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Portraits and Classrooms

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The first time anything happened was unexpected. They had been walking along the third floor corridor during prefect rounds. To say they were having a friendly conversation would be an overstatement. In fact, both prefects seemed to have somehow mastered the art of having a full blown argument in hushed tones. They had entered the Charms classroom under Malfoy’s insistence that he heard voices, to Hermione’s disagreement. Upon entering the empty room, much to his chagrin his face had turned an unnatural shade of red as Hermione had begun to lecture him. After trying unsuccessfully to end her verbal assault he resorted to physical means. She was at the point of telling him that he should have Madam Pomfrey check his hearing when he had walked deliberately over to her like a predator stalking its prey. Before she knew what was happening, Hermione found herself sandwiched between the wall and Malfoy’s body. His lips descended on hers without hesitation, effectively silencing her tedious rant. The kiss was rough and demanding. She had tasted annoyance and determination on his lips. It lasted no more than ten seconds but it might as well had been hours to Hermione. She detected another emotion that she couldn’t quiet place; whatever it was it stirred something deep within her. Upon pulling away, he had smirked at her before turning and striding out the door leaving her alone to try and process what had just taken place. A peculiar blush accompanied her to all lessons in Classroom 2E from that day onwards. Like a venomous snake, he had struck with deadly accuracy, sinking his fangs deep before slithering away to await the inevitable.

The second incident happened 3 weeks later. They had been doing their rounds as usual with the exception of a feeling of awkwardness from Hermione. The first incident had replayed itself countless times in her head and as such she was on her guard. Malfoy on the other hand seemed completely un-phased, carrying about with his usual arrogant self and seemingly oblivious to the sudden skittish nature of his fellow prefect. Climbing the stairs silently, they nearly reached the landing when the four massive copper and gold bells of the clock tower chimed to signal that half the hour had gone. Being so focussed on Malfoy’s every movement, the sudden loud noise startled Hermione and caused her to miss the final step up to the fifth floor. The outcome was a rather undignified squeal that scared Timothy the Timid from his portrait as she lost her balance. Further humiliation was prevented by Malfoy’s quick reflexes in securing an arm around her waist and lifting her onto to safety of the wide corridor. While calming her frantic heart she had held onto his arms tightly. Realizing that she was still in his embrace she had gone rigid before looking up. The dull light emanating from their wands was enough to illuminate his features, his blond hair falling like a halo around his head. His grey eyes, slightly obscured by a few stray locks, looked black as the pupils dilated. Without thought, she had loosened her death grip on his arms, raising one hand to lightly brush the fringe from his eyes; and for a moment she became lost in their depths. They seemed to be drawing her in. The moment was lost however, by the appearance of Peeves who decided to cover the sleeping occupants of no less than 3 portraits in a slimy goo lower down the corridor. The outraged occupants’ shouts brought them back to the present and it was only then that Hermione realized that she had been standing on her toes in an effort to close the gap between herself and Malfoy who, for the record, had his head tilted slightly downward. They sprang apart and without a word, hurried down the corridor to deal with the poltergeist.

By the third incident, Hermione was positive that there was definitely something more than bickering between them. This time on the seventh floor; having just finished their patrol of the North Wing they were making their way along the Fat Lady’s Corridor when Malfoy declared that he would be taking a break before heading back down to the dungeons. The clock tower had just chimed the eleventh hour and Hermione had unconsciously followed him into a nearby classroom. She had refrained from chastising him for the misuse of their privileges by staying out longer than necessary. Malfoy had made his way to the front of the room and plopped himself onto the Professor’s chair, placing his feet upon the desk in the process. Hermione had cautiously approached and, emboldened by his now closed eyes leaned over to study his features. One second she had been a hair’s breadth away from lightly tracing the line of his jaw and the next she’d found herself sitting in his lap, wrist clasped firmly in his hand. Eyes boring into hers, he silently dared her. Throwing sanity out the window she had crushed her lips to his, confidence she didn’t fully possess, guiding her actions. He had responded immediately, a battle for dominance ensuing as he’d tangled his fingers in her hair, holding her steady. Imprisoned by his arms she had submitted, allowing him to drag from her as much pleasure as he could. Many minutes later they had pulled apart, red-faced and winded, reality slowing creeping back in. They had said goodnight then, both exiting Classroom 7C. Hermione had made her way to the portrait of the Fat Lady while Malfoy disappeared behind the portrait of the pure-blood witch, Elizabeth Burke.

