http://leviosa-spell.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
leviosa-spell.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2006-08-18 02:10 pm
leviosa-spell.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-08-18 02:10 pm
Log; Completed
When; August 10th, No Self-Restraint Day (yeah, we've been busy... don't shoot us >>)
Rating; NC-17 for explicit sexual content
Characters; Draco, Hermione
Summary; It's no self-restraint day, so what else do you expect? Booze. Sex. Mmyes.
Log;
Her steps were light, but fast-paced, as Hermione trekked up the long path leading to the Carousel. She had attempted various times earlier in the day to locate Draco, but to no avail; the Opera House was simply too vast. After several minutes, Hermione had finally relented, feeling incredibly impatient, and chose instead to converse with others to pass the time. However, after a particularly disturbing interchange with a vampire in the city, Hermione had quickly retreated to the agreed meeting place.
And there she sat, eyes occasionally drawn back to her watch—he was already ten minutes late—and foot jiggling nonstop. If Draco didn't arrive soon, Hermione wasn't sure what she'd do; the ticking that was reaching her ears was steadily increasing in volume, and there was no one around to help her get rid of it. Her brow creased, marring her otherwise smooth face, and her lips tautened as Hermione leaned back against the base of the Carousel, the movement vibrating into her back and music causing her hair to stand on end.
"Where is that dolt?" she whispered to no one in particular.
Anyone who had spent a reasonable amount of time in the city would have said that the carousel was the worst place to be meeting someone, especially since it was the source of the ticking, but neither of the two had been here long enough to figure it out.
Truth be told, Draco had been avoiding Hermione in the Opera House with a simple tracking charm, but it wasn't really that hard to get lost in the maze of levels, ropes, levers, and old stage sets. Malfoys were not supposed to wake up feeling like not one good wank, but several would be necessary if he was going to be walking anywhere that day. However, he couldn't help feeling an intense desire to get laid, and not only that, but do it fall-down drunk. With anyone he came into contact with.
It had certainly taken a large amount of self-will to keep from molesting all the women and attractive men he passed on the street, but he managed to get to their meeting spot without doing anything too demeaning. He had also had to flee from a mob of rampaging... whatevers, and a rabbit that was doodling on everything in sight. Yup, the centre of the city really hadn't been a good idea for a meeting spot.
But he managed to make there intact. As he got closer, he slowed from his jog to a slower saunter that would hopefully convince Granger that he wasn't quite as harried as he felt. Not only did /he/ feel like attacking anyone that came near, everyone else seemed to feel the same way, and in a large scale of things Draco was quite aware that he was very much prey.
A thin eyebrow arched as Hermione noticed the pale blond hair in her peripheral vision, the calm gesture masking the sudden quickening of her heartbeat. The young witch stood up slowly, a feeble attempt to calm down her excited nerves, and gazed languidly into the wizard's eyes as she made her way to meet him halfway in between, hips swinging subtly in a manner that normally would have mortified her.
Hermione was very much aware of the strange occurrences that had taken place throughout the day, and a decent number of people had in fact warned her to be careful and not make any rash actions, but the curse had completely obliterated any inhibitions fluttering around in her mind. It was indeed fortunate that Hermione had yet to experience anything particularly worth regretting, as she, throughout the day, had run mostly into people who were not under the influence. Well, then again, given her current state, she had yet to feel it especially fortunate.
Eyes slowly scanning over Draco's body, allowing her to notice small details she had never cared for in the past, Hermione's lips curled up into a devilish grin as she delicately folded her arms across her chest, coming to a stop once she was within arm's reach of the man opposite her. Cocking her head to the side, she finally opened her lips to speak, the tone of her voice low and sultry.
"You're late, Mr. Malfoy."
It was impossible to keep Draco's eyes from raking up and down Hermione's form, and he licked his lips as they approached each other. He was practically quivering with the effort of hold himself back from just tackling her to the ground and 'having his way with her', as the old romances described it. Certainly, he had never been attracted to her before. She wasn't his type of woman - too self-sufficient. However, it was impossible to ignore, now that his hormones were given full reign of his body.
"Hope you weren't fretting, Granger," he purred, as per usual. Only someone very close to him would have been able to see this reserve as any more precarious than his usual reserve. Perhaps following up on this meeting had been a bad idea. Perhaps he should have just locked himself in his room.
...But then again, he couldn't take his eyes off where her cleavage showed above her folded arms. She was definitely doing that on purpose. What was a 16 year old boy to do?
"Although if you'd like to get on your knees to show your appreciation for my showing up, I wouldn't say no."
Well, so much for keeping one's mouth safely shut.
A small voice in the back of her head told her to act indignant, to refuse to allow Draco to get the upper hand of her like he had. Getting on her knees? It was preposterous. Hermione highly doubted that, under normal circumstances, she would even indulge such a request from Harry or Ron, let alone Draco Malfoy. She stepped yet closer, eyes peering directly into Draco's as she bit her lip, close enough to feel his breath against her skin. "Me? Get down on my knees?" she asked, a clear challenge in her voice. "Not likely."
Heavens, but she had never noticed just how attractive he actually was from this distance. His usually well-slicked hair was just a bit dishevelled, presumably from wind or some type of rush on his part, and the thought of him hastening to meet up with her tickled Hermione senseless. His skin was so smooth and pale, not pasty, but more of a fine tone akin to porcelain dolls -- and Hermione couldn't help wondering what it would feel like to mar that perfect complexion. It was just too good to waste on a boy like that.
The grin had disappeared, now replaced by a lustful stare as Hermione's lips quivered, mere centimetres away from Draco's own. Her hands began to move in spite of herself, settling lightly on Draco's thin hips, fingers splayed across the fabric of his trousers, gaze following to glance over his attractively slim figure. The warning signs were flashing madly in the back of her mind; after all, this was Malfoy she was with. Being in close proximity to her best friends' worst enemy? No doubt a very bad idea. But as she peered once more at Malfoy, eyes closely examining the light grey facets of his irises, all her hesitance vanished. To the devil with inhibitions.
"Perhaps it is you, Draco, who ought to get on your knees to apologize for your tardiness... I wouldn't mind that."
Draco was fair quivering with the effort of holding himself back from doing something they would both regret come morning. It was, after all, hard work being a Malfoy and he had plenty of practice with-holding from himself intense desires. Besides - even if he was horny, that didn't mean he couldn't feel revulsion at the thought of sleeping with Hermione Granger.
