The Deflowering of Draco Malfoy

The Rise of Naked Hermione
~*~


It was the day after Halloween and there was only one topic of conversation buzzing about the school: The head boy, the Slytherin Stud who had seemingly blossomed overnight, was dating Pansy Parkinson. Hermione had spent the morning handing out detentions and docking house points to all the gossiping students, under the pretense of ‘clogging up the hallways for non school related reasons.’ She was making quite a scene, and by lunchtime everyone had started giving her a wide berth.

Upon entering the Great Hall, she made a beeline for Harry and Ron. She needed to vent some of her anger in a non-sexual way. This was new to her, as the past two months had been spent having angry and rough sex with her two best friends. Every time she had seen Draco flee from their shared common room as soon as she would arrive left her with an empty feeling, one that she would quickly run off to replace with sexual gratification.

Usually this left her even more irritated, as she couldn’t deny that her time with Draco was better. She would shout all kinds of orders in the throws of passion, but still she was left unsatisfied. Afterwards she couldn’t hold back some of her frustrations, and tended to lash out at her two lovers. So in turn, Harry and Ron had started avoiding her, and were spending a lot more time hiding out in the library. Hermione hadn’t been able to return there since that one fateful night. She had accomplished her number eight goal and destroyed any chance of continuing on to number nine all at once. ‘Do the bookworm in the library’ had seemed like such a grand idea. What had went wrong?

Arriving at the Gryffindor table deep in thought, she sat down across from her partners in crime and immediately started on her rant.

“-Oh and that’s not the worst of it! He brought her back to our room last night, ugh, you should have seen it! The way she was fawning over him and her laugh! Ick! It was like listening to a band of musical saws, and it echoed all the way up to my room all bloody night. And then I heard her before she left. She was talking about how she thought he was ‘the one.’ Like there’s a such thing. She threw herself at him all night and barely kissed him. Then all morning all I hear is how cute a couple they make. It’s so obvious she’s just using him as arm candy… Are you listening?” she asked, finally realizing that her friends weren’t giving her their undivided attention.

“Yeah-oh shit- Yes!” Harry practically moaned. Moaned! Right in the middle of the packed Great Hall. He was looking unusually stiff and his knuckles were white from gripping the table so hard. Ron on the other hand had an unmistakable devilish glint in his eyes. Hermione leaned back to check what was going on under the table. Nothing looked out of the ordinary though, and it appeared that they were keeping their hands to themselves. Ron wasn’t even eating, his hands were just sitting innocently in his lap.

Just when she thought she was imagining things, Harry pounded the table with his fist, making the plates rattle and the first years nearby choke on their scrambled eggs.

“Harry James Potter! You can’t just have an orgasm at breakfast! You stop whatever it is you are up to right this instant!”

Harry closed his eyes, blocking her out and gripping the table harder than ever, slightly rocking back and forth in his seat. Ron’s smirk widened.

“No need to go all McGonagall on him ‘Mione, he’s almost done.”

And sure enough, Harry’s face scrunched up and then relaxed. He let out a low growl and a shudder ran through his body. His rigid posture slackened after a few moments, and when he opened his eyes a huge grin split across his face.

Hermione was livid.

“Thanks mate, I really needed that,” Harry sighed as his breathing returned to normal.

“What do you mean ‘thanks mate’? What exactly are you two playing at here?” the angry brunette demanded. Her friends were not only ignoring her in a time of crisis, but they were clearly enjoying themselves. Worst of all, she had no idea how they were doing so, and no one else was giving them a second look now that Harry wasn’t interrupting their meal. She had a sneaking suspicion that Harry had cast the ‘Muffliato’charm over their fellow diners.

“Well as you know we’ve been spending some extra time studying in the library. And well... let’s just say that there are thousands of books, and if you filter out the ‘Hogwarts, A History’s, Standard Book of Spells,’ and all that Lockhart dung, you can actually find something useful.”

Hermione felt her anger ebb away as curiosity took over. She just couldn’t stay mad at the two goons. Their sly grins were always her downfall.

