Contrast

I haven’t done this is a while….

It’s not mine, but if it was I would be rich I tell you, RICH! MUHAHAHA!

A/N~ I don’t have much to say really. I am a little sad that I only got a few reviews for the last chapter, but maybe you guys will make it up to me with this one. Believe me, it’s a doozy. We finally find out where Draco stands on the war and who Hermione had her little interactions with before Draco (the one who told her she was a natural, remember?). So I hope you likes, and please review, I am practically begging here….


What was wrong with her? That was the question that plagued Hermione for the rest of the night. After her rendezvous with Malfoy, she had opted to skip dinner in order to avoid the humiliation of seeing her friends right after she had just been thoroughly shagged by the person they hated most at Hogwarts. For some reason she thought that they would take one look at her and instantly know what kind of debauchery she had been up to. This in turn caused Hermione to be on the verge of a panic attack, but she had calmed herself down by assuring herself that Ron and Harry could never be that perceptive.

So here she was, lying in bed, trying to find the solution to her query. What was wrong with her? After tossing and turning, throwing her blankets off, and then pulling them back on, Hermione came to the conclusion that the reason she let Malfoy shag her rotten on the desk of her role model (yes, she knew all along, she wasn’t that thick), was because of a mixture of raging teenage hormones and an as yet undiscovered mental illness.

Just thinking of the encounter that happened between her and Malfoy had her insides flipping and her palms sweating. Bloody hell, what had caused her to let him do that to her, to tell him to show her just how strong he could be? But Hermione knew the answer even before she finished the thought. Malfoy exploded with emotion, okay, anger, and his passion at that moment enticed Hermione’s emotions to turn from wrath to lust in a matter of seconds. His fury and abandonment of his well practiced façade were a turn on to Hermione.

Yes, it was most definitely an unknown mental disorder.

Hermione turned on her side, trying to ignore the dull throbbing of her womanhood, which she couldn’t tell if it was because she had just thought of Malfoy in his glorious rage (damn, she sounded like a fifth year swooning over the bastard) or if it was because she was pounded into rather harshly not 2 hours ago. If only she could sleep, she could stop her mind from betraying her and dancing around the image of the things Malfoy had done to her. After constantly shifting positions for an hour, she fell asleep with this same thought in her mind and a scowl on her face.

* * * * *

Draco Malfoy was the biggest horse’s arse that Hermione had even known. Yet another conclusion Hermione came to during the day. She was sitting in Advanced Potions, minding her own business, stirring the potion in her cauldron 3 times counter clockwise, when she felt someone staring at her. And how is it you can tell when someone is staring at you if your back is turned to them? It was very distracting, not to mention annoying, when Hermione turned around to see Malfoy looking at her as if she were a turkey leg and he was a man who hadn’t eaten in four days. So what did she do? What every other self-respecting witch would do, and no, she didn’t giggle and blush while batting her eyelashes at him, she sent him the meanest, nastiest, most hateful glare she could. He smirked at her, chucked a little, and called her a Mudblood quite loudly for no reason. See, horse’s arse.

He made it even worse when Hermione found herself alone with him in the storage room for ingredients, and he had the audacity to come up behind her, meld his body to hers, and lightly skim her exposed neck with soft fingers while whispering hotly in her ear, “It is taking all the self control I have not to throw you against the wall and bury myself inside of you. I want to fuck you in the worst way, Granger.” And then, before she could respond, he was gone, leaving her breathing heavily and her knees wobbly. Why did his wicked way with words always have that effect on her? Damn the English language!

Now Hermione was sitting in the Great Hall, trying to rush through dinner, anxious to get to the library. She didn’t realize just how fast she was eating until Harry looked up from his own plate, fork held in mid air and gaping at Hermione as if she had just sprouted another head.

“Jeez Hermione, you’re eating like Ron.”

Ron, oblivious to the fact that his name was just mentioned, continued shoveling food in his mouth, until Harry nudged him with his elbow and repeated his observation so the red haired boy could take notice. Ron laughed, spraying half chewed food onto his plate, and told Harry “Good one.”

By this point Hermione felt truly offended. She was not eating like Ron, who had the most disgusting eating habits next to Crabbe and Goyle, was she?

“I am not Harry. I am just in a rush to get to the library.”

At the sight of Harry’s raised eyebrows and questioning glimmer in his eyes, Hermione added, “I have tons of homework to do.”

Ron rolled his eyes before returning his attention to his dinner. “Our little Hermione, always school work on the brain.”

