he thought about it that way...
"Then again, I s'pose it makes sense you never had fashion sense. You don't need other people to let you know how great you are." He chuckled darkly, toeing off his shoes and propping his feet up on the coffee table. Despite the seeming sarcasm in his tone, he did mean it, backhanded though the compliment was.
Hermione stared at him for a long time, struggling in her haze to decipher everything he was saying to and about her. “I’m not sure if you just called me conceded or great, but…. I think I’m going to go with latter.” She perked up a bit at that thought and took her shot.
Draco shrugged. "Brightest witch of our age and all, fighting the..." He gestured vaguely with his free hand in a circular motion. "...Bullshit. Top student, head girl, and guaranteed work anywhere you want as soon as you leave this place... Get that hair under control and you've got the whole package."
Draco was right, about all of it, and especially the hair, Hermione thought to herself. “Hey, it takes a lot of work to get my hair looking this good, there’s no way in hell I’d consider making that a daily ritual,” she defended herself. Today was one of the rare days in her life that she actually put herself through the hassle of hair serums and potions to make it look so good.
"It's practically your trademark, anyways." Draco teased her with a smirk, taking a longer sip of whiskey. "Though I doubt there's a bloke out there that wouldn't want to dig both hands into it." He added with a saucy tone and a wink that she probably wouldn't understand. She seemed so innocent, so... naive.
Hermione was still having trouble believing Draco’s behavior tonight. She’d seen him act like a perverted cad on many girls over the years, but never had it been directed at her in such a both derogatory and complementary way. It was a confusing combination.
She pointed a finger at him. “You…. you… You’re a real dog tonight, you know,” she told him so matter of factly that it was hard to tell what judgement she was using about the information; if she was offended or dismissive. “What has gotten into you?” Even the question came from a near scientific standpoint, as though she was really curious as to the exact origins of his behavior.
She was getting dizzy over analyzing everything that was being said and thought, and decided to distract herself with pouring them each a third, fourth?
Draco hummed his thanks appreciately, and wondered how they'd gotten so close. Or maybe it just felt like they moved closer?
"Some stuck up swot broke my nose when I was thirteen." He explained in simple terms, as if this were as scientific as the thirteen properties of Dragon's Blood. "No one's ever stood up to me like that. Bloke like me? Likes the ones who stand out." He finished with a smirk. It could be interpreted many different ways, and to this day Draco himself couldn't decide if he did or ever had fancied the girl.
Hermione’s eyebrows shot up at his explanation, as though the incident was some sort of surprising news to her. “Wow, so this older, bolder young woman, put you in your place, and now you like her?” It was his word, he’d said he likes the ones that stand out, and he obviously placed her in that category.
Draco laughed. "See, now that makes it sound so childish, when you say it like that." He spoke almost chidingly, letting his arm slide along the back of the sofa, brushing against Granger's bare shoulders. "I certainly find her fascinating, though." Granger broke all the rules, threw away all the things he'd been taught about Muggleborns. He didn't know how long he'd found her fascinating, but he had for years.
Hermione turned to face him fully, pulling her legs under her bent on a slant in front of her. “I defy everything you were raised to be, aren’t I?” She was smarter than almost every other student in their school, and she’d pulled it off without any prior knowledge of the world she now found herself. She didn’t have the eleven years of history, practice, tradition, and pop culture. And yet she was marking her way in this world without much standing in her way. In fact, with the war over, there was little to nothing in her way. “And it drives you bloody crazy, doesn’t it?”
"Always has, Granger." Draco answered her in a hushed tone, glass empty and sitting on the tablet now. He brushed a curl behind her ear, as if he had every right to touch, an almost absent minded gesture. "The dress just makes matters worse." He added, to cut some of the tension from the air.
That absent minded gesture made a chill run through Hermione unexpectedly, her body giving the tiniest of jolts, the movement so brief it was over before she could register the feeling. Hermione smirked at him, sensing his return to playfulness, and finding some of her own. “So is that why you kissed me? The dress just pushed this total package over the brim?”
"The more forbidden the fruit, the sweeter the flavor." He answered rather poetically, his hand still resting on her cheek. "I took a chance to have a taste for myself." He added, running his thumb just under her lower lip.
"I will admit, I did enjoy that taste..."