“So what kind of ‘useful’ spell book did you find?” she asked them. They seemed to sense that they were out of the danger zone, and immediately their eyes lit. They loved to share their discoveries.

“One on fun things to do with a disillusionment charm. You know, ways of tweaking it to suite the caster’s needs. Like say, if Harry here wanted a morning wank with his French toast, and I so happened to oblige, it would give the illusion that my hands never left my lap. And that The Chosen One didn’t just spooge all over the underside of the table,” Ron stated smugly.

Hermione couldn’t help but join in on the excitement when she thought of all the possibilities. The spell might be exactly what she needed.

“And how would one perform such a feat?”

“It’s kind of complicated. You have to use a disillusionment spell on your arms, and a glamour charm as well, so that they appear to just be hanging at your sides or whatever you can manage.”

Hermione thought for a second, then pulled out her wand and performed the necessary charms. She looked down and she could see her arms in front of her, pushing food across her plate, but she could feel them holding her wand at her side.

“Amazing,” she whispered.

“What? Are you doing it?”

She reached across the table to flick Harry in the nose. He stared in amazement, feeling the flick but never seeing her hands leave the plate in front of her.

“No way! That’s impossible. It took us over a week to get it down, and all I can do is make mine fold across my chest, and Ron can only make his sit in his lap.” Harry looked thoughtful for a moment, then started again. “You know, if you actually applied yourself… you could do well… anything!”

Hermione smiled uncomfortably, wracking her brain for some sarcastic response. She knew he was only trying to compliment her, but she didn’t like hearing about her long lost potential. It only made her feel awkward, and deep down, somewhat guilty. In the end she couldn’t think of anything to say, and chose to ignore the comment altogether.

“So it’s working then?”

Both men nodded and grinned at her, still in awe. Hermione found it hard to suppress her glee. “So what about covering up your naked man parts?”

“Oh that’s easy,” Ron gushed. “You just use a disappearing charm on parts of your clothes, but set it so that only certain people can see. Now that we know you’re not going to bite our heads off, we’ll make sure to let you in on the action next time, or even right now if you want,” he finished, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

Hermione had to take a deep calming breath at this point, to prevent herself from leaping out of her seat and cheering.

“I’ll have to take a rain check…how did the two of you find all this out, anyways?”

“Books,” they both shrugged in unison.

“We accidentally stumbled upon the ’Invisible Book of Invisibility.’” Harry added. “Turns out you just have to lick the cover and it will materialize. Who would’ve thought?”

Hermione decided that she didn’t want to know how they had discovered that an invisible book needed licking in order to be read, and instead focused on what she was going to do with all the new information. Her smile was fixed.

‘Oh the possibilities….’

Draco Malfoy wouldn’t know what hit him.


****

The last bell of the day rang, and no one was more excited to venture on from the stuffy Divination classroom into the crowded corridors than Hermione. Even though one hour of making up new ways for The Boy Who Lived Again to die a gruesome death, (most recent of which was ingesting tainted Nargle poo) had left her feeling considerably dumber, the fresh air seemed to reawaken her sense of adventure… and a deep burning desire to reclaim what was rightfully hers.

She shook off Harry and Ron under the trap door, claiming an urgent trip to the loo was in order. She then hurried off to the sixth floor, where she knew Draco would just be getting out of Arithmancy.

She thought back to third year when the time came to choose new classes. She had almost taken Arithmancy as well. Numbers really did fascinate her, especially in the magical context. It was supposed to be one of the most difficult subjects taught at Hogwarts though, and required long essays and hours of research. So in the end, she had taken the easy route and chose Divination instead. It didn’t interest her in the slightest. As far as she was concerned, the three hours a week stuck in the smoky tower room would have been better spent hitting her head against a concrete wall.

‘Oh well…’ she thought.

That was then, and this was now. And right now, she was a predator on the prowl, and her prey just so happened to be prancing pompously down the hall with Pansy Parkinson. Pug-nosed, petty, pathetic, puffy, prissy… ‘Ok that’s enough,’ she scolded her brain. Now was not the time for annoying alliterations.

