She was crying again. Why was it that every time he came across her this year, she was crying? Didn't she have any pride? Who in their right mind would ever let anyone catch them sobbing over some destitute, ginger-haired tosspot? Draco knew he certainly wouldn't. Then again, she lived every day with that god-awful hair, maybe she was accustomed to having no dignity to speak of.
He was sick of finding her crying. It was obvious that she attempted to hide her sadness from her friends and from anyone who might read into why she was crying when she worked so hard on the façade of not giving two shits about Weaslebee dating the biggest tart in Gryffindor. The trouble was that hiding it meant she kept ending up in Draco's haunts within the castle - the places he went whenever he wanted to be alone - obviously knowing as well as he did no one else would be traversing these deserted corridors and high, dusty towers.
He'd caught her more than once, and given he preferred his solitude anyway - and that he'd no idea what to say to the crying mudblood - up until now Draco tended to turn and walk away rather than bothering with teasing her or even trying to get her to leave his haunts in peace. He'd leave her to her tears and her grief for a git who was positively gloating at her jealousy while he toyed with Brown. At least, that's how Draco saw it. The pair of idiots were crazy about each other but rather than admitting it, they'd resorted to ludicrous tactics to make each other jealous.
Draco thought it positively ridiculous, but who was he to tell idiotic Gryffindors they were making arses of themselves? It had never stopped them in the past, and he had far more important things to do this year than torment pathetic fools. Ordinarily, he'd just leave the pathetically sobbing mudblood alone, but something about the sight of her sitting there bawling her eyes out was enough to annoy him today.
"Get up," he commanded, storming towards her, fed up with her abominable self pity. He knew she'd probably heard - as the rest of the school had - that last night Weaslebee and Brown had done the dirty deed. Undoubtedly, the reason she was crying.
Draco watched her head jerk up, her expression one of fear and horror to have been caught crying, by him of all people.
"M-Malfoy?" she asked, scrambling to her feet and hurriedly trying to dry her tears on her scarf. It didn't help much since her face was red and puffy from crying.
"Clean yourself up," he snapped, stopping inside her personal space and glaring down his nose at her. She had her back pressed to the wall, staring at him wide-eyed and horrified. When she didn't move to do anything and looked at a loss regarding how she should clean herself up, Draco pulled out his wand and aimed it at her face, waving it silently until the evidence of her tears was all gone.
She drew her own wand in retaliation but when she didn't feel any effect of what he was doing to her, she didn't move to attack him. Draco pocketed his wand again and raised his eyebrows at her as he waited for her to do the same. She looked nervous as she stared up at him, but she slowly pocketed the weapon once more.
"You're sobbing over that ridiculous peasant? Again?" he demanded, leaning one hand against the wall by her neck, effectively boxing her in on one side. She looked wary, though he eyes flashed with pain and annoyance at his mention of Weaslebee.
"What I do is none of your business, Malfoy!" she snapped, her voice thick with the tears she'd been crying. "What are you even doing here? Come to rub it in?"
"Frankly Granger, I'm sick to death of finding you in all my haunts, sobbing over that pathetic ginger. It's beneath even you, and I'm going to make you stop."
Draco glared down at her.
He hated the little swot, but he would be lying if he were to say that she hadn't improved in the looks department over the years. She'd developed curves every bloke in Hogwarts wanted to get their hands on and she had the type of mouth blokes fantasized about. Not Draco, of course. He would never fantasize about snogging a mudblood. But that wasn't the point. The point was she needed to get over Weaslebee, and Draco had found that the best way to get over someone was to get under someone else.
"Excuse me?" she demanded, glaring now.
"This is the ninth time I've found you sobbing over that worthless git," Draco said. "And while I don't really care one way or the other what you barmy fools do with your time, you've developed a habit of only sobbing in the places I like to come to be alone. So it has to stop. And since I doubt you're going to simply avoid all the places I like to go, and it's unlikely that you'll just stop crying about it because I asked you to, I'm going to have to make you not want to cry about it anymore."
