Halloween Mix-Up

Halloween Mix-Up

by: Tassana Burrfoot







Chapter Eight: Depths





For a moment, Draco wasn't sure he had heard correctly. Did she just say I was her chosen first? But, then, who was he to question her decision? If she wanted him to be her first, then that's how it would be. He wouldn't complain.



He flashed her a cocky smile. "Where would you like to go?" he asked.



She looked around them and shrugged. "I've never done this before," she answered honestly. "Don't you know of any place?"



"Granger, I know of many places," he confided.



She nodded and took his hand into hers. "Surprise me," she challenged.



He chuckled. Surprise her, huh? She wanted him to surprise her. Well, he wasn't one to back down from a challenge.



He slipped her glove off her hand and pocketed it and led her down the hall. "No need to wear that. I like feeling your skin against mine," he told her, taking her hand into his.



Startled, she questioned, "Aren't you worried about someone seeing?"



He rolled his eyes. "The spell, Granger. Do you really think I'm worried? Right now I'm madly in love with you. I want to make love to you right here in the corridor. Believe me, someone seeing me holding your hand does not bother me in the least."



She nodded slowly as she followed him. They walked through various halls, passing different people, and earning stares and whispers along the way. "Uh, Malfoy," she said as they entered yet another corridor, "I've been thinking. Since we are about to do this, I... well, I would like to be on a first name basis with you. If that's alright with you?"



He threw her a smile. "Of course, Hermione. I've been waiting for you to suggest it," he replied. "I know how difficult all of this is for you. First name basis works perfectly for me."



Her own smile widened as she looked around. "Where are we going, Mal... I mean, Draco?" she questioned, realizing she had no idea where they were. And she thought she knew where everything was in the castle.



His smile grew mischievous. "You'll see," was the only response she earned.



He finally brought her to a large door that was surrounded by two old portraits. He rolled his eyes at the paintings. "Don't mind them," he told her as the portraits looked at the couple curiously.



"Who are they?" she asked, returning the paintings bewildered looks.



He shrugged. "Not a clue. They don't ever talk. Come on," he urged, opening the door and pulling her inside.



Stepping into the room, she gasped when she saw how large it was. There was a king sized four poster bed within the middle of the room. A large gold fur rug covered the stone floor. There were no adornments on the walls, just stone.



"What is this place?" she asked.



"A good hideout," he answered. "My father told me about this place when I first started here. There's a certain stone you can tap and a huge fireplace appears within the stone work."



"And the light?"



He pointed up to a large crystal chandelier centered in the room. "Is it to your liking?"



"How did your father find this place?"



He rolled his eyes. "Suffice it to say, my mother was not a virgin when they married. I'd really rather not talk about my parents' sex lives, thank you. Especially when I have such a beautiful girl holding my hand."



Before she could agree or protest, he pulled her into an embrace and covered her mouth with his. His kiss was not demanding or needy. It was sweet and gentle. His lips and tongue caressed hers as though she were as delicate as a teardrop.



As he kissed her, he gently slipped off their robes. He did not abandon her mouth as he undid their ties and began to unbutton their shirts. Only when she gave a soft gasp did he break the kiss.



They were both panting, though his caresses had been featherlight and slow. Cool, silver eyes met warm honey as he delved into her soul. "I promise," he breathed hoarsely, "I will make this as painless as possible. I know it's your first time. I'll be gentle. You can trust me."



Her mind was reeling. In her heart, she knew she could trust him. Draco was speaking the truth. In his state of mind, he would not do anything to harm her. She fought her mind from thinking over the fact that Draco Malfoy and "trust" didn't generally mix well. To show him how much she trusted him, she finished unbuttoning her shirt and let it fall off her shoulders.



He smiled as he gazed at her upper body. Her act told him that she was willing. He did not hesitate to undo and pull off her bra. He dipped his head and took a nipple into his mouth. She gasped at the feel, but he did not relent. As promised, he was gentle with her, sucking and swirling with his tongue. He did not bite nor nip, though he did hold the nipple between his teeth so he could tease it with the tip of his tongue.



Her hands embedded themselves in his hair and pulled his head closer to her. He chuckled against her heated skin, but made no protest. Instead, he circled her waist with his arms and pulled her entire body closer to his. He let his lips trail to her other breast and gave it the same attention as the first. Then, he trailed soft, sweet kisses up her neck, along her jawline, and back to her mouth.



As their lips met, he pressed his own need against her stomach. He felt her tense, but continued to kiss her. His hips developed a slow grinding rhythm as his tongue played a sort of "tongue-o-war" with hers. He knew she would have to get used to the feel of a man's desire. It was important, for he also knew he would not be her last.



That thought disturbed him and he quickly dismissed it. He'll save his regrets for later. For now, he wished in indulge in his love for her. Perhaps, in time, she'll learn that his love for her is much more real than some silly spell? While he prayed he was her true love, he knew such thoughts were futile. It was important to live in the now with her... for now.



He succumbed to his desires and began stripping away the rest of their clothes. She helped a bit, stepping out of her skirt and kicking off her shoes. He led her to the bed with little difficulty, kissing her all the way. He loved the way she tasted.



As they fell onto the bed, she began to grow nervous. The entire time they had been making out, she had kept her eyes closed. She knew he had been undressing the both of them, but... she had never seen a naked boy before. She had shut her eyes for fear of what she might find.



"Hermione, look at me," he croaked as he touched her cheek with his forefinger.



She slowly opened her eyes to stare into his silver ones. His eyes were molten with a fiery desire. She knew she could easily melt into those eyes. And she wasn't entire sure she'd regret it. There was an unspoken truth within those eyes that she had never seen before. She didn't understand it, probably never will.



