Rule Number Four, Head Student Manual

DISCLAIMER: Don’t own any of the characters. Merely borrowing them from the brilliant JK Rowling for my own perverse pleasure. Because in my world, D/Hr is possible.

AUTHOR’S NOTES: Written for the Draco/Hermione 2004 Valentine Fic Exchange: fic gift request #109
RATING(S) OF THE FIC REQUESTED: PG-13 to NC-17
3-5 Things to Include in the Fic:
1. Hermione changes her attitude and looks; becomes more bitchy,sexy,hot,seductive
2. Draco is as hot as ever; Slytherin sex god
3. Hermione is not a virgin
4. A little Hermione/Blaise Zabini (guy)
5. Hermione flirts with Harry to make Draco and Blaise jealous and it works badly.

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

From the Gryffindor table, Hermione Granger surreptitiously watched the Slytherin Quidditch Captain and Head Boy pretend to ignore her once again. It drove her crazy, this feigned apathy of his. She refused to believe he could be so callous. She refused to accept she was just one of his many conquests. She refused to concede defeat.

Two weeks previous, while patrolling a usually deserted third floor, she had come across a slightly open classroom door. As she moved to close it, she heard the unmistakable sounds of two students engaged in activities officially frowned upon by the staff. Pausing outside the door, Hermione debated whether to intrude on their encounter right then andre, re, or wait until both had exited the classroom before she deducted points. Just when she had made her decision, she heard a male voice moan, “Hermione.” Unsure of whether it was really her name she heard, and with her natural curiosity overtaking her, she pushed open the door to peer in. The sight that greeted her eyes would not have normally fazed her given one of the participant’s reputation, but she did just overhear her name being moaned by this same person. Standing with his back against the classroom wall , his pants unzipped, and one hand tangled in the girl’s hair was Draco Malfoy, Head Boy, Slytherin Quidditch Captain, and sex god two years running. In front of him, on her knees and wearing an expression of mortification and growing fury, was the Ravenclaw prefect, Lisa Turpin. Her shirt was undone and her robe lay discarded to one side. Hermione continued to watch in fascination from the doorway to see what the girl would do. She wasn’t disappointed. Lisa Turpin promptly got up, and clutching her shirt to cover her exposed chest, slapped Draco Malfoy with her free hand. Hermione almost revealed her presence as she stifled a laugh. You go, girl! she mentally cheered Turpin.

“You—you bastard!”Turpin screeched at Malfoy. “How dare you---how dare you fantasize about her!”

Hermione frowned. And what is so wrong with fantasizing about me?

“It’s all fake, you know!” Turpin continued desperately. “She’s taking the Transforma potion to look like that. She’s nothing more than the same wiry-haired boring swot we all know. But thislfoylfoy---“she ranted, indicating her chest, “---this is the real thing, and you’re rejecting them!”

From the doorway, Hermione added deducting points from Ravenclaw—and only Ravenclaw, to her To-Do list. She also reminded herself to assign Turpin to patrol Moaning Myrtle’s corridor for the next month. Hermione will need to make sure that Myrtle floods the bathrooms a few times during Turpin’s rounds. Yeah, that’ll teach her to show more respect for the Head Girl.

Draco Malfoy just stood there and coldly eyed the Ravenclaw prefect. The cheek where she had struck him was turning pink. Yet he didn’t move to do anything. “She’s more than you could ever hope to be, Miss Turpin,” he said dismissively.

Lisa Turpin didn’t want to hear anymore. She threw on her school robe and without a backward glance, stormed out of the classroom. Hermione flattened herself against the wall just as the distraught prefect exited. She didn’t take notice of the Head Girl’s presence.

As soon as she was sure Turpin had gone, she peered once again into the classroom. Malfoy had returned to leaning back against the wall. His eyes were closed and he was stroking himself. Long, elegant fingers were wrapped around his leaking cock.

Hermione’s eyes widened at the sight of him. With his reputation as the Slytherin sex god, Draco was often prominent in the fantasies of both the female and male students, and Hermione’s was no exception. It was he she often pictured as she pleasured herself in the Prefect’s bath. Lately, she had paid particular attention to the area between his legs. She had always wondered how well endowed the Head Boy was and now she knew. Hermione had only been with two boys but neither of those two compared to the magnificence that was Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was definitely larger and thicker.

