The Price Of Knowledge

The Price of Knowledge



Chapter Eighteen

I counted the minutes until the Hogsmeade weekend. Going to class seemed like a chore. I only did my homework to help pass the time. I found myself tapping my wand absentmindedly against my desk – and the students around me shooting me dirty, annoyed looks. I tried to pay attention, but my heart wasn’t into it.

How many times before did I count the seconds until class started? How the mighty had fallen.

By Friday I started dodging. Harry and Ron were easy to avoid – Harry was still shooting me glares and Ron was now with Pamela Hornshire, a fifth year. Whatever happened to Bella Blueseaweed was my first reaction, but Ron didn’t seem to care. He seemed all to content to suck Pamela’s face off during breaks and after dinner. I spent what time I wasn’t counting the seconds being irked by the fact Ron and Draco were openly referred to as “players” when any girl who played a similar routine was considered a slut.

Not that I thought I was a harlot. I had, after all, only been with one partner and practiced self-love. I had entertained the idea of multiple lovers – I could have learned so much. I shot the idea down after reading a rather lengthy book on venereal diseases. Besides, Draco was more than willing to try anything I suggested, and improve on. For the first man I was ever with, he was a really good choice once you looked past his humongous ego.

He cornered me after class on Friday and kissed me. After a day spent in anticipation and in mild aggravation, that kiss had been like manna. It was an appetizing preview of what was to come – it left me wanting more. I wondered if he was thinking about it too. Draco was difficult to gauge – he hid his true emotions behind a façade of arrogance and disinterest. I wondered if he has inherited it from his parents.

Ginny was not so easy to dodge. Ginny was very much like her mother. She could smell lies. I don’t know how they could, but if you ever saw Ginny’s nose rise into the air – run. Ginny knew I was avoiding her – and I was avoiding her because I was lying. I was avoiding her because I was avoiding Harry and Harry was avoiding me. Ginny was already in full alert, and I imagine she had already spoken to Lavender and Parvati. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Ginny, I did. If anything, my recent developments could have been further advanced by her. She was already open and honest and experienced - which is why I didn’t want to include her. Ginny would have been full of insight into this unique relationship – too much insight. I didn’t like being told, “That’s how it goes.” I didn’t like to have someone younger than me say, “You mean you didn’t know that?” My insecurity in not knowing every single answer made most advice seem condescending. It was my problem, yes, and I could admit it. Whether she would have shared Harry’s view of my apparent betrayal was irrelevant. The fact she knew more than I did on the subject was enough to push me into avoidance.

Avoiding everyone wasn’t easy. It also left me with too much time alone with my thoughts. I had always been a thoughtful person – after being alone most of my childhood I had a tendency to stay in my head a lot. So what was I to think about besides my friends and him?

As much as I hated to admit it, I thought about Draco constantly – and not always correlated to sex, either. I found myself analyzing his behavior, comparing it from past experiences to current interactions, with myself and with others. I would find myself watching him without realizing it and him loving it. He must have thought I was falling for him, horrid little git. I lusted for him, yes. Gods yes. I actually liked him, despite the fact he was a prat and thought he was superior to everyone else and manipulated people. I doubted he even realized the effect his mind games played on others. I wondered how much they had affected me. Everything he did seemed calculated – controlled.

Then again, I might have been overanalyzing.

Friday night, Gryffindor and Slytherin played Quidditch. I had wished the team luck – and had informed Draco that if he lost I wouldn’t point and laugh. He had informed me then that he wasn’t going to lose, and as his reward I was going to let him come in my mouth. I had blushed profusely and stalked off, hoping no one would have noticed that I was sweating.

Yes, he did like to control people. On the pitch, Harry was extraordinarily aggressive – soaring into Draco’s airspace as to make him fall. Harry was being an arse – he obviously felt if he could beat Draco at Quidditch he could make everything right in the world. But in his distracted state, Harry was spending more energy trying to knock off Draco than get the Snitch. Slytherin won, 120 to 50.

And to make it worse, Harry didn’t take the loss well. He threw himself at Draco, sending out a roundhouse to Draco’s jaw. Soon both houses were into it, and teachers were storming the stands. Both houses lost two hundred points, and Harry had detention for the rest of the year for starting the whole thing in front of plenty of witnesses.

I had sat in the back, off to the side, hiding under my cloak. I saw everything, from the first attempt to knock Draco off his broom to Madam Hooch casting a full circle Stupefy. I watched Harry cast an angry glance my way, Ron mutter something about my not helping “hex the tossers.” Draco smiled in my direction.

Draco Malfoy was a clever bloke. He must have realized that the unusually volatile anger directed at him was because Harry had found out. He had the sense to realize the contract had not been broken, but not enough to let it lie. He would use Harry’s anger against him, if only for his own amusement. While tensions between them had lessened over the years, they had not been forgotten. They didn’t like each other, and probably never would.