Sure, she had developed curves over the years, and her defiance was certainly arousing, not to mention in addition to her obvious attraction to him, and she was looking very, very kissable at the moment...
He caught himself mere millimetres away from her lips and jerked back, terrified.
What had he been thinking?! Sex?! With Granger?!
The City might make him want to have sex with anything on two feet, but he had known her for how many years?! A few years of being forced to live in each other's company might change their opinions of each other, but as far as Draco was concerned, it couldn't make him have sex with the one female he had been forced to come second to and mocked for the entirety of his school career. And it wasn't even enough hate to make him swing entirely the other way! Perhaps he should go find Potter's look-alike father...
But no. The matter at hand. Dealing with a rabid Granger. Right.
"I don't think so," he heard himself saying, as if at a distance. "Maybe we should go get something to drink?"
The startled movement of Draco's jolt was finally able to bring some of Hermione’s own senses back. Her eyes widened as she noticed that her hands had been slowly snaking up Draco's shirt, running along rippled muscles that she never knew even existed under his billowing robes. Well, she supposed that all that Quidditch had to have meant something...
Lips pursing with slight disappointment as she retracted her hands and attempted to calm her jarred nerves down, Hermione paused for a moment, lips parting in thought, running her thin fingers through her hair, and digesting the offer that Draco had just made. Get something to drink? Well. It seemed innocent enough.
"S-sure," Hermione stammered, "A drink sounds... nice."
Her eyes glanced back up at Draco, but flitted away as she realized that the more she looked at him, the more the energy boiling inside of her seemed to overcome her reason and judgment...
She couldn't understand it. This was Draco Malfoy standing in front of her. The one man who had tormented her throughout the years for her family background. He'd said unforgivable things and, quite frankly, should've been the last person on her list that Hermione would ever find herself attracted to.
But, then again, given their rather interesting conversation a few days ago... Hermione could no longer be so sure that she knew the real Draco Malfoy. After all, he'd mentioned that his alliances were purely out of need, not of want, and--
Too much thinking, Hermione.
"Let’s go, then."
Grabbing Hermione by the elbow, Draco immediately set out in hopes of finding somewhere a little out of the way. He could hear screams and cries somewhere down the road, and he didn't want to get caught up in whatever it was that was going on. He heard screams like that in his fucking nightmares, he didn't need to experience them in real life again any time soon.
He had been thinking coffee at first, but now he was feeling like a little firewhiskey or wine or something would be much better. Then he could forget that this had ever happened.
They made it to the pub he had spotted on the way here, and banged his way inside - not that anyone already there noticed. It seemed like this curse day had inspired many others to the same end as it had him. Hopefully the stupid mudblood wouldn't throw up a fuss, because being the only female in the room was definitely not the greatest position to be in.
Hermione had very nearly lost her balance at the sudden tug on her arm, and she had just opened her mouth to protest when she began to notice the tumult in the background, shrieks and yells that sent shivers up her spine. Deciding to forego her comfort for the moment, she hastened her steps to keep up with Draco's pace, not even noticing the setting that they were entering until they were already well inside.
The only place Hermione had been to that at all resembled this one was the Hog's Head, which had already been enough to cause her great discomfort and unease. However, this pub was decidedly shoddier and more rowdy; men all around were brawling, having completely lost their self-restraint, and to make things even worse, some had even begun to leer at Hermione, eyes gleaming with desire. Hermione didn't enjoy revealing her weaknesses around Draco, but her fear was too great, and with a small gasp she reached out for his arm, clinging tightly to it as she allowed him to continue to lead the way.
Fortunately, she had brought her wand. She was hoping that at least that would do her some good.
With steeled resolve, wanting to prove that she wasn't simply a do-gooder, Hermione sat down next to Draco, senses still keenly aware of her surroundings but not quite as wary as before.
The booth afforded them a little protection from the seemingly continuous brawl that was taking place, so Draco merely sat, watched (one of his great talents, it seemed) and waited for a lull long enough to move his way through the mess of broken tables and chairs to the bar. He took one long look at the bartender, who looked like he wouldn't be getting up any time soon and slipped behind the counter to grab a few bottles at random along with two heavy-bottomed glasses.
It was like walking through traffic - he waited for a moment of quiet before darting through the moving bodies and managed to make it back to the corner only slightly ruffled.
Dumping a bottle in front of her, he claimed one for himself and immediately started pulling the top off for himself.
"Right," he said after finally getting some poured into a glass and settled into a seat. "You wanted to talk about something?"
Her eyes followed Draco closely, hands mimicking his actions as she poured some of the liquid into the cold glass. After pausing a few moments--Hermione hadn't much experience with alcohol, after all--she threw her head back and downed a good portion of the glass, enjoying the warmth that slid down her throat and settled in her body. Perhaps this was a good idea, after all.
"Not anything very specific," Hermione replied, eyebrow arching once more. Her foot jiggled under the table impatiently; for some reason, she didn't seem to want to stay still tonight. Nevertheless, she placed the glass gently back on the table and rested her chin on her hand, looking Draco straight in the eye. "I just felt bad about always coming to rash conclusions about you. I know that we haven't had the nicest of acquaintanceships, but after what you said that day..."
Hermione hadn't been able to get it out of her mind, the fury and anxiety in Draco's words as he explained to her the true reason for his siding with Voldemort. She knew that she had ample reason to doubt him; Draco had never done much to give her any inclination to trust him, after all. But something told her that his words hadn't been a lie. That he wasn't the completely despicable person she had first taken him for.
"I think I judged you far too much. You're not the person everyone told me that you were, and I shouldn't have..." She sighed, growing immensely frustrated at her inability to piece the words together. "I know that I already apologised earlier, but I wanted to do it in person."
She wasn't sure why she was saying these words as she lifted her glass to drain the remainder of its contents. Perhaps it was the alcohol, which was sending surges of courage through her veins, or perhaps it was the damned curse, bringing out and amplifying her innate desire to make amends with someone who she newly discovered wasn't simply a lost cause. Tentatively, she reached out for his hand, lightly brushing against it to hopefully draw his attention to her words.
"Please accept my apologies?"
Draco raised his eyebrow in response to how easily Hermione tossed back that drink, but then found it impossible to keep from starting on his own. The liquid was harsh on his tongue, but good for his head. Not thinking would be a very good idea.