It was time to focus on the plan, the genius and foolproof plan that would have the Head Boy eating out of the palm of her hand before she could say skankoid.

She quickly honed in on him, synchronizing her walk with his and falling smoothly in line behind him. She cast the charms on herself, making her arms appear as if they were swinging nonchalantly at her side. It was a very strange feeling of detachment, one that she wasn’t sure she could ever get used to.

She watched as Draco whispered something in Pansy’s ear, and the girl let out and over-exaggerated giggle at whatever he said. Well if you could call it a giggle… a dying Mandrake was more pleasant to the ears.

Suddenly her wand had gotten away from her, and a miraculous trip jinx found its way around the Head Boy’s ankles, cast by an invisible hand. So maybe that wasn’t part of the plan, but seeing Draco sprawled out on the floor and Pansy’s hurried attempts to pull him up made her start to appreciate the power of improvisation. Then Draco’s bag split open, and a dozen and one heavy books spilled across the floor; the icing on the cake.

“Draco get up, you’re embarrassing me!” Pansy snarled at him.

His eyes flashed in anger as he collected his belongings. Pansy wasn’t even helping him, just standing off to the side twirling a lock of hair around her finger. Hermione felt a pang of guilt and had to force herself to remain on the sidelines. He had to come crawling back to her, not the other way around.

He repaired his bag with a flick of his wand, shoving the numerous volumes back inside. Hermione was saddened to see that he was now carrying it in front of him, and that her plan was going to have to wait for another opportunity. He continued on his way with a hardened expression, while the cock-tease queen returned to her fake simpering self, nuzzling her head against his broad shoulder. Hermione had a difficult time keeping her disillusioned arms under control, reminding herself that she was in fact the Head Girl, and in a corridor full of potential witnesses.

She sighed and ended the spells, as there was no need for them any longer. She was about to change directions and just go to her dorms, when she spotted a heavy brown book lying on the floor. She figured Draco had forgotten it, and quickly bent down to lug it away with her.

Back in her private bedroom, she further examined the old book. It was ‘Hogwarts, a History,’ the gospel of the geek community. She had never taken the time to read the thing herself, but had heard it being quoted on several occasions. Mostly by Neville Longbottom, the resident Gryffindor nerd. Hermione had a better use for the book than literary purposes though. It would be the perfect bait when the time came for phase two of her perfect plan.

***

One week later, everything was moving along on schedule. Hermione had really outdone herself this time, she didn’t even put so much effort into her morning primping routine! Every time she would pass Draco in the corridors, staircases, or in their shared classes, she would run a disillusioned finger out to caress his most sensitive place.

The first time she had caught him was in Advanced Potions. He was on his way up to Professor Snape’s desk to hand in his Hair Growth solution for grading, when she had stuck out an invisible hand for a quick graze between his legs. He had thrown his vial of potion into the air in surprise, and it landed smack dab in the middle of Pansy’s face, who was following behind him like the lap dog she was. She had a mustache and beard for the rest of the day, and Hermione had a mad fit of the giggles each time she passed a student with even the tiniest inkling of facial hair.

The second time she had ignited his love torch was Tuesday afternoon, on the staircase up to the second floor. Harry and Ron were on either side of her, talking with one another about quidditch as if she weren’t there. After a few tries, she had managed to charm her makeshift arms to hold her books against her chest, so there would be no way Draco could suspect her.

She slowed her pace ever so slightly, so that Draco and Pansy were only an arms length away, walking behind her and her two oblivious friends. Chancing a quick glance behind her to check that their proximity was correct, she saw that his front was perfectly exposed to her. He was carrying his books under his arms at his side, and wore a bored blank expression, that Hermione was sure to wipe away.