Hence the avoiding. Harry felt betrayed by my actions, and when Harry felt strongly about the matter, you tended to let him go with it. He was stubborn, more so when he had an idea inside his thick skull. Harry couldn’t listen to reason until he chose to do so, not before. The evidence of his pigheadedness was fading, but the memory would always be there.

Saturday came after what felt like an eternity. I dodged the common room, narrowly avoiding Ginny. I heard her call my name as the Fat Lady closed behind me.

“Someone was calling you, dear,” The Fat Lady pointed out politely.

“I didn’t hear a thing,” I shrugged, heading down the hall quickly.

I was a goal-oriented person, and had only one person on my mind at the moment. I had plans for Draco Malfoy today, plans that involved much personal pleasure…for me. Something I had always wanted but never really captured. I had been brooding far to long to allow myself to be denied. Wouldn’t Draco be in for a surprise, I thought deliriously as I made my way to the portrait of Abigail Firestone Meriweather, The Screaming Banshee, my excitement building and building until I felt ready to spontaneously combust.

I was shaking as I snuck down the winding stairs. When I pushed the heavy doors open, Draco was already there, sitting on the bed. His silver eyes flashed as he turned to meet my gaze. “Hey Grang-”

Before he finished, I had pulled out my wand and cast a silencing spell. He opened his mouth, likely considered terminating my incantation, only to close it. His eyebrow rose, but he was smirking. I spelled my clothing away, then his. I strode forward confidentially, unashamed of my bare form and pushed him back against the headboard with another swish of my wrist. His surprise was momentary as I mounted the bed, crawled toward him without making physical contact. I casually deposited my wand by the bed. I took a deep breath before I reached for him, to regain my composure.

I brushed my lips against his softly, pried his mouth open with my tongue, only to pull back as he tried to match my movements. I could feel his silenced groan against my lips but ignored it. I wanted to control this encounter, take back some of the power I had sacrificed. This had been my intention from the start, my plan from the beginning – I wasn’t going to let his desirable reactions effect me…too much.

I ran my hand down his stomach, danced my fingertips over the top of his thighs. I cupped him and he took in a sharp breath – I had never been so bold. I massaged him under my palm, peppered his neck and ear with little kisses. I felt his hands reach for me, and I pushed them away. He tried again and I tightened my grip on his manhood. I cast him an indignant look. He looked apprehensive but his eyes sparkled in the candlelight.

I repositioned myself so that I was straddling his thighs with as little contact as possible. I placed on hand on his chest to support myself, and then used the other to hold onto his erection. I rolled my hips to coat the head with the evidence of my arousal – I had, after all, spent most of the day in wet knickers thinking about us this moment.

His hands shot out again and, after rebalancing myself, I smacked them again. I shot him another warning look – I wasn’t above tying him to the bed. No, that thought didn’t displease me in the least, although I knew Draco would have hated it.

I pulled myself into his lap, taking him into my body slowly. His hands rose to grab me and kiss me, but this time I quickly caught his wrists and held them away. I jerked my head back when his face moved towards mine.

I shook my head at him to deny his actions. I mouthed a ‘no,’ then jerked my pelvis forward roughly as if to punctuate my sentiment.

I clenched his wrists as tight as I could as I began to move. I rolled my hips into his, slow, selfishly, each stroke meant to rouse my own passion while remaining ineffective on him. I thrust myself forward and felt his sharp intake of breath.

It felt powerful to have him in this position, under me, being used for my pleasure rather than his. After weeks of being the subservient, the lesser tour-de-force, now I was in complete control and he was the one at my beck and call.

I watched his face contort and the beads of perspiration form along his brow. It wasn’t enough for him. Good, I thought, clenching my insides tight, then releasing. His eyes shot open in mild surprise. He liked it. I think he would have preferred to vocalize it, though, judging by the expression on his handsome features.

I smiled and shook my head again. I could feel the edge of climax approaching, each of my movements bringing me closer and closer.

Draco’s gaze held my own, and I couldn’t read his expression. Whether he was angry, annoyed, enthralled, I could not tell. His face was stoic although his stare was intense. I felt my body begin to shake as I found the edge, let myself fall –

My grip on his wrists loosened and he overtook me. I gasped as the waves of orgasm ran over me, meeting the rush of panic as his hands tightened around my throat. I couldn’t breath – he was strangling me. Draco was actually strangling me.

He pushed me into the bed, joining our bodies harshly. We have had rough sex before, but never to this extreme. I thrashed under his hold, but he was fucking me and squeezing my throat and I felt ready to faint. I couldn’t breath but the sensations were so sharp and intense I felt sparks flying through my fingers.

