Pictures

Waiting for her parents at the close of the graduation ceremony, Hermione took a moment to study Malfoy. He was standing with the Zabini family with his usual smug expression on his face. He seemed happy enough, but Hermione noticed that his mother wasn’t there. She had of course sent flowers and the Excelcius V, the latest model of broom, but her pressing engagements in France couldn’t be bothered for her son’s graduation. Since his mother was really the only family he had, that meant that Draco was quite alone. She almost felt sorry for him.

“Oh, darling, we’re so proud of you! You can’t imagine what sight it was to watch our little girl give a speech as Head Girl at her own graduation ceremony. You really have grown into quite a young lady.” Hermione was roused from her thoughts by her mother’s crushing embrace. Her father followed after and Hermione grinned up at the two people that had raised her. Marcus and Jane Granger were two very attractive middle aged muggles and it was clear to see that Hermione was going to look exactly like her mother with her father’s curly hair.

“I’m so glad you came, Mum, Dad.”

“Of course we came, we wouldn’t miss this for the world. It’s all so fascinating. Oh look, there are the Weasleys.” While her father gestured to the mass of red hair and freckles, her mother smoothed non-existent wrinkles out of her daughters dress. Hermione was wearing a white eyelet lace dress with red embroidery on it. She had opted for muggle dress under her graduation robes to show that she was proud of her heritage.

As the Weasley family walked over to her, Molly Weasley enfolded her in a tearful hug. Fred and George congratulated her and teased her and Ginny hugged her and giggled next to her while Harry offered up his own congratulations. In the midst of it all, Hermione couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with Ron. The two had only spoken in short, clipped sentences around each other since the day she had found out about Lavender. Lavender had cornered Hermione at one point and had apologized, but went on to say that she and Ron were in love and that the whole school had been expecting this for ages. Hermione found it easier to forgive Lavender than she did her best friend. Ron kept looking at his feet. The whole day Mrs. Weasley kept dropping snide comments to let her son know what she thought of his choice in women. Molly had been planning Ron and Hermione’s wedding for years.

“-and then I was thinking we could all go to London for a stay, what do you think, Hermione?” Hermione hadn’t even realized that Harry was talking to her, let alone making plans.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I was just thinking too hard. What were you saying?”

“Honestly, if it weren’t for thinking I doubt Hermione would have ever gotten into any trouble at all!” laughed Jane Granger.

“I know, she never gave us any trouble at all, except when she thought too hard about a rule and decided it was unfair.” Marcus agreed with his wife.

“That’s our Hermione, always doing the right thing. She’s always been the level-headed one of our group.” Harry lovingly put his arm around Hermione’s shoulders and Hermione nervously smiled at him. How level headed would he think her when he found out about her drunken romp with Malfoy?

“So what do you think? Would you want to go to London the first part of July?” Ginny looked at Hermione, eagerly wishing her to say yes.

“Yes, it’s going to be so much fun! I can’t wait to see all the muggle fashions.” Lavender piped up.

“Actually, I’ve already promised a friend that I’d go see her in Italy.”

“What? Who?” Jane Granger was slightly confused.

“Francesca Scarpelli, you remember her from my primary school?”

“Oh, yes! The two of you were such good friends when you were small. I didn’t know the two of you had kept up contact after she moved to Italy with her parents. Will you be staying with them? Where do they live?”

Deciding to stick as close to the truth as possible, Hermione replied, “In Napoli. They have a cottage on the beach and since Francesca is graduating as well, they thought it would be nice to have one last hurrah.”

‘Oh, that’s lovely, dear,” said Molly Weasley. “Well, when you get back, give us a visit and you and Harry and Ron can all go looking for flats together.”

The Weasleys and Harry moved towards the Gryffindor table, ready to nosh on the food that had been prepared for the reception. While Hermione stood talking to her parents, Malfoy moved closer, watching her interact with them with interest. Suddenly Marcus noticed him, “Hello. Aren’t you the head boy?”

Sticking out his hand, Draco gave his name. “Draco Malfoy, and yes I’m Head Boy. You must be Hermione’s parents. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well. Are your parents here?”

“No, my father is gone and my mother had an emergency, so she couldn’t make it.”

“Oh, that’s too bad, dear. You should come sit with us.” Inwardly, Hermione gulped at her mother’s invitation. She almost had apoplexy when Draco agreed. Following them into the Great Hall, Hermione could barely control her breathing. Her parents found Draco to be positively delightful. They had no idea that it was his father who had made them feel so unwelcome in the wizarding world during her second year. Watching her parents be charmed by Malfoy , she prayed that he wouldn’t say anything untoward. Hearing her mother’s laughter she turned her attention back to the people whose company she was sharing.

“Hermione, I can’t believe you never told us about him. He’s wonderful.” Hermione gave her mother a wilted look.

“Actually, she has very good reason not to have told you anything about me. My father wasn’t exactly on the right side of the war we just experienced, which I’m sure you know about, and during my early years at Hogwarts I wasn’t exactly kind towards your daughter. However, I do not share my father’s beliefs on interacting with muggles and muggle borns. Hermione is partially to be credited for that since she is the brightest witch of our age and a muggle born to boot. I’ve experienced a lot of pleasure with her, working together as heads.” Hermione didn’t miss the emphasis on the word ‘pleasure’, but her parents didn’t think anything was amiss.

