The First Taste

Chapter 2 – Notes and Tables

Hermione stood in the doorway of her office, her eyes scanning the interior of it. Something was off. Her files were all in order, indeed everything seemed in order, but she couldn’t escape the thought that someone had been in it over the weekend. She silently waved her wand, testing the wards that were already in place, but none appeared to have been disturbed. Shaking off the feeling of unease she entered her office. Her black pumps clicked on the hard wood floor as she made her way to her giant oak desk.

The moment she sat down she saw to her surprise that the lid to the file box under her desk was not snapped into place. Instead it rested on top of the box at a slight angle. Sliding her chair back, Hermione knelt on the floor. She hoped none of her files had been stolen, many of the wizarding world’s creatures were dependent upon her to keep them safe and out of harm’s way.

She flipped the lid off and rifled through, nothing appeared to be missing. Hermione reached for the lid and it was then that she noticed the small white envelope attached to it. There was no name on it, but she was positive it had not been there before. She ended the slight sticking charm attached to it and stood up once she had it in her grasp. Opening the envelope she slid out the note inside and read its contents.

My Darling…

How very disappointed I am in you. You’ve given to someone else what should belong to me.

You are mine, my heart, my soul. We are meant to be. I will suffer no more of your unfaithfulness. Stay away from other wizards.


Forever Yours….

X

Was this some sort of sick joke? Who the hell had gotten into her office without disturbing her wards and who knew of her indiscretion with Draco Malfoy? Someone was out there, apparently stalking her.

Presently Herbert Hinckletrain stumbled into her office, tripping over a non-existent something on the floor and crashing into her door. Hermione jumped and quickly stuffed the note into her desk drawer before turning to see what the commotion was.

“Oh, Ms. Granger, I am very sorry for startling you,” he said in his nasally whine.

“Think nothing of it, Herbert. Now, my schedule is full today, I will tolerate no disturbances unless they are emergent in nature.” Hermione sent up a quick prayer of thanks to Professor Snape for his snarky ways. He had less patience than anyone she had ever known and it was from him that she learned how to speak to people in a tone that brooked no argument. Herbert would not be in to bother her for the rest of the day.

“Yes, Ms. Granger, I will hold all Floo calls until you notify me otherwise. Should I let my Uncle Byron know you are also unavailable to him, he is your superior after all. It would be considered disrespectful, Ms. Granger…”

“Herbert, of course I do not mean Byron. Now please, I have a tremendous amount of work to catch up on…” With a wave of her hand she motioned Herbert the Horrid out of her office. Snot-nosed, whiny, arse-kisser, she thought as she watched him close the door. Then sighing, she removed the note from the drawer and tried to discern, through the casting of various spells, where it could have come from.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione made her way through the throngs of people to the last stall in a row of vendors hawking their wares. She was glad to see that everyone else was mostly ignoring the stooped old wizard, it meant she had a better chance of getting a deal on some of the rare books he was selling. She stepped up to the table he had set up in front of his tent.

“Ah, Miss Granger, I wondered when I would see you today,” The raspy voice belonged to one Gregor P. Volfson. The most knowledgeable wizard there was when it came to rare books and wizarding antiques. Hermione had met him a few years back when the Marketplace had become a common summertime event in Hogsmeade. It was one week every year where vendors far and wide came to sell their goods, trade gossip from foreign locations and generally serve as an outdoor gathering place for family and friends.

“Master Volfson, how are you?” Hermione allowed the old man to gently clasp her hands in his and give her a kiss on the cheek. “Have you been using the poultice I made you for your arthritis? Oh and I have some more of those licorice candies you like as well.”

“You are to kind to an aging wizard, but I am greedy and enjoy the attentions of beautiful witch,” Hermione blushed lightly at his compliment. “The poultice is wonderful, and thank you,” He said as she passed him a pouch of the Muggle candy he liked.

“I’ve a few new selections for you to choose from today. One in particular may catch your eye.” She watched as the silver haired mad bent down to grab a box under the table and hesitated to offer her help. He was still a proud wizard and knew he’d be offended that another person, and a witch no less would try to assist him.

She waited patiently as he slowly set the box on the table. Her hands itched to open it and find the treasures within, but she knew it was just as important to him to present his finds to her as it was for her to carefully peruse them and choose the one she would take home.

“This book here is a first edition, magically signed by the author himself and authenticated by the Ministry of Magic. There is a certificate that comes with it as well.” He gently pulled out a thick, leather bound volume with a safety bubble charmed to keep it from being damaged. Removing the charm, Volfson handed her the book and she gasped when she saw the title.