Merlin, the boy was beautiful, Hermione thought. It was so unfair how one person could possess so much physical attractiveness. Hermione watched Malfoy’s fingers tighten around his hardness. He pumped himself slowly, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. He leaned his head back, and his platinum blond hair fell across his eyes. Hermione had never seen anyone so shaggable. She gazed at his slightly parted lips and imagined her tongue darting in to duel with his. She imagined her tongue licking his tip, reveling in the taste of him. She wondered if he was still thinking or asr as he increased his speed. Her knickers had become unmistakably damp. Her hand started to move towards the ache between her legs. But she thought there was a better solution.

Hermione entered the classroom and locked the door behind her. At the sound of the click, Draco Malfoy opened his eyes and looked up.

“Granger, what are you doing here?” He had stopped stroking himself, but his hand still gripped his hardness.

Old habits are hard to break, and Hermione’s gaze drifted back to Malfoy’s manhood. Hermione smirked as it twitched in his hand, as if greeting her.

She returned her gaze to the Head Boy who was now staring at her with equal interest.

“I’m responsible for patrolling this floor, Malfoy. Imagine my surprise when I happened on the Head Boy and a prefect engaged in activities clearly against school rules when they should have been carrying their duties. You and Turpin missed your patrol areas by a few floors, it seems.”

Someone who may have simply overheard this conversation would not have thought anything out of the ordinary in this exchange between the Head Boy and the Head Girl. Someone who watched the interaction would have thought differently.

As she pretended to chide Malfoy about shirking his Head Boy duties, Hermione lazily walked toward him, first shrugging off her school robe and then slowly unbuttoning her shirt.

“I really ought to report both of you to the Headmaster and take house points away, you know. Not that I need to given how Gryffindor’s ahead by three hundred points, thanks to Harry.”

At the reminder of his rival’s last Quidditch win, Draco snapped back from the fog of desire that usual engulfs him in Granger’s presence. His eyes narrowed at the Head Girl. She was now standing quite close to him, her shirt completely unbuttoned, revealing a red lace bra. Draco quirked an eyebrow at her brazenness.

“Somehow, I doubt that very much, Granger, “he drawled, trying to gain control over his arousal. “Not when it looks like you’ve got something much better in mind. “His hand left his cock and reached over to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. She caught his hand and turned her face against his palm, and proceeded to lick him, one finger at a time.

Draco watched her with lidded eyes, enjoying the feel of her hot, moist tongue as it sucked the pre-cum from his fingers.

“Oh, I do, “ she said silkily, as she brought the hand she had been licking to rest on her right breast. Draco didn’t need any further incentive to begin kneading her through her bra. Finding this wanting, his fingers slipped underneath the lace and his thumb slowly stroked her already hardened nipple. “Mmmm, much better. Malfoy, care to remind me what the fourth rule in the Head Student Manual says?”

“Granger, right now, the furthest thing from my mind is that damn manual. Does your commitment to the school rules have to be so pervasive as to intrude on moment like this?” he asked in a petulant voice. His other hand slowly made its way up her thigh, caressing her in feather light strokes.

“Rule number four in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Manual for Head Students states, “ Hermione persisted, “ that’ In the event a school prefect is unable to carry out an assigned duty, it is the responsibility of the Head Student to determine where the shortcoming is, and to carry out said duty until the prefect has received proper training.’” With that, Hermione closed her fingers around Draco’s hardness. She was rewarded with a strangled gasp from him. He really was bigger than her previous lovers. Her fingers were barely able to encircle him.

“Granger, I can’t imagine you trying to seduce me by quoting rulebooks. Have you got a point, or ----“

“Shut up, Malfoy. I’m merely informing you that I’m here to finish what Turpin started, “ she nonchalantly informed the Head Boy, as she slipped down to her knees in front of him.

It took every ounce of control for Draco to keep himself from coming right then and there as her lips took in his aching cock. Slowly, she ran her tongue on the underside of him and slowly made her way up to his leaking tip. She stroked his shaft slowly as she proceededsucksuck the tip, grazing it with her teeth. Her other hand roamed languidly on his muscled abs, caressing the white blonde curls around his manhood, working slowly down and cupping his balls.

