Adamo Fidelitas

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter stories and their characters are property of JK Rowling and Scholastic books. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from writing this story.

Adamo Fidelitas 07

**************************

\"Now then, Draco,\" crowed Lucius Malfoy with satisfaction as he ushered the younger blonde wizard into the crowded interior of The Three Broomsticks. \"It is a relief to see that you can manage to join me for a father and son afternoon without bollixing it up catastrophically.\" Lucius\'s long hair bounced against his shoulder, as he patted his son on the back to hurry him along.

From somewhere behind his back, Draco heard a snort of derision, and he looked back to see Hermione at a table with her fellow Gryffindors. Granger had been throwing hints of her anger at him since the fight with Ron, and Draco still had no more clue than before as to why she was so upset. For the moment, he wasn\'t sure if the snort had been directed more at him or his father, whom the Gryffindor wench loathed. The feeling was mutual, and Draco turned back to see a familiar curl upon his father\'s lip and an expression as though something foul was polluting the air around his refined nose, as the elder Malfoy\'s gaze turned towards the vaunted Muggle Head Girl.

Lucius tore his relentless gaze away before she could look back. \"Why don\'t we catch up over a glass of Ogden\'s Old Firewhiskey, to fortify us against the cold. We have much to do this afternoon,\" Lucius announced in his imperious manner, as he flagged down Madam Rosmerta with a wave of his fingers. It was the sort of gesture that the cultured used for their inferiors, and Draco had been taught the proper manner at a young age. He wondered what Lucius had planned, as they made idle chit chat while waiting for their drinks.

\"Ah, then. How is Miss Parkinson?\" Lucius asked, as he handed Draco his glass of Ogden\'s. A keen glint of interest in the man\'s grey eyes made Draco wary.

\"She\'s fine, Father,\" Draco muttered quietly. He felt like he had a mouthful of marbles even saying it. Pansy hadn\'t spoken to him in three days, despite his best efforts to flatter the temperamental witch. A singing and dancing teddy bear had returned to him with its adorably fluffy head torn off and packaged against its wiggling posterior.

\"Really?\" Lucius oozed charmingly. \"Because, your mother was lunching with Violet the other day and we\'ve heard that Pansy\'s latest correspondence is most despondent,\" Lucius told him, fixing his son with a cold glare for a moment. \"I\'m certain that there must be a miscommunication, but it would be most disappointing news,\" he continued, returning to the false charm that nearly felt suffocating to Draco under the circumstances. \"Are you sure you can\'t think of anything that would be troubling Miss Parkinson?\"

Draco considered playing dumb, but in the end he decided that a little discomfort now would possibly save him from greater problems in the future. \"I think she\'s jealous of the time I put in on my schoolwork,\" Draco admitted cautiously. It wasn\'t even half of what Pansy had to be jealous of at the moment, but he knew how much impnce nce his father placed upon Draco\'s grades. It would earn him the least reproof, especially in such a public setting. \"The detention I got for fighting with Potter\'s sidekick didn\'t help either. Was Mother that jealous and possessive back in school?\" Draco asked both hoping to shift the conversation onto the hopelessness of understanding the fairer sex and genuinely curious whether all women were nonsensical at heart.

Lucius chuckled deeply. \"Your mother is still an impossible hellcat,\" he confided proudly. \"Never underestimate the appeal of a strong spirited woman, Draco,\" he advised jovially. He took a swig from his glass, closing his eyes and enjoying the warming burn of the liquid sliding down his throat. \"From your question, should I assume your attempts to assuage her have been less than successful?\" Lucius asked, with an air of both commiseration and amusement.

\"So all witches are this unreasonable?\" Draco responded, surprised at his father\'s very candid words about his mother. The words certainly fit both Pansy and Granger to his mind.

\"All the ones worth having are,\" Lucius assured him with a gleam in his silver eyes. \"I think we can clear up this problem with a little stop at one of my favorite shops. Just remember, Draco,t wht when all else fails sometimes the only recourse is to confide in the woman as an equal. A truly strong woman will only respond to respect,\" Lucius explained.

It wasn\'t until their drinks were finished and they were wandering between the bustling shops that Lucius broached the real subject at hand. \"No matter how gratifying it is to pound in the skull of Arthur\'s young brat, it is imperative for you to stop drawing such attention to yourself by standing out against Potter and his ilk. You will be ready to take the mark upon your graduation, Draco. This is not the time to show your face as their enemy,\" Lucius had returned to all orders.

It was moments such as these when Draco wondered exactly how many steps above a house elf he was in his father\'s eyes. Draco hadn\'t even thrown the first punch, and even the teachers acknowledged that much. Not that it stopped anyone from blaming him around the school, but Weasley did bear some of the ire too. \"Are there any other orders, sir?\" Draco asked coldly, a sneer forming on his expression.

Lucius swelled with anger like a black cloud eclipsing the sun and becoming as frightening as Draco had ever seen him. Draco\'s snarl quickly vanished, as he was dragged into the alley between Gladrags Wizard Wear and the next boutique. \"Mark me well, Draco! This is no time for your surly attitude,\" Lucius growled, as Draco slammed into the alley wall hard enough to send his purchases scattering to the ground. Lucius\'s fingers held his throat so tightly that Draco struggled to draw a breath. The fear in Draco\'s wide eyes seemed to have the effect of brining Lucius to his senses, and surprised by his own actions, the dark wizard immediately relaxed his grip.

