Claiming Hermione

“Granger…what the hell are you doing?”

“Come on Malfoy! We’re celebrating!” she said with a wide, stupid grin, holding out the bottle to him. From the looks of it she had already downed about a quarter of the bottle. He took the bottle and looked at her questioningly, but a wary smile was reluctantly forming on his face. This was way to good of an opportunity to pass up. He took a healthy swig. Her eyes widened with mirth.

“Ooooh, aren’t you afraid you’ll get muggle germs?” she teased, giggling. Draco quirked a disapproving eyebrow at her and ignored the question. He’d never heard Granger giggle before and it was a little strange, but her unguarded, and clearly giddy, demeanor was also kind of amusing. He could play along.

“Alright, Granger, what are we celebrating? Did Potter finally admit that he’s a wanker?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, idiot. That’s you, remember?” she grabbed the bottle back and clumsily dropped onto the floor in front of the couch and leaned back against it. The glow of the fire painted her in warm golden light and sparkled off the beads on her dress. She stretched her legs out in front of her, smoothing out her dress as she did so. She smirked to herself, causing Draco to frown. He plopped himself down into one of the large leather armchairs and reached out for the bottle again.

“How did the Gryffindor Princess get her pristine hands on a full bottle of Firewhiskey? Or, are you a closet lush with a hidden stash in your trunk?” He tossed his mask onto couch she was sitting against.

She glared a moment at him for the hated title, but then moved on, “I found some snotty fourth years trying to spike the pumpkin juice.”

“Oh, Granger, could you be anymore of a tight ass?” He said condescendingly.

“Whatever. Firewhiskey and pumpkin juice are hardly a good combination.” She leaned forward, arm outstretched for the bottle.

Draco snorted. “And how would her highness know that?”

Hermione gave him a sideways glance and a mischievous smile came over her face, and she let that be her answer as she took another gulp. Draco’s eyebrows rose on his forehead.

“So what are we drinking to?” he asked.

“My best friend’s engagement” she replied with a wry, wavy smile, holding up the bottle in the air in salute.

Draco leaned over and grabbed the bottle. “The Weasel actually talked Brown into marrying him? She’s a bigger moron than I thought!” Draco said shaking his head and taking another pull off the bottle.

“He proposed and she said yes.” She said matter-of-factly, gazing into the fire, an odd expression on her face. Someone in this was definitely a moron. Maybe a few someones.

Draco took in the odd expression then raised the bottle high in the air. “Congratulations Weaselbee,” he said theatrically, “Didn’t anyone tell you not marry the girl you lose your virginity to? Ah, but at least you know for sure that she puts out. I’m sure she’ll pump out lots of freckled Weasleys and you can all live together with your brood in your hovel of a house.” He took a large gulp and grimaced slightly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, “How do you know she was his first? Maybe he lost it to someone else?”

“Oh, like who? You?” He scoffed in disbelief.

“No, not like me.” She said a little hotly and turned back to the fire. She shrugged with her arms crossed over her chest, “I don’t know. It’s not like they would tell me who they were having sex with. I’m sure they wouldn’t want to taint my pure, innocent ears.” She ended as if speaking to herself.

Draco wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, so he watched her get lost in her thoughts as she started unseeingly into the flames. Other than his perusal on the dance floor, he had made a concentrated effort to not look at her at the masque. Now he was reminded of why he’d tried not to look at her. She was dazzling. And the warm glow flickering over her only intensified the effect. His eyes paused on her shoulder where the thin strap of her dress crossed it. He felt a little off-balance with her. Just in the last 24 hours, he’d felt terrified, protective, angry, and awed – all over this little witch that had made his blood boil for six years. And now he was going to get pissed with her. A little flutter of excitement shot through his veins.

“It was supposed to be me, you know.” She said quietly. Draco eyes darted to her face and he waited for her to continue.

“There’s always been this…idea…. that he and I would end up together eventually. My job was to wait until he had the courage to finally admit his feelings to me and his job was to…well, stop being such a prat and admit his feelings to me.” She smirked to herself, giving Draco that squirmy feeling in his stomach again. She sighed tiredly.

