This Subdued Fire

The storm raged on through the night. Hermione retired to her room with the excuse that she was tired. No one could find fault with that excuse. It was only the seventh day of term and Hermione looked the way she normally toward the end of term. The general consensus was that she needed to sleep, and sleep well.

However, Hermione was inside of her room, wearing a hole in the gryffin patterned rug. Her thoughts were as wild and mercurial as the storm that rattled the windowpanes. She still had no idea as to whether or not to take Malfoy up on his offer. The notion intrigued her to no end. It also disgusted her. Hermione felt the same way about the man himself. Malfoy had always held a fascination for her. His looks and intelligence were a lethal combination. His feudal views of the world and people disgusted her greatly. Now lust was thrown into the mix. It gave her a queasy feeling.

Just then, long solid streak of lightning ignited a tree in the forest. She could see the flames leap to life from her bedroom window. But it was raining so steadily, the fire was put out quickly. Hermione flopped down on the bed and thought about Malfoy\'s proposal. As he so succintly put it, what did she really have to lose?

Nothing. If her friends were her friends and they found out, it wouldn\'t matter to them. And it was her last year of school. Some of those people she would never see again. It wouldn\'t affect her status as Head Girl. Frankly, from her point of view, Hermione saw that Malfoy had more to lose in the situation than she did.

He could lose the family fortunes, that being the biggest thing. Malfoy really was attached to the money. And money bought prestige - or at least the appearance of it. Look at the Parkinsons. Their bloodlines were as obscured as her own, yet the vast amounts of money they had atoned for some of that.

Another thing Malfoy had to lose was the protection of his father. Lucius, as everyone knew, was a considerable bastard in his own right. He\'d probably try to kill his son. And as much Hermione hated Malfoy, she didn\'t want his death on her hands.

However, lust was a powerful motivator.

Just thinking of the previous night set her heart to pounding. Every memory tightened her lower body. She didn\'t think she\'d ever experience that with any of the boys she knew now. And with the war simmering just below the surface, this might be the only chance she got. Besides, Hermione was tired of being the same cautious bluestocking that everyone took her to be. Studying and getting the top grades had a unique satisfaction, but there was nothing to compare with the rush from participating in illicit activities.

It was probably why she let herself get caught up in Ron and Harry\'s schemes. It was why she consented to roaming about the darkened castle shrouded in a thin invisiblity cloak. It was why she suggested in their very first year that they go sneaking about in the Restricted Section of the library. It was why she relished having the time-turner in her third year. It was why she suddenly took Viktor Krum as her boyfriend. All these things, they\'re unexpected. They\'re shocking. At least, they\'re shocking in connection with Hermione Valentina Granger.

Hermione liked doing unexpected things. Even forming S.P.E.W. gave her a secret thrill. No wizard or witch had ever bucked the establishment by campaigning for house-elf rights. But this was something else altogether. Malfoy put the decision to her. And she didn\'t think that he would be so crass as to go back on his word and tell his father about her abilities. Draco had his own warped little code of honor, if nothing else.

No, there was too much to lose. She wouldn\'t do it. She couldn\'t do it. Hermione really did have too much to lose and so did Malfoy. It was best to leave the past in the past and return things to the status quo.

She looked at the alarm clock. It was well past eleven o\'clock. At least now Malfoy knew she wouldn\'t show up. Hermione felt as if the weight that had been on her shoulders was lifted. She changed out of her clothes and into her pajamas. After setting the alarm clock, she settled into a heavy sleep, courtesy of the now softly falling rain pattering against the windowpane.

*************
Draco, however was pissed off that she didn\'t come. He\'d employed his considerable charm to get her to come to him tonight. Apparently, it hadn\'t been enough. Ah well, he knew that she would take a bit of effort. But judging from the looks she\'d been shooting him across the hall, he\'d figured that maybe she was primed and ready. Granger certainly looked as if she was pulled tighter than a bowstring.

