Suspicion

TITLE: Suspicion
SHIP: D/Hr Goodness
RATING: NC-17, just to be safe
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing in the Potterverse. If I did, I’d be rolling in cash on a nice ranch, muddin\' with my brand new 4x4 F150 to my heart’s content. However, all characters and canon situations belong entirely to the Queen of the Potterverse, JKR. I humble myself before her and beg not to be sued. The intentions of the fic are good in nature. No profit was made from the writing of this fic. The plot is mine. Anyone caught stealing it without my written(e-mailed) consent will be cursed and tattled on/reported. It is intended to be a one-shot but may be chaptered if I feel the calling to write more on it. Enjoy! ^_^
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*BANG*BANG*BANG*

“Hermione!” a voice called from the other side of the door. “Hermione, I know you’re in there!”

“Too early,” Hermione mumbled in her sleep, snuggling deeper into the covers.

“Hermione, it’s Ron and Harry!”

The shouting and banging persisted.

“Mmph,” she whined.

“Go tell Potter and Weasley to leave you the hell alone,” grumbled a rich tenor voice. She felt the vibrations against her face where she lay against his chest. “Then maybe we can get some time together.”

“This early?” Hermione asked in as scandalized a voice as she could manage. At this time of the morning he was thinking about that? And really, did those two have to come get her before the sun rose?

“I never said anything about that,” he replied with a smirk, eyes still closed, arm still around her shoulders where she lay curled up under it. “I just want to sleep.”

*BANG*BANG*

“‘Miiiiooneeeeeee!!!” Ron stretched her name out in a severely whiny voice.

“For God’s sake, Hermione,” he grumbled. “Put that wretch out of his misery or I will.”

“I hate you,” she growled, reluctantly crawling out of the warmth of the bed.

She didn’t even bother with a robe as she made her way to the door of her expansive Head Girl quarters, answering her friends’ call for her in nothing but a Seventh Year boy’s oxford and her underwear.

“What do you want?” she snapped irritably, snatching the door open irately and smoothing a hand through her messier than usual hair.

“‘Mione,” Ron began with a smile that transformed into a look of surprise, “why are you dressed like that?”

“Dressed like what, Ron?” Hermione glared, pissed that they had woke her up. She was having such a good dream, too. “This?” she motioned to her shirt. “Most people don’t go to bed fully clothed. I don’t know what the fuss is about,” she yawned. “Now, what are you two carrying on about?”

“We tried to wake you up before,” Ron began. “Harry’s had another dream.”

“But you wouldn’t come to the door,” Harry said.

“I wouldn’t expect so,” Hermione stated irritably. “It’s four o’clock in the bloody morning.”

“I know,” Harry said. “But it was really important. And when you wouldn’t come to your door, I panicked. So, we went to Malfoy’s room–”

“You went to Malfoy’s room?” Hermione asked, absolutely shocked.

“Last resort, ‘Mione,” Harry explained. “He has access to your room through your bathroom, remember? He’d be able to get you up.”

“Right after he cursed you to pieces,” Hermione snorted. “He hates having his sleep disturbed.”

“How would you know?” Ron asked.

“I was on the receiving end of a curse I have yet to figure out,” she replied. “It wasn’t pretty. I can tell you that.”

“That bastard,” Ron growled.

“There’s nothing you can do about it now, and I’ve learned my lesson. Now, about this dream?”

“Right,” Harry said, turning grave. “It felt so real. I saw you in your room. There wasn’t anything out of place, except that there was blood everywhere. Your blood. I was scared. I remembered the last time I had dream like that I coI couldn’t stand just sitting there trying to tell myself that it wasn’t real and that you were fine. I had to see for myself.... And is that Malfoy’s shirt?”

“Excuse me?” Hermione blinked, rather taken aback by Harry’s blunt question. “What makes you think this is– better yet, what makes you think I’d have Malfoy’s shirt?”

“Easy, ‘Mione,” Harry replied, pointing to something glinting on the collar. “His Head Boy pin.”