“So, you’re sitting here all heartbroken over Weasley then?” Draco asked wondering if she might start crying.

But, instead she burst into open-mouthed laughter. “Are you kidding?” she said between raucous giggles. “Ron drives me crazy! I’d probably hex him before he could say ‘I do.’ No, no, nooooo. I figured out a while ago that he wasn’t for me.” She guffawed.

Draco was oddly pleased that she wasn’t pining for the witless wonder. Everyone always said that they belonged together, and Draco had never been able to see it. Weasley had boorish manners, deficient intellect – especially compared to Granger, and he had the subtlety of a hurricane. They were not a good match. “So what’s this all about then?

“I just, you know…God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this!” She threw her face into her hands. When she continued her voice was muffled. “I just wonder if there’s anyone out there for me.” Her hands fell into her lap she looked up at vase of jasmine on the mantle. “We both know I’m not exactly considered…desirable.” She paused here and Draco had to fight the habitual urge to rub salt in her insecurities.

“Which is not to say that I want anyone from Hogwarts. I know you don’t think I deserve anything higher than pond scum, but I happen to think I can do better than this lot.” She said with a large dose of incredulity. Draco’s only response to the accusation was to raise a questioning eyebrow at her and remain silent. The truth was that Draco agreed. After seven years of working his ass off to only come in second to her every time, he had little doubt about her intelligence. And while she could be bossy and, dare he say it, arrogant, he’d always kind of admired the way she handled Potter and Weasley. There was little question about who was leader in that group. He doubted any of Hogwart’s finest could keep her busy little mind engaged.

Draco leaned towards her and rested his elbows on his knees. After taking a slow swig, he leaned in a little closer and drawled, “Granger, are we about done with your little pity party here?”

“Ugh! Totally!” She threw her arms up in exasperation with herself and smiled.

“Let’s play a drinking game.” Draco said in a tone that didn’t leave room for argument. A large, full smile bloomed on her face and she chuckled.

“Okay, um…how?”

“Ah, drinking with the Gryffindor Princess, how I love to corrupt purity.” Draco said with a wicked grin.

She snorted, “I’m hardly pure, Malfoy.”

“Sure, Granger, whatever you say.” She rolled her eyes at him. Draco stood up with his trademark smirk and began unbuttoning his robes. Hermione had paid him little attention at the dance, but up close she took in his unusual costume. He was a tall column of black with silver embroidery in a pattern of swirls and scallops. The long jacket went to his ankles, but unlike a robe, it was fitted around his torso with buttons that ended at his waist. From there the jacket was open to the floor. With the straight arms and mandarin collar and his pale skin and bright hair, Draco looked striking and regal. It wasn’t obvious, but judging from the embroidery Hermione guessed that he was a dragon. What else would he be? She liked the subtly of the costume, and of course, he looked incredible in it. Hermione watched him shrug the heavy fabric off his shoulders and throw the garment casually over the back of the chair. Underneath he was only wearing a slim white undershirt and black jeans that rested low on his hipbones. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Draco smirked at her expression but didn’t say anything. He sat back in the chair and pulled up one leg of his jeans to take off his boots. Hermione felt her mouth open. Malfoy’s boots were the sexiest boots she’d ever seen. Tall, black of course, leather, with a sort of foot hugging sole – almost like a moccasin. She watched, fascinated, as he unhooked the long line of buttons along his calf. Looking closely, she recognized the soles. These are the same shoes he always wears, she just never saw the tops before. The thought of Malfoy wearing these unbelievable hot boots under his school uniform everyday, made her cheeks burn. In fact, this was the most “undressed” she had ever seen him and that thought made her heart beat just a little faster. And, of course, he happened to have really nice feet too. They reminded her of marble statues in Italy of Roman gods and heroes. She turned her eyes to the bottle resting at the base of the chair and reached for it.

“Slow down, Granger. There’ll be plenty of time for that in a moment. We don’t want you passing out just yet.” Draco sat on the floor with Hermione and reached for the bottle.