“Magical Law For The Twelfth Century: A Discourse by Ferdinand Marsham! Oh Master Volfson, wherever did you find this?” She exclaimed.

“Estate sale, a Muggle one, if you can believe it. Must have been a witch or wizard somewhere in that family’s past.” Hermione laughed along with Gregor as she ran her hands lovingly over the worn leather. The deep brown material was cracked in the way leather gets as it ages, but over all the book was in fairly good condition.

“There’s tea on the table inside the tent. Why don’t you go on back and have a look-see at the book.” The old man indicated the tent behind him, and Hermione, used to the way Master Volfson conducted his business, was happy to oblige.

Magical tents always held a sort of fascination for her. Ever since the World Quidditch Cup in Fourth Year she loved the idea of walking into what was presumably a small space only to find that a witch could add as much room to her tent as needed. Master Volfson currently had only three rooms to his tent, but they were worlds away from the Marketplace outside.

The first room one walked into was set up to look as though one had just walked into the library of a wealthy family. Though the colors were of a masculine sort, dark greens, burgundies, and navy blues, she never felt out of place and indeed loved that it was decorated in antiques.

Hermione spotted the tea sitting on a gorgeous Louis XIV table and made her way over to sit in the wingback chair next to it. Gently opening the book, she took her time looking at the details and became so absorbed in it, that she failed to notice another of Master Volfson’s customers enter the tent.

Draco paused just inside the opening and took in the sight of Hermione studying a book. Of course, he had watched her study for years in the hallowed walls of Hogwarts’ library, but he hadn’t had carnal knowledge of her body then. His gaze roamed over her, the slender legs that seemed to go on forever were crossed and he felt a hot fist of lust uncurl in his belly at the thought of sliding between them. The little summer dress she wore rode up on her thighs, and he noticed that it was only held up by thin straps. How easy would it be to slip them down her arms, exposing her to his hungry hands and mouth?

Her face was a study in contrasts. Small mouth. Lush, full lips. Wide, earnest eyes. Seemingly innocent, yet full of a knowledge and wisdom far beyond her years. Her nose was narrow and small and slightly turned up at the tip, giving the impression of snobbishness, but he had seen how she never judged, never insulted without reason, those she surrounded herself with. He wanted her, all of her, and decided to make his presence known as well as his wants.

He had just made to take a step towards her when her head snapped up in his direction.

“Malfoy!” Her voice was raised in surprise and sudden nervousness. A slight blush covered her cheeks as she recalled their last encounter, then she recalled the note she had found in her office.

“Good day, Granger. What’s that you’ve got there?” His smile was easy, and set her heart to racing as he ambled over to stand next to her chair.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Her tone was brisk and businesslike, and she hoped he wouldn’t try anything. She wanted him, her body was already responding to his nearness, but she couldn’t give in. Until she found out who has sent her the note, she would not indulge.

Her resolve took a nosedive when he crouched down, ran finger over the exposed part of her thigh and whispered into her ear.

“That’s a loaded question, Granger. Perhaps I should ask you,” he nibbled on her sensitive lobe and she sighed, “what it is,” nibble, suck, sigh, “that you want.”

Her thighs shifted slightly as his finger edged under the hem of her dress. Taking in a deep breath, she pushed his hand away and stood up.

“Draco, we can’t do this.”

“Your eyes tell a different story, Hermione, as does your body.” He straightened up so that he was standing at full height in front of her and she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. He was right, she acknowledged to her self, she’d like nothing better than for him to continue touching her.

“Don’t make this hard, Draco. We had a brief fling at the club and that’s all it will ever be.” She tried to sound stern, but from the small smile on his face, she knew she hadn’t sounded as stern as she wanted to.

“You make it hard, Granger.” He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her body into his, “And we are nowhere near done with our ‘brief fling’, as you called it,” he said gruffly as he brought his lips down to hers.

This kiss was hard, hot and demanding, leaving no room for Hermione to put up any sort of defense against the onslaught of want and need coursing through her. She slid her tongue against his in a wild dance as he bent to wrap one arm beneath her bum and lift her so that she could wrap her legs around his waist.

She tasted of mint and smelled of summer and he couldn’t get enough as his mouth left hers to travel down over her throat, nipping gently at the sensitive spots found there. Her head tilted back giving him more access even as her hips rolled into his.

“Merlin, you smell good,” he muttered against her throat, “and you taste delicious.” He turned and placed her so that she was sitting on the Louis XIV table and he was between her soft thighs.

