Drowning in Reality
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
3,677
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
3,677
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Kitchen Island
This chapter is very short, but I'm fairly positive it will be liked.
---
When Draco woke the next morning it was due to the relentless sun that refused to go away and a rather ambrosial smell that was wafting into his room. Flipping back the covers angrily he, for the first time, wondered where his house elves were. He’d been up so long that he’d forgotten to ask where Hermione would put them. After pulling on a pair of slacks from the wardrobe and a soft cotton blend polo he decided he wanted to investigate what was causing the heavenly scent. Not bothering with shoes, Draco ran out the door and down the stairs. Taking in his surroundings, he realized the only parts of his new home he’d seen were a series of hallways, his own bedroom and Hermione’s. In fact, he found it rather interesting that he’d seen Hermione’s rooms before having set foot in any other room in the house. Without knowing where he was going Draco followed his nose; he was, after all, a man of conviction.
.
He managed to find the smell as he swung open a door to what he assumed would be the kitchen, and found Hermione along with his two elves chatting merrily as they flipped pancakes on the stove. Perfectly content to watch them cook, he took in her appearance; she wore jeans and a t-shirt, and an apron was fastened around her. There was powder in the shape of fingers across her bum; he imagined she probably had the same prints on the front as well.
“Good morning.” The chaos that ensued was charming for him to watch; Hermione, who had been completely unaware of his presence, jerked slightly and the pancake that had been gingerly cooking went flying out of the frying pan through the air.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” And the pancake stopped in mid air, hovered for a moment and returned to its pan. “Rule number one: Don’t sneak up on the cook.” Her grin was wide and magical, she was stunning when she stood there but when she smiled she radiated the very beauty in the fiber of her being.
“Anymore rules, Granger? Don’t distract the cook, because the pancake may burn, for example?” Smoke had begun to arise on the fly away pancake. He sneered at her, not the sneer that had been so typical of Malfoy in school, but a playful one. With his own wand he lifted the pancake and brought it to him. He inspected it a moment, cast a charm and it was, once again, a perfect golden brown. Noticing the chocolate chips he fought the urge to hug her, he loved a woman with enough adolescence still in her to put bits of chocolate in food. With a hungry bite he mumbled something about chocolate pancakes being his favorite.
“Your elves have been helping me cook.” There was a slight snarl under the tone of mirth and happiness; he expected he’d find out why in a moment. “I don’t like having elves as property in my house, Malfoy. I think it’s rather despicable-”
“Don’t go putting that stick up your arse again, Granger; I’ve begun to find you utterly entertaining. Now before you rip my head off- or decide to torture me under all a manner of other despicable things- which I can tell you’re contemplating by the darts your enchanting amber eyes are currently shooting at me- let me inform you that these are free elves who have chosen to remain with me because I pay them for their services.” With another bite out of the pancake he grinned, a sheepish grin that shown with amusement by the entire situation, and by the fact that he’d been able to show her up.
“What?”
“Yeah, they’re free. I pay them. Get it? Free to leave at any time they wish. They receive payment. As in galleons, sickles and knuts. Does it surprise you, Granger, that I’ve changed? That I’m no longer the devilish prat I was in school? You’ll have to rid yourself of these preconceived notions about me, Granger. You’ll find that I’m not the boy I used to be, in fact, I’m an entirely different man. I’ve yet to send a Cruciatus Curse your way and I’ve not once used ‘mudblood’ as an endearing slur of identification for you. But if you’d enjoy continuing with your assumptions I might as well give you-”
“Alright! I get it. I’m sorry. Old habits die hard, Malfoy, they do for me even if they don’t for you.” Gesturing to the table she sat down, waved her wand and sent the platter of cooked pancakes to lay in front of her. Forks, knives and plates began to dance in the air, moving to their own tune before sitting in an arrangement that would have made her finishing school instructor nod with approval.
“They die hard for me too. I still have a greedy sexual appetite and am renowned with the ladies for my ability to make them scream. Care to take me for a test drive, Granger?” The nonchalance in his voice made it difficult for Hermione to peg his seriousness, but by the ever present smirk on his face she decided he had a sense of humour.