"Who do you think you…?" She began, fire flashing in those brown eyes but Draco cut her off before she could say anything else. Bringing his free hand up to tangle into her loose long hair, Draco leaned into her, pinned her to the wall with his body and brought his lips down on hers.
She made a noise of protest as he moved his lips over hers; her hands fisted in the fabric of his clothes as she tried to pull him off of her, but Draco ignored those things. He snogged her hard, sweeping his tongue against her lips and feeling them part of their own accord beneath his assault. She made another sound, this one a little more desperate than the last, almost as though she knew she was fighting a losing battle, and Draco felt a smirk curl across his lips for the first time all year.
It felt good to finally have something to smirk about again. Since he'd been given his Dark Mark all Draco had been able to think about was his looming task of killing Dumbledore. He was failing most of his classes as a result of the stress, and he barely slept. He knew he was struggling not only with the monstrosity of such a task as murdering the most powerful wizard alive, but also with the notion of killing at all.
It was one thing to mouth off about blood prejudice, and to torment mudbloods and blood traitors for their inferiority. It was entirely another to watch mudbloods and blood traitors being murdered, tortured and raped in his living room, or even the dungeons - and he'd been forced to watch. Draco really didn't care that much about blood purity. He didn't want to kill for it. He'd even found that Mudbloods like Granger had their uses.
After all, now that she'd stopped fighting him, she was proving all those blokes she'd been stringing along in an attempt to lash out at Weasley had been useful for one thing. They'd taught her to snog. In fact, she was rather good at it, he begrudgingly admitted when the grip she had on his clothing began being put to use to drag him closer to her.
Draco leaned into her harder, kissing her hungrily and swallowing the little whimper he elicited from her when he began to grind himself against her. Dragging open her school cardigan and her shirt, Draco relished the silky feel of her skin beneath his hands. He smirked wider when she arched into the touch, his hands cupping her breasts through the fabric of her bra.
When she dug her hands under the hem of his jumper and his shirt, Draco broke away from her mouth, kissing and nipping his way along her jaw and down the side of her neck. When she tipped her head back to give him better access, Draco knew he had her. She'd turned off that ridiculously clever brain and was simply feeling everything he did to her.
Some part of his subconscious warned that this was a bad idea. That hooking up with a mudblood was a sure-fire way to see himself disowned by his parents, and maybe even murdered by the Dark Lord, but right then Draco didn't really care about any of that. He was going to wind up dead when he couldn't kill Dumbledore anyway, and if there was one thing he was going to be proud of when he made his way to the afterlife it was going to be claiming Granger's V-card.
He didn't even bother with unclasping the boring white cotton bra she wore beneath her school shirt, choosing to simply pull it down to free her breasts, cupping them in his hands. She gasped at his cold hands, her nipples pebbling. Draco took his sweet time kissing his way down her chest before taking one into his mouth and toying with it.
He marvelled at how responsive she was as she arched into him. Having only hooked up with a few Slytherin slags in the past, Draco hadn't expected the fiery little lioness to be so in tune with his touch. He flicked his tongue over the bud of her nipple, nipping and suckling at the flesh and drawing little sounds of pleasure from her parted lips. She'd tangled her hands in his hair, pressing forward into his mouth, making him chuckle just a little as he moved to give her other nipple the same attention.
"Oh," she whimpered breathily when Draco let his hands trail lower, brushing up the back of her thighs beneath her skirt. Draco didn't doubt that Hermione Granger had well and truly forgotten what an arse Weaselbee was, but that wasn't about to stop him. He hadn't had a decent shag in a while and now that he knew what a dirty little minx she was, Draco was going to take full advantage of her distraction, and her willingness. When he encountered her knickers, Draco brushed his hands over them at the junction of her thighs and he grinned at the dampness there before he hooked his thumb into them and dragged them down her thighs, watching them fall to the floor to puddle around her ankles.
When he returned his hands to her slick pussy, she shuddered at the contact. Draco made sure to punctuate his two-fingered penetration of her with a firm tug on the nipple still in his mouth.