A couple weeks later, after a few more snogging sessions, sometimes even in the midst of their nightly rounds, there was no doubt left in Hermione’s mind. They had an unspoken agreement of sorts, that whatever this was it would remain hidden in the dark corridors and empty classrooms of the castle. It was on a particularly chilly Thursday night near the end of October when things had progressed to something a bit more than heavy snogging. Having bent and broken a few rules in the last month, Hermione had become somewhat bold in their night-time affections; something that Malfoy didn’t mind in the least. She had been pressed up against the hand rails of the Grand Staircase with his tongue in her mouth and her hands tangled in his hair. In one move, Malfoy had taken a step beyond their normal boundary by placing his hands below her robes and dragging them up under her shirt. Her gasp had broken their kiss and she locked eyes with him before hearing a voice. There, hanging on the wall behind Malfoy was the portrait of a red-haired witch looking quite disapprovingly at them. Being the ever naughty Malfoy, he had pulled Hermione away from the hand rail and pushed her up directly against the red haired witch’s frame. The horrified woman had fled her portrait as he’d proceeded to snog Hermione senseless while his hand ventured beneath her skirt.

The last encounter had been a turning point for them both. Now, for two nights a week, every week, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy diligently patrolled the corridors. They were, ruthless not even hesitating to deduct points from their own houses whenever a student was found out after curfew. The more students out of bed, meant the longer the wait before they could indulge in each other. This night, after deducting points from none other than Harry Potter, they had made their way into the Arithmancy classroom. Malfoy had wasted no time in coaxing Hermione onto Professor Vector’s desk where he lay her down on her back. He had then used a spell to slice her shirt open so his hands could explore the contours of her body unobstructed. He’d made his way slowly down her body and when his head disappeared between her legs he was forced to use a sticking charm to keep her hands pinned above her head. Ignoring her protests he had then vanished her knickers and begun to pleasure her with his mouth. The result was a gasping, moaning Hermione, writhing under his relentless onslaught. He’d released the sticking charm non-verbally mere seconds before she had clamped her thighs around his head, fisted her hands in his hair and came on his wicked tongue. Their rendezvous was interrupted shortly thereafter by the appearance of Mrs Norris who strutted into the room and hissed at them. A Reparo had mended Hermione’s clothing and they’d quickly made their way from the classroom before Filch could catch them.

It was now the final week in November and Hermione felt bold. She had woken up with an air of confidence that she never wielded before. Draco Malfoy had been heading to the Great Hall for lunch when a hand reached out from behind the portrait of Mirabella Plunkett. The hand grabbed his robes and he was yanked into a hidden passage. Wand at the ready with a nasty hex on the tip of his tongue; he was shocked to see none other than Hermione Granger. Slightly confused, he had been unprepared for her attack. She’d hastily shoved him back against the wall and kissed him hard. The surprise had caused him to drop his wand. Never before had she taken control like that, much less in broad daylight. As though in a hurry, her lips had moved to his neck and begun to trail downwards as her hands fumbled with his trousers. All questions died on his lips the moment her hand made contact with the evidence of his arousal. She had stroked him a few times before dropping to her knees and taking him in her mouth. Malfoy was forced to bite down on his tongue in an effort to keep quiet as he heard a group of students pass mere feet from them. Entranced by her movements and feeling himself on the edge, he had thread his fingers through her hair and given a slight warning tug. To his complete wonder and delight she continued with urgent fervour and so he had released himself violently into her waiting mouth. Unable to move he had stood there as she pulled away gently and rummaged behind her before placing something in his hand. She’d then stood up and secured a bag he failed to notice before on her shoulder while he fixed his clothing. Peering cautiously from behind the portrait, she had finally turned to look at him; smiling and pink cheeked she’d left him alone. He’d waited until the portrait closed again before crumbling to the floor with the taste of blood in his mouth. Looking down he’d finally noticed his wand now clasped safely in his hand.