\"The Dark Lord has a gift for you. Your initiation will be marked by a very special rite, and I have worked harder than you will ever know to secure you this honor. I am here to pass a great responsibility to you,\" Lucius continued, his voice still filled with menace and anger.

\"I\'m sorry, Father,\" Draco quickly apologized, rubbing his throat with a guarded expression. He watched his father compose his appearance, and it struck him that it was rather like watching a stormy ocean transpose itself into a still and glassy pond.

Lucius reached into his sapphire velvet robes withdrawing a flat blackish wooden box, which he handed to Draco. Looking back at his father, Draco unlatched the hook and opened the antique box. Inside the box was filled with a new emerald satin lining which conformed to cushion the most wicked looking dagger Draco had ever seen. The double-edged blade glinted ominously despite the gloom of the shadowy alley, and it looked sharp enough to slice through a person with no resistance. The handle was easily the most disturbing looking aspect of the weapon, as the blade was fitted into what appeared to be a long thick bone. It appeared as thick as a human femur but was much shorter. Even without being able to identify what it was, Draco instinctively knew that the bone was somehow human. The blade radiated anger and evil, and Draco felt a little nauseous from its power.

\"On the night of your initiation we will triumph over even the Dementor\'s Kiss, and we will use a spell very like the one that restored our Dark Lord,\" Lucius breathed, as he studied the dagger with admiration. \"It is a spell that uses blood, flesh, and bone, and we will be entrusting you to perform this darkest magic, Draco. You will restore the soul of one of our fallen,\" Mr. Malfoy continued melodiously. \"The greatest faith is being placed in you, and it falls to me to make sure you are ready for such a position of respect,\" Lucius added, snapping the box shut and fixing Draco with a hard stare.

\"I understand,\" Draco told him, contritely. He hid the box in his Hogwart\'s robes and took a deep breath before asking, \"What must I do until then?\"

\"Simply keep that gift safely hidden for now, Draco,\" Lucius crooned. \"It took much effort to locate that very special hilt buried at Hogwarts. We will be procuring its beneficiary from St. Mungo\'s when the time comes--not that you will hear of it. He is a man with no name, a man who was said to have died in Azkaban over a decade ago.\"

\"Is that bone his?\" Draco wondered aloud at the memory of how the blade felt, and his eyes shot up at his father\'s laughter.

\"It is all that remains of his father--Mr. Bartimus Crouch,\" Lucius said, before turning on his heel so that his robe flurried around him.

He led Draco back into the street full of happy students, and began laughing and making idle talk again. It took Draco a few moments to adjust to his father\'s effortless reversion into small talk as they headed off to select Pansy\'s present.

\"How has Quidditch practice been?\" Lucius asked easily. \"I do hope your mother and I will be treated to a glorious Slytherin victory at the opening game,\" he grinned, although the smile did not reach his eyes. \"Especially, when I am informed that we will be forced to sit with the Head Girl and her family. It would be good to see that my investment towards your training this summer was not a total waste.\"

\"I have the Slytherin team training every day, Father,\" Draco said, raising his chin and looking the elder Malfoy eye to eye. This was Draco\'s final year and last chance at the cup. Not since Oliver Wood\'s final season, had a Quidditch captain been so manic. If they could beat Gryffindor that Saturday, they would start the season with a lead over the only real opposition to their victory.

\"You may yet do me proud,\" Lucius announced, raising Draco\'s chin further with his cane so that he could better study the determination in his son\'s face. He seemed to be admiring his own handiwork. His expression held a malicious pleasure, as though he were prizing an attack dog that he had trained particularly well and envisioning what it could do under his orders.

Lucius\'s momentary triumph was cut short when a witch with curly brown hair knocked against him as she followed the sidewalk towards Honeydukes. Even without her disgusted humph, Draco easily recognized her departing back, as she walked away without apology. Lucius, regaining his bearing, glared after her with his eyes narrowed to mercury slits.

Returning to his room that evening, Draco hid the black box in the bottom of his trunk. He was loath to even touch the thing, burying it as deeply as possible like a dirty little secret. Afterwards he sat on the floor next to the trunk with his knees drawn up to his chest. He really wanted it out of his room, or maybe he wanted himself out of his room. The tow haired wizard willed himself to forget the dagger\'s presence, because until he could he wouldn\'t feel comfortable in his own room.

Draco had found the dark arts fascinating for as long as he could remember, to the point of obsession when he was younger, but something about this upcoming ritual had him jangled. If they really expected him to bring back a Death Eater\'s soul at his initiation, it was an incredible honor. He would be the first to brandish one of the most awesome spells imaginable. He should feel ecstatic, but he didn\'t. He should feel thankful, but he didn\'t. \"A spell that uses blood, flesh, and bone\", he remembered. He should like it. He didn\'t like it. He didn\'t like it at all.