As she reached out her invisible hand to grasp his sizeable manhood through the dark robes, not once did a negative thought cross her mind. She didn’t feel that she was violating his personal space, nor did she acknowledge that she could get in serious trouble if she was caught. She was a woman on a mission, so naturally all consequences were shoved to the background. After all, he had been inside of her, so in her eyes, he no longer held sole custody of his genitalia… finders keepers.

Back to her strategically placed palm though… It amazed her how the briefest of touches could yield such severe results. There was a fraction of a second of firm grip, which slackened to a gentle squeeze, then lightly brushed up an over the bulge she was awakening. He stopped in his tracks, but she kept up her pace, and as quickly as the contact had begun, it was gone. A sharp intake of breath, the thud of heavy books colliding with hard stone, and a few well chosen swear words told Hermione that she had been successful.

At the top of the narrow staircase she glanced over her shoulder, reveling in the spectacle before her. Pansy was on the ground, with a big hairy sixth year draping over her. Draco was just getting to his feet, and about twenty other students had fallen over themselves, clogging up the small space entirely. Hermione was a genius, and Draco and Pansy didn’t have a chance in hell of getting out alive.

“Hermione two, Skankoid and Book Boy zilch,” she whispered under her breath, a satisfied smirk playing her perfectly lacquered lips.

“Did you say something, ‘Mione?” Ron asked, finally coming out of his quidditch talk trance. Hermione couldn’t believe that neither of her friends had noticed the Class III traffic jam that had taken place barely five feet from them. She would never understand the obsession with such a dull sport. In a trivial attempt to make sense of the phenomenon, she deduced that the two men did love balls, and quidditch had four of them. She shrugged, realizing that she would always be second to the sport until she miraculously spouted ball quintuplets. Nope… wasn’t going to happen any time soon. So in the mean time, she would drift off into naked Head Boy land once she had ensured that her friends would not disturb her.

“Nothing really, just that I thought Ivanov Strowarski is bound to bring Germany the cup this year.”

And they were off.. and she was off.. and all was well.

***

The rest of the week she had continued her torturous touches and sneaky caresses. By late Thursday, her hand discovered him rock hard beneath his robes, and the same went for Friday morning. He was now reacting to just seeing her, and she decided that it was time to step it up a notch, and really test his restraint.

Sunday night found Hermione in the pristine marble bathroom that connected the two Heads’ dorms. Her long hair lay in loose waves, cascading down her bare back and shoulders. She added a touch of sheer lip-gloss and black mascara, but other than that, she was completely nude. She was pacing back and forth waiting for her cue. The alarm she had set, warning her when Draco returned to their quarters had gone off over fifteen minutes ago, and her patience was waning. She had tacked up a note on the blonde’s bathroom door, stating that she had found his book. She had expected him to come barging through the threshold the second he saw mention of his beloved Hogwart’s book, but so far she had had no such luck.

Ten more minutes of staring at her reflection in the mirror and counting floor tiles, and finally a soft knock was heard, and then Draco was there in the open door, open-mouthed. She jumped, feigning shock and making sure he got an eye full before she grabbed a towel and covered herself, strategically positioning her crossed arms to accentuate her bosom.

“Knock much?” she asked in a scathing tone. She was contented to see his bulging eyes, and his inability to form a response with a jaw that was locked in the ‘Oh’ position. Mumbling incoherently under his breath, he backed out of the room.

Once the door was closed securely behind him, Hermione doubled up in silent laughter, jumping up and down like a hyperactive schoolgirl. This was just too easy. If Draco wasn’t in his room at that very moment attending to a massive boner in her honor, well, she knew that he most certainly was, so there was no need for a wager. Her mirror self was shaking her head, mouthing ‘You are so bad,’ at the real Hermione.

Yes, she was bad, but she was oh so very good at it. Plus, when a tall, chiseled, blonde sex god was involved, it was just oh so much fun.


***

After the bathroom incident had gone so well, Hermione decided that it was time to turn up the heat. On Monday morning, her routine not only consisted of the usual charms to control her hair and apply a light coat of make-up, but a disappearing charm on her robes as well.