"Apologies accepted," he said mildly, not really paying much attention. He had long ago gotten over the thought that no one had any desire to get to know him outside his own house. After all, those who ended up in Slytherin inevitably knew what he experienced in relation to his own family.
After a second drink, he had a hard time remembering why he had even bothered to invite her out, other than to drink and perhaps flirt a bit. Verbal flirting for now, though he couldn't say that he would be able to resist any other advances she made on him if they were persistent ones. And from the way her hand was resting on his, it definitely looked like she wasn't done advancing yet.
"Anything else you want to get off your chest?"
The glass had just met her lips as Draco spoke up once more, with what Hermione took as a stab to continue the rather stagnant conversation. She took a moment to take another sip of her drink--which, alarmingly, was already her third--before placing the glass back on the table, eyes squinting slightly as she searched her mind for any coherent thoughts. She couldn't come up with much.
Hermione shook her head, a few wisps of hair moving out of place and settling around her face. "Not really..."
Swaying a bit, Hermione turned her attention back to the hand under her own, vaguely noticing how large it was in comparison to her own and stretching her hand out to compare. She hazily noticed that the small distance separating them seemed to have diminished a rather large amount, but wasn't inclined enough to change that fact.
A sudden question slipped from her lips. "What's it like...?"
"Hm?"
Hazily Draco noticed that half of his bottle was gone, and so was half of Hermione's, but that didn't stop him from taking another drink of the throat-burning liquid. That didn't stop him from dropping his shoe off his foot and brush the side of his foot against her leg. It seemed as the day went on the curse only got worse. Either that or his will was giving way to the desire to have sex with anything moving.
He lifted his hand from the table and pressed it flat against hers, noticing the difference in colors and lengths.
"What's what like?"
Hermione moved her hand just enough to entwine her fingers in his own before turning her gaze back to Draco, a fascinated expression on her face. The way Draco had so fleetingly brushed his foot against her leg had not gone unnoticed; rather, the brief contact sent shivers up her spine, only heightening her desires. Slowly, she raised her free hand to brush away her hair, then leaned closer to Draco, as it to make a point.
She could smell the scent on alcohol on his breath, and Hermione was barely able to tear her gaze away from Draco's lips--which looked so very soft and tantalizing--before staring once more in those pale grey eyes.
"Being intimate with one Draco Malfoy."
Her grip tightened slightly on his hand as she watched him, lips curling into a small grin.
Draco would have blushed, had he been more sane. As it was, he merely smiled back, eyes flickering between her (very close) lips and (very bright) eyes.
And then it all went to hell, because he kissed her. It was brief and wet and tasting of whiskey, but it was something that would have made him disgusted to even think about back home. This place did things to your brain, no doubt about it. Pulling back, he smirked a little more and looked at her from behind some stray hair.
"Like that, only more."
He wouldn't have admitted in a million years how that kiss had absolutely inflamed his brain and made it nag in a very annoying voice: More more more more more.
Hermione's eyes closed at the contact, the heat in her cheeks increasing as her heart leapt with excitement, but it was over all too soon as Draco pulled back. A little voice in the back of her head protested at the short but intimate act--after all, this was a Malfoy she was kissing--but the sound of his low drawl quickly suppressed that irritating voice as her lashes lifted to allow their gazes to meet once more.
"More?" she asked, voice breathy but imbued with lust.
She'd only had a taste. It wasn't nearly enough.
Shifting to provide easier access, Hermione extracted her hand from Draco's and lifted both arms, curling them around Draco's neck and meeting his lips with urgency. Her tongue tentatively slipped in between his lips, enjoying the taste of the kiss, heady with alcohol but still carrying a very distinct flavor. Pressing herself against the warmth of his body, Hermione slowly moved herself onto Draco's lap, the din of their surroundings becoming a mere blur in the shadows of her mind.
A very small voice in Draco's head that was getting smaller by the second protested against the disgusting act of making out with a mudblood in the middle of a filthy bar while drunk, but none of those rational arguments really seemed to hit home. The animal, so carefully kept caged for so long, was now quite happily metaphorically roaming free.
That would probably explain how his hands had gotten up her shirt.
And then down to her ass, pulling her quite close indeed, close enough that he could feel her breasts pressing against his chest as he enthusiastically returned the increasingly tongue-filled kiss. His brain was already figuring out a way to either find a wall to fuck her up against (a very poor idea and quickly dropped), a way to clear the table of the glass to fuck her there (although decidedly kinky, also dropped due to the slight creepiness caused by the voyeurs), or a way to get back to his room in the Opera House (difficult).
And yes, he wanted to fuck her. What was the world coming to? said the now mouse-sized squeak in his head, and then went silent.
Her hands were running along Draco's shirt, running thin fingers along his ridged muscles and teasing at his sides, slowly moving up to unbutton the starched shirt as her eyes hungrily traveled over the newly exposed skin. Her breathing having turned quite ragged and uneven, Hermione nuzzled close to Draco's neck, tongue running along his smooth skin. She gasped as his hands traveled up her spine, dangerously close to the clasp of her bra, and a thick whisper escaped from her lips.
"Oh, Draco..."
She wanted him. For now, it didn't matter that he was one of the people she had despised most, didn't matter that he was a Slytherin who wanted nothing to do with the likes of her, all that Hermione cared was the feel of his body against hers, and their tongues entwining perfectly in rhythm.
However, she was beginning to notice more and more pairs of gleaming eyes...
Already weak with desire, Hermione trembled while pressed to his chest, murmuring softly into the shell of his ear. "Ought we Apparate somewhere more... private?"
They always did say that it was the quiet ones you had to watch out for.
"Sounds like a plan," he replied, voice low and rough when he was given room enough to breathe.
Unfortunately, he had never really actually been allowed to pass his Apparition exam, being underage the year that he had... run away.
"But you're going to have to get up first."
He tried to sound distaining, he really did. It just came out... sexy. He was definitely going to be bashing his head against a wall when morning came around, but right now he didn't really notice. Getting to a bed sounded like a really, really good idea.
"And what if I refuse?"
Hermione tightly grasped Draco's hand and readied herself to Apparate; she wasn't entirely sure where Draco's room was, unfortunately, but she at least she knew where the Opera House was, and taking the both of them there herself was preferable to risking the chance of Draco erring in the process. Provided Hermione didn't take them somewhere where another inhabitant of the House would be watching, of course.