He rose and picked up the necklace for Pansy in its wrapped velvet box. He had to get away from here and get his mind on other things. Making up with Pansy would at least serve as a distraction, and once the real making up began his thoughts about another witch would keep him well and truly distracted. Draco scrambled through the portrait hole, only stopping to put together his detached image once he was safely on the other side.

Several days later, Hermione headed down to the Quidditch pitch early to watch the Gryffindor team practice. She and Malfoy were at least three days late for a meeting, and her thoughts were getting too distracting for comfort. She hadn\'t been speaking to the stupid git, and put out by her icy demeanor, he\'d been avoiding her too. Hermione had decided that there was ny iny in bloody hell that she would make the first move when he owed her an apology, but she was starting to wonder if she would have to make the first move anyhow.

The Slytherin team was still practicing in the late afternoon sun, when Hermione arrived and took a seat at the edge of the pitch. She spread her books around herself as usual, as she wondered whether Malfoy genuinely had no clue why she was mad at him. Did he simply not remember what he\'d called her? He had received a severe enough concussion to be kept overnight in the hospital wing, after all. Or perhaps he had used the term Mudblood so many times that he didn\'t hear himself anymore. Either way the boy was an idiot.

Hermione remembered the scene she\'d walked into on the way to Honeydukes, and she seethed inwardly. Lucius Malfoy had spoken about sitting with her family in the top box as though they were the lowest form of filth, and she could only imagine how many times he\'d spoken to Draco that same way before. No wonder his son was such an arse. She\'d been angrier still, watching the longhaired man appraise and control his son like a piece of property in the middle of the street. She\'d settled for bumping into the foul man, but she would have loved to hex him instead. The incident had shifted most of her anger against Malfoy onto his father really, and perhaps that was very in Draco Malfoy\'s favor.

She watched his pale hair glinting like white gold in the sunlight as he flew in tight circles high above, searching for the snitch. She saw him taken aback when he noticed her looking up at him from the edge of the pitch, and he quickly went back to hunting for that elusive glimmer of gold with cold concentration. A few minutes later, he spotted his quarry near one of the opposite goal posts, and he accelerated to blurring speed as he chased after it.

His green robes blew out straight behind him as he leaned forward for speed, nearly lying on the broom as he raced after the small sphere darting around ahead of him. Hermione found the spectacle thrilling in a way she never had before, and a familiar aching began low in her belly at the thoughts this was stirring in her. She suddenly worried exactly what effect her presence was having on his concentration as he zoomed about the stadium above her. It was most certainly slowing his reflexes she realized as the Snitch escaped his pursuit, and he nearly crashed into one of the Slytherin beaters. Cursing loudly, the frustrated seeker angrily returned to searching for that telling glint.

\"Hey, Hermione!\" Harry called, happily. \"Come to watch us practice? Wait till you see Ron\'s new block,\" the green-eyed wizard told her brightly, as his best friend blushed crimson beside him. \"It\'s really spectacular!\" Harry promised, giving the other boy a shove.

\"I wouldn\'t miss it!\" Hermione assured them with a huge smile. Ron cleared his throat and gave Harry a meaningful look with his eyes. Hermione recognized it as the international male symbol for a mate to shove off because one wished to chat up a girl. She and Ron had been trying very hard to pretend that everything was okay between them as just friends, but truthfully they hadn\'t said more than a few sentences to each other. They hadn\'t spoken privately at all.

Harry started and with a poor excuse about wanting to have a word with Dean, The Boy Who Lived hastily took off towards the rest of their teammates, who were milling about anxiously waiting for the Slytherins to finish.

\"I\'ve been wanting to apologize to you for how I reacted when we broke up,\" Ron nervously explained when Harry was out of earshot. \"I know how important your schoolwork is to you, and it really hurt to think that it was more important to you than I am,\" he told her, his features pinched with how uncomfortable it was to say aloud.

\"Oh, Ron! That\'s not tr--\" she began, before he cut her off.

\"Just hush and let me say everything before you speak,\" Ron told her. The tall wizard stared at his feet uncomfortably, as Hermione intently watched him speak. \"I felt like I was coming in second again,\" he continued, \"and I reacted very poorly. It was stupid. I realized that you\'re right; we have the rest of our lives still. School and studying, it doesn\'t last forever. Whether or not I have you in my life as my girlfriend, I always want you in my life. If friend is all you can offer right now, I\'ll take it.\" He looked up at her hopefully. \"Friends?\" he asked.

\"Always, Ronald Weasley!\" Hermione exclaimed grasping him in a quick hug that made his ears turn pink at the tips. She turned her head, and saw Malfoy hovering above with the Snitch clenched tightly in his hand as he glared at her and Ron. Hermione self-consciously released her grip on Ron\'s neck, as she watched Malfoy slowly land nearby with a furious look about his pointed features.

\"I was wondering if you were ever going to catch that ball, Malfoy,\" Harry told him, as the Slytherin seeker mashed the Golden Snitch into Harry\'s outstretched palm, and Malfoy told him exactly where to shove the Snitch before storming into the locker room. \"If that\'s where Malfoy keeps the Snitch, I\'m not sure I want to touch the bloody thing,\" Harry joked with the rest of the team, shooting a wink at Hermione and Ron who had joined the crowd.