Great, just what she needed. As if she wasn’t jumbled up enough with thoughts of sex on the brain, sex with Malfoy, Ron’s little comment caused Hermione to feel guilt build up in her stomach. She was an awful friend, horrible, how could she do this to them?

Looking across the hall, her eyes met with Malfoy’s silver ones, and she barely caught his head shift to the direction of the door. She felt herself nod slightly, and tired her best to push the shame she felt to the bottom of her feet. She reminded herself that she deserved this, she had a chance to be happy at doing something for her self for once, and she was going to take it.

Smiling, Hermione reached to the center of the table to retrieve a mint, and stood up announcing it would probably be another late night so they shouldn’t wait up for her. She did not miss the suspicious glance that Harry sent her way, nor did she fail to notice Harry hadn’t said anything as she left.

* * * * *

By the time Hermione reached the library doors, she was a mess of nerves. All she could think about on her way from the Great Hall, to the common room to pick up her book bag, to the library, was what sort of situation she had gotten herself into. What should she expect? What would Malfoy say? What would Malfoy do? Is she doing the right thing? Obviously not, so why was she being so selfish? Was she taking it too far? Why didn’t she fell guiltier? Did Harry suspect something? Why were he and Ron sitting so close to each other at dinner? What did she just trip over?

Damn it, damn it! She told herself to stop, to clear her mind. She really did have homework to do, and if she let her mind continue with the way it was going, she would never get it done.

Breathe in, breathe out, there’s Malfoy, in, out, damn he looks handsome, in, out, this is going to be tough, in, out.

Malfoy was leaning casually against the wall near the doors facing the direction Hermione was coming from, still wearing his immaculate school uniform, and smirking like he had just been told some ridiculously good news.

“It’s about time you showed up Granger. Where have you been?”

“I…”

“I really don’t care, I was just being polite.”

“When have you ever been polite to me Malfoy?”

“Good point.” He said while holding the door open for her.

Hermione walked in front of Malfoy, nodding to Madam Pince at her desk, taking in the sight of full bookshelves surrounding her and the smell of must and paper assailing her. Was it any wonder she loved this place? It was what Heaven must be like.

Arriving at their table, Hermione sat down and begin to pull her books, parchment, and quills out of her bag. Across from her Malfoy was mirroring her movements. She watched as his soft blond hair fell across his forehead, the way his metallic eyes searched his bag to see if he needed anything else, the way his long elegant fingers fiddled with the feather on his quill. Shivering, Hermione realized that if she didn’t start paying attention to her work, and not the handsome boy in front of her, it was going to be a long night.

“Stop looking at me like that Granger, or else I will be forced to desert my school work and have my wicked way with you right on this table and I really don’t feel like putting on a show for everyone in here tonight.”

Hermione felt herself jolt with surprise. He hadn’t even looked up at her when he spoke to her. How did he do that?

“Not to worry Malfoy; I think I can handle myself.”

“I’m sure you could.”

Hermione, not missing his innuendo, sighed, and tried to focus on reading the passage out of the History of Magic book placed in front of her. What a prat.

* * * * *

Hermione was quite proud of herself. She got through the rest of her homework without even glancing at Malfoy. It was a wonderful accomplishment considering every now and then she would feel Malfoy’s foot kick hers under the table, or he would cough loudly which, curiously enough, would sound like “Granger.” But not once did she look up at him, no matter how he tried to get her attention.

After she placed her last book in her bag, she finally looked at him out of the corner of her eye before turning her head full on. He was smirking at her again. Damned if she wouldn’t smack it off of his face one of these days…again.

“I hate it when you look at me like that Malfoy.”

“Why do you think I do it half the time?”

“You are such a poncey git.”

“I have a question Granger. How many guys have you been with before me?”

This was a topic Hermione did not want to go into. If she answered his question, it wouldn’t be long before he was asking her who she lost her virginity to, and she was just not ready to reveal that information.

“Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity, and for educational reasons. I have a contrast, but I want to know the facts before I share it with you.”

“Fine, but I am not telling you anything else about it. One.”

“I figured as much.”

“And the contrast?”

“I find that I am more sexually skilled than you. It really doesn’t come as a surprise. I am clearly more accomplished, more sophisticated, and more experienced than you.”

“No, you are just clearly a male whore, a skirt chaser, and a philanderer. If I shagged half the male population at this school, not to mention the ones I don’t know about, I would be just as skilled as you say you are.”