Hermione’s daring act three days prior had started a challenge. Not one to be outdone, Malfoy devised a plan that he had just been given the opportunity to implement. Wary glances were thrown their way when it was announced that for today’s Potions class they were to be partners. Given that their late night adventures were unknown to all but themselves and the portrait of the red haired witch, their classmates were understandably expecting the worst. Malfoy’s sneer had scared away most of the looks thrown their way but it was only when the class begun that everyone’s attention was successfully diverted. About twenty minutes into the brewing of their potion he decided to act. His hand had slithered under her skirt with ease; their robes having been removed for the lesson. Hermione had faltered in her addition of the horned slugs nearly adding 1 too many to the bubbling cauldron. Casting an alarmed look his way, she’d noticed a blank expression on his face as he appeared to be reading the instructions. Thankful that their workbench was situated at the back of the class, Malfoy slid his hand higher until he’d found his target. Without missing a beat he stimulated her and it wasn’t long before he expertly bypassed her knickers and slipped his finger inside her. Sometime between then and the addition of the porcupine quills he had added a second finger and cast a Muffliato around them as Hermione had begun to whimper. He played her with skill and it wasn’t long before he’d had to place his free hand over hers to guide her in stirring counter-clockwise as she began to spasm around his clever fingers. The class had ended with a whispered Finite as Harry and Ron made their way over to their breathless companion. She’d locked eyes with him one last time before exiting with her friends only to gasp as he’d placed his fingertips into his mouth and smirked at her.

Their challenges had continued and before they knew it, they were accosting each other in various locations around the castle and even the grounds of Hogwarts. Their encounters were now no longer confined to the dark nights. As intimate as they had become with each other physically, nothing had appeared to change unless one was looking specifically for a difference. Almost to the end of December, students were to depart for the Christmas holidays tomorrow. The diligent prefects had continued their nightly patrols while engaging a banter that was now mutually understood as verbal foreplay. Feeling especially daring Hermione had chosen to poke at a particularly embarrassing moment in the blonde Slytherin’s past; his forced transfiguration into a furry rodent in fourth year. They had just passed the portrait of Merwyn the Malicious on the third floor landing when, unknown to her, Malfoy had tensed at the mention of the incident. As they made their way to the Serpentine Corridor, she had continued to jab at his pride by insinuating that the slap she had dealt him in their third year had in fact knocked the manliness from his person and as a result he now possessed masochistic tendencies. Hermione had barely managed to finish her sentence before Malfoy had shoved her against the wall having had enough of her taunts. After been attacked in this way quite frequently in the past she felt no alarm, instead excitement coursed through her veins. She had quickly realized however that there was something different about this encounter. The raw need she felt when his lips had claimed hers left her knees weak. His tongue had demanded entry into her mouth as though physically proving to her that he was not a submissive.
Hermione was powerless to resist Malfoy as he braced her against the wall. Not that she would have denied him if given a choice. Their first time was impulsive, he had taken her roughly right there in the open hallway near the entrance to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Years of rivalry had built up a sexual tension that culminated in a frenzied animalistic desire. Not a second was wasted as he'd claimed her against the cold stone. Consumed by passion they had no time to divest; instead, trousers were strategically unbuttoned and knickers were shoved to the side. He had buried himself in her as she’d wrapped her legs around his waist. She'd been taken with bruising force, fingers clawing at his clothed back as he marked her as his own. The act had been desperate and hurried, leading to an explosive climax with Malfoy's hand clamped over Hermione's mouth in an effort to muffle her pleasured screams at the point of completion. Then, spent and sated, they had simply righted their clothing and finished their rounds before heading to bed. That was the last time Hermione had seen him for the year.