Which, fortunately, she did not. With a loud pop and a rather unpleasant squeezing sensation, both of the teens suddenly appeared, sitting on the ground in a vacant, shadowed hallway, without a trace of company around. Glad that neither of them had been splinched in the process, Hermione simply stared at Draco, the collar of her shirt now hanging off her shoulder, and her eyes silently asking: what next?
Landing a few feet down in the middle of a dusty hallway wasn't really that romantic, but it would have to do. Scrambling to his feet, he snatched at Hermione's hand and started dragging her in what he thought would probably be the direction towards the back of the Opera House and his chambers.
His memory did not let him down and he didn't run into anyone, thankfully, because he couldn't explain what was happening to himself, let alone someone else.
The rooms were "shabby elegant" as his mother probably would have described them, the heavy red velvet drapes dusty as they hung on either side of the huge windows, a vanity table that had been recently whipped down on one side of the room and a large four-posted bed with slightly tattered hangings sitting on the other. The sheets were clean, though, and the mattress was full of fresh down.
Now it was simply a matter of making good use of it.
Hermione's mind subconsciously tried to memorize the path they were taking--first a right, then two lefts, and after passing the large antique vase, yet another right--but upon realizing that she didn't really even know how to get to their starting point, she gave up and simply rushed as Draco pulled her hastily along. Her eyes briefly scanned the room, taking in rather nice décor before the other teen had decided to take things into his own matters and help her onto the bed.
Before she had time to gather her thoughts, he was straddling her, kissing her with such ferocity that all Hermione could do was moan into his lips, reaching around his neck and running her fingers through his hair. Clearly, he knew what he was doing, and Hermione could only try her best to keep up, hastily pulling at his shirt and removing it as well as her own, before arching her back so that she could meet his warmth, flesh to flesh.
"Please," she breathed between gasps, "I want... I need... now."
"Yeah," Draco gasped in reply, sliding his hands under her to pull off the always-frustrating bra. After tossing it to the side, his hands pressed over the paler skin, almost as pale as his own, teasing the erect nipples inquisitively before returning to the task at hand.
Pants needed to be removed. Now.
It was a struggle to get them both off while trying not to break contact in the mouth area, or even any other area of skin, but it happened eventually. Draco groaned loud and hard as he pressed his hips hard against hers, demanding but not taking quite yet. Pregnancy would be a Bad Thing. Too bad he had never really paid attention when the other girls had dealt with it.
"Do you know the infertility charm?" he panted out, sliding a hand through her hair as he stroked her hip, unable to keep himself from rubbing his erection against her leg just a little.
Her eyes had glazed over, skin feeling as though it were afire as Draco's hands roved, thumbs running along her perked breasts as his tongue continued to entwine with her own. Hermione's nerves tingled at his touch, heat pooling in her abdomen as his length brushed along the side of her leg, causing a shiver to spread throughout her body. When he broke away to run his fingers through her hair and the rushed question slipped from his lips, Hermione's instinct was to continue going, but she swallowed thickly before giving a coherent answer.
"I vaguely remember it," she replied uncertainly. She had come across the charm in the midst of all her schoolwork in past years, but she had never believed it to be necessary to learn, let alone memorize it properly. However, with her almost photographic memory, Hermione was fairly sure...
But as Draco's erection passed so near the desired area once more, Hermione's eyes widened and she let out a small whimper. "Draco... please..."
"Do it now," Draco ordered in a tone that not only brokered no argument, but also had a tinge of urgency to it.
Turning on her side, Hermione reached for the clothes that they had so hastily tossed aside, fingers closing around the cool surface of her wand for a few brief moments, the surface warming as she whispered the spell breathily and felt a shiver pass through her frame. Once it had passed, she turned on her back again, breathing bated with expectancy.
That was all the sign that Draco needed - he was sane enough not to want a pregnancy on his hands, but he was horny enough to ignore all else. He pushed her legs to either side of his knees and found her slick enough and entered with a completely unhesitant thrust. The feeling made his already-drunken head swim with the pleasure and he was giving in to instinct before he could even think about doing otherwise.
"Oh, Merlin," he moaned, resting their foreheads together for a brief moment, strands of pale white-blond hair sticking to the sweat on his face. "Bloody hell, Hermione," he gasped, quite unaware that it was probably the first time he had ever used her first name out loud. It was so fuckin' sexy, although he couldn't point out anything in particular that was more attractive than any other woman, and he couldn't stop keeping up with this lovely, lovely friction.
The first thing that Hermione felt was the pain searing through her body, nearly sending her into convulsions as tears rose to her eyes and her fingernails bit into the hard shoulders above her. She was given a slight reprieve as she felt the pressure of Draco's forehead on her own, but not even half a minute passed before it all began again, the thrusts deeper and more intense than before as Hermione threw her head back, hips lifting to ease the motions, rocking against Draco's in the process.
Her arms snaked around his neck as she lifted her head to sob raggedly in his shoulder, a loud gasp escaping her lips with each push, the sting mixing with new waves of pleasure as she shifted to meet him each time. Thighs clenching, Hermione was unable to contain a loud moan as she felt herself burning, felt herself nearly falling over the edge.
"Oh god, Draco" she whimpered softly, tears streaming down her face, "I can't... I can't hold on much longer..."
The lust blinding him to his partner's pain, Draco continued, gritting his teeth as he threatened to be overcome with pleasure. It was so - so good... Not much by way of coherent thought was going on at the moment. Leaning down, not stopping or slowing his motions in the least, he pressed their lips together, hot and open-mouthed and slightly frantic.
A few soft cries into her mouth were all that signified the spilling of his seed as he came, thrusts slowing and eventually ceasing.
Hermione gasped as she felt the warmth spread within her, back arching at the delicious sensations before a spasm passed through her body, causing her muscles to convulse before she fell back upon the bed, breathing heavily and completely drained of energy. Eyelashes fluttering, a soft murmur passed through her lips, still containing traces of the passion that had been just a few seconds earlier.
"Merlin, that was..."
Raising a trembling hand to brush away at Draco's stray bangs, Hermione had strength enough only to offer a weak, satisfied smile.
Slumping down, collapsing in on himself, Draco buried his face in the crook of her neck after a soul-shivering sigh of completeness.