Malfoy chuckled at Hermione’s response as he got up and walked over to her. As he pulled her out of her seat, he whispered “Care for some lessons?”

“No, I think I am quite able to learn through my own experiences.”

That’s when Hermione felt his lips fall on to hers. She kissed him with vigor and enthusiasm as his hot tongue entered her mouth, battling with hers. Good decision to grab that mint after dinner.

As he tore his mouth away from hers, Hermione felt it descend to her neck, nipping and kissing her skin along the way.

“I want you to come with me to my room.”

Did he really just say that? Had he gone completely mental?

“Have you gone completely mental? Not only does almost everyone in your house hate me, but even if I did have the bollocks to go with you, I would be hexed before I got through the door. Also, they would see us together, and I can’t imagine that would go over well.”

He removed his lips from her neck only to look at her irritatingly. Did he reallyy just expect her to agree with him and be on their merry little way?

“And they call you the smartest witch in a hundred years why? What about a simple Concealment charm.”

He resumed his attentions to her neck, and she could feel his soft hand sliding up and down her thigh under her skirt. He was going to be the death of her.

“I don’t know Malfoy.”

“Don’t be such a goody-goody. Live a little.”

His hand had found its way into her kickers, and was stroking her folds leisurely, quietly promising her of things to come. Hermione felt the warmth of arousal spread through her veins, begging her brain to consent Malfoy’s request. There was no way she could deny what felt so good.

She found it hard to locate her voice when his finger entered her slowly and deeply. He was cheating, using his talents against her. It was not fair.

“Okay.”

“Good.” He immediately withdrew from Hermione’s warmth and grabbed his bag from the table, leaving her feeling empty and cold without his touch. “Let’s go.”

Without Malfoy’s mouth and hands clouding her thoughts, Hermione found she could think much more clearly as she followed Malfoy out of the library and down to the dungeons. When he stopped her in a part of the shadowed corridor to perform the Concealment charm she felt another question nagging her.

“Why do I feel like the unsuspecting maiden being led into the dragon’s lair?”

Malfoy grabbed her hand as they approached a blank stone wall.

“Because you are, Mudblood.”

As Malfoy muttered the password (probably something ridiculously obvious like “Pureblood”) Hermione begin to get more nervous. The fidgeting had begun, and as they stepped through the threshold into the Slytherin common room, she almost tripped over her own two feet. She carefully followed Malfoy through the narrow cold room, glancing at the other students strewn about, making sure that they didn’t see her. Most were reading or doing homework, but she saw Malfoy’s minions Crabbe and Goyle filling their mouths with Chocolate Frogs while exchanging the cards that came in the packages. Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode were gossiping in the corner, and Hermione noticed that Millicent was looking at Pansy longingly, which Pansy obviously didn’t see. Hermione spotted Blaise Zabini sitting in a big chair near the fireplace, his dark eyes following Draco as he moved from one end of the room to a set of stairs that Hermione assumed led to his room. Was it just her imagination, or did Blaise’s eyes linger behind Malfoy, where Hermione was trailing him? Did Malfoy tell Blaise about their relationship? She almost tripped again going up the stone stairs. She would really have to work on her apprehension issues.

Malfoy opened the wooden door that led to his room, and allowed Hermione to go in before him, leaving her to stare open mouthed at the private quarters. Like her room, Malfoy had a huge four poster canopied bed, but instead of the dark burgundy curtains she had around hers, he had dark green. His furniture was a dark silver color, in comparison to the light gold color Hermione’s was, and he also had another door which Hermione assumed led to his bathroom. A side from a fire burning in a small fire place on the opposite wall of his bed, there was no other light in the room.

“Granger, where are you?”

He was still standing near his closed door, his wand held out in order to reverse the Concealment Charm.

“Right in front of you.”

Malfoy raised his wand and Hermione felt the warm sensation, declaring her no longer concealed. She watched Malfoy as he cast a contraceptive charm and tossed his wand on his bedside table, looking at her mischievously.

“I want you to undress me.”

Hermione knew what he was getting at. If she undressed him, then he would do the same to her. Her nervousness sent her heart into overdrive, her pulse beating against her neck like a hummingbird. Even though they had a few sexual encounters, Hermione realized that this would be the first time they would see each other naked. And here comes the self consciousness. Her shoes suddenly became very interesting.

“Now Granger.” He growled.

She felt her chin being raised and she met Malfoy’s heated gaze. She nodded.