Hermione smiled weakly at him. Malfoy was going to be as pleasant as a Mountain Troll after this, and Hermione still had to speak to him. It wasn\'t like Hermione had done anything wrong. It wasn\'t her fault that the potion was screwing with his concentration, and she certainly didn\'t need his permission to hug her friends. She kept one eye glued to the locker room, as the Gryffindors took to air. She decided to excuse herself under the pretense of forgetting her notes in the library so that she could wait outside for Malfoy where nobody would see them talking.

She worked up an excuse in case he wasn\'t alone, but as the other Slytherins continued to filter out of the stadium she relaxed. Malfoy trudged out of the gate last, and in such a foul mood that it was no wonder the rest of the team had left to escape him. \"Malfoy,\" Hermione called out, and he rounded on her at the sound of his name.

\"What do you want, Granger? No books to throw at me today? If you\'ve come to tell me that you\'ve made up with your boyfriend, I already saw it. Thanks anyhow,\" he drawled acidly, turning to walk away.

\"Since you and Pansy Parkinson are still apparently joined together at the hip, I don\'t see where you have any right to behave like a prat if I have!\" Hermione shouted back, as Malfoy seethed.

\"It\'s not the same thing,\" he replied sulkily. Hermione obviously wanted to be able to be with her boyfriend. Draco wanted nothing more than to be able to be rid of his girlfriend. They were two completely different situations, and Granger was far too naïve about the world to possibly understand.

\"How is it not the same thing?\" Hermione demanded.

\"It\'s just not,\" he replied tetchily. Draco wasn\'t sure if he was jealous of Weasel, jealous because Hermione actually loved someone while Draco\'s relationship was empty, or just suffering under the side effects of having slept with Pansy recently. Looking at Granger\'s honey brown hair blowing in the slight breeze, all he wanted was to ravish her under the bleachers until something made sense. He could feel himself leaning closer to her.

\"No it\'s not,\" she agreed, \"Ron and I have agreed to be just friends for the time being.\" Draco\'s blonde head snapped up, and his expression completely changed as he raked his eyes over her. Hermione could feel herself blushing, but she was pleased with his reaction in spite of herself. She had to remind herself that she was still mad at the stupid sod, but images of his pouty lower lip brushing against her skin seemed to be getting in the way.

She remembered the story she\'d overhead Pansy Parkinson relating in the girls\' lavatory about the night of the Hogsmeade trip, and Hermione\'s anger sprang back into life. \"So once again you can lord it over me how you can still be with that foul Pansy, in spite of the potion. It wouldn\'t kill you to share your secret, Malfoy. Maybe then…\" Hermione fumed at him.

\"There is no secret, Granger,\" Malfoy told her coldly. He adjusted the bag that he used to carry his Quidditch gear so that it wouldn\'t bite into his shoulder. \"Are you here to arrange a meeting or what?\" he asked bluntly.

\"Tonight at eleven,\" Hermione announced with equal bluntness. \"I\'ll meet you in the Arithmancy room,\" she told him coolly, and without a backwards look she headed back into the stadium to watch the Gryffindors practice.

Meeting Malfoy turned out to be a more difficult endeavor than she had anticipated. Coming down the staircase to the fourth floor, Hermione had been annoyed to find Peeves creating mischief in the corridor. He was looking for students out of bed, whom he could tattle on for his own amusement, and he had just dumped a sack of Zonko\'s Jumping Marbles onto the floor. \"Oh, ikle firsties!\" he sing-songed, as the little propeller on his cap turned busily. \"Come out, come out! I smell students out of bed…\" he cackled. Hermione knew that, if he saw her, Peeves would attach himself to her side for the evening and her entire meeting with Malfoy would be lost.

She had no choice but to retrace her path up the stairs and take the back staircase that led directly to the main floor, and then she would have to trek up to the second floor from there. Hermione resigned herself to it, knowing that she was going to be very late and hoping that Malfoy had enough patience left to wait. She had a quiz coming up in Transfiguration the day after next, and she intended to have a perfect grade. Hermione knew that it wasn\'t the only reason. Malfoy, or at least various parts of him, had been in her thoughts nonstop for the last few days. She\'d spent the better part of last night tangled in her sweaty sheets as erotic dreams about the blonde Slytherin filled her head.

After having to dodge the Ravenclaw prefect in one of the corridors, Hermione finally reached Professor Vector\'s classroom. She could see a crack of light beneath the door, and she tentatively turned the handle, opening the door just the slightest crack and peeking inside.

Malfoy was seated on the professor\'s desk, facing the chalkboard. He was illuminated by the warm light of his wand and the cool, bright moonlight spilling though the wall of windows across the room from the door. His head was arched back, and his eyes were shut tight. His hand was moving slowly under his dark robes, and his breathing was slightly raspy to her ears as he touched himself unconscious of her presence.

Hermione\'s stomach did a little flip, as she watched pleasure filling his expression with the sensual movements of his hand. \"Damn it, Granger! Where the hell are you?\" he groaned, grasping the desk tightly with his fingers and pausing his secret fondling of himself. He lowered his head, as he tried to get his breathing back under control, and Hermione realized that he was getting ready to leave.