"Ah!" She moaned at the feel of his fingers slowly sinking into her tight passage, her body clutching at them greedily, letting him know she was almost ready for more. He'd never enjoyed being with a girl as much, Draco realised as he trailed a line of kisses over her milky skin, up her neck and back to her luscious mouth.
She snogged him enthusiastically this time, pulling him to her and opening to him without resistance. Draco grinned against her lips, his fingers pumping into her slowly while his free hand dealt with the fastenings on his trousers until he was free of them. He snogged her harder, distracting her as he slowly withdrew his fingers from her clutching pussy and lifted her skirt higher, hands urging her to cant her hips forwards to help him align his hard cock at her dripping entrance.
He didn't dare open his eyes or stop to ask her if she was sure she wanted to shag him. He didn't want to give her the chance to think or to turn him away now. Instead he lifted her left leg to curl it around his hip, opening her to him before he pushed into her slowly, being careful not to hurt her. He wanted to pleasure her, not brutalise her, and he knew without a doubt that it was her first time. She whimpered at the sting of being penetrated for the first time. Draco stopped allowing her to adjust to the unfamiliar intrusion for several torturous minutes before slowly drawing back, he began to roll her nipples between his fingers, drawing a ragged gasp from her and he kissed her neck hard enough to leave mark before he drove back in again, feeling a little extra wetness as his nipple-trick smoothed the path. He didn't want to tear anything or hurt her, no matter the number of times he'd done so verbally in the past. He wasn't a complete sadist.
"Argh!" She cried out softly at the sting when Draco buried himself to the hilt inside her, finally sheathing himself completely. Her nails bit into his hips and her teeth closed over his collarbone in protest to the apparent pain.
"Are you ok?" he breathed raggedly, trying his hardest to hold still until she grew accustomed to the intrusion of having him fully buried deep inside her. She whimpered in response, clearly beyond words. He waited several long moments, pressing little wet kisses to her neck hungrily, suckling against the flush and drawing the blood to the surface, marking her flawless skin with a collection of small love bites.
When her body unclenched slowly, Draco felt a smile slip across his face before he withdrew almost all the way and pushed in once more. He would never admit it out loud but she felt absolutely amazing, sheathing him completely. Her body clutched at his tightly, her passage wet and tight and hot, branding his cock with her heat. Draco had to bite his lip to keep from losing himself in the sensation before he could bring her off. And he would do so. He prided himself on his skill with women and he wasn't about to let Granger think he based his reputation on nought but lies.
He took his time ravishing her, scooping her up and urging her to wrap her legs around him, pressing her back against the wall when her knees buckled. She was totally lost to the sensation of him moving within her, and the feel of his lips and hands upon her body. Draco took great pleasure from the mewling, inarticulate sounds he drew from her lips with each high, deep thrust.
"Oh God, I…" she huffed, her hands clutching at his shoulders needily, her body tightening around his cock. Draco grinned, knowing she was close now. He quickened his pace, thrusting into her faster even as he stooped to capture one of her nipples in his mouth once more, drawing on her flesh greedily.
"I… Malfoy… I need…" she muttered and Draco nearly came undone at the breathy moan of his name curling off her tongue. He smirked against her neck as he delved his free hand between them to the top of her slit, his thumb pressing soft circles to her clit.
She shattered in his hold, her back arching, drawing him deeper; her body spasming and wringing every drop of pleasure from him as she pulled him over the edge along with her into orgasm. Draco groaned softly at the feeling of release as he gave her everything he had, feeling her shudder in his hold as her orgasm ripped through her.
Draco lifted his head from her neck slowly several minutes later. She was still clutching him, his cock still buried deep inside her, her arms and legs now wrapped tightly around his torso and clinging to him as though her life depended on it. He watched her face for a moment. She had her eyes closed, her head tilted back against the wall.
Her cheeks were flushed pink with exertion and perhaps a touch of embarrassment as the reality of what she'd just done with him began to settle into her brain. Her unruly hair had come undone of the its pins thanks to the way he'd had his hands in it. She looked well and truly shagged. Draco smirked at the sight of her so undone. He liked the look on Granger; it worked for her and brought out a beauty he hadn't expected in her.