She started with his black school robes, already unzipped, and tossed them on a chair near a book shelf. There that wasn’t so hard. The green and silver tie was next. Having to take hers off every night, Hermione had no trouble with Malfoy’s. She flung it on the same chair that his robes rested on. Now his shirt. When did it become so hot? Hermione, focused on unbuttoning every button carefully failed to notice her hands slightly shaking. With each undone button, she exposed more of his pale flesh. When she had finally finished with the last button, her hands grabbed the soft material and pushed it off of his frame. There was his naked torso, in all it’s glory. He had no hair on his chest and his small nipples were only a few shades darker than his skin. He was quite muscular, and some where in the back of Hermione’s mind, she knew that it wasn’t Quidditch alone that could bless him with a body so spectacular. On pure impulse, she leaned her head down and lightly kissed his right nipple. He groaned softly. Okay, now his pants. As she reached out to unbutton his trousers, a thought occurred to her.

“Malfoy, you have to take off your shoes.”

“What?” He sounded like he had just woken up. Hermione secretly smiled at herself knowing that she brought on his dream like state.

“Your shoes, I can’t take off your trousers if you still have your shoes on.”

“Oh.”

He quickly divested himself of his dragon skin shoes and black socks. His feet were pale and large. He stood up straightly and looked expectantly at Hermione.

Back to the pants. Once again reaching out, Hermione unclasped his fly, giving her a peak at his dark green boxers. Typical. Pushing them down his hips, he stepped out of them, kicking them aside as Hermione had to remind herself to breathe. Only his boxers left, and then Draco Malfoy would be standing in front of her, naked as the day he was born. Taking a deep breath, she yanked the silk shorts down his legs, and he kicked them off too. He was still only semi-hard, but it still left nothing to the imagination. Malfoy was well endowed, and he knew it.

Taking a step back, Hermione viewed him standing proud and arrogantly in his nakedness. He was smiling, not smirking, but actually smiling, well it was a cross between a smirk and a smile, but at least he wasn’t sneering.

He took a step towards Hermione saying “Your turn.”

Taking a deep breath, Hermione forced herself to look into his eyes. She felt her robes being lifted off of her body, her tie being untied, and when he unbuttoned her blouse, she did not miss the flash of heat in the depths of his eyes. He took off her bra expertly, and when she stepped out of her skirt, she took off her shoes and knee socks as well. Standing before him only in her white lace knickers, she was surprised she didn’t feel embarrassed or nervous. It seemed as if her apprehension had slipped away with her clothes. Maybe it was the way Malfoy was looking at her, like she was beautiful, or maybe it was because she actually felt desired, but whatever it was made her feel confidant and ready as Malfoy removed her last article of clothing.

“You are mouth-watering, Granger.” He was studying her up and down appreciatively.

At that moment, Hermione felt the desperate need to feel Malfoy’s skin against hers, so she wasted no time flying into his arms and kissing him wildly and frantically, and he did not disappoint her in his response. He lifted her small frame and carried her to the bad, dropping her unceremoniously and covering her body with his. His lips and hands seemed to be every where, exploring her every curve, every part of her body. He brought his moth down to her breast, sucking and nipping at her nipple before turning his attention to the other. His hands spread her legs apart so he could rest between them comfortably, and she felt his fingers stroking her, only this time instead of the relaxed pace they had in the library, the were moving fast and methodically, rubbing her clit one moment, and the next plunging deep inside her wet cavern.

Hermione could feel the warmth residing in her stomach start to spread through out her whole body. Malfoy’s fingers inside of her began to work more furiously as he raised his head from her breast only to say, “Cum for me Granger. Cum for me and I will fuck you like you have never been fucked before.”

At his urging, Hermione felt a burst of pleasure that shook her body. She could feel her inner muscles clench around Malfoy’s fingers, and she heard him groan “That’s it.”

Before she could realize it, Malfoy poised himself at her entrance and drove his rock hard cock into her. She instantly came again at the sensation of him filling her.

He started pushing into her vigorously and talking to her at the same time, each word accentuated with an even more powerful thrust.

“I love it when I push my cock so far into you, I can feel every part of you inside. Warm, wet, moist, tight.”

He pumped into her viciously, testing both his and Hermione’s stamina. The overwhelming sensation must have had same effect on him that it had on Hermione, because the third time she came, he came as well, filling her with his seed, capturing her mouth with his, swallowing her loud moans, his tongue matching his final thrusts.

He withdrew from her, Hermione groaning at the loss of him being buried deep inside of her, and rolled next to her, breathing just as hard as she was.