Draco couldn’t believe it. For months now, he had been dreaming about this. Dreaming about Hermione Granger’s pouty lips around his cock, the same lips that never failed to issue a counter-argument to his sarcastic comments. He had been bored with his conquests of late. The only reason he was having Turpin “service” him tonight was because she had curly brown hair and in the dim classroom light, he could pretend she was Hermione. As Hermione’s head bobbed up and down on him, Draco Malfoy thanked the Fates for their intervention. Had Lisa Turpin agreed to their tryst in the Slytherin dungeons, Hermione would not have caught them and shuld uld not have had the opportunity to follow rule number four.

Draco could feel his release coming but he didn’t want it to end yet. Grabbing Hermione by her arms, he hauled her up and switched their positions so that she was now backed up against the wall. He made quick work of her bra and her shirt, as she practically ripped his shirt off. He reached between her legs and found that she was wet and ready for him. He slipped a finger, and then two into her moist core, fingerfuc her her as her moans of pleasure increased. One hand gripped his shoulder while the other continued to stroke his cock faster.

“Malfoy, please…”

“It’s Draco. Say my name, Hermione. “

“Fuck me, Draco, fuck me hard, “ she pleaded. She hooked one thigh around his waist, bringing the tip of his aching cock to the entrance of her damp slit.

Draco didn’t need further urging. He thrust into her eagerly. She was so wet. She was so tight. The feeling her muscles clamped around his cock made him even harder.

“Oh, Draco, faster…”

He complied, pounding into her feverishly as she moaned his name over and over again. He had an iron grip on her hips. He nipped her earlobe, her neck, her collarbone, her hardened nipples. Finally, he reached between them and stroked her clit with his thumb. It was all she needed. She grabbed his bum for leverage as she screamed out her orgasm. As her muscles tightened, Draco couldn’t help keep his own release at bay. A strangled, “Hermione” escaped his lips as he spilled his seed inside her.

Some moments later, after their breaths had returned to normal, he held her face in his hands and grey eyes bored into brown. “You really do take your Head Girl duty too seriously.”

Her only reply was to laugh.

They straightened their clothes, each preoccupied with their own thoughts. There would be no post-coital cuddling or spoken promises of future meetings. She left him in the classroom without so much a thank you.

Since that fateful night, Hermione had not been alone with the Head Boy. Not that she particularly sought him out. They saw each other plenty around Hogwarts, as they shared all of the Advanced classes. They maintained a business-like interaction during the weekly Prefects’ meetings.

For the last two weeks, she observed him in frustrated silence, a plan forming in her head. By Merlin she was going to get Draco Malfoy back in her bed, if it was the last thing she did as Head Girl.

****
From his seat of power at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy observed the Head Girl pick at her breakfast. She seemed more preoccupied than usual. For the past two weeks, he had been watching her more closely than he had in the past. It wasn’t so much the fact that she had come back changed after the Christmas holidays. No, Draco Malfoy noticed her way before that.

And how could he not? She had bested him in most of their classes, except Potions. No matter how many tutors he’d had or how much he prepared for his classes in advance, almoalmost always outscored him. She wasn’t afraid of him. She had become so adept at ignoring his taunts that he stopped calling her “Mudblood” in sixth year because it failed to get a reaction from her. She tended to see beyond his many facades, beginning in second year when she accused him of buying his way into the Quidditch team. Draco Malfoy would never admit that over the next four years, he worked twice as much on Quidditch just to prove Hermione Granger wrong. The slap she rendered him third year still stung his pride. No witch had ever laid a hand on him in violence, not even his mother. And to think she did it defending someone else only made the incident harder to forget. Her temporary transformation for the fourth year Yule Ball made Draco wish his father had sent him to Durmstrang and perhaps he would have been the one to escort her to the ball, not the overrated Bulgarian seeker. Instead, he was stuck escorting Pansy Parkinson and even worse, stuck Hog Hogwarts inter-house rivalries that made it impossible for him to be with the girl he wanted. He was ecstatic to learn that they had both been made prefects during fifth year, and when he noticed that she began disappearing for pockets of time, along with several students, he proposed forming an Inquisitorial Squad to the new Headmistress. Things ended badly with Hermione apparently playing an active role in ending Umbridge’s Hogwarts career and sending Lucius Malfoy and his cronies to Azkaban. Despite the drastic changes in Draco Malfoy’s life as a result of this, he couldn’t help but marvel that Hermione Granger should have been in Slytherin for her cunning. Her brief relationship with Blaise Zabini during the first half of seventh year drew unwanted attention to her from Slytherin House. With the history of acrimonious rivalry between the two houses, a Gryffindor-Slytherin romance was always suspect. The negative attention on Hermione fros hos housemates only subsided when Zabini abruptly broke off the relationship. Not many were surprised and few snidely remarked that it was doomed from the start anyway. Soon, attention drew away from Hermione Granger as the rest of Slytherin House focused on other titillating affairs. But Draco Malfoy continued to watch her. No, it was quite hard to ignore Hermione Granger. And while Draco Malfoy had noticed Hermione Granger as a desirable witch a long time before the rest of the Hogwarts male population, the rest of the pack did follow suit soon after.