“Draco, we…..we have to…Oh, Gods!” His hands had slipped the straps of her sundress off her shoulders and he had bent his head to take one aching nipple into his mouth. Her hands came up to clutch at his hair, even as her body arched into his. His tongue felt delicious against the sensitive tip and she arched even more when he switched his attention to the other one.

His hands slid down her legs to her knees only to glide back up, brushing the tips against the heated core of her. She moaned and in that moment she knew she would let him take her again and damn the consequences.

Draco moved to pull down her white lace knickers and smiled wolfishly as she readily lifted herself up to make it easy for him. She kicked them hurriedly off and dropped her hands to undo his trousers even as he was sliding two digits inside of her. She groaned and spread her legs wider trying to feel him as deeply as possible.

“More…”

“Gods, witch, you are so wet,” he used the pad of his thumb to rub her clit, and she chanted his name as his touch brought her ever higher into a maelstrom of pleasure.

Draco used his other hand to undo and drop his trousers. He wanted to take his time, wanted to taste her sweet pussy, but she looked so enchanting writhing about on his fingers, panting his name, that his cock ached to be inside of her.

“Now, Draco, oh oh….” Gently he pushed her so that she was lying back on the table and she drew up her knees to spread her legs for him.

Grasping his cock in one hand he brought the tip to the entrance of her dripping center. With one strong thrust he was buried to the hilt and both of them gasped. He, as her inner walls closed around him, and she, at the sensation of being filled by his long, thick cock. Hermione wrapped her legs around him as he began to move. Slow, drawn out thrusts that drew out their pleasure, had both of them breathing heavy and moaning each other’s names.

Gradually the pace increased, bringing them both to the edge. The table rocked beneath them as Draco’s hips slammed into Hermione. Her body began to tense under him and he knew she was close to coming. Sliding a hand between them, he found the sensitive nub hidden in her folds and lightly rubbed it with his thumb. She came, his name a breathless yell on her lips, her eyes locked on his, and the look of her, mussed and spread out underneath him sent Draco tumbling off his own cliff into pleasure. As their orgasms ebbed, Draco slumped on top of her, his head in the crook of her neck.

Finally the sounds of the Marketplace outside registered in Hermione’s ears and she began to push at Draco’s shoulders.

“Oh my God, Draco, we just…you…I…Master Volfson is right outside!” She was horrified at the thought of the kindly old bookseller hearing what she and Draco had just done inside his tent. Frantically she adjusted her dress and tugged on her knickers. “He’ll never sell another book to me again!” she wailed.

“Books? That was a bloody great shag and you’re worried about buying books?” His face was incredulous as he watched her, face flushed from their recent activities and pacing from one end of the room to the other. She was so adorable all riled up, and he felt a twitch in his pants again as he entertained a brief vision of grabbing her, bending her over the sofa in the corner and taking her from behind.

“Draco! Pay attention! What are we going to tell Master Volfson?” Hermione was standing in front of him, waving her hand in front of his face. He took said hand into one of his own and brushed his lips against hers, shocking her into silence.

“He went to grab a bite to eat with one of the other vendors. He said to tell you he’d speak with you afterwards.”

Hermione sighed, “I was serious when I tried to tell you earlier that we can’t do this again.”

“It’s a little late for that now seeing as it already happened, Hermione.” He smiled down at her, part of him realizing that he held on to her hand so she wouldn’t disappear on him again.

“It’s complicated,” She tugged her hand out of his and walked towards the doorway, “Tell Master Volfson I will be in touch about the book. And Draco? For your own good, stay away from me.” She turned and fled, leaving him to wonder why she kept walking away from him.

RynStar15 - Thank you! I hope this was a welcome update for you,and that you enjoyed it as much as the first.

Dreamweaver - I wanted to keep it light-hearted and the stalker bit just sort of snuck up on me! More Blaise and Marcus coming up soon! I heart you!

margaritama - I adore your stories!! Her Shoes was amazing, I sort of wish I had centered a story around great shoes also!! =) Thank you!!

HarryGinny4Eva - More deliciousness just for you!

Snapes_Goddess - More smut just for you!

LadyV - Miss you darling,have fun on your trip!!

Lady Disdain - it may take a little bit as I've got a lot Real Life things going on, but yes I will be updating when I can. I hope you enjoyed chapter 2! =)

paigee07, kazfiest, Jessie, angeles, bLondpierogi & Gryffindor_Slytherin - Thank you all for your reviews, they make me smile =)