The couple weeks away from each other had lead to some startling conclusions for both students. Hermione had had time to accept that she had actually shagged Malfoy. Of course they had fooled around many times before but the actual carnal act had never happened until that day. And then he had left to return home the next day. Malfoy on the other hand, spent much of his limited free time thinking about what had happened. He questioned his reasons and could not come up with a sensible explanation as to why he had even indulged Hermione in the first place. In the end he had concluded that bearing the burdens accompanied with serving the Dark Lord had severely affected his mental abilities. Three days before the start of the new term, Malfoy was walking along a corridor in the Manor when he noticed a portrait of one of his ancestors. The sight of the portrait itself brought forth the memories he had tried to repress while at home. Memories that involved a certain Muggleborn and the activities in which he had engaged in with her in plain view of many Hogwarts portraits. He knew it would not last and whatever arrangement they had was simply a way to past the time. Unwilling he was to accept that something more lingered in the back of his head and that she was the only reason he seemed to remain sane throughout the term.

In January classes were back in session and both prefects were back to their duties. Harry was now truly convinced that Malfoy was a Death Eater and plotting something and had tried to get Hermione to spy for him seeing as they shared prefect rounds. Hermione had denied any illicit activity on Malfoy’s part since the only blasphemous thing she knew he was doing was pleasuring her in the corridors and classrooms. She had been careful not to touch on the ‘Death Eater’ part of Harry’s theories when she realized that she had never seen Malfoy’s exposed forearm. They had never seen each other completely without clothes even when they had shagged. Placating Harry was exhausting work especially with balancing studies and prefect duties. It seemed that both Hermione and Malfoy made use of each other to relieve their stress and frustrations. It made for passionate encounters with deeply satisfying results. On one particular occasion, she had been in the library studying with Harry and Ron when she decided to go and locate a book for her Ancient Runes assignment. She was in an empty row near the back of the library not commonly used with the portrait of Valeria Myriadd hanging on the far wall. She just attained a book above her head when arms were wrapped around her from behind. Startled she the book had fallen with a muffled thud raising a small cloud of dust. His scent had reached her quickly and she instantly relaxed into Malfoy’s embrace. He took the opportunity to run one of his hands up under her shirt while the other travelled down below her skirt. Things had progressed quickly thereafter, much like their first. This time however, Hermione had managed to unbutton Malfoy’s shirt before attempting to remove it completely. Instead, he had dropped to the ground and pulled her down onto him while he in turn spelled her own shirt open. She ended up straddling him while his shirt lay halfway off and bunched up at his elbows. He lavished kisses over her exposed chest as she fiddled with his trousers before growing frustrated and ripping them open. There, in the middle of the library with her friends studying nearby, Hermione had shagged Draco Malfoy on the floor as he leaned back and she braced her hands against the bookshelves; the Ancient Runes text lay forgotten on the dusty floor.

