Broken Scales

The feast was over and Hermione finally felt like she was home, smiling at her familiar four poster bed while Crookshanks was curling up to sleep on her pillow. She slid her hands into the pockets of her cloak, making sure everything was out that she needed for the next day, when her fingertips grazed a cool smooth metal object. It was her badge. Pulling it out of her cloak she examined it, brow furrowed, but how she mused.

It was missing. Hermione was sure she had dropped it, along with half her stock of quills and parchment, when she had collided with Malfoy. Her face fell when she remembered she didn’t retrieve anything that was dropped; just ran away like a coward, after not being able to walk away from that poor owl.

How strange! She contemplated the days events with pure mortification. Without another moment of hesitation Hermione picked up her shower things. Maybe a bath would help wipe the days events from her mind and she was dying to check out the prefect’s private bathroom.

She loped down the stairs of the castle looking for the secret doorway. Finding it much sooner than expected she looked into the portrait of the mermaid. She whispered, “Vindication,” and the door swung open soundlessly revealing a huge marble room with a bathtub that could only loosely qualify as such. It was much closer to a small swimming pool laid in the cool stone floor.

Hermione’s breath caught in her chest as she marveled at the immense room. Smiling to herself, she placed her tote bag on the floor and bent to turn on the taps at the nearest end. The first one spewing lavender foam thick enough to support her weight; the other spouting multi shaded pink bubbles smelling of rose. The overbearing fragrances made Hermione groan. She had no desire to smell like a garden.

There was only one tap left as she twisted the knob. Mist started to rise from what seemed like small holes in the floor. The mist had no smell but covered the water and floor so thickly it was almost impossible to see them. Hermione smiled to herself and stood. With two small and very complicated wrist movements and a quiet murmur the floor was covered in hundreds of small candles. The room smelled of amber and spice.

Hermione undressed, then, laying her clothes upon the silk room divider she slid into the water. It was hot and felt more like a hot tub than a bathtub. She smiled and leaned against the wall, feeling her muscles relax almost instantly. Reaching for her wand, Hermione flicked it quickly and the music started a slow build of chellos and violins. She leaned her head back to purely enjoy the moment.

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Draco was finally relaxing, laying in his bed and staring up at the green bed coverings of his four poster. One of the few advantages of his heritage and the bastard’s money he thought as he lavished in his own room. Draco had the days events running through his mind in a montage of broken images, glossing over the uglier parts.

Then his brain came to a jarring halt. This morning at King Cross station, that klutz of a girl Granger had barreled into him. She was standing over him. He was slowing down the memory in his head and then he barked out a gasp of laughter. The prude was wearing a thong. He hadn’t even noticed it before. It was black and lacy, and over abundantly humorous. Granger wouldn’t know what to do with herself if any man wanted her other than injudicious Weasly.

He scoffed at the mention of the name in his thoughts. Then, came a sharp knock at the door. A groan escaped his lips. Only one person knocked on his door after 12 am. He seethed knowing it was Pansy.

He considered pretending he was asleep, although last time he had done this she shrieked his name so loudly that she woke up the whole dungeon. The second knock wasn’t as subtle it was more of a bang. Resigned he muttered the password and the door swung open smoothly. Pansy stood in the doorway, draped in a long satin robe. She did her best to purr his name as she stepped inside.

Malfoy immediately went to his happy place. His beautiful valkyrie seamlessly took Pansy’s place as the door shut behind her. Pansy crooned at him in her would be sexy voice, Malfoy closed his eyes and leaned back, “Hello Pan. Beautiful night don’t you think? Being back in the castle and all?”

Pansy dropped her robe to reveal a sexy Santa outfit complete with fur lined thigh highs.

Draco eyes widened in absolute horror. Pansy looked encouraged by the widening of his eyes as she swayed over to the bed to pose awkwardly against one of the bed posts. Malfoy’s happy place was shattered. His valkyrie was gone and his manhood was dangerously close to turning him to a different sex due to Pansy’s outlandish outfit.

“ Um Pan? What are you wearing?” fighting to keep his voice even, trying to steady his breathing.