Stepping back a little, Draco allowed her to unfurl her legs from around him, lowering her back to the floor easily and keeping his hands on her waist to steady her when her legs wobbled under her. She looked well ravished, that was certain. Her cardigan and her shirt hung open, her bra was pulled down beneath her breasts, allowing the pillowy globes of flesh to spill free. Her rumpled skirt kept her dignity, though the knickers puddled at her feet completed the look nicely. Her hair was a mess and her neck was dotted with the love-bites he'd left on her flesh. Her cheeks were flushed pink and when she slowly opened her cinnamon brown eyes, she looked torn between an expression of shame, guilt and bliss.
The whole picture made him want to fuck her all over again, though he knew that after the way she'd made him come he wouldn't be able to perform again for at least an hour.
"What have we done?" she murmured, finding her voice as she stared at him through half-lidded eyes, looking like she wanted to drop right off to sleep right there against the wall. Draco just smirked at her as he tucked himself back inside his trousers and refastened his belt, straightening his robes where she'd rumpled them.
She fell to the same fussing and Draco knew she felt awkward in the aftermath of having just shagged him. He was surprised to find that he didn't. He felt strangely peaceful, in a way he hadn't all year. He bit his lip on a chuckle when she blushed crimson before she bent to wiggle back into her pale blue knickers, watching her avoid his gaze, not knowing what to say.
When she leaned there against the wall looking off over his left shoulder and trying to pretend she hadn't just shagged the enemy, Draco reached out a hand towards her. Hooking his index under her chin, Draco tilted her head until she was forced to meet his gaze.
"You better not let me catch you crying in deserted corridors over Weaslebee again, Hermione," he murmured to her huskily. "Else you'll endure a repeat of this performance."
With that said and her eyes wide at the sudden reminder of how she'd wound up shagging him in the first place, Draco leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. He didn't linger over it, and he didn't snog her again. He simply brushed his lips against hers for a few chaste moments before he pulled away.
Letting his hand fall back to his sides, Draco flashed her a smirk before he turned and strolled away with more bounce in his step than he'd had all year. He didn't look back at her; he didn't turn to investigate the groan of frustrated horror she emitted. He simply strolled back through the castle with the intention of going to dinner, for the first time since returning to Hogwarts, actually feeling hungry enough to want to eat something.
When he strolled into the Great Hall he passed his godfather seated at the teacher's table, watching him closely, as always. And for the first time since he'd been given his Dark mark, Draco Malfoy couldn't keep the smile from his face, even knowing that his Godfather might interpret it as good news and pass along word to his parents and the Dark Lord that he'd had some kind of success toward his mission to kill Dumbledore.
None of that mattered right then. Draco knew he couldn't kill the meddlesome old fool, who was also eyeing him with some interest for his cheerful mood. He couldn't kill anyone, and that was okay.
"You look cheery," Blaise commented when he dropped into a seat beside him and noticed the way Draco had piled his plate with food. Draco cast a smirk at his oldest friend before his eyes were drawn to the doors of the Great Hall.
His grey eyes tracked the slightly awkward shuffle of Hermione Granger as she entered, her cheeks still flushed pink as though she was reliving what they'd done and couldn't stop thinking about it.
"Mate, this is the best day I've had all year," Draco admitted, watching Granger drop into a seat beside Potty and the She-Weasel, wincing a little at the tenderness he didn't doubt she was experiencing.
"Something going right with your mission?" Blaise asked, leaning in.
Draco laughed. He actually laughed, and Blaise wasn't the only one to look mildly startled to hear the sound after so long without it.
"Not a thing," he chuckled with a shake of his head. "In fact, I'm totally fucked."
Blaise stared at his quizzically when Draco chuckled at his own joke, but chose not to comment and Draco didn't elaborate. Instead he found his eyes drawn back to a certain messy-haired mudblood across the room, where he caught her staring at him. Her pink cheeks darkened to crimson once more when she realised she'd been caught looking and Draco couldn't help but laugh some more as he tucked into his chicken pie, feeling utterly famished for the first time in a long time.