Their meetings now consisted of a routine shag. Almost every corridor and class she had now held a blush-worthy memory for Hermione. Their first two times were both rushed and so it was only fitting that the third be different. They had once again found themselves on the third floor only this time they managed to go into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Malfoy had taken his time, paying extra attention to what Hermione enjoyed the most. Each action was deliberately slow. He had kissed her leisurely and passionately while she sat on Professor Snape’s desk, taking time to strip the clothes from their bodies, one article at a time. When all their clothes were gone, her gaze had fallen to his now bare forearms. A shocked gasp had escaped her lips as her eyes rested on the serpent entwined around a skull. They both froze at that moment with Malfoy standing in front of her. She knew she should have pushed him away and ran, Malfoy even expected it. But instead she met his now guarded gaze with her own before reaching up and pulling him into a gentle kiss. Her acceptance made him relax and it wasn’t long before they were both sprawled on the desk. His calculated caresses drove her insane with need but when he buried himself in her warmth, he set a devastatingly slow pace. He kept this pace for what felt like hours to Hermione, even when she demanded more he denied her what she craved; choosing instead to prolong the experience and heighten her pleasure. It was only when she felt like she would lose her mind that she had done something she never thought she would do. Hermione Granger had begged; she’d begged Malfoy to give her what she wanted. Later she would remember the fleeting look of shock that crossed is face, as though he had wanted but never expected her to do such a thing. It lasted barely a second before he schooled his features and obliged by increasing his pace. The aftermath had been a tangle of limbs atop the desk as both individuals tried to regain control of their breathing. Hermione had looked up at the chandelier while absently stroking her fingers through Malfoy’s hair as he lay on top of her. There was only the sound of their breathing; despite everything that happened between them, they never spoke of it afterwards. Casual conversation was still a foreign concept and despite the questions burning at the back of her throat, she remained silent. Secretly, she suspected Malfoy was thankful for that.

Perhaps even more surprising was the fact that she never told Harry that Malfoy was a Death Eater. Whenever the topic arose she would simply deflect by chastising him about his studies. Hermione and Malfoy continued to liaise around the castle. With each passing week they knew that it would not last and so they tried to get the most from it as possible. They had become a bit careless in their routine at times that lead to minor issues. Some of these included a scene caused by the portrait of a pureblood wizard near the dungeons who began shouting obscenities at them when Malfoy had begun a snogging session with Hermione in front of him. The man had awoken to find the spectacle and was only silenced when Malfoy had pushed Hermione into a dark corner before turning to face him. Upon realizing exactly which Slytherin he had been shouting at he apologized. Malfoy had continued to engage him, allowing Hermione ample time to leave undetected. It was a stroke of luck that her face had not been seen although they were positive that at least half the portraits in the castle knew about them by now. Another noteworthy experience had been when they ventured out to the area in which Care of Magical Creatures was taught. It was a freezing night in mid-February when they decided to take their adventures away from the castle. This would not have been much of an issue if it wasn’t for the fact that they had shagged on the snow covered ground and in their haste had neglected to use warming charms. The result was a very embarrassing trip to the Hospital Wing where they fabricated an unconvincing explanation for Madam Pomfrey as to why they were sporting frostbite in rather odd places.

Their fun would come to an end soon and in a most unexpected way for Hermione. It was now the beginning of May and over the past couple weeks she had noticed that Malfoy seemed to be more troubled than usual. Their night-time exploit this night had felt more like a goodbye than anything else and Hermione could not shake the feeling that something definitely wasn’t right. For the first time ever, Malfoy had spoken after their encounter before they had parted ways. It had been only a single word ‘Sorry’, mumbled almost incoherently but she had heard it. She had decided then that something was wrong. Unknown to him she pretended to head to her Common Room before doubling back. She followed him up to the seventh floor and down the left corridor. The feeling of unease ever present, she felt her heart racing as she saw him stop at the stretch of blank wall and pace 3 times. The door to the Room of Requirement appeared together with a sinking feeling in her chest as he disappeared inside. She hid in the shadows and waited; however when the door reappeared the person or rather, people, exiting the room sent a cold chill down her spine. She held her breath and disappeared as far into the shadows as possible as Death Eaters walked right past her; Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback among them. Noticing that Malfoy was not with them, when they were safely far enough away, she moved out into the hall. It was there that Malfoy saw her, standing in front the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy with a look of disbelief on her face. He was surprised to see her but quickly controlled his expression. Meeting her gaze head on, she saw a flash of regret in his eyes before she felt her body freeze in place. He had used a full body-bind curse on her non-verbally before lowering his head and walking up to her. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead as a single tear rolled down her cheek then walked off in the direction the Death Eaters had gone. When he was about halfway down the corridor he released the curse and Hermione simply crumbled to the floor in silence. It was the end of their fragile fun.