“God this is weird.” She said.

“Yes. It is.” Draco agreed with an odd tone. “Okay, this how we’re going to play. Each of us gets to ask the other any question, which you can either answer or take a drink.” Draco explained sitting cross-legged facing Hermione with his back to the fire and leaning back on his hands.

“Right, like I’m going to get shit-faced with you and tell you all my secrets. That sounds like a recipe for humiliation Malfoy!”

“Have secrets to tell do you?” Draco asked mischievously. “Look, you get to ask me anything too, so I have just as much at stake as you do. And I’m sure I have more humiliating secrets than you do Princess.” Draco wasn’t sure why, but his desire to explore the Gryffindor’s head was suddenly very intense. It reminded him of how he felt when he as searching for the snitch.

The Gryffindor’s head, however, was a little fuzzy, but she tried valiantly to consider the pros and cons of this little game. In the end, she decided that she could make sure to ask some really good questions and if she really didn’t want to answer, she could drink instead. A vague feeling that something important was about to happen settled in her stomach. She just hoped it was a good thing and not the stupidest thing she’d ever done. And she hoped she’d be sober enough to remember it.

“Okay, but I get to go first.”

“Be my guest, Granger.”

“What do you want to do when you graduate?”

Draco sat there shaking his head and chuckling. “Seriously Granger? That’s the most burning question you have for me?”

Hermione scowled “Shut up Malfoy! Maybe I’m saving the big one’s for later! Just answer the question!”

In truth, he was a little surprised. No one had ever asked Draco that. Not his parents, not his friends, not even his head of house. He figured they all thought that with the Malfoy wealth he wouldn’t have to work, or maybe they all assumed he was going to take over Malfoy Enterprises, and sometimes, when he was feeling especially cynical, he figured that they didn’t think he’d live that long. Hell, sometimes he thought that. But a life of leisure, or following in Daddy’s footsteps was not what he wanted for himself, and ever since fifth year he had been harboring a small hope of being an Auror. But, with his family’s reputation and known involvement in the Dark Arts, he’d never told anyone. And not so much for fear of being laughed at, but because he’d rather hang on to the impossible hope than to have it squashed.

He looked at Granger thoughtfully for a moment, considering whether or not to trust her. Wondering why he was about to divulge his guarded secret to her. After a minute he turned to the fire and then back at her, looking her directly in the eye, daring her to laugh. “I want to be an Auror.” She just nodded like she had expected as much.

Draco face took on a look that said, You’ve got to be fucking joking! and he let out a disbelieving chuckle-like noise and with it, a weight that he didn’t know was there, seemed to lift off his chest. He almost smiled. Almost. Instead he gave her a wicked look.

“Alright Granger, your turn. Have you and your boy toys ever done anything naughty? Kiss? Make out?”

Hermione screwed her face in disgust. “God, NO! Harry’s like my brother and that’s just… just gross! And Ron, well, that just never happened and now I wouldn’t want it to.”

“Did you ever want them? Maybe both at the same time?” Draco snuck in, wagging his eyebrows.

“Ugh! Nooo!” She wailed. “You’re disgusting!”

Draco shrugged, “Had to ask, didn’t I?”

“Is that your most burning question, Malfoy?”

“Hardly, but you should know I’m not the only one who’s ever wondered about the three of you.”

“Oh God! No!” She buried her face in her hands. “How could anyone think that?”

Draco shrugged again.

“Ugh! Fine, your turn. What’s with all the muggle books on the bookcase?”

“Oh Granger,” he said as if he’d been asked hundred times already, “literature is literature.” And then, thinking he shouldn’t destroy her image of him, he added with a smirk, “Besides, haven’t you heard the saying, ‘Know thy enemy’? Let’s just consider it research.”

“Right, Malfoy. I’m sure you get tons of muggle-hating ammunition from Tennyson. Or do you find that Whitman is better for that sort of thing?”