Then again, she always looked like that. But he found it rather appealing. Now that he knew about her magical abilities, he intended to bind her to his side. Use her as a tool in the Dark Lord\'s campaign and save his own skin in the process. Oh yes, you see, Voldemort needed a Mage very badly. He intended to suck the powers from whoever the victim was and incorporate them into himself. This would thereby ensure that he was greatest wizard in the world.

Draco concluded from Voldemort\'s schemes that the Dark Lord had an enormous inferiority complex. No matter. Voldemort was still brilliant, regardless of his warped mind and twisted body. It paid to be completely loyal to the one who would one day rule the world. And Draco was making sure that it was he, not his sniveling weak father, who would occupy the seat at Voldemort\'s right hand.

Granger was the key to his success. She would inadvertently deliver up Potter and her own lovely self to the Dark Lord without a moment\'s hesitation. Draco decided to enchant her so thoroughly that she had no choice but to do so. He was sure that sex would be the way, but he was prepared to use any method possible.

Draco smiled cruelly in the darkness of the Astronomy Tower. His two greatest adversaries, in the hand of the one he served. It was almost enough to make him come right then and there.

Yet, and still...he felt slightly guilty about it. He\'d come to know Hermione a bit those three nights they were forced to endure each other\'s company. Underneath all her prim and proper know-it-all bullshit exterior lurked a heart just brimming with naughtiness. She laughed at all the jokes she wasn\'t supposed to laugh at. Very few things actually offended her. Apparently being around StinkPotter and Weasel had endowed Hermione with a very thick skin.

He was beginning to find her rather gallant. She shrugged off most of his insults with a savoir faire that he envied. If she had been born a Malfoy, she\'d probably have been a better one than he was. Everytime he verbally fenced with her, he could see a long-buried cruel streak rising to the surface. But above that, she was very kind-hearted. She was even kind to him on occasion. Malfoy could somehow feel her pity when she looked at him. The last thing he wanted was her pity.

Inasmuch as he wanted to rat her out to the Dark Lord, he couldn\'t. He\'d told her the truth: his honor wasn\'t freely given, it was earned. It would not befit him to actually renege on their agreement. She\'d honored her side. Then again...she was so trusting. Only a fool would trust him. He looked forward to schooling her. But then again, he vowed that he would never become his father. Yet here he was, planning to betray her the first chance he got.

Her face floated in his mind\'s eye. Accompanying it were conflicting emotions. This was a first for Draco. He couldn\'t imagine hating someone so much yet being pulled to them. It caused a queasy sensation in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to go to Granger and show her what she was missing. For all his outwardly protestations, he knew and she knew that her continued meetings with him were the condition for his silence. She should have known better.

Thoughts of Hermione pinned beneath him gave Malfoy a buzz.

Instead, he clamped down on the shot of excitement and strode out of the Tower on his way to his chambers. He intended to wake up Pansy and give her what he wanted to give Granger. Pansy, for all her outwardly ordinary looks was a master at taking whatever Draco wanted to dish out. It was part of her clinging nature - anything to please him, Lord Malfoy. She was incredibly tolerant of the perversions that Draco could dream up.

For those that think Draco rather young to be so completely enmeshed in the dark ways, let me say this: being Lucius Malfoy\'s son ensures that one\'s maturation does not follow a normal course. The younger Malfoy subsequently dabbled in some of the seamiest activities imaginable. Everything from Polyjuice brothels to, erm, improving human/house-elf relations, Draco was acquainted with. Malfoy had even had a few adventures with some unnamed males from Hogwarts. They mostly came from Hufflepuff and were sworn to secrecy under threat of retribution.

As a result, Draco knew what he liked and what he didn\'t. He was incredibly free when it came to sexual matters and he expected his various partners to be so as well. Unfortunately, the members of the wizarding community were rather straitlaced about such things. So Draco had to keep things hushed up, lest he destroyed his family\'s reputation.

Even more than their wealth, the Malfoys traded on their reputation. It was invaluable to them. In the wizarding world, a man\'s reputation meant everything. It was the reason that Blaise, with her diminished family fortunes, could still run in exalted circles, and also the reason why Pansy, whose father was richer than Croesus, was still looked on as an interloper.