Hermione caught herself experiencing an urge to lick the lip he’d just rubbed, but recognized it quickly enough to resist doing so. “You didn’t taste so bad yourself,” she told him softly, by means of finally confessing that the kiss hadn’t been as horrific an experience as she’d probably made it out to be at the party.
Draco hummed appreciatively in response, watching her lips, her eyes, all of her as she spoke. She was a beautiful witch, no matter what anyone said or thought. He found himself leaning closer.
"How about another taste then... Granger?" He proposed, putting a sultry emphasis on her surname.
She’d blame it on the alcohol in the morning, she’d already decided. She wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but she was forgiving herself in advance by deciding to blame her unusually high blood alcohol level. She was more wine and whiskey than blood at the moment. “Not a terrible idea, the results could be completely new with a new setting, not nearly a dozen teachers watching anxiously around us.” There was only one way to gain a conclusion.
"Mmm... I'd love to hear about those results later. We could even set up regular experiments." Draco hummed, feeling his body stir to life already. Damn, it was just hot when she talked like that. Especially when she looked so shaggable.
He closed the gap desperately, quickly, and claimed her lips in a searing kiss.
It was just a drunk snog, it was nothing to be ashamed of, and that was exactly the last thought Hermione had before his lips claimed hers, and she returned his, well, she supposed it was passion. The night was just going so well, why not end it on a high note? Who didn’t love a good snog? She placed a hand on his shoulder for balance, as the leaning forward was awkward and she feared would soon make her back ache. Hermione even dared to deepen the kiss, giving him the go-ahead to, well, go nuts.
Draco welcomed her acceptance, her gentle touch, and the seeming permission she gave was taken eagerly. He stroked his tongue against's Granger's twisting and dancing with hers in the age-old dance of the snog. His hands went up automatically, burying in that wild mane of her hair, as he'd wanted to for so many years.
Maybe years of hatred really had blinded them to the raw chemistry that they suddenly shared. Hermione allowed herself to melt into him, embracing the craziness that was transpiring between them. What was the worst that could happen? As her tongue followed his much more experienced lead, Hermione let out a soft moan of delight. This was simply lovely.
And that quiet, restrained moan, well... It drove Draco crazy. He tugged her hair lightly with one hand, breathing her in, soaking in the feeling of this amazing, forbidden moment. One of his hands untangled, wandering down her back, grazing at her zipper. It wrapped around her hip, slid down her thigh, leaning into the woman, leaning her back. He could lose himself in this, far too easily.
Hermione allowed herself to be moved until her head hit the arm of the couch, where she rested it as she allowed one leg to tangle between his, making more room for both of their bodies to fit horizontally on the couch. Yes, this was a perfectly acceptable life choice. A good, hearty make out session… She hadn’t realized how much she’d been craving this.
His hand left her mane for the sake of her wrist and their tongues moved faster against one another, a drunker sloppiness coming to their passion. Draco’s hand moved under her dress, feeling for her knickers in a desperate need to feel this forbidden woman. And all the while, he rocked against her, showing her what she did to him, the hard on she'd caused, the kind she'd given him for years…
She couldn’t believe where his hand was about to go, and she thought about letting it happen, but at the last second, as his fingertips grazed her newly moistened knickers, she panicked. Hermione wrapped her leg around his waist, the movement giving her the opportunity to wiggle out of his reach. Whether she genuinely didn’t want him touching her there, or she just chickened out, Hermione wasn’t sure, but she was sure that she didn’t want to stop.
Draco didn't mind her resistance; just feeling the moisture there had been enough for him. It was reassuring, the she had some desire for him, that he wasn't completely round the bend for wanting her. If there'd been nothing, he might have withdrawn completely.
Draco caught himself, moving his hand to the couch near her hip for better support and balance. He smirked into their kiss, eyes closed, and trailed his other hand down her arm and over, grazing the underside of Granger's breast experimentally. He just needed to reel it in a bit; this wasn't some tart to just shove his dick in and get off with. This was Granger.
Hermione realized that she wanted to be touched, yes, but she wanted to be eased into it, wooed, essentially. But Merlin, it’d been so long since hands have touched her like this, and she pushed her chest into his touch, wanting it, needing it. She found her body beginning to gyrate against his, and while she was aware of how horribly slag-like she was behaving, she didn’t care enough to stop.