Draco felt his anger start to simmer. “Actually, I find the complete lack of information on our world in muggle history does the job best. You know, in the Middle Ages our worlds were fairly entwined, and now…” his voice was rising as he leaned forward, “now, we’ve been reduced to fucking FAIRY TALES for babies, and WE have to hide from THEM, for THEIR safety, not ours! Why shouldn’t I be able to read muggle literature just because I’m a wizard? It’s fucking ludicrous!” Draco was practically seething and took a large swallow of firewhiskey, game or not.

Hermione was stunned. She sat wide-eyed and when he’d set the bottle down with a wobbly thud, she grabbed it herself and took a large swallow also. She had read both wizarding history and muggle history and knew of the reasons wizards had initially gone into hiding. But, it was so long ago that she wondered if muggles and wizards could live side by side again. She had felt extremely lucky to be able to join the world of magic, but when she stepped into Draco’s shoes, who had grown up in that world, she could see how he’d be angry at the sacrifices wizards were forced to make.

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” She told him without the smallest trace of pity. Then to change the subject and hopefully not spend the entire evening drunk and angry, she said, “My turn. Ask me a fun one.” She smiled in anticipation.

Draco blinked at her and his anger dissipated instantly. Twice now. Twice she had completely flipped his angry mood within seconds. No tiptoeing, no placating. She just…listened, or more than that, considered what he said. Are all Gryffindors like that?

A fun one, huh? Well, this would be fun for him anyway. “Are you a virgin?”

“Malfoy!” she screamed and threw a small pillow from the couch at him that missed him completely due to her inebriated aim.

Smirking impishly he assured her, “Don’t worry Granger, you can always take a drink instead of answering. Though, that course of action is an answer in itself.”

Hermione saw the futility of trying to avoid it, so with a deep blush rapidly climbing her neck (and she hoped disguised in the firelight), she answered, bravely trying to be nonchalant about it.

“I’m sure the status of my virginity is as well known in this bloody school as is your status of being an utter slag.” She smirked back triumphantly.

“Doth mine ears deceive me?” he joked. “Did Granger just call me a slag? Granger, didn’t you hear? I’m as pure as my blood.”

She burst out laughing, doubling over and holding her stomach. Draco threw the pillow at her and it hit her on the side of her head, making her laugh so hard that her legs folded up with the rest of her. Her drunken laughter was contagious and Draco put up a good fight, smiling widely, before succumbing to it. Soon, they were laughing hysterically, taking in large gulps of air, looking at each other’s watery eyes and red faces and falling into a fit of laughter all over again. At some other moment in the future they would both look back on the moment and wonder why that was so funny.

When their laughter subsided, or more accurately, when Hermione began to feel nauseous and forced herself to stop, Draco said in a mockingly serious tone, “First of all, Granger, I am not a slag. I’ll have you know that I am actually rather selective about who I sleep with. Second, you didn’t exactly answer the question.”

Throwing her arms and letting them hit the floor heavily, “Fine! Yes. I’m a virgin. Who cares? Just cause I don’t want to spread my legs for some fumbling idiot who isn’t going to last more than a minute! I know you all think I’m some frigid prude, but I just don’t see the point in being disappointed by any of the fine specimens at Hogwart’s.”

“So, what? You’re going to wait to get married? ‘Cause, I can tell you now, that’s a mistake. You could end up with someone who doesn’t know how to please you, or worse, someone who doesn’t care.” Draco wondered briefly to himself why he was giving Granger sex advice. It wasn’t like she asked for it and he certainly didn’t give a rat’s ass.

“No, I’m not going to wait. At least, I hope not.” She said wryly. “Once school is over, I’ll find myself a nice, slightly older gentleman, who actually knows what he is doing, and I’ll have him show me the ropes.”

Oddly, this last statement made Draco blush. Something about Granger and ropes flashed through his mind and he momentarily felt like a secret he’d been hiding had been exposed. He plowed through the conversation in an attempt to ignore the feeling.