There was also an unspoken vow. She knew what he promised, she remembered. He would not hurt her. For the first time in her life, Hermione felt completely and utterly safe.



Her face softened into a smile and he returned it. He broke their gaze by closing his eyes and pulling her into another kiss. This time, she was not nervous. All her fears had been melted away by his eyes. She felt protected and safe. She was ready for him.



He slowly slid atop her as he continued to kiss her. He knew she would cry. The innocent always cried when their innocence was taken away. To him, she was more innocent than a kitten's first walk.



Draco slipped his knee between her legs and gently pried them apart. The head of his penis caressed her moist folds. Although his body demanded him to enter, he stayed. He continued his rhythm from before, the slow, gentle grind. No entry, no push. Just let her get used to the feel.



She loved the way he felt. It was like nothing she had imagined. She pushed against him, begging to be closer.



"Soon, my love," he whispered against her lips as he continued his pace.



He smiled inwardly at her impatience. It was, like her, an innocent impatience. It was an instinctual desire to be close to your mate, to feel your mate's soul.



He pushed the head of his penis into her entrance. She gasped against his lips and he sighed. He wanted to go further, but he knew that gasp. It was the gasp of the suddenly fearful, the shocked. The pained. She hadn't expected the feel.



He did not let her argue, pull away, or move. He simply stayed right where he was and continued to kiss her. This was a new venture for her. The first time was always painful. He would give her time to get used to the feel.



She could feel the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Why wouldn't he let go? She was in pain, it hurt. She wanted to find a corner somewhere and curl up into a small ball. She knew the first time would hurt, but she didn't think it would hurt too badly. She knew he wasn't all the way in, but just this small bit told her it would hurt like hell.



Once he felt her start to relax, he pushed a little further. She tensed again and gasped into his mouth. This was so damned frustrating! She was in pain and he was trying his hardest to take his time, to let her get used to it. But, he wanted, no needed to be close to her.



"I need you to relax, baby," he croaked against her lips. "Just relax. It will only hurt for a second and then it'll get better. I promise. It will get better."



She didn't want to believe him. She couldn't believe him. How could something so painful get better? But, again, her heart and her instinct told her to trust him. He knew what he was doing. He was the Slytherin Prince and the most sought after teenage bachelor on the market. He had been with countless girls. He knew what he was doing, knew what he was talking about.



Slowly, she began to relax. She could trust him. He was gentle. He was kind thus far. He was good. He was... She gave a gut-wrenching scream. He was suddenly buried balls deep inside of her.



He held her as she screamed, as she cried. Yes, this room had been a very good idea. It was secluded and sound-proof. She had fist fulls of his hair in her hands as she sobbed at her pain. He did not care. He knew the pain he felt in his scalp was nothing compared to the pain she currently felt.



Her crying became a soft sob and finally died down to infrequent shudders. He held her close as he waited out her pain and her fears. Once he felt her settle down and get comfortable, he looked down at her. "Are you ready for the good part?" he asked.



She glared up at him incredulously. Before she could demand to know what the "good part" could possibly be, he moved. She hesitated and looked at him in confusion. He moved again and her eyes widened. He began moving in the same manner he had been moving the entire time. The slow, rhythm grind, only this time, he was pulling out and pushing back in.



At first, all she felt was the pain. But, then, it began to feel good. And then, it started feeling better. She closed her eyes to better experience the incredible feeling he was giving to her, enjoying the slow rhythm.



When he saw she was no longer going to protest, he started moving his hips faster. He smirked at the pleasurable expression on her face as he began to pound into her. As his pace quickened further, he found he could no longer keep his own eyes open. The feel of her was too great, his need too strong.



Stroke after stroke, he thrust into her. With a holler of ecstasy, she climaxed. He quickened his pace a bit more and joined her in her descend back to earth.





(II) (II)



Hermione couldn't stop smiling at him. They were now walking down the hallway towards the Gryffindor common room. Though her insides were a bit sore, she felt wonderful. "Thank you, Draco," she said for the umpteenth time.



He laughed, "Darling, for you, I'd ride my broom to the stars. You really do not need to thank me. I got just as much pleasure from it as you did."



She giggled, "I'll bet you did. You certainly sounded like you got pleasure from it."



She snorted when she saw him blush. "Yeah," he said, "let's not talk about that. I don't need it going around school that Draco Malfoy was ever... loud."



She threw her head back in laughter. "Very well. Your secret is safe with me," she assured him.



They reached her common room and stopped at the Fat Lady's portrait. Hermione turned to him and smiled into his molten silver eyes. "Again, thank you, Draco," she repeated. "That was something I will always remember."



"And never regret," he pointed out, as he leaned in for a kiss.



She wrapped her hands around his neck as they pressed their lips against one another's. She loved the way he tasted, the way he felt. She couldn't wait until the morrow when she'd be able to hold his hand while walking to class.



"You will come and get me in the morning?" she asked him as they broke the kiss.



He nodded. "I will come here, though I will not enter the Gryffindor common room. I'll wait outside. What time would you like to meet?"



"How does 7 sound?" she asked.



He thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Seven sounds good. Until then, goodnight, my sweet Hermione."



Before she could answer, a voice interrupted them, "'Sweet Hermione?'"



Startled, Hermione jumped. The back of her hand flew right into Seamus Finnigan's face. Her eyes widened. "Seamus! I'm so sorry!" she quickly apologized.



The Irish Gryffindor rubbed his jaw. "It's quite all right. What's Malfoy doing here?"



But she never heard his question. Her gaze went from his face to her bare hand in horror. She had forgotten to put on her gloves.