“Oh my God,” Ron gasped. “That is Malfoy’s.”

Think quick, Hermione, she told herself. Think quick... Got it!

“I must have mixed them up,” she said.

“Mixed them up?” they both asked, very confused.

“Yes,” she answered. “I’ve always liked these, so I bought one in a larger size to sleep in at the beginning of the year. I must have accidentally mixed mine up with his in the wash.”

Harry seemed to consider this for a while, while Ron readily accepted it.

“All right,” Harry said skeptically. “I’ll let you go back to bed. I’m just glad to know that you’re all right.”

“It’s nice to know you care so much,” Hermione said, giving Harry a small smile. “I’ll see you two later on.”

“See you later, ‘Mione,” Harry said as he and Ron turned and left.

Sighing, Hermione shut the door behind her and walked back toward the bed.

“You look so sexy,” the tenor voice called out from the bed. “I like my clothes on you.”

Hermione just smiled at him and climbed back up onto the bed at the foot.

“I think they’re starting to suspect,” she said as she crawled up the length of his long body and he placed his hands behind his head, sweeping his eyes over her face and hair.

“I don’t think so,” he said, his silver eyes glinting in the dark. “Not as long as you keep lying as well as you do.”

“I learned from the best,” she stated, straddling his hips. “And they’ll believe me until they have reason to think otherwise.”

“Why should they believe you?” he asked, fighting back a groan as she rubbed against his hardening bulge, only the thin material of her panties and his boxers separating them. “You are fucking the Head Boy out of his mind, after all. They sniffed out my badge on you. I was not in my room when they tried to get me. It’s all there– don’t stop what you’re doing– they just haven’t put it all together yet.”

“Harry’s a smart boy, though,” Hermione said, grinding into him with long, slow strokes. “It won’t be long before he figuresethiething out.”

He moved his hands to her hips and pulled down for more friction.

“To hell with him,” he spoke in a strangled voice and then let out a moan deep in his throat. “‘Mione, we have to stop or else I won’t be of much use.”

“All right,” she said, satisfied with herself for making him nearly lose control.

She stopped rubbing against him and lay on by his side, one leg still thrown over his.

“You have such beautiful hair,” she commented as she stroked it gently, feeling the silky blonde strands run smoothly through her fingers. “It’s so soft.”

“There are parts of me that aren’t,” he said in a husky tone, turning to look her in the eye.

He proficiently rolled over onto her, pushing her down on her back underneath himself.

“What do you say, Granger?” he asked in the same dark voice. “Fancy finding out about my hard parts?”

Merlin, he’s sexy, she thought as she peered up at his aristocratic face.

“I haven’t any idea what you’re implying, Malfoy,” she smirked.

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” he replied, pushing his hardened member up against her, making sure she felt it all. She raised her hips to meet his, letting out a small moan as she did so. “What do you want, ‘Mione?” he taunted her.

“You know what I want,” she growled at him. “And don’t you even dare think of stringing this out.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he smirked at her in the dark.

He bent down and met her lips with his own. He felt so warm against her, full of life, full of passion. She brought her hands up to his neck, her fingertips dancing across his bare, taut chest all the way. Slowly, he ran the tip of his tongue across her bottom lip as one of his hands brushed down across one of her breasts. Hermione gasped at the combination of sensations and granted him the access into her mouth that he wanted. She gripped his hair tightly as she felt him tug lightly at her nippleoughough the shirt she had on.

Pulling away slightly, she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and ran the tip of her tongue along the very edge of it. She felt him get harder, if that was even possible at this point, and heard him choke back a low moan. She knew what she was doing, the little tease.

He slid his hand down from her breast to her thigh, trailing a finger up the sensitive flesh on the inside. Automatically, she rolled her hips further out for him as he traced light patterns upward and ever so closer to where she wanted them. She felt an intense heat pool in her center that flooded out through her body every time he came closer.