Draco ground his lithe form into Granger's small, toned body. Merlin, she was... brilliant. She tasted like alcohol and something so wonderfully, uniquely her. When he cradled and groped her breast, it was soft and firm, heavy in his hand, larger than those school robes had once lead him to believe. But fuck they still felt fantastic, and he tried to ease some of the fabric down, so he could get to her skin.
And this time, Hermione didn’t stop him. In fact, she wanted to feel his hands against her sensitive, largely underappreciated breasts. She broke her lips from his temporarily to catch her breath, breathing heavily just past his ear. “This stays just between us, right?” she felt the need to put the question on record, it wasn’t that she honestly thought he was going to go bragging.
"You me and a Pensieve." Draco replied in a husky murmur that almost sounded like a growl. The pause didn't stop him; he moved to her throat, kissing and licking and tasting her succulent flesh. He fingers slid under the top of dress, cupping the firm mound through her bra.
“I think my earlier analysis supports my thesis, this is much different than before,” she told Draco, before she found his lips again, ready for another heavy round of snogging. There was nothing else quite like it. The endorphin rush alone made it worth the relationship changing act.
"Better," He muttered against her lips between heated kisses. "Fan fucking tastic." he added, before plundering her mouth with his tongue again, pushing up Granger's bra. Her breast in his hand was perfection, fitting just right in his palm. He tweaked and teased her nipple with his fingers mercilessly.
And it was amazing. Merlin, she couldn’t remember the last time even Ron had given her this kind of attention, even before their relationship went south. Hermione moaned and whimpered into Draco’s mouth in gratitude, and her nails, which she’d actually just manicured, dug into Draco’s back to indicate her appreciation as well as her need. She could feel him pressing into her, his hardness, excitement, desire. It was hard to resist, even if the very idea of giving in terrified her to no end.
Draco let out a strangled groan, thrusting his hips against her in response to the painful pleasure she inflicted upon him. Most of the women he'd been with had been pure; girls like Pansy. They knew how to get him off, preferably as quickly as possible; they didn't know how let loose passion, and didn't incite it from him either.
His fingers twisted her nipple lightly, tugging on it, moaning into her decadent mouth. His other hand moved back to Granger's thigh, light, coaxing touches this time, requesting instead of rushing. Everything about her was different; he had no doubt that the feeling of her cunt on his skin and the way she came would be no less spectacular.
A deep moan expressed her pleasure at his treatment, harder than she was used to, but still with enough experience and skill that it didn’t hurt. Hermione’s legs moved again, but this time spreading ever so subtly, indicating her approval this time. She wanted to be touched there now, she was ready for it, and the desire had become urgent. She rubbed her leg against his thigh invitingly.
Fuck, he couldn't remember having to move so slowly with a woman before. But this was no ordinary woman, now was she? No, Granger was... Entirely different.
Draco eagerly slid his hand up her creamy thigh, rubbing his thumb against the moistened crotch of her knickers. The simple touch made his body shudder with pure desire, knowing this marvel of a woman lusted for him after all that had transpired between them over the last seven years.
He ran his thumb over her covered slit again, pressing where her outer lips met to find her clit, to pressure it. He wanted to give her pleasure, so much that she would come running back again and again for more. He wanted her to want, desire, and obsess as he had for so long...
Hermione gave a jolt, not for surprise, or dislike, but because the feeling of his thumb on her clit was electric, sending desire running through her so strongly that she instantly became covered in goosebumps. Her lips broke from his with a gasp.
“Oh, Merlin,” she sighed between heavy breaths, and it was a moment before, amidst her writhing beneath him, she had regained enough oxygen to return to the absolutely intoxicating act of kissing this man of pure sex.
"Draco," The blonde corrected her roughly, grinding his thumb into her clit a little roughly. But, before his drunken brain could form some kind of witty remark to add onto that, she was kissing him again, and he couldn't resist her. He needed to feel her, and he tugged her knickers aside roughly to run his fingers through her swollen lips, to feel just how wet she was, to feel how soft and bloody incredible she felt.