Desperate to change the subject, she spoke up. “So, where is Chris? Could he not make it?” Hermione’s parents’ mood immediately dropped at the mention of her brother. Six years older than Hermione, Christopher Granger was everything his baby sister was not. Always in trouble, often lazy and untrustworthy, Chris’ redeeming qualities were that he was a perfect charmer and always fun to be around. That fun often included illegal activities and he often had to be bailed out of trouble by his parents.

“You’re brother had some prior engagements that couldn’t be ignored.” Her mother explained away his absence, but Hermione knew he was probably on a binger somewhere. Because her parents loved her brother, they did their best to help him, but often gave him the benefit of the doubt when he needed a strict hand. It seemed that they had decided early on that Hermione was sensible one and Chris the flaky child and treated them accordingly.

“I think I’m going to get some of this butter beer stuff, does anyone want anything while I’m up?” Hermione’s father mercilessly ended the awkward silence that had arisen at the mention of Hermione’s brother.

“I think I’ll go with you,” Jane said, standing. “I want some more of these pumpkin pasties.” The two left leaving Hermione and Draco alone.

“So, Granger’s got a good-for-naught brother. No wonder you’re such an over-achiever, you’ve got to earn enough accolades for two.”

“Oh, shut it Malfoy. I can’t believe you! Talking to my parents like you haven’t spent the past seventeen years of your life thinking that muggles are inferior! Wipe that smug look off your face, you have no right to look like that.”

“Oh, I have every right to look like this, seeing as I fucked you on the Gryffindor table last night, coincidentally enough of which your friends are currently eating on it.” Hermione blushed as the memory of being laid out on the table while he pounded into her from behind filled her head.

“Besides,” he continued, “ I don’t think muggles are inferior, I just happen to know that wizarding life is much better. By the way, shagging you on the Gryffindor table, while delightful, was nothing in comparison to shagging you in the potions classroom.” Since it had been their last week at Hogwarts, Draco had insisted on shagging in a number of public places. They had shagged in the Astronomy Tower, the Great Hall, potions, transfiguration and arithmancy classrooms, the greenhouse, the quidditch pitch and even the Slytherin common room.

Thinking back on her week, Hermione thought about their encounters and found that rather than being disgusted by them, she actually was quite fond of the memories. Malfoy was a bloody good shag himself and a considerate lover. She found she liked being dominated and he often let her return the favor. She was shocked with herself because she felt like she should come away from the mandatory shags with a sick, used feeling. Instead, she found it annoying. Annoying, only because someone was making her do something for his own benefit and Hermione Granger did not like to be forced to do anything that yielded no practical benefit. But, she reasoned, she was young, healthy and attractive. She should enjoy sex and she would. So what if the only person willing to try her out also happened to be the most underhanded and cunning? If Ron had been willing to put a little effort into it, he would have found out exactly how good of a girl she could be. Thinking of Ron made something in her chest hurt.

When Ginny had found out about Ron and Lavender, she had been livid, but Hermione had made her promise not to make a scene. Harry had been upset as well, but no where near the fury that Ginny had felt. However, due to Hermione’s assurances that she would be okay and that it wasn’t a big deal, Lavender and Ron had become grudgingly accepted. Hermione was suddenly glad that she wasn’t going to spend a week in London with them. Although she told herself she was over it, she still felt like crying every time she saw Lavender wrap her arms around Ron’s broad shoulders. She wondered what was so awful about her that no one wanted to date her. Well, no one but Malfoy, that is and he only wanted to shag her. Throwing herself into her ‘relationship’ with Malfoy took her mind off of Ron.

Since their bargain began, she slowly began spending more time with Malfoy just because it hurt too much to go to the Gryffindor common room and watch Won-Won and Lav-Lav snog each other. Ginny understood and Harry believed her when she told them she just wanted to stay in her room and study. Spending time with Malfoy meant her brain focused on the unbelievable situation she was in. Maybe Ron didn’t see her as a sensual being, but someone did and that someone wanted her badly enough to blackmail her into shagging him. That someone also happened to be most sexually experienced boy at Hogwarts, so Hermione was quite confident in her skills. She’s been reading about sex since she was fourteen and Viktor Krum had snogged her senseless the night of the Yule Ball. Viktor had awakened certain things inside of her and she wanted to know more. Desperately hoping that Ron would be the one she could apply her book learning to, she kept waiting for him to make his move. He didn’t, and so Draco Malfoy had been the one she used as her practicum.

Her parents came back and Malfoy bid them farewell, but not before asking her to meet him one last time before she left. When her trunk was loaded onto the carriage, she sought out Malfoy. Walking into the wooded area around the entrance to Hogsmeade, she felt two strong arms wrap around her. She pressed against a tree trunk and Malfoy’s soft, full lips were on hers, his tongue gaining access to her mouth. The kiss made her moan and her hands reached up to his neck to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Breaking the kiss, Malfoy stared into her eyes.

“That’s to make certain you don’t forget our bargain and that it includes no sharing. I’ll owl you when I get home. You might want to go shopping, we leave in a week.”

“How am I supposed to contact you, though? I don’t have an owl.” Hermione was still holding onto him and he had his hands possessively resting on her hips.

“You’ll need to get one. Maybe we can pick one up in Italy. For now, you’ll just have to keep your schedule clear in case I need you.” He paused for a moment before stating, “Gods, I’m going to miss this.”

Hermione held her breath. “Miss what?” she asked.

“I’m going to miss fucking you on a daily basis,” he growled before claiming her mouth again.

As Hermione kissed him back, she was almost certain that he was going to say that he would miss her. The look in his eye made her think that that’s what he meant, he just hadn’t been able to say it. She wondered to herself why she was disappointed that he didn’t.