Hermione slipped through the door, and Malfoy jumped as she quietly uttered the locking and silencing spells behind herself. He rose quickly to his feet, and Hermione could tell he was about to catch her in his embrace and begin kissing and fondling her body. \"No!\" she ordered firmly as he took a step towards her. His grey eyes looked confused at her rebuff. \"I want you to finish what you were doing,\" Hermione explained. \"I believe you were on the desk,\" she told him in an imperious tone, using her wand to point.

\"This isn\'t going to help with the potion, you know,\" Draco reminded her, but he resumed his seat on the desk as she sat in the teacher\'s chair in front of him. \"Unless, you intend to give me a hand, but I could think of other…\"

\"There\'s plenty of time for that,\" Hermione said, summoning up her bravery. They both knew that this wasn\'t necessary, and it set a new precedent for these rendezvous. If Hermione had been willing to reciprocate, they could use Draco\'s fondness of oral sex to assuage their needs. This was pure curiosity. This was the power of seeing Draco Malfoy reduced to touching himself by his need for her--for Mudblood Hermione Granger. For that she was willing to offer him a second time, and the hell with the consequences.

\"As you wish,\" Malfoy said, a smug look infusing his handsome features. He undid the clasps that held his robe and let it slide onto the desk. \"It looks like I\'m a little overdressed,\" he told her with amusement, \"and you are surprisingly pervy, Granger.\" He continued to undress himself, pausing to caress his skin as he revealed new areas of his body to her view. His body seemed even more chiseled in the crisp moonlight, lean sinewy muscle that made him so exciting to watch on broomstick.

His fingers traced circles over his chest and nipples, as he sat naked before her. \"Do you want to know what I\'m fantasizing about, Granger?\" he asked softly, opening his lust-clouded eyes. \"I\'m imagining your tongue on me. Kissing little spirals over my chest, teasing my nipples like this,\" he told her, as he flicked his nipple with fast brushes of his thumb that made him moan slightly.

Hermione watched dry mouthed as he let his fingertips dance down his chest and over his flat stomach. He took his time, letting her see how much he enjoyed even the innocent caresses against his skin. He traced the insides of his thigh, starting with touches that only grazed that pale golden hair before leading into light caresses up and down his fair skin. Finally, he worked his hand around to teasing the delicate skin of his scrotum, cupping his balls and squeezing them gently. \"When I touch myself like this, I can imagine that it\'s your hands exploring my balls, squeezing them and caressing them,\" he told her, bringing his fingers to his mouth.

He let his saliva coat those long nimble fingers and stared into her eyes as he brought his hand back down to the heavy sac at the juncture of his thighs. \"Now, I can imagine that it\'s your mouth, as you suck my balls into your mouth one at a time and explore them with your tongue,\" he whispered hoarsely, closing his eyes and surrendering to the images inside his mind as he squeezed and rubbed his testicles one at a time for her to watch. \"With a different touch I can imagine that you are straddling me and rubbing your wet pussy against them. You really should try that sometime, Granger,\" he said with a note of longing in his voice.

His fingers brushed against the base of his hard, aching cock, as he continued to stroke his tightening scrotum wthe the flats of his fingers. \"I can almost see your heady expression as your clit rubs against my shaft, and you slowly start making your way up my body with each thrust of your hips,\" he hissed, letting his fingers move up to pleasure his bulging hardness. He paused to renew the saliva on his fingertips, before continuing upwards. \"I could imagine your mouth, yo, your tongue tracing up my shaft or tickling the tip,\" he said, breaking into a loud groan as his fingers illustrated what he was imagining.

Hermione could barely keep herself in the chair as she watched the subtle play of his fingers over his heated flesh. The throbbing in her core screamed for him to fill it, and the sweltering heat between her thighs felt unbearable. She considered climbing onto his lap and plunging herself onto his heavy penis, but she was supposed to be the one in control. She reached under her skirt to relieve some of the need and tension coiling in her sex, but Malfoy\'s keen eyes caught the movement, and he captured her wrist in his other hand. \"You wanted the full show, Granger,\" he reminded her. \"The least you can do is pay attention to it.\"

\"If I wasn\'t paying attention, I wouldn\'t have felt the need to touch myself,\" Hermione told him indignantly. She pried her arm from his grasp, but she kept her hands on the armrests when he instructed her to. \"So what do you think about once you really get hot?\" she asked, wondering if she might soon boil to death from the lust coursing through her veins.

His flushed face broke into one of his lazy smirks, as he wrapped his fingers snugly around his thick cock. Draco wanted nothing more than to drive into her willing body until there was nothing else in the world but her flesh against his, but he was determined to put on a good show after seeing the effect it was having on the brainy witch. His fingers stroked upwards from the base, jerking twice over the swollen purplish head, before sliding back down and starting again. He made a low hissing sound of satisfaction, and his head lolled forward towards his shoulder--his face a mask of concentration. \"Right now, Granger, I\'m thinking about bending you over this desk so that your pussy is sticking out like a tart while I fuck you,\" he told her between ragged breaths.

\"You like the idea of making me into a strumpet, don\'t you Malfoy?\" Hermione whispered, leaning forward with her hands planted on his slightly parted thiso sso she could study every detail of him from the veins pulsing on his throbbing staff to the fine beads of perspiration forming on his creased brow. The rise and fall of his hand over his burgeoning arousal stroked her desire as surely and deftly as he stroked his own hard flesh. He was get ver very close, and his movements had become rougher and faster as small noises of pleasure tore themselves from his throat.