“Don’t tease, Draco, I might just decide to jump your bones.”
“Oh please do.”
“How’s next week for you?”
“Playful are we? Careful, Granger, you’ll find that if you play with a snake, you’re bound to get bitten. No pun intended.” He contemplated a moment, levitated a pancake onto his plate and added, “Okay maybe a little.”
“Mmm” She licked her lips to get rid of what chocolate was left on her lips and with that he was up out of his chair before she could say ‘pureblood’. Grabbing her wrists quickly, he pulled her up towards him. The grey eyes, like stones, looked into hers and in a moment his lips were crashing down on hers. It was like a mating ritual of tongues, a passion so powerful she thought she might perish from it. His tongue was dancing with hers and his lips were doing things she thought should be illegal. How could he make her surrender with a kiss? “Malfoy-” She moaned out his name, as his hand gripper her hips, drawing her body closer to his so she could feel his manhood peaked against her stomach. “Oh god-” Practically unable to breathe as his mouth left hers and his tongue proceeded to run up her jaw line. Hitching air came in and out, she didn’t notice when he hauled her up and set her on the counter. Involuntarily, she folded her legs around him, wanting only to feel him close to her. Body taking over, she didn’t think, she just allowed her body to do it all for her. Hands were tangled in his hair, her legs wrapped like a vice around his back; she tipped back her head so his mouth could suck the skin on her collar bone into his mouth. She was starving for him, and he’d given her a taste of what it could be like. When he pulled away, neither of them were steady and he was appalled at his lack of control. Her forehead dropped to his and she sighed, knowing they were moving way too fast.
“We can’t Hermione, you know we can’t-”
“Why not? Why can’t we? Don’t you want me?” Like a cat, she purred, let her hands roam freely against his rock hard chest. He battled with himself, but pulled her from him.
“Hell, Hermione, I want you and that’s why this can’t happen. Not like this. On the goddamn kitchen island? No, I don’t want it to be like that, but it almost was, you know it was.” Brushing strands of her air behind an ear, he pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek and left her there- confused, frustrated, disheveled, and horny.
---
When Draco woke the next morning it was due to the relentless sun that refused to go away and a rather ambrosial smell that was wafting into his room. Flipping back the covers angrily he, for the first time, wondered where his house elves were. He’d been up so long that he’d forgotten to ask where Hermione would put them. After pulling on a pair of slacks from the wardrobe and a soft cotton blend polo he decided he wanted to investigate what was causing the heavenly scent. Not bothering with shoes, Draco ran out the door and down the stairs. Taking in his surroundings, he realized the only parts of his new home he’d seen were a series of hallways, his own bedroom and Hermione’s. In fact, he found it rather interesting that he’d seen Hermione’s rooms before having set foot in any other room in the house. Without knowing where he was going Draco followed his nose; he was, after all, a man of conviction.
.
He managed to find the smell as he swung open a door to what he assumed would be the kitchen, and found Hermione along with his two elves chatting merrily as they flipped pancakes on the stove. Perfectly content to watch them cook, he took in her appearance; she wore jeans and a t-shirt, and an apron was fastened around her. There was powder in the shape of fingers across her bum; he imagined she probably had the same prints on the front as well.
“Good morning.” The chaos that ensued was charming for him to watch; Hermione, who had been completely unaware of his presence, jerked slightly and the pancake that had been gingerly cooking went flying out of the frying pan through the air.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” And the pancake stopped in mid air, hovered for a moment and returned to its pan. “Rule number one: Don’t sneak up on the cook.” Her grin was wide and magical, she was stunning when she stood there but when she smiled she radiated the very beauty in the fiber of her being.
“Anymore rules, Granger? Don’t distract the cook, because the pancake may burn, for example?” Smoke had begun to arise on the fly away pancake. He sneered at her, not the sneer that had been so typical of Malfoy in school, but a playful one. With his own wand he lifted the pancake and brought it to him. He inspected it a moment, cast a charm and it was, once again, a perfect golden brown. Noticing the chocolate chips he fought the urge to hug her, he loved a woman with enough adolescence still in her to put bits of chocolate in food. With a hungry bite he mumbled something about chocolate pancakes being his favorite.
