Twisted Lust

The coffee table lay smashed up on the table, Draco's books haphazardly tossed in the rubble. And standing above the mess was Draco, seething and seriously considering setting his books, the table, the common room, and most importantly Granger's room, on fire. Angrily he kicked the chair nearest to him, only resulting in hurting his foot more than it had the chair. With a murderous glance he stared at a random shoe which has been thrown into the fireplace, probably one of Granger's conquests had left it there, just to mock him.

+flashback+

It had always pained Draco that he was Hermione's desk partner in Arithmancy, not to mention the way he felt when she came striding into class wearing something a bit too revealing or smelling like she'd just been thoroughly fucked.

And his annoyance could not have been any worse than on the day of their first exam. At first he thought she had just dropped a piece of paper, but oh no, stupid Draco, could Hermione really make the mistake of dropping a piece of paper?
No one noticed, as usual, too busy having their minds raped by advanced rune translations. But Draco felt a different kind of raping. As she leaned over the table (much to any boys pleasure who may have been staring at her chest) he found her hand lightly stroking the thin material of his robes. She kept plying and plying, rubbing over his cock harder every second, giving him a full on hard on in the middle of the test.
He couldn’t concentrate, his cock was so engorged he thought he would pass out if someone wouldn’t suck him off immediately. Luckily he had almost finished the exam by the time she was fully satisfied with her work

As he walked past the corridor leading towards the kitchens, a hand grabbed from nowhere and pulled him in. “Wouldn’t you like for me to ease that stress?” Hermione whispered in his ear, with a smile, working her hand down his boxers. For almost five seconds Draco went with it, enjoying the feel of her soft hands wrapped around him. But those few seconds were enough for him to snap off whatever it was he was on, and yank her hands out of his boxers.

“Get your stained little hands off of me whore”

Her eyes narrowed and she wiped her hand on the back of her robes,

“What’s your problem, are you too prude or something, never had a decent fuck? Or can no one satisfy you like your own hands.” She hissed at him, pushing him as she ran out to find Weasley or some other little stupid friend of hers.

Much to his annoyance, he quickly had to finish himself off, the whole time cursing Granger and swearing retribution the next time he saw her.

+end flashback+

As Draco stood glancing at the fireplace, he replayed her words over in his head. Prude, did she genuinely have the audacity to make that kind of remark? Granger of all people she have known he was no prude, having personally walked in on him with one of his various conquests shortly after the Yule Ball had terminated.

Recently though, Hermione was right. He hadn’t been with anyone all year, hell he couldn’t even proposition anyone, he just wasn’t interested. And it wasn’t a lack of sexual appetite, he just couldn’t bring himself to touching another girl.
The final straw had been with a fifth year Slytherin, as much as she tried, he just couldn’t get it up. She had coaxed and coaxed, slowly stripping, swirling her tongue on the end of his cock, sticking one after another finger of his inside of her, but nothing. All he could think about was going and taking a hot shower, washing her stickiness off of him. She eventually gave up, calling him a slew of dirty words before leaving the room altogether.

It wasn’t that there weren’t any attractive girls. It’s just that the one he wanted, the one he would stay up late at night listening to, the one he would jack of to, she was nothing more than a whore.

Draco swore loudly as the pain in his foot resurfaced.

“Draco, I know with your little problems you feel the need to scream it out, but do you mind, I’m kind of in the middle of something” A mocking voice said from behind him.

He turned around to see Hermione, dressed in nothing but one of his white button down shirts, her cheeks flushed.

“Where did you get that shirt from?” Draco asked menacingly, his fists beginning to clench at his sides.

“Oh this old thing, I just picked it up off the bathroom floor, it was so dirty I just had to wash it, and I haven't been able to part with it since” Hermione added with a wink.

Draco walked over to her, almost running, and roughly grabbed her arm, pinning her against the fireplace.

“Get. MY. Shirt. Off. Your. Fucking. Chest.” He whispered, his mouth hovering dangerously above hers.

She could feel his breath, the heat emanating from his mouth. His lips were moist, she could make out every bend and curve, how tender they must feel against her own. She breathed out, holding in a sigh, the air mingling with his own. Just as she began to lean in to kiss him, he pushed away from her, punching the fireplace wall.
Hermione cringed a little, feeling the wind of the punch rushing by her, she slid down onto the floor and looked up at him questioningly.

Whereas he stared down at the floor, his breath haggard and coming out in heavy pants, cutting the ever-increasing silence. He glanced briefly at his bloody hand, where pieces of rock from the wall had become lodged.

He kept staring down, ripping a piece of rock that had been lodged between his joints, throwing it at the ground next to her open legs, her naked open legs. She jumped a little as the rock made a small pattering noise, broken from her trance-like stare at his face. He tore out another piece and threw it down, this time it came into contact with her leg and she slightly winced at the jagged texture it held.

It was then that Draco took notice of it.
A small, faint line that started near her knee and ran all the way up to.....
there.
She felt his stare and looking up, immediately closed her legs and ran back up the stairs.

“Hermione WAIT!” Draco called.

Pausing briefly before running up the stairs, he pushed open the door, only to find her being kissed by a black haired boy he’d never seen before.
The boy paused and looked up, “do you mind? I’m kind of in the middle of something” they boy drawled on.

Draco wanted to punch him, he looked at Hermione but she was fixedly staring the other way, staring at a space on the ceiling, determined not to look at him.

“Umm, can you go now?” the boy asked again, this time a little more incessantly.

Draco turned, trying to cast the images he saw out of his mind, but what on earth was that line on her leg, and more importantly. Why was it there of all places.

He tore off his robes, stepping into the shower and turning the hot water on, he didn’t want to think about Granger and her cuts and her dirty habits, he didn’t want to think about how vulnerable she looked or how close he had been to kissing her, he didn’t want to think.

Once he felt satisfyingly clean, he crept back into his room and crawled under his sheets.
And as usual, he didn't get an ounce of sleep, he spent the whole night listening to that black haired boy yelling her name over and over again, oh what he would do to silence him once and for all.
Everything was as always except it was the first time he didn't hear a sound from her.
And unknown boy left kind of early? Was she actually being more considerate of his sleeping habits?

Draco waited for her nightmares to come, so he could come in and hold her, but they never came. He was awaken by a faint sobbing coming through the walls, but this time, he didn't think she wanted him to stop her.



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THANKS FOR REVIEWS (edited 05.22.08)