\"Oh, yeah,\" he drawled, throwing his head back again as his pace increased and his hips jerked in response to each stroke. \"Almost as much as you enjoy hearing how I fantasize about you when I masturbate. You like the power, just like I like the power I have over you when I\'m making you cry out and quake around me. I\'m thinking about driving my knob into you until you whimper and explode. We\'re both almost there, and…ohhh\" he broke off into a moan, and his other hand began to squeeze his aching balls as he whimpered.

Hermione could see that point where the pleasure and need became so intense that it was almost painful; it was right there in Malfoy\'s face. Perhaps it was the strange vulnerability showing that made Malfoy so striking in these moments. His eyes shut tightly, and he panted raggedly as he came hard, his seed bursting over his clenched hand and across his flat abdomen as he shivered with the force of it.

Hermione leaned forward, catching the small gasps and moans from his open mouth in feather soft kisses as she cupped his balls in her palm and smoothed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes with her other hand. He kissed her back affectionately, wrapping one arm around her waist to draw her closer between his knees. Then he rested his hot forehead against her shoulder and simply enjoyed her gentle touching and petting.

\"Your turn,\" he sighed against her neck, as his fingers grazed the backs of her thighs. Despite her protests, Draco maneuvered her onto the desk, as he used a simple cleaning spell on himself and took his turn in the professor\'s chair. \"If you get stage fright, I\'ll tell you what to do,\" he promised with a husky chuckle.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him before unclasping her own robes and beginning to caress herself through her light sweater. She felt terribly self-conscious, although he seemed totally at ease sitting completely nude in front of her. His eyes followed her hands over her pert breasts, and he whispered words of encouragement to her. Hermione relaxed and her own nasty fantasies sprang to life behind her closed eyes, while she caressed herself and stripped away her restrictive clothes. Soon she was naked before him and in an extreme state of arousal.

\"I can pinch or gently pull on my nipples and imagine that it\'s your touch,\" she was whispering as her fingers tweaked over the enflamed, rosy crowf hef her breasts, \"but nothing can quite mimic the suction of your mouth. I remember your mouth suckling and nipping at my breasts when I want to really get hot.\" She moved one hand up to her throat, stroking the side of her neck lightly with the backs of her fingers. \"Nothing can replace you doing the same on my throat either. It cuts straight through me, like a direct jolt right into that aching core that I want filled. I can feel my body clamp down so hard that it hurts to be empty,\" she told him. Hermione was shocked at her own boldness, but telling him was turning her own even more.

She could hear Malfoy make a small longing sound, and she wondered if she had done the same watching him. She loved those gratifying little noises; they were a wordless admission of his desire, of her effect on his body and thoughts. \"I like it when you make those noises,\" she admitted, as she placed her foot upon the arm of the chair and let her otheg hag hang down the side of the desk. The blonde wizard gaped, and his tongue unconsciously flicked out to moisten his dry lips.

She felt dirty for striking such a revealing pose, but the reactions of the man watching her proved that the gesture was being appreciated. Hermione slowly touched the back of her thigh, stroking her way up and along the inside of her leg and tracing the juncture of her hip. \"I didn\'t used to fantasize about a man\'s mouth on my sex,\" she said, as her fingers grazed the plump outer lips nestled between her legs.

Her light brown pubic hair was trimmed neatly, a habit she\'d acquired from many beach vacations over the summers, and with the pose Malfoy could see the glistening, pink folds pouting out, waiting for the slightest touch. \"But you\'ve made me hungry for it,\" she said. \"I\'m thinking about your tongue tasting me, flicking over me like this,\" she continued, as she tapped her fingertip across the rosy pearl of responsive heat hidden in her furled sex.

\"Spread yourself, Granger,\" Malfoy instructed breathlessly. He slowly rubbed her knee, as she complied and he could see her quivering, ready sex waiting for him. A surge of lust exploded in his groin with the power of an Unforgivable curse, as he gazed upon her glistening core and imagined the delicious feeling of thrusting into that tight sheath hard enough to elicit helpless sounds of pleasure from her. \"What do you do when the emptiness becomes too much?\" he prompted, raising an eyebrow wryly and planting a kiss on the inside of her knee.

He almost leapt from the chair and tackled her, as she slid her middle finger into her slick passage and began pumping it in and out. Draco felt his second erection of the night jealously twitch in response. He leaned back in the chair, and it rested against his stomach straight as an arrow pointing to his belly button while he watched Hermione stretch herself around a second slender finger.

\"At first I imagine it\'s your fingers or your tongue pressing into me,\" she sighed, arching her back as she pumped her fingers and flicked her other hand over her burning nub. \"There\'s just something about the image of your blonde head burrowing between my open legs,\" she added dreamily.

She reclined comfortably onto her back as her motions took on a regular rhythm, and she turned her head from side to side as the feelings rode her. \"I imagine you thrusting deep inside me,\" she gasped, raising her hips as her muscles squeezed against her fingers. Her whole body was tightening as the energy pooled around the motions of her fingers, and Hermione could feel small tremors in her arms and legs as that dawning release drew closer.