Hermione dared to laugh against his lips at the correction, and even lightly pressed her teeth down on the tip of Draco’s tongue encouragingly. His touch was magical, even just the feeling of him spreading her own wetness between her lips was amazing, turning her on even further. She knew what he was going to do next, and she just couldn’t wait until he inserted his finger into her lonely womanhood. Hermione wasn’t one to touch herself. She wasn’t against it, she simply got no satisfaction from it. It wasn’t the same as having it done to her by someone else.
Draco took his time, feeling Granger's slick folds, alternating between touching her and losing himself in their kiss. She was hypnotic, a temptress, and he knew he needed more of her.
His hand was as drenched as her silky pussy when he finally pressed his middle finger to her entrance. He swirled and pressed gently, easing the digit into her tight heat; even just putting a finger inside her made his eyes roll. He was already imagining how fantastic she would feel on his cock, because it would happen now; it HAD to. He'd have her at least once this school year, he was determined. But for now...
"Fucking hell, Granger," He gasped, barely breaking from her lips. "Touch me." He demanded roughly, denying in his own mind the need in his voice. But he'd been doing all of the work so far, getting her turned on, and the only relief he'd gotten was the friction of grinding into her like a horny little ponce. He wanted to feel her hands on his skin as much as she was enjoying feeling his touch.
Hermione had very little experience in this area. She’d probably spent more time touching Harry than she had Ron, who’d always just been very quick to get it in. But she wanted to touch him, to return the attentions that he’d so happily and eagerly paid her. So, feeling both clumsy and silly, Hermione wedged one arm between their bodies and found the mount of hard flesh that was grinding into her.
She grasped it and rubbed it through his pants at first, before her fingers found their way to his belt. Damn belt. Men always complain of the challenge of a woman’s bra, but the challenge of a man’s belt was about the same. As she worked the metal clasp apart, her anxiety grew. She wondered what it’d be like, how hard, how thick, how long… Would he be too much for her? She doubted he’d be too big, because a man like Draco was simply not allowed to be that complete of a package, no pun intended. He couldn’t just have it all, could he?
Finally, she loosed the belt, and was able to open his pants quite easily after that. A fresh wave of nerves came over her as she reached her hand inside, kissing him with a steady passion as if hoping it’d distract him from the awkwardness she was experiencing as her fingers wrapped around him. Merlin, he was warm, and hard, so hard! She stroked him awkwardly, trying to remind herself that millions of girls did this with millions of boys every day. It was not such a big deal!
Her clumsy, awkward movements just made the whole experience better, in Draco's opinion. He tried to shift his body, finding himself on his side with his back wedged against the back of the couch, Granger's leg over his hip. The air was hot on his cock as it sprang free, and he thrust proudly into her tiny hand, groaning, never breaking their heated snog. He pumped his finger into her in time with her unsteady thrusts, as if this were some kind of encouragement, or assurance. He added a second finger slowly, and crooked them into her soft muscles, his thumb running lazy circles around her clit.
She must have lost her mind, it was all Hermione could think about between the insane amounts of pleasure she was receiving from her long time foe. How could she be having this amazing moment with someone whom up until this year she’d hated? And how come it was the best she’d ever felt? Was it just the alcohol?
Draco’s new position gave Hermione a better angle to work with, and along with it the confidence she needed to continue treating his hard shaft with enthusiasm. The second finger had her moaning steadily, her lips still against his though she could no longer focus on kissing, merely trying to breathe in the middle of so much excitement.
Draco kissed her still; her lips, her cheeks, her eyes, anything he could. Her hand was seeming to grow more confident in it's movements, and his fingers continued to match her as they went.
"Fuck, Granger," He gasped against her skin, thrusting into her hand. Sweat was building onto his brow, on his back, the whole room felt hot. And Merlin, so did she. When had the dynamic between them shifted so dramatically? "That's good... A little tighter..." Any man liked an inexperienced woman; it meant being the one to teach her, letting her know exactly what he liked, how to suck and hold and handle him.
While some girls would have been offended, or felt dejected, Hermione thrived under constructive criticism, and his words spurred her. Her grip on him tightened, and, having fallen into a steady rhythm, she was able to give attention to other areas as well. Hermione’s lips trailed light kisses across his jaw bone up to his ear, where she sucked and nibbled his lobe playfully. She panted and moaned for him to hear, her teeth biting into the pliable skin as the pressure building at the work of his fingers came to a noticeable climax. She felt as though she would explode, or implode, she wasn’t sure, all she knew was that this amount of pleasure, and pressure, was going to make her blow.