When he finally caught his breath, he turned on his side to face her. Hermione, still delighting in her post-coital bliss, was not prepared for what came out of his mouth next.

“Granger, how did you lose your virginity?”

“Huh?” Her brain had not resumed its working status yet.

“How did you get your cherry popped?”

Turning her body to face him, Hermione responded, “You’re disgusting Malfoy.”

“Just answer the question.”

“Fine. It was about a month ago and just the idea of losing it was an added pressure I didn’t need this year, so I decided I needed to get rid of it. I had the opportunity, so I took it, and had a couple of ‘meetings’ with the guy in the Room of Requirement. I ended it as soon as I got what I needed. It was a relief really. What about you?”

“Contrary to popular belief, my father did not buy me a whore who taught me all the ways of pleasuring a woman; no, I had to learn that on my on. It is only understandable that I happened to be a natural at it. Pansy and I made a pact during our first year that if either of us hadn’t lost it by the time we were 16, we’d lose it to each other. We both found that by sixth year neither of us had rid ourselves of the affliction, so we shagged. It was quite awkward the first time, but after a few practice sessions, we both got the hang of it and moved on.”

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. For some reason it always seemed easier to believe Malfoy was born the Slytherin Sex God, as he was fond of calling himself, and didn’t actually have to work at it. At that moment, he appeared just a bit more human to Hermione.

“I guess both you and I approached losing our virginities from an objective and unemotional point of view. Our first similarity, Malfoy.”

“I suppose so. You didn’t tell me who you lost it to. It must have been some bloke here seeing as how it happened a month ago. Who had the honor of deflowering you Granger?”

Oh no, she was not going there. Must avoid answering, must change subject.

“So where exactly do you stand on the war Malfoy? Are you going to become a Death Eater?”

The calm and relaxed Malfoy Hermione was facing suddenly grew into the sneering and angry Malfoy. Should she have used a different topic to change the subject? Probably, but it was the first thing that came to her still muddled mind.

He got up and sat on the edge of the bed, his smooth and muscular back facing Hermione.

“I don’t want to talk about that Granger. And why are you trying to change the subject?”

“I am not.”

“Yes you are, and might I add it was an incredibly poor diversionary tactic.”

Damn!

“Okay, I will tell you who I lost it to, but you have to answer me first.”

With his back still facing towards her, Hermione heard him sigh heavily.

“I don’t know where I stand. I am torn between my duty to my family and what I want to do myself. I see my father, and where he has ended up, and I don’t want to be like him, bowing down to the Dark Lord, following the orders of a psychotic megalomaniac only to end up wasting away in Azkaban. Plus, I’m not too sure I want to maim my pristine complexion with the Dark Mark. But I sure as hell am not going to run and join the side of you and your little friends, and fight side by side with you, becoming Potter’s best friend, having instantly lost my deliciously evil appeal. I am still thinking it over and that is the best answer you are getting.”

He turned around to gage her reaction, which Hermione didn’t really have. She hadn’t expected to hear that. She had assumed he would stand up straight and tall and declare his undying devotion to Voldemort. She wasn’t sure how to take this bit of information.

“Now, who did you lose your virginity to?”

Damn, her diversionary tactic has come to bite her in the arse sooner than she thought.

“You see Malfoy, it’s quite complicated and I…”

He suddenly stood up, looking at her accusingly and horrified at the same time.

“If it was Weasley or Potter, I will end this right now Mudblood. How could you? That is nauseating. Merlin, I think I am going to be sick.”

“Settle down Malfoy, it wasn’t Ron or Harry. They are like brothers to me, and that would be just,” shutter, “gross.”

The expression of disgust on Malfoy’s face was replaced with relief at Hermione’s assurance.

“Then who?”

This is what she had been avoiding for the last month. No one knew, no one, and she was about the reveal it to the last person she ever thought she would have to. Just get on with it, because he won’t give up until he knows. Taking a deep breath, and bracing herself, Hermione finally shared who she had given herself to for the first time, and she had a feeling Malfoy wouldn’t be very happy about it.

“Blaise Zabini.”


A/N~ Who saw that coming? How do you think Draco will react? Well, if you want to know, not only do you have to read the next chapter, but you have to review this one.

Thanks to all my reviews, I appreciate it 100%. You have no idea how happy it makes me when I see I have a new review to read. I always read them to my boyfriend, and he gets all proud of me, until I read them for the 10th time, and then he gets annoyed. So be nice and contribute to my happiness and my boyfriend’s annoyance.

Toodles,

Roberta