"Good," he agreed quietly as his mental systems methodically shutting down and sleep came galloping in. "Good..."
Rating; NC-17 for explicit sexual content
Characters; Draco, Hermione
Summary; It's no self-restraint day, so what else do you expect? Booze. Sex. Mmyes.
Log;
Her steps were light, but fast-paced, as Hermione trekked up the long path leading to the Carousel. She had attempted various times earlier in the day to locate Draco, but to no avail; the Opera House was simply too vast. After several minutes, Hermione had finally relented, feeling incredibly impatient, and chose instead to converse with others to pass the time. However, after a particularly disturbing interchange with a vampire in the city, Hermione had quickly retreated to the agreed meeting place.
And there she sat, eyes occasionally drawn back to her watch—he was already ten minutes late—and foot jiggling nonstop. If Draco didn't arrive soon, Hermione wasn't sure what she'd do; the ticking that was reaching her ears was steadily increasing in volume, and there was no one around to help her get rid of it. Her brow creased, marring her otherwise smooth face, and her lips tautened as Hermione leaned back against the base of the Carousel, the movement vibrating into her back and music causing her hair to stand on end.
"Where is that dolt?" she whispered to no one in particular.
Anyone who had spent a reasonable amount of time in the city would have said that the carousel was the worst place to be meeting someone, especially since it was the source of the ticking, but neither of the two had been here long enough to figure it out.
Truth be told, Draco had been avoiding Hermione in the Opera House with a simple tracking charm, but it wasn't really that hard to get lost in the maze of levels, ropes, levers, and old stage sets. Malfoys were not supposed to wake up feeling like not one good wank, but several would be necessary if he was going to be walking anywhere that day. However, he couldn't help feeling an intense desire to get laid, and not only that, but do it fall-down drunk. With anyone he came into contact with.
It had certainly taken a large amount of self-will to keep from molesting all the women and attractive men he passed on the street, but he managed to get to their meeting spot without doing anything too demeaning. He had also had to flee from a mob of rampaging... whatevers, and a rabbit that was doodling on everything in sight. Yup, the centre of the city really hadn't been a good idea for a meeting spot.
But he managed to make there intact. As he got closer, he slowed from his jog to a slower saunter that would hopefully convince Granger that he wasn't quite as harried as he felt. Not only did /he/ feel like attacking anyone that came near, everyone else seemed to feel the same way, and in a large scale of things Draco was quite aware that he was very much prey.
A thin eyebrow arched as Hermione noticed the pale blond hair in her peripheral vision, the calm gesture masking the sudden quickening of her heartbeat. The young witch stood up slowly, a feeble attempt to calm down her excited nerves, and gazed languidly into the wizard's eyes as she made her way to meet him halfway in between, hips swinging subtly in a manner that normally would have mortified her.
Hermione was very much aware of the strange occurrences that had taken place throughout the day, and a decent number of people had in fact warned her to be careful and not make any rash actions, but the curse had completely obliterated any inhibitions fluttering around in her mind. It was indeed fortunate that Hermione had yet to experience anything particularly worth regretting, as she, throughout the day, had run mostly into people who were not under the influence. Well, then again, given her current state, she had yet to feel it especially fortunate.
Eyes slowly scanning over Draco's body, allowing her to notice small details she had never cared for in the past, Hermione's lips curled up into a devilish grin as she delicately folded her arms across her chest, coming to a stop once she was within arm's reach of the man opposite her. Cocking her head to the side, she finally opened her lips to speak, the tone of her voice low and sultry.
"You're late, Mr. Malfoy."
It was impossible to keep Draco's eyes from raking up and down Hermione's form, and he licked his lips as they approached each other. He was practically quivering with the effort of hold himself back from just tackling her to the ground and 'having his way with her', as the old romances described it. Certainly, he had never been attracted to her before. She wasn't his type of woman - too self-sufficient. However, it was impossible to ignore, now that his hormones were given full reign of his body.
"Hope you weren't fretting, Granger," he purred, as per usual. Only someone very close to him would have been able to see this reserve as any more precarious than his usual reserve. Perhaps following up on this meeting had been a bad idea. Perhaps he should have just locked himself in his room.
...But then again, he couldn't take his eyes off where her cleavage showed above her folded arms. She was definitely doing that on purpose. What was a 16 year old boy to do?
"Although if you'd like to get on your knees to show your appreciation for my showing up, I wouldn't say no."
Well, so much for keeping one's mouth safely shut.
A small voice in the back of her head told her to act indignant, to refuse to allow Draco to get the upper hand of her like he had. Getting on her knees? It was preposterous. Hermione highly doubted that, under normal circumstances, she would even indulge such a request from Harry or Ron, let alone Draco Malfoy. She stepped yet closer, eyes peering directly into Draco's as she bit her lip, close enough to feel his breath against her skin. "Me? Get down on my knees?" she asked, a clear challenge in her voice. "Not likely."
Heavens, but she had never noticed just how attractive he actually was from this distance. His usually well-slicked hair was just a bit dishevelled, presumably from wind or some type of rush on his part, and the thought of him hastening to meet up with her tickled Hermione senseless. His skin was so smooth and pale, not pasty, but more of a fine tone akin to porcelain dolls -- and Hermione couldn't help wondering what it would feel like to mar that perfect complexion. It was just too good to waste on a boy like that.
The grin had disappeared, now replaced by a lustful stare as Hermione's lips quivered, mere centimetres away from Draco's own. Her hands began to move in spite of herself, settling lightly on Draco's thin hips, fingers splayed across the fabric of his trousers, gaze following to glance over his attractively slim figure. The warning signs were flashing madly in the back of her mind; after all, this was Malfoy she was with. Being in close proximity to her best friends' worst enemy? No doubt a very bad idea. But as she peered once more at Malfoy, eyes closely examining the light grey facets of his irises, all her hesitance vanished. To the devil with inhibitions.
"Perhaps it is you, Draco, who ought to get on your knees to apologize for your tardiness... I wouldn't mind that."
Draco was fair quivering with the effort of holding himself back from doing something they would both regret come morning. It was, after all, hard work being a Malfoy and he had plenty of practice with-holding from himself intense desires. Besides - even if he was horny, that didn't mean he couldn't feel revulsion at the thought of sleeping with Hermione Granger.