“Well, it sounds like you have everything figured out. Rather clinical if you ask me. I mean, I know you like things orderly and all, but I had you pegged for a romantic. You know, love at first sight, happily ever after and all that. Oh, and, Granger, just to set the record straight, not everyone in this school is an inexperienced ‘fumbling idiot who won’t last more than a minute’” He sent her a sexy wink, showing that he was clearly referring to himself.

Her stomach flip-flopped and she thought it was probably the effect of the alcohol. “That may be true, Malfoy. But we’re talking about people that I would sleep with – and – who would also sleep with me. As for love at first sight, let me ask you this, and you can count as my next question: Did you take Parkinson’s virginity?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Exactly! The last thing I want is to turn into a love-sick fool fawning all over some boy the way she does to you, just because I gave him my virginity. It’s pathetic the way girls mix up love and sex, especially their first time, and I don’t mean to be one of them. I’ll wait until I find a guy I’m not interested in, and who isn’t be interested in me – which should be too difficult – do it, and let the love stuff come later. Besides, as I said before, I don’t want some randy boy rutting against me for a few minutes in a broom closet until his…his thing explodes and he runs away. I want a … fuller experience that that.”

Draco was not entirely sure how to respond to that. He felt a stab of injustice at being lumped in with all the males at Hogwarts, and he was a little disconcerted by her ideas of love and sex. There was something kind of sad about it. Not that he cared what an uptight bookworm thought.

“A fuller experience? I suppose you want candles and roses and the lot?”

Hermione felt her cheeks burning. “That’s not what I meant.” She said quietly. She may be inexperienced, but she had an active imagination. She couldn’t exactly name what she wanted, but it wasn’t a scene out of a romance novel. The flush on her neck and disappearing down the front of her dress caught his eye and he was glad he was wearing jeans and not his thinner school trousers.

Draco raised an eyebrow, beyond curious now. “Well? What did you mean?”

Hermione looked at Draco, holding his gaze with a defiant expression. Without breaking eye contact she reached between them grabbing the bottle and took a large drink. Draco’s other eyebrow joined the first. Well, that’s interesting

Hermione thought this was a good time to change the subject and she did have a “burning question” or two that she wanted answered.

“Why did you save me?” She blurted out, twisting her hands in her lap.

Draco was caught off guard, but recovered quickly. “You’re not sorry I did are you?”

“No, of course not. I know I haven’t properly thanked you yet. Um, so…thank you, Malfoy.” She paused.

“You’re welcome.” Draco said, confused by the twisting in his stomach.

“But, um, what were you doing out there?” she asked remembering her query.

“I saw you and Longbottom split up from the window and I went out there to reprimand you both. We’re on the verge of a bloody war, in case you weren’t aware. It’s incredibly stupid to be alone outside at night. You could have been killed.” For some reason, he still couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice.

“Malfoy, I didn’t know you cared.” She responded snarkily, trying to keep the mood light, and cover up the war of feeling battling inside. She was angry at being scolded – again, ashamed at her foolishness, incredibly grateful that he had been there, and surprised by Malfoy’s apparent concern. And of course, there was the part where she was drunk and Malfoy was beautiful and sitting right in front of her. But she was ignoring that part.

Draco huffed but didn’t deny the accusation.

“My turn. So, let me see if I’ve got this…” He resumed the previous line of questioning, “You want an, as yet, undefined, ‘fuller’ experience your first time, you don’t want to lose your virginity in a broom closet, you don’t want candles and romance, you’re afraid of being in love, you want it to last more than a few minutes, you don’t think anyone at Hogwarts is up to the task, but you are also not waiting until you get married, and Granger, did I hear you correctly? Did you say ‘his thing’?” The look on his face was pure amusement. Hermione groaned.

“His ’thing’ Granger? Are you afraid to say the nasty, dirty words?” he teased her, mirth and mischief dancing in his eyes. She blushed crimson, wincing but still smiling in embarrassment.

“No.” she said in a quiet and unsure voice, which was like shouting from the top of the Astronomy Tower that she was indeed a bit shy about it.