She was aware of Malfoy standing over her, gently stroking the tops of her thighs. She opened her eyes briefly to meet his possessive stare resting upon her face. She felt helpless and desperate as she locked eyes with him for a moment, and she knew he was watching that same helpless play of emotions across her features that she found so beautiful upon his countenance. His gaze was too personal in this intense vortex of sensation, and Hermione shut her eyes tightly and screamed as her climax ripped through her shaking body, making her arch under its intensity.

She distantly heard Malfoy casting the contraceptive chareforefore he pulled her hands away and flipped her onto her stomach over the desk with her legs still wide apart. His fingers grasped her hips with bruising strength as he positioned himself against her opening and forcefully thrust his aching cock into her. Hermione cried out again, pushing back against him, as he bent over her to kiss and nibble at her throat while her body contracted around his deeply seated invasion.

He continued those butterfly light kisses as he drew his hips back with agonizing slowness, pulling out a millimeter at a time. When only the head of his engorged penis remained inside her, Draco rammed himself back into Hermione\'s tight passage as deeply as he could. Hermione yelped again, as the movement rode the line between pleasure and pain, and she could feel her body growing wetter around him. Their cast-off clothing cushioned her hips against the edge of the desk, but she could still feel it bite into her legs he she strength of his thrust. She longed for him to drive into her furiously, pounding himself into her vulnerable opening, but he had plans of his own.

He kissed a trail along her spine as he began to withdraw excruciatingly slowly again, nearly pulling out completely before brutally shoving his broad shaft fully and wonderfully deep inside her. He continued, enjoying her frustrated whimpers during his arduously slow withdrawals and her cries at his fast, powerful thrusts. His studied slowness kept Hermione off-kilter; unable to anticipate when he would suddenly fill her to the brink. It was incredible, heavenly and torturous all at once.

\"You\'re mine, Granger,\" he whispered against her ear as he slammed into her again, pushing her hips forward with the force of his jab, and Hermione heard herself agreeing between cries and moans.

She wanted him to go on like this forever, and she needed him to give her more. She needed that pounding rhythm of his body driving in and out of her, stoking and quenching the flames of her passion with every movement. \"Oh, please,\" she heard herself begging no longer able to form her feelings into words, as he slid back with that deliberate control. \"Oh, please…\" she repeated, crying out loudly as he plunged himself fiercely into her defenseless sex as hard as she could take him.

She turned her face, to see him watching her reactions very closely. She could see the mix of control and protectiveness in his expression; he needed more too but was holding himself in check so that he could possess her completely first. Hermione leaned her head back, turning her chest as far as she could, and caught his flushed lips in a kiss, using it to convey her need for him as she desperately pulled at his mouth with her own, and he responded readily. It was the signal that he needed, and his unpredictable hm ehm eased into the steady pace that her core throbbed for.

\"Oh, Merlin, yes, Malfoy,\" she ground out, as his fingers snaked beneath her hips to fondle her bursting sex. He pinched and stroked her inflamed flesh, rolling her clitoris between his fingers gently as she bucked beneath his hammering assault upon her senses.

\"Do you want to feel it, Granger?\" he grunted, between fleeting kisses over her neck and ear and jaw. \"Do you want to feel it when I explode?\" he repeated, as she groaned with her approaching climax. Her walls were gripping him tighter with each fitting of his body into hers, and he knew neither of them had much longer before they both lost themselves to those paroxysms of intense pleasure.

\"Yes,\" she breathed softly, letting him see all the way into her unguarded chocolate eyes. He kissed her fluttering eyelids as she reared beneath him and her body clasped him in the first of a wave of contractions.

Draco felt himself ready to flood her, and he pulled out, positioning himself against her quaking opening. He came in a series of powerful spurts, and Hermione gasped with delight as the recurring bursts against the sensitive skin around her entrance extended the spasms of her body. Draco groaned loudly, raising his head back, as his neck corded tightly with the exertions of his body, then he buried himself inside her again to finish where he could enjoy the sensation of her body milking him.

Draco let his body fall across her back after he was spent, and he rained kisses across her skin affectionately. Hermione was holding his hand in hers and caressing his fingers, tenderly in response. He brushed his soft cheek against her shoulder blade as he planted another kiss upon her skin. \"I get so tired of it all sometimes,\" he confessed quietly. He always was filled with a frightening need to talk after these bouts. It was so calming and safe where he was right now, and lately he couldn\'t always help himself.

\"So tired of what?\" Hermione asked drowsily, placing a kiss upon his open palm before releasing his hand.

\"Everything,\" he snorted, running his hands down her arms and over her sides. \"I\'m tired of failing, of always coming in second to Potter, of never measuring up to what my father expects, of damnable phony relationships,\" he whispered with the desperate need to unburden himself.

He looked briefly into her curious brown eyes and buried his face against her back again before continuing. \"It\'s not like you could think any less of me than you already do, so I suppose it wouldn\'t even surprise you to know that I\'ve never been in love with Pansy. Father arranged the engagement. Now you know why I brewed that stupid potion. That\'s why I said it\'s not the same thing, and…\" he paused fumbling for his words while trying to keep the emotions out of his voice. \"And I thought you had the right to know,\" he concluded quickly, feeling sad and alone after his little admission.