“Oh God, Draco!” she moaned pitifully, her wrist working vigorously to give him the same high she was receiving.
"Yes, oh, fuck yes Hermione!" Draco gasped her given name, because it felt too right to use it right now. His arm hurt, but he didn't care, dragging her leg up to hook onto his shoulder and pounding his fingers into her with abandon. He could feel her on the brink, on the edge of sweet release...
"Cum, Hermione," He whispered darkly to her. "Cum like a good girl, cum hard, cum for me..."
Hermione didn’t need to be told, he was silly to think she had any choice in the matter, but his words, his tone, they alone threw her over the edge. She gasped and held her breath to keep in the sounds she would have otherwise made. Finally, she cried out, releasing everything at once, giving in to him in the most personal of ways.
What about this wasn’t sex? It seemed to her it didn’t matter what was put where, sex was sex was sex, and right now, sex was all Hermione could think about.
"I want you to fuck me, Draco," Hermione panted out before she could even think straight.
Draco didn't need to be told twice; he didn't even care that she was telling him. His shirt practically flew off of him before he rid Hermione of her bra and panties; wandless magic had been in there somewhere, but he didn't know where right now.
And then he was moving them, putting Granger back on her back, himself between her legs, hands on her hips, pushing up her dress.
"I admit," He panted, grinning rather roguishly, flush-faced and lusty-eyed. "I've been dying to Slytherin to this thing all night."
Hermione laughed, she had to. What else could she do? Be mad, offended by his profane comment? She had just invited him to do exactly as he said! There wasn’t much more to be done but laugh.
“Not here. God. In a bed,” Hermione told him as though this was supposed to be obvious. With their luck, and with their drunkenness, they’d end up falling off the couch and hurting themselves.
Nevermind they'd likely kill themselves on the stairs. "Bloody lucky you're different." He growled, smirking darkly at her. He shifted so she could get up, pulling her along, and smacked her arse when he had her up.
"Then get that pretty arse up there, Granger. Before I start deducting house points." He teased her shamelessly.
Hermione wasn’t sure when in all of that her shoes had fallen off, but when she got to her feet, she was happy to be rid of them, because the room was already spinning as it was. She giggled in an uncharacteristic fashion when he surprised her with his playful swat, before heading to the stairs. She was grateful to have a strong railing to hold on to as she hurried up to her bedroom. She had to move fast, for fear that her nerve would wear off and her anxiety would win out. The moment she made it to the top of the stairs, she was already unzipping her dress. It needed to be gone already, the damn thing was tight and extremely restricting..
The zipper was down, the dress sagging, when Draco caught up with her, needing a moment to collect himself. Shit. This was actually about to happen!
He tugged the fabric down, and smoothed over her bare skin with his hands, touching her everywhere, feeling her, memorizing her. Yes, tonight was definitely going into a pensieve...
Hermione froze when she felt his hands on her body, and her skin felt hot, like fire, everywhere he touched, while the rest of her was covered in chills. She revelled in the dress falling away from her, and carefully kicked it away, leaving herself in only her nude thigh highs, the one article that wouldn’t interfere with what they were about to do.
She turned around in his arms to face him, and began to push his pants down so that he would be as naked and vulnerable as she was in this moment. She pressed her bare body against his, wanting to just feel him, as she caught his lips in a smoldering kiss.
Draco returned the kiss with fervor, tasting her deeply again as he guided them until his back hit her bedspread. He pulled Hermione with him, ground against her thigh, and memorized her form as he held her in his lap. He doubted this would happen again, despite his desires, but he wanted to capture every memory he could to call upon later.
Hermione settled on top of him, straddling him as he examined her. Her hand went to his cock again, grasping it and stroking it with the pressure she now knew he preferred, only this time, she held it against her soaking wet opening, so that with each rise and fall of her hand, his stiffness rubbed against the hairless entrance she ground against him.
This part she had some experience in. Ron was a rather lazy lover, but at least it gave her room to shine. All the while her eyes were locked on him, watching him commit her to memory, and biting her lip to contain her own excitement.