Hermione Granger came back from spending the Christmas holidays with her Muggle parents a changed person. The changes weren’t subtle either, and soon had many a male and a few females leering at the Head Girl. Her normally bushy hair was sleek and straight. Her school skirts were shorter than they had been before but not too short as to elicit a reprimand from the staff. Her jumpers seemed tighter. She had taken to wearing her school robes unfastened, so that she gave everyone a peek into her ample bosom whenever she bent down. Watching the Head Girl bent over her homework in the library had become a sort of sport for younger male students.

The Hermione Granger who returned from her Muggle Christmas holidays strode through the main doors with confidence and an air of nonchalance. She greeted her gaping best friends warmly but was tightlipped when asked about the changes in her appearance. They didn’t pursue the matter, relieved perhaps that she seemed to have found a way to channel the disappointment she had after the break up with Blaise Zabini. To Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, this newly improved Hermione was better than the mildly depressed witch that skulked around before the holidays. To Draco Malfoy, the newly improved Hermione only meant that his resolution to once and for all ignore her the rest of their seventh year was going to be broken. She was as fascinating to him as ever.

His thoughts drifted to that nitwo two weeks ago. Draco Malfoy acquired his reputation as a sex god in his sixth year. Heritage, wealth and social status made him desirable, and his physical attributes ensured he’d never be in want of sex partner. His once pointy face had grown to more chiseled features. Generations of Purebloods contributed to his porcelain skin and the flawless complexion devoid of the usual teenage acne. He was tall for his age. The relentless Quidditch practice broadened his shoulders and added muscles to his once skinny frame.

During his sixth year (what he often referred to as his “sex year”), Draco Malfoy slept with most of the girls in Slytherin and Ravenclaw, fourth year and above. He would never degrade himself to sleeping with a Hufflepuff and Gryffindors were out of the question. He never had to pursue a girl; they came to him willingly. It’s a wonder how he was able to maintain his academic grades (second only to Granger) and his Quidditch skills (though he never won against Potter) with his nightly extra-curricular activities. Had Draco Malfoy paused to reflect on his motive for his behavior, he might have been surprised to discover that his sexual dalliances with various female students began around the same time that Hermione Granger dated Ron Weasley. But Draco Malfoy was not given to self-reflection and a teenage boy of his age was rightly focused on enjoying what others could only wish they also had. When Weasley GranGranger broke up, he thought to make a move on her, but hesitated because he did not want to be perceived as pursuing Weasley’s leavings. Ultimately, he was beaten to it by Zabini. Unlike Draco Malfoy, Zabini had no history of hostility with the Golden Trio. Although it was still surprising for a Gryffindor and a Slytherin to get together, if a pairing had to happen, it would have been Hermione Granger, champion of the underdog and staunch proponent of inter-house relations, and Blaise Zabini, who had the uncanny ability to blend in the background and stay neutral. Soon after the Zabini-Granger affair commenced, Draco Malfoy added Gryffindors to his list of conquests, beginning with Lavender Brown.

Midway through his seventh year, Draco Malfoy had sampled most of the girls at Hogwarts. Except Granger. Until that fateful night.