It amused him to play with both girls - add them to his menagerie. He was stringing them along and they knew it. But they still jockeyed for position, convinced that they might possibly end as Lady Malfoy. Each one was not up to his standards. Draco\'s wife would have to have the money *and* the family standing. It wouldn\'t do for the only heir to settle for less. It would be a loveless marriage, but this did not bother Draco in the least. His parents did not love each other. Or perhaps they did, in their own way. He was never sure. But that didn\'t mean anything. As long as his wife was obedient to his will, they would get along swimmingly.

Malfoy reached the part of the dungeons that Slytherin called their own. He gave the password (Artemisia Absinthium) and strode in. As Head Boy he had access to areas that were previously off limits to him as a prefect. Loping down the stairs until he reached the seventh-year girls\' dormitory, Malfoy opened the door silently. Blaise was asleep with her hair spilled out on the pillow in a midnight colored swath. Pansy, as usual, had the viridian curtains of her bed drawn. He slinked over and pulled them back.

Pansy looked very girlish in her high necked nightgown, her hair woven in a single plait. Draco touched her shoulder and Pansy came awake with a start. Her eyes were wide as she looked at Draco.

\"What is it?\" she whispered in an urgent tone.

\"Why, Pansy, dear, I want you.\"

\"Now?\"

\"I should think that would be obvious. If you prefer that I should wake Blaise...\" Draco knew this would get Pansy\'s attention.

\"No, no.\" Pansy slipped out of bed and followed Draco back to his room.

Once there, Draco wasted no time.

\"Take off that ridiculous nightgown,\" he ordered.

Pansy slipped it off and stood there in the greenish light from the torches, shivering. Draco smiled in dimness. A small green snake suddenly appeared in his grasp. He petted its head and the snake sent its forked tongue over Malfoy\'s hand.

\"Now my dear...have you ever played with animals?\"
*********

The next morning dawned gray and overcast, aindeinder of the evening\'s previous deluge. Hermione rolled out of bed, her head still ringing with the remnants of very, very fucked up dreams. The images of snakes and Draco and a huge black bed flashed before her. Underlying the images was a pervasive sense of eroticism that was heavier than amber incense.

She shook it off as she headed to the bathroom. As she ran a bath and the steam filled the room, Hermione couldn\'t help but think about what would\'ve happened if she\'d decided to join Malfoy last night. She added a dollop of rose scented bubbles from one of the taps to the water and scent swirled around her.

Dropping her pj\'s, she slid into the tub and closed her eyes. At first there was darkness, a relief from the dreams. But then there was a lightning flash and it seemed that she was there in the room.

She saw Pansy tied to the bed, spread eagled. Pansy\'s eyes held a wild sort of dreamy panic. Pansy writhed lazily atop the black satin sheets. Draco was nowhere to be seen. Hermione looked at the image more closely. She could see somethimallmall and shadowy wriggling in the space between Pansy\'s outstretched legs. Hermione stared as she recognized it. A small snake. When she saw where the snake was headed -

Hermione sat bolt upright in the bath. Her heart was racing and her breathing heavy. She couldn\'t believe what her mind had just conjured up. Yet, she knew with a sudden clarity that what she\'d seen was real. That it had taken place.

Hermione had lay in the tub long enough for the water to turn cold. She scrubbed down quickly, dressed as swiftly and went loping down the staircase to find Malfoy and confront him. They collided in the corridor which led to the Great Hall.

\"Jesus, Granger, watch where you\'re going,\" Malfoy spoke impatiently, as if he were in a hurry to get to breakfast. Hermione could barely keep the bile in her empty stomach down.

\"I have to talk to you.\"

Malfoy smirked. \"Oh, really? What about? Your missed appointment?\"

\"No. About Pansy.\"

A blond eyebrow quirked, amused. \"And what about Pansy?\"

\"I know, Malfoy.\"

\"Know what?\"

\"About you and her and that vile game you played with her last night! I mean, I knew you were a sick pervert, but snakes?!\" Hermione\'s voice had risen with the last few words. The sound echoed off the grey flagstones paving the walls and floor.