"Fuck, you're amazing," Draco whispered despite himself. "It's not fucking right..." He added, as if warring with himself. She was right; she went against everything he was raised to believe. And that made him hate wanting her.
His hands moved roughly across her skin, finding purchase on her curvy hips as she lined him up once again, his cock already drenched in her juices. And then, he thrust, pulling her down at the same time.
Hermione hadn’t been sure if she was ready, but when he entered her, she realized that she probably would have never been ready if he hadn’t just taken the initiative. She gasped quickly and then moaned slowly as he filled her to the hilt. Okay, so maybe he was bigger than she was used to after all. If not thicker than most certainly longer. She swore she’d never been penetrated so deeply before. How he even fit within her was beyond her knowledge, certainly the pressure she was feeling inside of her was him knocking on her cervix. While it hurt just a bit, it was more exciting than anything.
She leaned in, capturing his lips as she began to move on top of him, rocking in the familiar way that she knew would bring them both pleasure. She started out slow, still recovering from her orgasm just minutes ago.
"Fucking hell, Granger..." Draco gasped against her lips, eyes closed as he enjoyed the simple euphoria of their joining. Her gentle, slow movements were almost tender and... He wasn't sure how to handle it but to hold her against him and revel in it.
His mind and body finally reconnected, and he thrust upwards, into the perfect glove of her pussy. She wrapped around him just right and caressed him like warm silk, and it was... brilliant.
A soft moan escaped her with the movement of his hips. The sharp stab was oddly pleasant, and encouraged her body to move with a little more force, seeking the sensation again. It was new, and it was thrilling. “Oh, Merlin,” she sighed between heavy breaths that matched her movements. Just a few minutes in and Hermione Granger was already becoming increasingly aware that sex could actually better than what she’d known, limited knowledge though it was.
"Fuck, Granger," Draco whispered against her lips, breathless himself. "You're... fuck, so good..." He could barely form a coherent sentence with her silky walls wrapped around his cock like that.
Quickly, he turned the tables, flipping them and putting her on her side. He lifted Hermione's leg and hooked it over his shoulder, straddling the other as he slid home again with a throaty, needy groan, and began pumping into her with long, firm strokes. "Oh, that's... That’s brill..." He murmured, feeling himself bottoming out against her womb with each thrust. But he didn't care, it felt too good, and she seemed to love it.
He was exactly right, she did love it. The change in position was exciting, especially because it was something entirely new for Hermione. He seemed to have the skill to go along with his alleged experience, and she was grateful, it was a nice change from a couple of inexperienced young men.
She embraced it, letting her enjoyment out with gasps, moans, and small cries. She hadn’t realized that entirely different positions would feel so incredibly different.
And Draco fed on that, driving into her more rapidly, thrusting harder, faster, his eyes rolling. She was driving him mad, her amazing body, her perfect pussy... A stream of swears poured from his lips as he drove into her, letting go of all reason and restraint, as she so often seemed to make him do. Their hatred had driven them together inexplicably; but maybe that hatred was just passion.
Hermione couldn’t keep track of her own pleasure. What felt like an orgasm now felt like a constant, climax after climax overlapping each other. She was exhausted, and thrilled, and in this moment she didn’t have a regret in the world. She called his name, gasping out the feeling that she couldn’t do any more, repeating the words “I can’t, I can’t” in between. Hermione wasn’t sure if it was possible for there to be too much of a good thing, but that was what this felt like now, as though if it didn’t end soon, she didn’t know what would happen.
Draco slid his leg over Hermione's, twisting her back onto her back and keeping her leg over his shoulder. Unable to resist himself as he neared his end, he kissed her; deep and hard and bruising. His thrusts became harsher, deeper, until finally he drew back throwing his head back with a roar of pleasure that bordered on victorious. He was cumming, hard, and after a few pumps managed to think to pull out. His seed oozed from her ravaged pussy, shot onto her stomach, her thigh, and even her groin. He didn't care where it landed, was merely disappointed he'd allowed his good sense to take hold instead of filling her; again and again…
It was exactly the kind of scene she expected to see in a romantic comedy, where the clear sexual tension between two rivals finally takes over, and a heated, passionate love making takes place. Of course, she wasn’t sure if she’d call this making love. There could be passion without love, couldn’t there?
