Poison

Chapter Two – My Pain, Your Thrill

His head hit the wall as she pushed him back into it. He groaned and pushed her back, and ducked as she swung at him again. She missed this time, but his jaw still smarted from where she’d landed the punch in the shower moments ago, before she dodged past him into her room, where he’d followed her. He thanked whatever Gods where up there for hours of quidditch training that allowed him to have such good reactions. He moved forward, grabbing her around the waist, and knocking her off her feet. She hit the ground hard, and a grunt escaped her lips. Now she was underneath him. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. Her hand snaked into his hair and she forcibly bought his head down to meet hers, kissing him feriousously. He shifted his weight and using his knee, separated her legs again. She moaned as he rubbed against her mound again. Her hips bucked up to meet his hip. Her left hand was still gripping his hair, and she yanked on it, as her right hand dragged her nails down his back. His sharp intake ended their kiss, and he looked into her eyes again.

She was looking at him with a mixture of lust and loathing. He was surprised and incredibly felt himself getting even harder. She felt the movement, and smirked at him. She pushed against his shoulders and he toppled back, momentarily stunned. She moved quickly, straddling him and grabbing both his hands and securing them over this head with her own. She latched onto his neck and sucked, sinking her teeth into his flesh a little. He groaned again. He twisted one hand free of her hold, and grabbed a handful of hair at the base of her neck, and yanked her head backwards forcefully. Her breath caught in her throat, and he couldn’t wait any longer. He grasped her hips and brought her down on his rigid length. She threw her head back and screamed. He needed to own her mouth again, so he shifted his weight and rose up to meet her. Instantly she wrapped her legs around his waist, and her arms closed around his neck. He held her against him and kissed her again. If was more of a fight with their mouths than a kiss, with her sucking his tongue into her mouth, him biting on her lip, her nails digging into his shoulders, as his hands lifted her up and down on his cock, gripping the flesh of her hips so hard his knuckles were white.

They were moaning into each others mouths, the pressure building for both of them. He’d never been so turned on by a witch before. She was giving as good as she got, and she was loving it. This time it was she that stopped their kiss as she gasped for breathe, he bent his head and took one erect nipple into his mouth. She gasped again, and arched her back, pushing her breast closer to his mouth. He bit down gently, still suckling, and she cried out as she came. He felt her whole body shudder with the force of her orgasm, and taking advantage of her momentary weakness, pushed her back wards, going with her until she was on her back, legs on his shoulders, and his manhood buried as far as it would go insider her.

He began to thrust hard and fast, and she cried out in abandonment with every movement. He was so lost to the sensation that he didn’t notice that he was grunting primally every time he pushed deep inside her. His hands were gripping her thighs, hers were digging into his biceps, and it didn’t take long until he exploded within her with a low cry, just as she cried out again, her back arching and her whole body trembling.

He collapsed on to her, unable to move, and she let him lie there while they both gasped for air. When he had energy enough, he rolled off and lay on the floor next to her. She stood gingerly, and stared down at him. He looked back, and smirked. Anger flashed into her eyes, and she kicked him in the ribs. He grunted and curled up in agony.

“Stay away from me, freak” she said as she dashed back to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

* - * - *- *

He wasn’t a stupid young man. He knew that his position here was tentative to say the least. He knew that his actions last year had very nearly seen him banished to Azkaban for the rest of his life, if the Dark Lord and his minions didn’t get to him first. He knew that only the surrender and testimony of his ex-Head of House was what was keeping him here. He didn’t understand why he’d been made Head Boy, or what she was doing here as Head Girl, when her best friends were off finishing Dumbledore’s quest.

For whatever reason though, she was here, and she was starting to become a real problem. He had always been obsessed with her. She was the only person in this school not intimidated by him in any way. She was always quick to put him down in any situation where he had any control. Last night and this morning had been the latest incident in a long history of her grappling control off him, and using it to her advantage. That made him so mad he wanted to smack her face until it was red, then kiss her senseless.

He didn’t have much of an appetite despite the mornings exertions, and she had yet to emerge from their joint head quarters. He wondered what her reaction was going to be. Would she have him expelled, or would she take matters into her own hands, and hex him into next year. He gulped, knowing that she’d probably be more than capable of doing just that. He groaned and sunk his head into his hands. He was going crazy. The other students at his table looked at him quizzically. Not many of them talked to him anymore, even those people he used to count as friends. He supposed they had parents who had told them to keep their distance from him, when the article had appeared in the Daily Prophet about Snape’s arrest and his own return to Hogwarts, it had mentioned how much danger the young man was in.

He let his hands slip back to the back of his neck and rotated his head trying to stretch the ache out of his neck and shoulders. He could still feel the scratches on his back, and was sure that his arms, jaw and ribs would be bruised by attacks of the vivacious Head Girl. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table. Still no sign of her. Damn, he grabbed a couple of bits of toast and some sausage, and wrapped them in a napkin.

He made his way back up to their quarters. The common room was empty, but he could hear movement from her room. He knocked softly.

After she’d left him lying on the floor of her room, she had showered, scrubbing herself clean, because she felt so dirty. How could she have just done what she had just done? Was she that sick that she’d really just had sex with Draco Malfoy? She exited the shower, and stared at her reflection in the steamed up glass. She would be bruised, she could see the marks already forming on her hips and thighs. She made her way to the door to her room, and pressed her ear to it. Nothing. She crossed to his door, which she had also locked, and repeated the motion. It was silent too. Good, he had left their rooms. She had cautiously removed the lock, and entered her room. She dressed in loose fitting pants and a sweater, careful not to let her eyes linger too long on the spot on the floor where they had lain. She had to get out of here before he returned. She was just about to open her door when she heard the knock.

“Sod off, Malfoy” she called out.

”I’ve bought some food, if you are hungry” came the muffled reply.

She suddenly realized that she was famished. She started at the door processing her options before her hunger gave way to her common sense and she crossed the room and yanked open the door.

On the other side of the door Draco had pressed his ear to the door. There was a moment of silence before the door moved and he stumbled a little, and found his face buried in the breast of an enraged Hermione Granger. He quickly extricated himself, and held out the napkin as a peace offering. She snorted at him a snatch up his offering. Crossing her room, without closing the door, she dropped into a wing chair by the window and hungrily started to devour the food.

He stepped into her room. It still smelt of sex and sweat. He smirked again.

She looked up at him, “No, go away” she replied in between bites.

Grinning at her, he crossed to her bed, where he’d attacked her last night, never taking his eyes off her.

She placed the toast on the desk, and picked up her Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7, and threw it at him. He easily ducked out of the way, but realizing the danger of the situation, thought it best to let her have her way here.

“Fine, I’m leaving” he said, heading towards the door.

“Thanks” she said softly. He turned back confused, and saw that she seemed just as surprised that she’d let the word slip out of her mouth.

“Uh…for the toast” she gave him a smile that looked more like a grimace.

“Forget it” he said and he left her to it.

They both let go of the breathe neither of them realized they’d been holding.