Sure, she had developed curves over the years, and her defiance was certainly arousing, not to mention in addition to her obvious attraction to him, and she was looking very, very kissable at the moment...
He caught himself mere millimetres away from her lips and jerked back, terrified.
What had he been thinking?! Sex?! With Granger?!
The City might make him want to have sex with anything on two feet, but he had known her for how many years?! A few years of being forced to live in each other's company might change their opinions of each other, but as far as Draco was concerned, it couldn't make him have sex with the one female he had been forced to come second to and mocked for the entirety of his school career. And it wasn't even enough hate to make him swing entirely the other way! Perhaps he should go find Potter's look-alike father...
But no. The matter at hand. Dealing with a rabid Granger. Right.
"I don't think so," he heard himself saying, as if at a distance. "Maybe we should go get something to drink?"
The startled movement of Draco's jolt was finally able to bring some of Hermione’s own senses back. Her eyes widened as she noticed that her hands had been slowly snaking up Draco's shirt, running along rippled muscles that she never knew even existed under his billowing robes. Well, she supposed that all that Quidditch had to have meant something...
Lips pursing with slight disappointment as she retracted her hands and attempted to calm her jarred nerves down, Hermione paused for a moment, lips parting in thought, running her thin fingers through her hair, and digesting the offer that Draco had just made. Get something to drink? Well. It seemed innocent enough.
"S-sure," Hermione stammered, "A drink sounds... nice."
Her eyes glanced back up at Draco, but flitted away as she realized that the more she looked at him, the more the energy boiling inside of her seemed to overcome her reason and judgment...
She couldn't understand it. This was Draco Malfoy standing in front of her. The one man who had tormented her throughout the years for her family background. He'd said unforgivable things and, quite frankly, should've been the last person on her list that Hermione would ever find herself attracted to.
But, then again, given their rather interesting conversation a few days ago... Hermione could no longer be so sure that she knew the real Draco Malfoy. After all, he'd mentioned that his alliances were purely out of need, not of want, and--
Too much thinking, Hermione.
"Let’s go, then."
Grabbing Hermione by the elbow, Draco immediately set out in hopes of finding somewhere a little out of the way. He could hear screams and cries somewhere down the road, and he didn't want to get caught up in whatever it was that was going on. He heard screams like that in his fucking nightmares, he didn't need to experience them in real life again any time soon.
He had been thinking coffee at first, but now he was feeling like a little firewhiskey or wine or something would be much better. Then he could forget that this had ever happened.
They made it to the pub he had spotted on the way here, and banged his way inside - not that anyone already there noticed. It seemed like this curse day had inspired many others to the same end as it had him. Hopefully the stupid mudblood wouldn't throw up a fuss, because being the only female in the room was definitely not the greatest position to be in.
Hermione had very nearly lost her balance at the sudden tug on her arm, and she had just opened her mouth to protest when she began to notice the tumult in the background, shrieks and yells that sent shivers up her spine. Deciding to forego her comfort for the moment, she hastened her steps to keep up with Draco's pace, not even noticing the setting that they were entering until they were already well inside.
The only place Hermione had been to that at all resembled this one was the Hog's Head, which had already been enough to cause her great discomfort and unease. However, this pub was decidedly shoddier and more rowdy; men all around were brawling, having completely lost their self-restraint, and to make things even worse, some had even begun to leer at Hermione, eyes gleaming with desire. Hermione didn't enjoy revealing her weaknesses around Draco, but her fear was too great, and with a small gasp she reached out for his arm, clinging tightly to it as she allowed him to continue to lead the way.
Fortunately, she had brought her wand. She was hoping that at least that would do her some good.
With steeled resolve, wanting to prove that she wasn't simply a do-gooder, Hermione sat down next to Draco, senses still keenly aware of her surroundings but not quite as wary as before.
The booth afforded them a little protection from the seemingly continuous brawl that was taking place, so Draco merely sat, watched (one of his great talents, it seemed) and waited for a lull long enough to move his way through the mess of broken tables and chairs to the bar. He took one long look at the bartender, who looked like he wouldn't be getting up any time soon and slipped behind the counter to grab a few bottles at random along with two heavy-bottomed glasses.
It was like walking through traffic - he waited for a moment of quiet before darting through the moving bodies and managed to make it back to the corner only slightly ruffled.
Dumping a bottle in front of her, he claimed one for himself and immediately started pulling the top off for himself.
"Right," he said after finally getting some poured into a glass and settled into a seat. "You wanted to talk about something?"
Her eyes followed Draco closely, hands mimicking his actions as she poured some of the liquid into the cold glass. After pausing a few moments--Hermione hadn't much experience with alcohol, after all--she threw her head back and downed a good portion of the glass, enjoying the warmth that slid down her throat and settled in her body. Perhaps this was a good idea, after all.
"Not anything very specific," Hermione replied, eyebrow arching once more. Her foot jiggled under the table impatiently; for some reason, she didn't seem to want to stay still tonight. Nevertheless, she placed the glass gently back on the table and rested her chin on her hand, looking Draco straight in the eye. "I just felt bad about always coming to rash conclusions about you. I know that we haven't had the nicest of acquaintanceships, but after what you said that day..."
Hermione hadn't been able to get it out of her mind, the fury and anxiety in Draco's words as he explained to her the true reason for his siding with Voldemort. She knew that she had ample reason to doubt him; Draco had never done much to give her any inclination to trust him, after all. But something told her that his words hadn't been a lie. That he wasn't the completely despicable person she had first taken him for.
"I think I judged you far too much. You're not the person everyone told me that you were, and I shouldn't have..." She sighed, growing immensely frustrated at her inability to piece the words together. "I know that I already apologised earlier, but I wanted to do it in person."
She wasn't sure why she was saying these words as she lifted her glass to drain the remainder of its contents. Perhaps it was the alcohol, which was sending surges of courage through her veins, or perhaps it was the damned curse, bringing out and amplifying her innate desire to make amends with someone who she newly discovered wasn't simply a lost cause. Tentatively, she reached out for his hand, lightly brushing against it to hopefully draw his attention to her words.
"Please accept my apologies?"
Draco raised his eyebrow in response to how easily Hermione tossed back that drink, but then found it impossible to keep from starting on his own. The liquid was harsh on his tongue, but good for his head. Not thinking would be a very good idea.