The jumble of emotions he experienced long after she had left him confused him. He never felt unsated after sex, no matter how inexperienced or inept his partner was. But Granger left him desiring more. He knew that he was never going to be satisfied with just that one tryst. And that desire left him feeling he’d lost control of the situation. How could he let her do that to him? His initial solution was to ignore what happened. Around her, during their shared classes and Head duties, he pretended as if nothing happened between them. He needed the time to figure things out.

***

The flapping of dozens of owl wings brought the Head Students out of their reverie.

Hermione Granger looked up at the Slytherin table once again and this time, caught Draco Malfoy’s eye. He flashed her his traditional smirk, and then licked his lips for good measure. Her throat suddenly went dry. Merlin, the boy was too sexy for his own good. She felt her knickers grow damp. Sitting at the head of the Slytherin table, he was in every detail the ruler of his House. Not even Snape could wield as much influence over his housemates as Draco Malfoy could just by his mere presence. And herehere was something other than intellect that turned Hermione on, it was power. Tearing her gaze away from him, Hermione reminded herself that she needed to stick to her plan.

It being Valentine’s Day, there was three times the usual number of owls delivering packages that morning. Errol, miraculously still alive, dropped a small package in front of Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny. Treacle fudge Valentine cookies from Mrs. Weasley. Hermione also received a Valentine greeting card from Ron. It was quite standard and devoid of any romantic expressions, as it should be. Ron and Luna Lovegood had been dating since mid-way through sixth year, and while Luna was one to always look at things in a different light, she was also wont to fits of jealousy concerning “her Ronald” and Hermione. When they dated, Ron and Hermione were each other’s first sexual partner, a fact that Ron couldn’t keep from Luna, even if he wanted to (after all, she wasn’t the daughter of the editor of Wizarding England’s famous tabloid for nothing).

There was no Valentine card from Blaise. Hermione thought that she would have been disappointed at this; instead, all she felt was irritation. She and Blaise dated briefly during the first half of seventh year. She thought that things were going along well until he abruptly broke it off, without giving her any solid reasons. She had been heartbroken at first, feeling overwhelmingly rejected by the male population of Hogwarts. When she and Ron broke up in sixth year, it had been mutual. Their relationship had evolved from friendship to a sexual one and then devolved back to friendship again. They both agreed that they were better off as friends and they probably would be happier with other people.
When Ron began to date Luna, Hermione didn’t feel any pangs of jealousy and she knew they had made the right decision in ending their attempt at romance.

The overwhelming feeling of rejection Hermione felt after the break up with Blaise prompted her to make some changes in her life. Over the Christmas holidays, Hermione had her hair straightened and using money she received as gifts from relatives, overhauled her wardrobe. The first thing she did when she returned to Hogwarts was to shorten her skirts and tighten her jumpers using magic. Turpin was sadly mistaken when if she thought Hermione’s changes were dependent on a Potion. Honestly, how did the girl ever become a prefect? Hermione’s new look made her feel better about herself and it in turn translated to the way she carried herself. She’d regained her confidence and projected an aura of aloofness. She was not going to let anything, or anyone, distract her from school again.

A tawny school owl dropped a big bouquet of red tulips in front of Hermione.

“Who’s that from, Hermione?” Ron asked through a mouthful of food. He looked over at Hermione who was reading the notecard with a dreamy expression on her face.

“Oh, Harry!” she exclaimed, loud enough for the entire Great Hall to hear. She jumped from her seat and into Harry Potter’s lap. “This is the sweetest, most romantic Valentine’s greeting I’ve ever gotten! Of course, I’d love to be your girlfriend!” And with that, the Hogwarts Head Girl threw her arm around the Boy-Who-Lived’s neck and pressed her mouth against his gaping one.

Everyone at the Gryffindor table stared agape at the pair. For a full minute, there was silence. Then followed by a dozen voices asking each other the same question:

When did Hermione Granger and Harry Potter get together?

Amid the cacophony of confused voices, Ginny Weasley was hitting her brother on the back after he choked on his pumpkin juice.

At the Slytherin table, three pairs of eyes watched the events at the Gryffindor table unfold with interest.