An unholy grin stretched wide on Draco’s face. “Come on Granger, you can say it…” he goaded her.

Shutting her eyes tight and squishing up her face she squeaked “penis” and then immediately covered her face in her hands. Draco chuckled. She looked utterly adorable in her embarrassment.

“Oh Granger!” Draco chastised her. “You can do better than that. Where is all that Gryffindor courage you’re famous for?”

She shook her head in her hands and a mumbled, “I can’t” came out. Draco could hardly contain his glee at his chance to tease her mercilessly. A wicked idea came to him and his grin grew.

“Alright Granger, I’ll make you a deal.” He said shifting closer to her so his back was up against the couch also. She kept her red face buried in her hands and let him continue. “I’ll whisper a word in your ear and for every word you repeat out loud, I’ll take a drink. Just think, you can be liberated and get me smashed in one go.”

Hermione felt his shoulder press up against hers and her breathing hitched. This was such a bad idea, but she was so intrigued and so aroused that she knew she would do it. She felt reckless, like she was speeding forward with no control, like she was on a shaking, rickety rollercoaster plunging to her inevitable death and she was powerless to stop it.

She lifted her head and let if fall back behind her, and said to the ceiling, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Her head was swimming and fuzzy, but she wasn’t so far gone that the strangeness of this whole situation didn’t hit her again. She couldn’t fathom what was making her continue on his course with Malfoy, other than that she felt like maybe years of hating each other were being erased little by little. That was worth mortal humiliation right?

Draco took her comment as consent and turned towards her to place his arm on the seat of the couch behind her head, he leaned in close and put his hand up to his mouth. She faced forward stiffly, suddenly aware that he was closer to her than he’d ever been. Pausing for just a moment before he spoke, she felt his warm breath wash over her skin. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip.

“All right, Granger,” he whispered. “I’ll start you out easy.” Her shoulder was pressed into his chest and she felt like she was spiraling already. Nothing about this was going to be easy.

“The first word is … llliiick.”

Her stomach plummeted. His voice was suddenly deep and sultry, and it fanned against her neck like the action the word described. Her heart thumped suddenly in her chest. She kept her eyes closed and tried to control her breathing.

Draco stayed in position, a few small inches from Hermione’s neck, waiting for her to repeat the word. He was caught off guard by a vaguely familiar scent. It was orange and jasmine, amber and honey and vanilla, and he was certain he’d smelled it somewhere before. He took a deep quiet breath and closed his eyes. It was warm and sensual without being cloying. He imagined soft waves of thick liquid chocolate wrapping around him. He pulled back a little to escape the unexpected and definitely unwanted sensation.

“Come on Granger. Say it.” His voice was low and slightly gravelly.

“Lick.” She said a little too loudly and too quickly. He grinned and pulled back further to take a sip of firewhiskey. The bottle was only a third full at this point and Draco could tell that his judgment was more than a little impaired. But there was something forbidden and enticing about making the Gryffindor blush in shame. He leaned back in with a devilish grin.

“Whisper it. Slowly.” he whispered. She hesitated.

“Lick” it was so quiet he had to strain to hear it.

He took another drink, grinning to himself at her rigid posture and closed eyes before leaning in again.

When she felt his soft breathing on her skin this time, she let out a long slow breath, keeping her eyes closed. She could see the dancing flames of the fire through her closed eyes and she could felt the heat radiating off his body. As long as she didn’t look at him, she could pretend.

“Wet” His voice was gravelly and low again and she felt…wet. She could feel the flush bloom across her chest and her neck. How was he doing this to her with these inane words?

Draco watched her chest rising and falling more rapidly and he felt heady with anticipation.

“Wet” She repeated quietly, slowly, like he had commanded.

Draco pulled away and tilted the bottle back again. His thoughts were racing in wobbly circles. The alcohol had definitely kicked in. He was aroused, there was no denying it, and he was glad she had her eyes closed so she couldn’t see how hard he was. But he still had control.

“Suck” It sounded like an order and she felt her nipples hardened. She took a deep breath, not realizing that it was a dead give away to her current state.