Hermione laid underneath him, panting, her chest covered in sweat, and the lower half of her covered in his cum. It’d been warm, a delightful feeling, an expression of what she could make his body do. “Wow,” she gasped.
Draco felt drained and spent all of a sudden, collapsing gracelessly on his side next to Hermione. Her cotton sheets itched his skin, but he didn't care. But he had to laugh, breathlessly, from his powerful release. Months of celibacy and then... that.
It had been incredible.
"Wow," He repeated, just as breathless, laying his arm lazily across Hermione's waist. There was no other word to describe what had just happened.
Hermione began to laugh lightly, the movement shaking her whole body as she laid flat on the mattress. “That was really stupid,” she commented, though her laugh showed that she wasn’t entirely bothered by that fact. She’d just had sex (amazing, mind blowing sex), with Draco Malfoy! Hell had certainly frozen over.
Sober, he might have taken offense to that. But Draco wasn't sober, and he was too wrapped up in post-coital bliss to be offended. He chuckled with her, running his hand over her abdomen and smearing his seed into her skin absently.
"Mmm, stupid, yeah." He chuckled along with her. "But it was bloody brilliant." And, in a sense, inevitable.
Hermione chuckled as well, enjoying the feeling of even just his light touch. “Of course it was,” Hermione tried to restrain a giggle. She was aware again that she was still drunk. “It was my idea, after all.” He had offered up such a compliment just a half hour or so ago, had he not?
Draco paused a moment, before her words fully sank in, and he chuckled dryly. "See, now it's getting to your head." He huffed, opening his eyes to observe her, to see her in her own post-coital bliss. She was still sexy when freshly ravished, damn it. "A big ego doesn't befit you, Granger." He added almost playfully.
Turning slightly onto her side to face him, Hermione smirked. “You’re right, there’s not enough room in here with yours I nearly forgot,” she teased him. She was beginning to realize that she enjoyed their banter. Had she possibly just been too angry to recognize that it wasn’t necessarily hatred that had them going at each other all the time?
"Now you're getting it, luv." Draco chuckled, pulling her closer with his arm, not caring that his seed smeared into his own skin in the process. He just felt the urge to have her close right now.
Hermione had never expected Draco to be a cuddler, but she had no complaints on the matter as she nestled up next to him. Her sweaty body stuck to his, and she enjoyed it. It’d never been this easy with Ron. Even though his parents were okay with them spending the night together, it’d always been awkward, and having sex under their roof, with permission (more like the deliberate illusion of ignorance from his parents) or not, just felt wrong. But she and Draco had the right kind of privacy to make her feel like she could lay their forever, which, she had every reason to do, as they were in her bed.
“Do you think they did it on purpose?” Hermione asked after a moment of comfortable silence, in which she’d replayed the events of the christmas party they’d attended together not hours ago.
"Hmmm?" Draco responded initially, lifting his head as he'd begun to doze. But, when her words sank in, he snorted. "I doubt it. I can't imagine the Professors are keen on getting anyone laid. Maybe they wanted some show of a truce or some bloody bullocks..." He grumbled, burying his nose into Granger's hair and inhaling her sweaty scent. It was better than he'd ever dreamed; and oh had there been dreams.
A shake of the head revealed her take on that. “No, I didn’t mean this. I just meant… Do you think they saw something in us that we didn’t even recognize?” Like their chemistry, for one. “I mean, it is odd, right? That they’d feed us all that wine and champagne and we’d suddenly find ourselves under mistletoe that I swear was not there to begin with.”
Draco hummed at that, one hand roaming the young woman, exploring her, memorizing her. "Dunno." He finally answered, sighing through his nose. Her stockings felt heavenly on his fingers, soft and silky, and he felt like drifting off again. "I don't remember seeing the mistletoe either. But I can't imagine the Professors pushing us together either way."
Hermione loved the feeling of Draco’s gentle touch on her leg, caressing the nylon teasingly. She brought one leg up, crossing it over his leg and testing the sensation of rubbing her stockinged leg against his own. It was a very minimal gesture, but it felt nice.
“You’re right, that’s just silly. They wouldn’t possibly…”
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A Very Dramione Holiday