Malfoy\'s face grew hard and he pushed her into a side corridor, out of sight. \"Look, I don\'t know what you *think* you saw, but rest assured, Pansy is quite alright. She\'s full of vim and vigor and I wouldn\'t have her any other way. Now, perhaps these accusations are borne out of some jealousy, my dear?\"

\"Jealousy?!\"

\"Yes. Because I gave to Pansy what you so foolishly refused to take.\"

\"No, I\'m not jealous, Malfoy. Me being jealous of you would be like filet mignon being jealous of Spam.\"

\"You little bitch. You think you\'re so much better than me, with your common blood? I am a Malfoy. My family has existed for a thousand years, just who do you think you are, Mudblood?\" Malfoy pressed Hermione against the stone wall tightly.

\"Oh, so now your civilized veneer slips, Malfoy. I knew underneath your slimy exterior lurked a heart of pure corruption.\"

\"You\'re just so smart, aren\'t you?\" He sneered.

\"Smarter than you think I am.\"

Malfoy had no other reply to this than to kiss her - hard. So hard, their teeth clinked. Hermione moved her hands up to push him away, but instead slid them to his arse, pulling Malfoy tight against her. The Slytherin wasn\'t prepared for this and gave a small grunt of surprise. He sent his tongue tunneling into the warm cavity of Hermione\'s mouth. She sent hers rolling over his with such a practiced agility, that yet again, he was surprised. However much he gave, she gave right back. If Pansy and Blaise would\'ve complained about how deep he sent his tongue into their mouths, Hermione seemed to welcome - nay - relish it.

Malfoy thought it a wonderful way to begin the morning.

He could taste the mint of her mouth. It was a strange tingling coolness in contrast to the rest of her. Hermione\'s hands were somehow underneath his clothes and slipping into his pants. She grabbed the firm flesh of Draco\'s bum. Draco nearly went up in flames right there, hidden away in the thin corridor. He rubbed his body along Hermione\'s, reveling in the moan she gave him.

Draco slid his hand down her body and up her skirt, seeking the moist heat he knew he would find theret jut just as his hand reached the hem of her panties, there was a screech.

\"OOOH!!! The ickle Head Boy and Girl, snogging in the hallways!\" It was Peeves, floating lazily and grinning maniacally. They broke apart guiltily.

\"Dammit, Peeves, don\'t you have someone else to annoy?\" Malfoy growled at the spectre,
thoroughly put out at the interruption.

\"Why, no, I don\'t. Please don\'t stop on my account. It\'s been so long since I\'ve gotten any.\" Peeves waggled his silvery eyebrows at the two of them.

Hermione spoke this time. \"Peeves, if you don\'t get away from here, Mr. Malfoy here is going to tell his House ghost what you\'ve been up to lately. You know how the Baron dislikes disobedience.\"

Peeves looked panicked. \"Oh, no. Don\'t tell the Baron!\"

\"Then go about your business and repeat nothing of what you\'ve seen or heard here today.\" Hermione sounded very authoritarian.

\"Y-yes, ma\'am.\" Peeves vanished with a wink.

\"Quick thinking, Granger.\" Malfoy sounded relatively impressed.

\"Well, I can\'t have Peeves running all over school spouting off at the mouth.\"

\"Oh, heaven forfend!\" Malfoy replied mockingly.

\"You really are a bastard. You know your neck is as much stuck out as mine. Your father would peel the skin from your head like an orange if he found out.\"

\"I don\'t intend for him to ever find out. And if he did, so what?\" Malfoy\'s voice held a bit of defiance. \"Now, are you going to come to the Astronomy Tower tonight or not?\"

It was Hermione\'s turn to exhibit a bit of defiance. \"No. You sicken me.\" And she strode away.

\"That wasn\'t disgust you showed a minute ago.\" Hermione could hear the oily smirk in Malfoy\'s voice.

It was enough to check her stride, but not enough to stop her from leaving.