Draco held onto my neck with one death grip and his other hand crept between our bodies to attack my clit. The panic and the arousal and the pain blended together into a deranged symphony that made my body scream. I was clawing at him, but what kind of release I wanted was uncertain.

I came. I came so fiercely, I saw the stars and the moon in the sky and then everything went black.


When I awoke, I wasn’t dead. I was very much alive. I was sore, granted my throat was raw and my bones felt liquefied, but I was alive.

And it was wonderful. I had never felt so relaxed before in my life. It felt as if my listless body was floating over the mattress, over my life, just watching. No judgments, no responsibilities. I felt liberated, freer than I had ever known. There was no weight on my shoulders; everything had been rendered unimportant and obsolete.

Draco lay beside me, partially covered by the damp sheet. His hands were folded across his stomach, and he was staring into the ceiling. He must have felt my stare, his head turned.

“Are you all right?” he asked. He had ended the silence while I had slept.

I nodded.

He breathed a sigh of relief but continued to look at me very intently. “I’m so sorry Hermione. I…I lost control. I didn’t mean…”

I hushed him. What did he mean, he was sorry? I sat up slightly, and felt a stab of pain ripple through my body. Wow, did I ever take a beating. “Draco, I have never come that hard in my life.”

Draco stared at me incredulously. “I strangled you. You passed out.” His tone reflected his disbelief. “You could have died.”

I shrugged. I was too euphoric. “That was the best sex ever. I have never come so hard in my entire life. I have read material about asphyxiation during sex, but I never imagined it could be so intense. Wow, Draco.”

He was still staring.

I turned, albeit slowly. “Have you ever done that before?”

“No.” Draco turned his face away, his glare back onto the ceiling. There was a long pause before he spoke again. “When you were on top of me, riding me for yourself, pushing me down…it made me angry. I didn’t like not being in control. I wanted to punish you. I wanted you…I wanted you to know who was the stronger one. I wanted to show you that no one will ever command you like I do.”

Not what I expected. He continued. “When we first fucked, I couldn’t believe it. You had an enormous sexual appetite and no experience. But you knew your own body, had the confidence to just go with it. I have slept with my fair share of girls who just lay there, waiting for shite to happen. There was no challenge, no incentive to go back. Or even worse, the ones that thought I was some sort of god for making them come. No guy should be responsible for a woman’s pleasure. It’s too much pressure. But then you come along, silly chit bookworm, whatever labels no one would ever equate with sex, you come along and you challenge me and fight me and excite me…I never wanted to fuck a girl twice before you. And I had to coerce you into it. What the bloody hell.”

Draco sighed. “I guess what I am saying is…I am crazy about you, Hermione Granger. I think I’m in love with you.”

A fire lit in my chest and was quickly extinguished when the weight of his words hit me. I felt a chill crawl over me and I brought the sheet up over my shoulders. I didn’t know what to say exactly.

I enjoyed our time together, even when we weren’t having sex. He had a lot of qualities that I found… pleasing. I even liked his arrogance, it suited him. I wanted to keep having sex with him. My mind was swimming. Did he expect me to say it back? Should I say it as to not hurt him? Will he have sex with me if I say nothing? What does this mean? Should I just admit I need more time to think about this? Could I just run away now?

Draco sighed. My silence may have said too much.

“I don’t really know what to say,” I blurted out.

He was quiet.

“I didn’t know you cared that much about me.”

“Yea, no shite.” He began to rise off the bed, his hand in his hand.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t care!” I spot at him. “It just means…I don’t know. I like you a lot, Draco. Bugger me for the reasons why, but I do. And it’s not just the sex. I like you. I’m just…” I paused to find the right words. “I’m just not there yet.”

I didn’t really consider what the words meant after I said them. I didn’t know if I could love Draco given our history. Like and lust did not a relationship make…well, actually, they did. Ours was not conventional, but it was a relationship. It wasn’t fair of me to give Draco hope of anything more. It wasn’t fair of me to rule out my own feelings in the matter either.

Draco stopped, considered my words. Or at least I thought he was. He was still staring at me as if I had just told him I killed his mother.

“Will you please stop that?” I asked. “Would you just…come back to bed? I thought today we were going to be together.”

Draco’s intense glare lessened and he slid back into bed. I pulled one of his arms around me and settled my head on his chest. “And…we are.” His tone was softer, but I sensed the confidence returning, the ego inflating. “And I think I won that match yesterday, so I do believe you owe me a victory blow job.”

I smiled, the front of my mind thinking only of pleasure and what transgressions the rest of the day held.

But in the back of my mind, I couldn’t shake the off feeling that the price of everything I had wanted and everything that had come to pass had bigger repercussions than I was prepared to handle. I had already lost a friend and had Draco fall in love with me…what more lay ahead?

Was I really prepared for the price of this knowledge?


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