“Your elves have been helping me cook.” There was a slight snarl under the tone of mirth and happiness; he expected he’d find out why in a moment. “I don’t like having elves as property in my house, Malfoy. I think it’s rather despicable-”
“Don’t go putting that stick up your arse again, Granger; I’ve begun to find you utterly entertaining. Now before you rip my head off- or decide to torture me under all a manner of other despicable things- which I can tell you’re contemplating by the darts your enchanting amber eyes are currently shooting at me- let me inform you that these are free elves who have chosen to remain with me because I pay them for their services.” With another bite out of the pancake he grinned, a sheepish grin that shown with amusement by the entire situation, and by the fact that he’d been able to show her up.
“What?”
“Yeah, they’re free. I pay them. Get it? Free to leave at any time they wish. They receive payment. As in galleons, sickles and knuts. Does it surprise you, Granger, that I’ve changed? That I’m no longer the devilish prat I was in school? You’ll have to rid yourself of these preconceived notions about me, Granger. You’ll find that I’m not the boy I used to be, in fact, I’m an entirely different man. I’ve yet to send a Cruciatus Curse your way and I’ve not once used ‘mudblood’ as an endearing slur of identification for you. But if you’d enjoy continuing with your assumptions I might as well give you-”
“Alright! I get it. I’m sorry. Old habits die hard, Malfoy, they do for me even if they don’t for you.” Gesturing to the table she sat down, waved her wand and sent the platter of cooked pancakes to lay in front of her. Forks, knives and plates began to dance in the air, moving to their own tune before sitting in an arrangement that would have made her finishing school instructor nod with approval.
“They die hard for me too. I still have a greedy sexual appetite and am renowned with the ladies for my ability to make them scream. Care to take me for a test drive, Granger?” The nonchalance in his voice made it difficult for Hermione to peg his seriousness, but by the ever present smirk on his face she decided he had a sense of humour.
“Don’t tease, Draco, I might just decide to jump your bones.”
“Oh please do.”
“How’s next week for you?”
“Playful are we? Careful, Granger, you’ll find that if you play with a snake, you’re bound to get bitten. No pun intended.” He contemplated a moment, levitated a pancake onto his plate and added, “Okay maybe a little.”
“Mmm” She licked her lips to get rid of what chocolate was left on her lips and with that he was up out of his chair before she could say ‘pureblood’. Grabbing her wrists quickly, he pulled her up towards him. The grey eyes, like stones, looked into hers and in a moment his lips were crashing down on hers. It was like a mating ritual of tongues, a passion so powerful she thought she might perish from it. His tongue was dancing with hers and his lips were doing things she thought should be illegal. How could he make her surrender with a kiss? “Malfoy-” She moaned out his name, as his hand gripper her hips, drawing her body closer to his so she could feel his manhood peaked against her stomach. “Oh god-” Practically unable to breathe as his mouth left hers and his tongue proceeded to run up her jaw line. Hitching air came in and out, she didn’t notice when he hauled her up and set her on the counter. Involuntarily, she folded her legs around him, wanting only to feel him close to her. Body taking over, she didn’t think, she just allowed her body to do it all for her. Hands were tangled in his hair, her legs wrapped like a vice around his back; she tipped back her head so his mouth could suck the skin on her collar bone into his mouth. She was starving for him, and he’d given her a taste of what it could be like. When he pulled away, neither of them were steady and he was appalled at his lack of control. Her forehead dropped to his and she sighed, knowing they were moving way too fast.
“We can’t Hermione, you know we can’t-”
“Why not? Why can’t we? Don’t you want me?” Like a cat, she purred, let her hands roam freely against his rock hard chest. He battled with himself, but pulled her from him.
“Hell, Hermione, I want you and that’s why this can’t happen. Not like this. On the goddamn kitchen island? No, I don’t want it to be like that, but it almost was, you know it was.” Brushing strands of her air behind an ear, he pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek and left her there- confused, frustrated, disheveled, and horny.