Pansy turned giggling brightly “I am a naughty Santa Dracie… isn’t it super sexy? Watch this!” She flicked her wand and the fur trim lit up with green and red lights. Draco blinked while assessing the situation.

He couldn’t even fake interest when the girl was in this ridiculous outfit, not to mention it was September. “Take it off,” Draco’s voice was deep and grave, eigning desire, “Take it off now Parkinson and come here,” closing his eyes again silently, begging his fantasy girl to come out to play.
Suddenly Draco heard a crash slitting his eyes open just enough to see Pansy tripping over herself while fighting to get the outfit off her body.

The brunette was back, leaning against the bottom of his bed naked, crawling toward him. Immediately Draco was at attention.

He felt the weight as Pansy mirrored the actions of the girl in his head, slowly crawling up to him between his legs. He reached down and grabbed Pansy’s hair only seeing the image in his head and kissed her. He kissed her with all the passion he could muster. Leaning back against the pillow, hands folded behind his head, feeling the lips travel down his chest and hips, a moan escaping his lips. “Good girl, such a good girl,”

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Hermione was out of the bath now, the mist still swirling around her, the candles leaving a flickering, soft light all around her. She sat, towel wrapped around her waist, slowly brushing her hair, lost in the music.

Lost in her own slow thoughts of the day, her mind drifted back to the conversation with Ginny. A flash of silver in her mind’s eye, she had always noticed how beautiful they were but never allowed herself time to dwell on the fact. Draco is evil she thought, but he has filled out a little bit. His tiny figure had became more sinew with long smooth muscle under exquisitely pale smooth skin, The summer had been good to Draco Malfoy.

Her fingers had idly slid down her chest while she was thinking about the changes that had occurred.

Hermione gasped suddenly, ashamed of her own thoughts, but the swirling mist and candlelight lulled her back into thoughts of the boy pressed against her this morning; to the way he had invaded her personal space in the train.

His eyes were more intense then the color of storm clouds. The heat rolling off his body assaulting her body, never touching her, but so close in places that the pressure had changed between them.

Her mind drifted back to that moment of conflict. The train was empty in her mind and he had slammed her against the wall of the car. He pressed his body weight against her, pinning her with only his hips. His voice was rough and husky as he breathed on her throat.

He muttered what he would do to her if she fought him off. Hermione’s mind ran wild, her fingers pressed against her small nub, her breath ragged.


Her lips were wrapped around him tightly his body was tense now. Feeling his imaginary angel take him deeply, her intense melted chocolate eyes watching him intently, her espresso colored hair flowing over his thighs.

Those pouty lips swollen around him, his fantasy shattered as Pansy’s voice whined. “Draco! My jaw is starting to hurt.”

Draco roared with frustration as he flipped her on to her knees facing away from him. He drove deeply into her with one stroke, not caring if she was ready or not. Pansy yelped in pain as Draco slammed himself into her so hard he felt himself assaulting the deepest of her crevices.

He knew she hated this position but it was his favorite. Not only because it caused Pansy pain but because he didn’t have to look at her face. When that pug face was pointed in another direction it was far easer to enjoy his faceless brunette.

With this position it was also far easier to shove her face into the pillow and not hear her anymore. Instantly, as soon as her face was gone his fantasy came back to him. Draco slowed, taking his time with his mystery woman. Draco’s knees began to quake but he bit back his urge to release.

As an ivory hand slid down the belly of the most beautiful woman he could imagine his hand found her sex and he knelt down to kiss her shoulder. Breathing huskily into her ear he rasped proudly “My princess,” as he touched her. “Come for me.”


Hermione quaked at her own touch. The mist swirled around her, her hand making soft wet noises as she shuddered against her palm. Her back arched against the boy in her dreams.

The story had faded now to just images of her being taken, The silver eyes they lusted after her small frame. Hermione felt her heartbeat speed until it was only a staccato against her ribs, now keeping time to her swiftly moving fingers.

Hermione was on the cusp of her own indulgence, teetering on the edge, searching for a way to fall. Her body ached for release but her mind needed more, a prompt to find fulfillment, Her dream Draco took action demanding all of her. His voice cracked and craggy broken by his need for her, “Come for me Hermione,” and Hermione fell into oblivion.