Draco knew he was pushing this too far, but he couldn’t stop. It felt like an addiction, craving the next dose of the Head Girl’s secrets. She was uncharted territory and he was charging forward thoughtlessly.

“Suck” she whispered after a moment of working up the courage.

Draco closed his eyes for a moment before pulling away to take another drink. The bottle was down to only a quarter left and Draco felt the gentle haze in his mind. He looked at Granger’s profile and saw that she still had her eyes closed and her neck and chest were red with her flush. Her scent was fogging his mind and pulling him back in.

His breath fanned over her ear and she shivered. “Fffuck” he whispered.

“Fuck” she repeated softly and quickly before she had time to think. Draco gulped hard and forced himself to pull away. He took a small sip of Firewhiskey and shifted his position slightly. This was insane and stupid but he couldn’t stop.

He moved in again, readjusting how he was sitting again. The soft little curls that had never made into her twist brushed against his forearm. “Cock.” The word that started this intoxicating madness. He pulled back a little to watch her reaction.

Hermione swallowed past the lump in her throat. His voice was smoldering and she had the bizarre urge to turn and lick up him slowly. Like a cat. She couldn’t do this. It was too much. It was too revealing. It was Draco Malfoy! She had to end this.

“Say it, Granger” He commanded harshly. Her breath suddenly hitched and she became very aware of the heat between her legs. Her nerves were singing. She wanted to do it. Something in his voice made her want to obey.

“Cock” she whispered shakily, barely audible.

Draco was overwhelmed with pride. He made her say it. He pushed her over that barrier. He wanted to both hug her really hard and devour her. The small amount of reason that remained in him fought to gain control. He lowered his head so his breath caressed her neck. “Good girl.” He told her in that low voice.

A smile broke over Hermione’s mouth and she felt Malfoy move away from her to drink, but she still couldn’t open her eyes, couldn’t look at him.

He had thought of stopping, ending this dangerous game, but his new success spurred him on. He felt impulsive and out of control, wondering how far he could push her, and he leaned back in.

“Pussy” he said against her neck, lips just out of range. She felt the consonant puff over her hot skin and her heart sped up. She wanted to please him again, but her mind was a blur.

“Come on Granger, you can do this. Say it… Pussy.” His voice was so seductive. So convincing. So unassailable. He could ask her to slit her wrists in that voice and she might consider it.

Her brows furrowed in her effort to dredge up her courage. “Pussy.” She murmured as she let her breath out. Her palms were flat on the floor on either side of her, fingers spread like she was afraid she’d fall. Draco could feel her trembling.

“That’s my girl.” He said warmly. An alarm was going off in Hermione’s head, but she couldn’t seem to concentrate on it. She felt hot and itchy and she started squirming a little. Draco could see her thighs clenching together underneath the silver dress. He wanted to run his hand up her leg to look at the cut on her knee. In his mind, he laved his tongue over that spot the way he had with the washcloth. He closed his eyes against her silver-encased legs and lifted the bottle to his lips before leaning in once again.

“Knee” He whispered in her ear. He couldn’t explain why he chose that word exactly. In a way, he felt like he wanted to punish her with the thoughts that had been plaguing him for weeks. He wanted to remind her of when he blew on her wet knee and how he’d made her gasp. He’d done it. Not some older, experienced stranger. He did that to her.

And she did remember. Even through the thick fog in her mind, she remembered. “Knee” she whispered back like it was a confession. At that moment, both breathing rapidly, they understood each other perfectly. Draco felt her body tense and he looked down to see her hands curled into tiny fists. He took another small sip. There was only one more thing he wanted from her.

“Please.” It seemed both a request and a command and even Draco himself couldn’t decide. He wanted something from her. Her trust. Her smell. Her blush. Her knee. Something. And he wanted her ask him. To plead with him. For something.

“Please.” It was almost a sob. She was asking, begging. “Oh God.” She whispered into her hands, feeling too out of control.

---- Let the games begin! I can't wait to hear what you all think! :)