***

This was certainly not the Valentine’s Day morning Harry Potter had envisioned. He had been preoccupied with thoughts of a certain witch, a fellow prefect he had wanted to ask out for a long time. But the years of trying to stay alive and saving the world from Voldemort hadn’t exactly honed the Boy Who Lived’s skills in the romance department.

Harry Potter remained awkward when it came to witches he fancied. He decided that the best way to make his feelings known was through a Valentine’s day card. He would send her se ase and a note asking to go with him on the next Hogsmeade weekend. It was because had been intently watching the object of his affection open the Valentine greeting that Harry Potter wasn’t paying attention to anything else going on at the Gryffindor table. Until his best friend jumped on his lap and proceeded to snog him in front of everyone. Everyone, including her.

Oh, bloody hell no. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She was supposed to read his Valentine greeting, smile sweetly across the Great Hall from him, and then speak to him after breakfast about going to Hogsmeade with him. She wasn’t supposed to look up from his Valentine greeting to see him in a liplock with his best friend.

Hermione, for her part, was all over Harry. Finding that he hadn’t responded to her kisses, she was just beginning to nibble his lower lip when she felt him firmly remove her arms from his neck.

Furious emerald eyes met brown, and for the first time since the inception of her plan, Hermione thought she may have overdone it. She removed herself from Harry’s lap, and just in time too. He abruptly stood, hauling her up with him, and unceremoniously dragging her from the Great Hall. Ron also got up from his seat and hurriedly ran after them.

When he was sure they were far enough from the Great Hall to be overheard, Harry rounded on Hermione.

“WHAT IN BLOODY HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?”

“Harry, listen, I can explain…”

“You bloody better well have a good explanation for what you did, because you just ruined my Valentine’s day!” He was practically screeching at her.

If Hermione hadn’t felt so guilty, she would have laughed at his expression.

“Would either one of you please explain to me what the hell is going on between you two?” asked Ron, who had finally caught up with the pair.

“Nothing is going on, Ron,” said Hermione quietly. “We’re just friends.”

“Soon-to-be-ex-friends if she doesn’t start explaining herself soon, “ added Harry dramatically.

“If you’re just friends, then why’d you send her a bouquet of tulips? Those are her favorite, you know, and on Valentine’s Day, too!”

“What tulips? I didn’t send her---“

“I sent them, “said Hermione.

“What?!” asked Harry and Ron in unison. They stared at her incredulously.

“Look, I sent them, alright. I sent them to myself. I was trying to make someone jealous. Actually two someones…”

“Explain.”

She sighed, not looking at either of them. “I concocted a plan to get someone to speak to me and it’s just backfired. “

She finally looked up at her two best friends, one furious and the other curious, and seeing no other reaction, continued,
“I didn’t plan on involving either one of you, honestly. Especially you, Ron, on account of Luna. But this morning, when the owl delivered the flowers, I knew it wouldn’t be eh anh and I had to do something, something drastic in addition to the flowers, in order to get a reaction out of this guy. Of course, Ron would have been the logical choice given our history, but I knew he would never forgive me if I did something like that in front of Luna.”

“And I suppose I made sense because I’ve never had a girlfriend, and you figured there’d be no collateral damage in snogging me in front of everyone, right?”

“Um, yeah. You just about summed it up.” Hermione’s guilt was fast dissipating to give way to irritation over her best friend’s dramatics.

“Well, thanks a lot to your stunt, Hermione, I may never have a girlfriend for the rest of my time here.” He moved to walk away.

“Harry, wait…”

“Hermione, right now, I’m very pissed at you. I don’t think I should talk to you until after I’ve fixed the mess you’ve placed me in. “ With that, he stalked off.

“What’s he mean by that? “she asked Ron.

“Dunno. I’ve been spending so much time with Luna lately, I have no idea what is going on with him. Based on what he’s said though, I think he might like someone and your snogging him in front of everyone may have ruined it.” Even Ron was amazed at his own perception.

“Who do you think it is? Oh, Ron, will you find out for me? I really want to make this up to him.”

“Look, I’ll see what I can do, okay? Meanwhile, I’d put any of your other scheming on hold for now, before you create an even bigger mess.”