"Apologies accepted," he said mildly, not really paying much attention. He had long ago gotten over the thought that no one had any desire to get to know him outside his own house. After all, those who ended up in Slytherin inevitably knew what he experienced in relation to his own family.
After a second drink, he had a hard time remembering why he had even bothered to invite her out, other than to drink and perhaps flirt a bit. Verbal flirting for now, though he couldn't say that he would be able to resist any other advances she made on him if they were persistent ones. And from the way her hand was resting on his, it definitely looked like she wasn't done advancing yet.
"Anything else you want to get off your chest?"
The glass had just met her lips as Draco spoke up once more, with what Hermione took as a stab to continue the rather stagnant conversation. She took a moment to take another sip of her drink--which, alarmingly, was already her third--before placing the glass back on the table, eyes squinting slightly as she searched her mind for any coherent thoughts. She couldn't come up with much.
Hermione shook her head, a few wisps of hair moving out of place and settling around her face. "Not really..."
Swaying a bit, Hermione turned her attention back to the hand under her own, vaguely noticing how large it was in comparison to her own and stretching her hand out to compare. She hazily noticed that the small distance separating them seemed to have diminished a rather large amount, but wasn't inclined enough to change that fact.
A sudden question slipped from her lips. "What's it like...?"
"Hm?"
Hazily Draco noticed that half of his bottle was gone, and so was half of Hermione's, but that didn't stop him from taking another drink of the throat-burning liquid. That didn't stop him from dropping his shoe off his foot and brush the side of his foot against her leg. It seemed as the day went on the curse only got worse. Either that or his will was giving way to the desire to have sex with anything moving.
He lifted his hand from the table and pressed it flat against hers, noticing the difference in colors and lengths.
"What's what like?"
Hermione moved her hand just enough to entwine her fingers in his own before turning her gaze back to Draco, a fascinated expression on her face. The way Draco had so fleetingly brushed his foot against her leg had not gone unnoticed; rather, the brief contact sent shivers up her spine, only heightening her desires. Slowly, she raised her free hand to brush away her hair, then leaned closer to Draco, as it to make a point.
She could smell the scent on alcohol on his breath, and Hermione was barely able to tear her gaze away from Draco's lips--which looked so very soft and tantalizing--before staring once more in those pale grey eyes.
"Being intimate with one Draco Malfoy."
Her grip tightened slightly on his hand as she watched him, lips curling into a small grin.
Draco would have blushed, had he been more sane. As it was, he merely smiled back, eyes flickering between her (very close) lips and (very bright) eyes.
And then it all went to hell, because he kissed her. It was brief and wet and tasting of whiskey, but it was something that would have made him disgusted to even think about back home. This place did things to your brain, no doubt about it. Pulling back, he smirked a little more and looked at her from behind some stray hair.
"Like that, only more."
He wouldn't have admitted in a million years how that kiss had absolutely inflamed his brain and made it nag in a very annoying voice: More more more more more.
Hermione's eyes closed at the contact, the heat in her cheeks increasing as her heart leapt with excitement, but it was over all too soon as Draco pulled back. A little voice in the back of her head protested at the short but intimate act--after all, this was a Malfoy she was kissing--but the sound of his low drawl quickly suppressed that irritating voice as her lashes lifted to allow their gazes to meet once more.
"More?" she asked, voice breathy but imbued with lust.
She'd only had a taste. It wasn't nearly enough.
Shifting to provide easier access, Hermione extracted her hand from Draco's and lifted both arms, curling them around Draco's neck and meeting his lips with urgency. Her tongue tentatively slipped in between his lips, enjoying the taste of the kiss, heady with alcohol but still carrying a very distinct flavor. Pressing herself against the warmth of his body, Hermione slowly moved herself onto Draco's lap, the din of their surroundings becoming a mere blur in the shadows of her mind.
A very small voice in Draco's head that was getting smaller by the second protested against the disgusting act of making out with a mudblood in the middle of a filthy bar while drunk, but none of those rational arguments really seemed to hit home. The animal, so carefully kept caged for so long, was now quite happily metaphorically roaming free.
That would probably explain how his hands had gotten up her shirt.
And then down to her ass, pulling her quite close indeed, close enough that he could feel her breasts pressing against his chest as he enthusiastically returned the increasingly tongue-filled kiss. His brain was already figuring out a way to either find a wall to fuck her up against (a very poor idea and quickly dropped), a way to clear the table of the glass to fuck her there (although decidedly kinky, also dropped due to the slight creepiness caused by the voyeurs), or a way to get back to his room in the Opera House (difficult).
And yes, he wanted to fuck her. What was the world coming to? said the now mouse-sized squeak in his head, and then went silent.
Her hands were running along Draco's shirt, running thin fingers along his ridged muscles and teasing at his sides, slowly moving up to unbutton the starched shirt as her eyes hungrily traveled over the newly exposed skin. Her breathing having turned quite ragged and uneven, Hermione nuzzled close to Draco's neck, tongue running along his smooth skin. She gasped as his hands traveled up her spine, dangerously close to the clasp of her bra, and a thick whisper escaped from her lips.
"Oh, Draco..."
She wanted him. For now, it didn't matter that he was one of the people she had despised most, didn't matter that he was a Slytherin who wanted nothing to do with the likes of her, all that Hermione cared was the feel of his body against hers, and their tongues entwining perfectly in rhythm.
However, she was beginning to notice more and more pairs of gleaming eyes...
Already weak with desire, Hermione trembled while pressed to his chest, murmuring softly into the shell of his ear. "Ought we Apparate somewhere more... private?"
They always did say that it was the quiet ones you had to watch out for.
"Sounds like a plan," he replied, voice low and rough when he was given room enough to breathe.
Unfortunately, he had never really actually been allowed to pass his Apparition exam, being underage the year that he had... run away.
"But you're going to have to get up first."
He tried to sound distaining, he really did. It just came out... sexy. He was definitely going to be bashing his head against a wall when morning came around, but right now he didn't really notice. Getting to a bed sounded like a really, really good idea.
"And what if I refuse?"
Hermione tightly grasped Draco's hand and readied herself to Apparate; she wasn't entirely sure where Draco's room was, unfortunately, but she at least she knew where the Opera House was, and taking the both of them there herself was preferable to risking the chance of Draco erring in the process. Provided Hermione didn't take them somewhere where another inhabitant of the House would be watching, of course.