Finally, she thought as she felt him trace the outline of her panties. She let out a high-pitched moan when she felt him lightly stroke her sensitive nub through the thin, but all-too-restricting fabric. He tugged the garment down with a little help from her and tossed them onto the floor. Much better, she sighed contentedly as she eased back down and felt his hands upon her again.

“Unbutton your shirt,” Draco commanded as he flicked his index finger across her nub again.

She complied, writhing underneath him a bit. Slowly, button by button, she began to unbutton the shirt she was wearing, bottom to top. She knew he liked it and made as much of a show of it as she could, arching her back and running her hands over newly exposed skin.

She gave a surprised and contented yelp as she felt him drive two long fingers into her hot core. She smirked and continued her little show. She knew it was his way of telling her that he really, really liked what she was doing, even though it wasn’t to him.

And she was very right. There was nothing in the world that Draco Malfoy wanted to do at that moment than to bury himself as far as he could into her and not stop until he was completely satisfied. He knew he’d get to, but he just had to hold out as long as possible, however hard it was proving to be.

Hermione finally got the last button undone and found Draco in a hurry to rid himself of his boxers. His eyes were nearly black and his breathing was heavily labored as he fought desperately for control. Between the two of them, his boxers quickly joined her panties on the floor and nothing separated them any longer.

She gripped his biceps and rolled her hips back as he readied himself for her. He leaned down once more to kiss her hard on the lips.

“I want to hear it,” he whispered to her as he plunged deep into her.

Hermione gave a moan much louder than she really should have at the feeling of overwhelming fulfillment. Nothing in the world felt nearly as good as he did in her. Nothing even compared to it in her mind. She moved one hand to his shoulder for a better grip as he began a steady pace.

Draco let out a feral growl as he entered her. She was so tight it drove him crazy. He was drowning in her and found it difficult to maintain his fragile composure and a slower pace than what he really wanted. He wanted so badly just to pound into her over and over again until she was screaming and crying for release. She knew better than to get him all riled up, he mused. But she also knew better than to leave him like that as well.

She threw her head back, unable to keep her eyes open, as he picked up speed a bit. Digging her nails into his back, she moaned his name faintly as another deep wave of pleasure hit her. This wasn’t working; his control was slipping quickly; he wasn’t going to be able to hang on for much longer or else he’d go mad. His pleading eyes met hers and she nodded lightly to him and bit down on her lip, screwing her face up in agonizing pleasure as he let go and released everything he had been holding back.

She dug her nails into him even harder as he slammed into her at an alarming rate. Letting out an uncharacteristically animalistic grunt, he faintly heard her high-pitched, tiny moans of ecstacy. He suddenly felt her seize up around him, her inner walls pumping rhythmically against him, and he heard his name sing out through the clouds in his mind as she came hard. Feeling his own orgasm fast approaching, he pushed himself as hard as he could, reveling in the sound of his name from her voice in the heat of the moment.

His name. Not Potter Not Not Weasley’s. Not Krum’s. But his. Draco Malfoy’s. And with that last thought in his head, he came inside of her and then collapsed in a very unMalfoy-like manner beside her, gasping for air and covered in a thick sheen of sweat.

Hermione brought a shaky hand up to his head and combed his wet, shaggy blonde hair back out of hace.ace. His heart still thundered in his chest as he slowly caught his breath.

“You’re amazing,” he said in between ragged breaths, “you know that?”

She smiled over at him where he lay at her side. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I love you, ‘Mione,” Draco said, more under control now. “And not just for the sex– which is magnificent, by the way.”

“I know,” she replied with a smile. “I love you, too. That’s why I’m going with you.”

“I know,” he echoed, snuggling agt het her. “What time is it?” he asked, stifling a yawn.

“Quarter ‘till five,” she yawned back.

“What’s today?”

“Saturday.”

“Good.”

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So... I said there\'d be more Draco/Hermione goodness to come. I\'ve just been super busy and blank in the realm of ideas. As usual, reviews are welcome. Flames are fun. I like constructive criticism best. I do believe that there will be an addition to this but I can\'t say when. ^_^ Thank you for reading and hugs for everyone who reviews.