“Now you see me, now you don’t. Now you see me, now you don’t. Naked. Clothed. Naked. Clothed. Slutty Slytherin. Innocent Hufflepuff. Paris Hilton. Mother Teresa....” She chanted happily to herself, turning the disappearing charm on and off. She reluctantly stopped when her mirror-self rolled her eyes at her and stomped out of the frame.

The charms in place, tweaked just right so that only the Head Boy could see underneath her uniform, she left for breakfast, humming merrily to herself. No one commented on her appearance, which she took as a good sign that the charms had been administered correctly. She noticed that Draco was taking extra care not to look in her direction, but he couldn’t keep that up for long. Hermione would make sure of it.

***

Meanwhile, in a corridor far, far away, Draco Malfoy was adjusting his robes in a failing attempt to hide his first erection of the day. He had been pitching a tent on a regular basis for over a week, and had pulled a muscle in his right arm trying to deal with it. He didn’t understand where all the sudden feelings between his legs were coming from, only that they were becoming more frequent and more intense with each passing day.

At first he had thought it was because of Pansy. She was attractive and she had a knack for finding ways to always be touching him. In the beginning he hadn’t minded, but when he had leaned in for a kiss and been rejected, he couldn’t help but to feel annoyed. He had then tried to keep a little more distance with his girlfriend, so he wouldn’t be tempted to overstep any boundaries with her. He was unsuccessful though. It seemed like the less attention he paid her, the more affectionate she became.

He then decided that this was the reason his manhood seemed so responsive to the presence of the Head Girl. Not because he secretly wanted her instead of his girlfriend, but because of lack of stimulation from the opposite sex. Whenever he would see Hermione, he could almost feel her on him. It was infuriating, because he had promised himself that he wouldn’t fall for her games anymore, and chance anything less than eleven ‘Outstanding’s on his NEWTS.

Then, like a heavenly gift, he saw the note on his bathroom door claiming that his only chance at sanity, ‘Hogwarts, a History,’ had been recovered. He had charged through the door, more than ready to immerse himself in the mundane facts and figures. Instead of his cherished book however, he found only breasts. Two of the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen. Then there was the creamy tanned skin and the legs that went on for days, not to mention a glimpse of those silky folds.

Those sweet reminiscing thoughts were how he had landed in such a compromising position once again. He had left for breakfast early because he didn’t want to run into Hermione, but it seemed that she refused to stay out of his head. He had to flee down a hidden staircase hidden by a tapestry to adjust himself. He found it quite impossible to completely hide the sizeable erection though, and vowed that his first task after school would be to invent a hormone removal potion.

He sighed into the hard stone that made up the dingy corridor, then began to lightly hit his head against it.

“Snape. McGonagall. Dead puffskeins. Goyle. Eloise Midgen. Snape. McGonagall….”

Slowly he felt himself deflating, and feeling extremely relieved, he backtracked for the Great Hall. He made a point not to look in the direction of the Gryffindor table, and focused solely on his omelet, which was made even more difficult when Pansy decided to trace shapes along his arm and thigh.

Walking up the stairs off the Entrance Hall after the dishes had cleared, Pansy at his side, he realized with a pang that his first class was Advanced Transfiguration… a class that he shared with a certain shapely Gryffindor Goddess.

He chose a seat in the far back of the class, wanting to keep out of the spotlight for once. A concession of black robes filed into the room.. Longbottom, Potter, Weasel, naked Hermione…

Draco choked on his tongue and went into a mad coughing fit. Gasping for air and pounding his chest, he chanced a second look at the brunette, to prove to himself that he had been imagining things. He visibly paled. Hermione had chosen a seat directly in front of him, seated between her two sidekicks, her light bare skin in stark contrast to their dark robes. The erection he had worked so hard to ease that morning was coming back with a vengeance. He swallowed hard, and moved his gaze to the rest of the class. No one else seemed to notice that one of their classmates had seemingly forgotten to clothe themselves that morning. It wasn’t possible… something as serious as this was bound to cause some sort of reaction. Everyone was going about as if nothing was out of the ordinary, as if they couldn’t see Hermione’s pert nipples and the soft curve of her bare bottom on the chair.