Which, fortunately, she did not. With a loud pop and a rather unpleasant squeezing sensation, both of the teens suddenly appeared, sitting on the ground in a vacant, shadowed hallway, without a trace of company around. Glad that neither of them had been splinched in the process, Hermione simply stared at Draco, the collar of her shirt now hanging off her shoulder, and her eyes silently asking: what next?
Landing a few feet down in the middle of a dusty hallway wasn't really that romantic, but it would have to do. Scrambling to his feet, he snatched at Hermione's hand and started dragging her in what he thought would probably be the direction towards the back of the Opera House and his chambers.
His memory did not let him down and he didn't run into anyone, thankfully, because he couldn't explain what was happening to himself, let alone someone else.
The rooms were "shabby elegant" as his mother probably would have described them, the heavy red velvet drapes dusty as they hung on either side of the huge windows, a vanity table that had been recently whipped down on one side of the room and a large four-posted bed with slightly tattered hangings sitting on the other. The sheets were clean, though, and the mattress was full of fresh down.
Now it was simply a matter of making good use of it.
Hermione's mind subconsciously tried to memorize the path they were taking--first a right, then two lefts, and after passing the large antique vase, yet another right--but upon realizing that she didn't really even know how to get to their starting point, she gave up and simply rushed as Draco pulled her hastily along. Her eyes briefly scanned the room, taking in rather nice décor before the other teen had decided to take things into his own matters and help her onto the bed.
Before she had time to gather her thoughts, he was straddling her, kissing her with such ferocity that all Hermione could do was moan into his lips, reaching around his neck and running her fingers through his hair. Clearly, he knew what he was doing, and Hermione could only try her best to keep up, hastily pulling at his shirt and removing it as well as her own, before arching her back so that she could meet his warmth, flesh to flesh.
"Please," she breathed between gasps, "I want... I need... now."
"Yeah," Draco gasped in reply, sliding his hands under her to pull off the always-frustrating bra. After tossing it to the side, his hands pressed over the paler skin, almost as pale as his own, teasing the erect nipples inquisitively before returning to the task at hand.
Pants needed to be removed. Now.
It was a struggle to get them both off while trying not to break contact in the mouth area, or even any other area of skin, but it happened eventually. Draco groaned loud and hard as he pressed his hips hard against hers, demanding but not taking quite yet. Pregnancy would be a Bad Thing. Too bad he had never really paid attention when the other girls had dealt with it.
"Do you know the infertility charm?" he panted out, sliding a hand through her hair as he stroked her hip, unable to keep himself from rubbing his erection against her leg just a little.
Her eyes had glazed over, skin feeling as though it were afire as Draco's hands roved, thumbs running along her perked breasts as his tongue continued to entwine with her own. Hermione's nerves tingled at his touch, heat pooling in her abdomen as his length brushed along the side of her leg, causing a shiver to spread throughout her body. When he broke away to run his fingers through her hair and the rushed question slipped from his lips, Hermione's instinct was to continue going, but she swallowed thickly before giving a coherent answer.
"I vaguely remember it," she replied uncertainly. She had come across the charm in the midst of all her schoolwork in past years, but she had never believed it to be necessary to learn, let alone memorize it properly. However, with her almost photographic memory, Hermione was fairly sure...
But as Draco's erection passed so near the desired area once more, Hermione's eyes widened and she let out a small whimper. "Draco... please..."
"Do it now," Draco ordered in a tone that not only brokered no argument, but also had a tinge of urgency to it.
Turning on her side, Hermione reached for the clothes that they had so hastily tossed aside, fingers closing around the cool surface of her wand for a few brief moments, the surface warming as she whispered the spell breathily and felt a shiver pass through her frame. Once it had passed, she turned on her back again, breathing bated with expectancy.
That was all the sign that Draco needed - he was sane enough not to want a pregnancy on his hands, but he was horny enough to ignore all else. He pushed her legs to either side of his knees and found her slick enough and entered with a completely unhesitant thrust. The feeling made his already-drunken head swim with the pleasure and he was giving in to instinct before he could even think about doing otherwise.
"Oh, Merlin," he moaned, resting their foreheads together for a brief moment, strands of pale white-blond hair sticking to the sweat on his face. "Bloody hell, Hermione," he gasped, quite unaware that it was probably the first time he had ever used her first name out loud. It was so fuckin' sexy, although he couldn't point out anything in particular that was more attractive than any other woman, and he couldn't stop keeping up with this lovely, lovely friction.
The first thing that Hermione felt was the pain searing through her body, nearly sending her into convulsions as tears rose to her eyes and her fingernails bit into the hard shoulders above her. She was given a slight reprieve as she felt the pressure of Draco's forehead on her own, but not even half a minute passed before it all began again, the thrusts deeper and more intense than before as Hermione threw her head back, hips lifting to ease the motions, rocking against Draco's in the process.
Her arms snaked around his neck as she lifted her head to sob raggedly in his shoulder, a loud gasp escaping her lips with each push, the sting mixing with new waves of pleasure as she shifted to meet him each time. Thighs clenching, Hermione was unable to contain a loud moan as she felt herself burning, felt herself nearly falling over the edge.
"Oh god, Draco" she whimpered softly, tears streaming down her face, "I can't... I can't hold on much longer..."
The lust blinding him to his partner's pain, Draco continued, gritting his teeth as he threatened to be overcome with pleasure. It was so - so good... Not much by way of coherent thought was going on at the moment. Leaning down, not stopping or slowing his motions in the least, he pressed their lips together, hot and open-mouthed and slightly frantic.
A few soft cries into her mouth were all that signified the spilling of his seed as he came, thrusts slowing and eventually ceasing.
Hermione gasped as she felt the warmth spread within her, back arching at the delicious sensations before a spasm passed through her body, causing her muscles to convulse before she fell back upon the bed, breathing heavily and completely drained of energy. Eyelashes fluttering, a soft murmur passed through her lips, still containing traces of the passion that had been just a few seconds earlier.
"Merlin, that was..."
Raising a trembling hand to brush away at Draco's stray bangs, Hermione had strength enough only to offer a weak, satisfied smile.
Slumping down, collapsing in on himself, Draco buried his face in the crook of her neck after a soul-shivering sigh of completeness.
"Good," he agreed quietly as his mental systems methodically shutting down and sleep came galloping in. "Good..."