Hermione reached back and twirled a lock of his pale hair around her finger as she looked back at him with shock. She looked away quickly. Soul confessions from Draco Malfoy were apparently not on her expected agenda for the day. \"I\'m worried about the Quidditch game,\" she admitted, changing the subject completely. \"Do you think your father will try to kill my parents during the match?\" she asked with a hint of genuine nervousness.

\"What? With Dumbledore right there in the top box?\" Draco asked, with a hint of amusement in his voice. Although Granger had the measure of Lucius as a Death Eater, she was woefully underestimating his intelligence. \"Who wouldn\'t want to commit murder in front of over a thousand witnesses?\" Draco mused sarcastically, and Hermione gave his hair a good yank.

\"That\'s quite enough, Malfoy,\" she said haughtily. She realized that it was a stupid fear, but she did worry that Lucius Malfoy would secretly find a way. She\'d had dreams that ended with the snobbish man emerging from the charred and smoking remains of the top box and declaring to authorities that he had no idea what had happened but that it was tragic. Even if the dreams were dumb, they were a genuine fear. \"Some help you are,\" she complained.

\"Well, while you and your parents are entertaining my mother and father, I\'ll be busy humiliating myself on a broomstick,\" he said with a dry chuckle. He lazily traced patterns on her back with his fingertip. \"I can always try to make my loss to Potter outrageous enough to serve as a distraction if the situation looks dire, but I\'m afraid that\'s as much help as I can offer,\" he sighed with a note of bitterness in his laughter.

\"Honestly, Malfoy!\" Hermione scolded. \"If you actually concentrated on catching the Snitch instead of how to show up Harry, you might finally catch the bloody thing.\" She felt him shifting on top of her, as he crossed his arms over her back and rested his chin upon them.

It was Draco\'s turn to look shocked, as he fixed her with a puzzled stare. \"Granger, that\'s dangerously close to saying you think I have a chance at beating that annoyingly lucky sod!\" he accused with a small flush of pride.

\"He does have a name, you know?\" Hermione replied with her familiar superior tone.

\"Yes, and everyone else knows it too,\" Draco chuckled. \"That\'s the problem. So you really think I can win, huh?\" he asked returning to a subject that he liked better.

\"I\'d still bet on Gryffindor,\" she told him aloofly.

\"Fine, it\'s a bet,\" he agreed. Before she could correct him about her meaning, he kept talking. \"I will need to concentrate out there, so we have to meet the day before the game, preferably early enough for me to be rested on the pitch. Why don\'t we let the winner set the terms for our next meeting after the match?\" he suggested with too much good humor in his voice. He hadn\'t misinterpreted her sarcasm, but he was trying to use it to his advantage.

Hermione knew that the bet would be a win-win proposition anyhow, and she agreed after making due show about him coercing her into it. Her mind was too busy trying to understand tonight\'s game of post-coital confessions for her to worry about minor bets. She had no reason to entrust her fears about the upcoming match to Malfoy, and he certainly had never shown the need to reveal that much about his life to her before.

After cleaning up any trace of what had just occurred, they donned their robes and slipped out into the hallway silently. Hermione could feel Malfoy\'s large hand resting against the small of her back as they headed towards the main stairwell, and she resisted the urge to rest her head against his chest. She felt too tired to walk all the way back to her room. \"I\'m not carrying you home and tucking you in,\" Malfoy grumbled beside her as she swerved a little on her feet, and Hermione laughed quietly as they went their separate ways at the stairs.

After the coast was clear, a shadow detached itself from its hiding place in the corridor. Crossing its arms over its chest, it stared after the strange couple with eyes narrowed in suspicion. Muttering a curse under its breath the figure angrily punched the nearest wall, before resting its head against the cool and soothing stone.

******************

Author\'s Notes: And the plot thickens! I have to admit it\'s fun to write Lucius; he\'s so terribly evil. This is easily the longest chapter I\'ve typed yet. It\'s twice the length of the early chapters, but I just couldn\'t stop this one early. I\'ll probably have to proof this one after it\'s been up for a few days, because it will take that long before my eyes can focus again! *grin*

For those who don\'t remember, Barty Crouch Jr. transfigured his father\'s body into a bone and buried it in the same turned soil where Hagrid buried the Leprechaun gold. You\'ll just have to wait for the spell that uses flesh, blood, and bone, but I think there should be enough happening to keep everyone occupied for a good while. LOL

I hope everyone is ready to play some Quidditch in the next chapter. I may even throw in something about exactly who saw Draco and Hermione in the corridor. I wonder how long I can keep everyone guessing… hehe. I\'ll try to update again soon, and thanks to everyone who\'s been reading and reviewing.

Ohhhhh.... I just found out that Adamo Fidelitas has been nominated at the Icicle Awards! It\'s a site where Draco/Hermione fans can vote for their favorite stories and websites. Not only is the other competition really steep in the stories, but AF is the only NC-17 story nominated! Anyone NC-17 fans who want to cast a vote my way, here\'s the address:

http://www.geocities.com/icicle_awards/home.html