Then it hit him. Maybe he was the only one who could see her. After walking in on her in their bathroom he must be having hallucinations. He scrunched his eyes shut, then opened them and took another peek. Nope, she was still naked. He tried again, closing his eyes as hard as possible before peering back at her through squinted lids. All he saw was flesh- soft, milky, heavenly flesh. He made one last feeble attempt, but third time was not the charm. Hermione was still naked as naked could get.

He stared blankly at the desk in front of him, feeling his pores opening as sweat started to form on his brow. ‘McGonagall. Snape. McGonagall. Snape…’

“Are you paying attention, Mr. Malfoy?”

‘Shit, McGonagall.’

“Y-yes, professor.”

“Then you can tell me the incantation for transfiguring beetle eyes into wastepaper baskets.”

“It’s umm…” ‘Naked Hermione.’ “It’s….” ‘Boobies! Vagina!’ “I don’t know professor,” he said softly, hanging his head in shame. For the first time, he had failed to answer a question.

That was only the beginning though. As the week progressed, he had forgotten two homework assignments, lost 20 points for Slytherin, and earned himself a detention with professor Snape. Friday couldn’t come soon enough. Naked Hermione had taken over his every waking moment, and haunted his dreams. In potions she was naked. Herbology- naked. She was naked in the corridors, and the stairwells, and on the grounds. She was even naked in Care of fucking Magical Creatures, and Draco had the Ashwinder egg burns to prove it.

Thank Merlin for Friday. He was going to hide out in the Slytherin common room and surround himself with unattractive male counterparts, until his visions were driven far out of his head.

He reached a sweaty hand into the inner pocket of his robes, and withdrew an antique pocket watch that had once belonged to his grandfather. By the dim torchlight that lined the dungeon hallway, he read “5:24.”

“5:24pm… the time that I, Draco Malfoy, declare myself officially insane.”






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I know it has been forever since I updated this, but Repercussions is getting all serious and I felt the need to let out some pent up randomness. I wasn’t sure if I was going to update at all actually. I got an email about this story saying that I had no right to call it a Hermione and Draco story since I changed the characters so much, and they went on and on to include a whole bunch of unnecessary insults. To this I have two things to say… Firstly, I warned everyone in the summary that it was SERIOUSLY OOC, and if my fanfiction lingo is correct, OOC means out of character, meaning that they are meant to not be like they are in the books. Secondly, if we weren’t allowed to changed their personalities at all, then Hermione and Draco would never ever end up together, and what fun would that be? And thirdly, it’s FANFICTION, get over it!! Ok maybe I had three things to say…

Sorry, I just had to get that off my chest. I feel better now :)

Anywhoo, good news(for some of you) is that I have an almost semi-plot figured out for this story, so it will most likely continue, and I also have part of the next chapter written… you will get to meet Crabbe and Goyle, well my contorted version of them ; ) Bad news is that I am struggling to find time to write. One of my roomies broke up with their g/f and they are always around now. I mean I love my roomies, I really do, but a girl can only take so much of a mopey man… the past two days I couldn’t even escape him to brush my teeth!

As always, thanks to everyone who reviewed. I seriously am addicted to reviews, but it’s sad that the one mean email overshadowed all the nice comments. I’m def going to try not to let that happen again, but sometimes it’s hard, especially when you are stressed and it is just that time of the month and even your sweet little puppy turns into an asshole in your eyes lol.

Anywhoo again, I apoligize for the lack of smut in this chapter, I guess I just have to make it up in the next one. Do I dare venture out of my comfort zone a little and have them get kind of kinky in bed? I am torn, I don’t think I could effectively write anything too crazy, but I am tempted to try some things… any suggestions?

OOO and one more thing(I promise!). Can someone please beta this for me so I can post it on GE without breaking any of the rules? Pretty please?

Reading and reviewing = naked Draco for everyone!