***
Draco Malfoy was furious.

All those years of losing the snitch to Potter was nothing compared to seeing his rival snog the girl he wanted. What particularly galled him was that she seemed over the moon about it. You missed the boat again, Malfoy, he thought bitterly. You shouldn’t have waited it out. Seeing Scarhead and Granger hurriedly exit the Great Hall, presumably to snog somewhere more private, only compounded his annoyance.

His dark mood continued all day, exacerbated by his overactive imagination that pictured Scarhead and Granger in various sexual positions throughout Hogwarts. A few laps around the Quidditch pitch to clear his mind didn’t work. He returned to the Slytherin dungeons in an ever darker mood. His housemates seemed to sense this, and they left him alone. Draco sat morosely in front of the fire, staring at nothing. He wished he didn’t have patrol duties that night, or he would have just gone straight to bed. As it was, he had to stay awake a few more hours, all worked up over the Head Girl.

At times like these, he knew one solution that always eased his tension. He looked around the common room, his eyes resting on Amanda Flint. Draco had had one or two sexual encounters with her in the past. A fourth year, the girl was well on her way to getting crowned the Slytherin slut. She had slept with practically all of her housemates in fourth year and half of fifth year. Normally, Draco would not have considered sleepigaingain with such a slag, but as there was no better alternative at this point, he was resigned to having her. He needed to wile away a couple of hours before his scheduled patrol and he needed a release to his tension. Truth be told, he hadn’t had anyone since Granger two weeks ago. He felt no desire for anyone else other than her. It was the longee’d e’d gone since fifth year. Realizing this only made him even more furious at himself for letting Potter take her away.

Amanda looked up to see the Head Boy looking at her. With a slight nod, he motioned her in the direction of his room. She knew what he meant. Amanda Flint was ambitious and knew that fucking the Head Boy was a surefire way gain some influence within the House. If she played her cards right, and Draco Malfoy came back for more, she’d be assured a higher place in the Slytherin hierarchy than her brother. She got up and made her way across the room towards Draco. A good Slytherin never makes Draco Malfoy wait.

They were halfway towards the Head Boy room when the main dungeon door opened to admit the Head Girl. Hermione Granger looked distressed. She scanned the common room and on seeing Draco, began to make her way towards him.

Draco watched Hermione approach him. He felt himself get harder and was thankful for the school robes that concealed it. “What do you want, Granger?”

“Malfoy. May I speak to you in private for a minute?” she asked indicating Amanda who was clutching his arm possessively. Draco had forgotten all about her.

“Miss Flint, would you please excuse us? Seems we’ve got some Head duties to discuss.”
Amanda Flint knew that she wouldn’t be sleeping with Draco Malfoy that night, or anytime soon for that matter.

As soon as they were relatively alone, Hermione turned to Draco, “Listen, Malfoy, I need a favor. Could we possibly switch patrol duties tonight? I’m scheduled to start in half an hour, but there are some things I really need to sort out tonight and they can’t wait. If you take my scheduled patrol duties, I’ll be able to take on yours in three hours.”

“ A favor, hmm? And what, Granger, would I get in return if I agree to the switch?”

She leaned in to him, cupped his hardened cock through his straining pants, and purred in his ear, “We both know what you want, Malfoy. I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Draco’s eyes darkened with lust. He managed to strangle out, “Fine. I’ll meet you at the seventh floor corridor, outside the Advanced Arithmancy classroom, in three hours. “

“Thanks, Draco, “ she said softly as she nipped his earlobe. It took every ounce of Draco’s control not to drag her into his room and fuck her senseless.

Hermione stepped away from him. Turning to scan the common room oncain,ain, she asked, “Now, can you tell me where I might find Parkinson?”

***
Three hours into patrolling the halls of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy had seen neither hair nor hide of Hermione Granger. He waited outside the designated Arithmancy classroom, but she didn’t show. He waited a half hour. Still no Hermione. Annoyed, made his way down one floor to look for her. He looked out one of the windows and his eyes widened. Leaninginstinst a tree were two students clearly breaking curfew. The identity of one was apparent, for it figured prominently in Draco’s dark moods: Harry Potter. Scarhead, as Draco preferred to call him, had his back to the castle. The girl he was with had her arms wrapped around him, caressing his back. Though Scarhead obscured her, Draco knew who it was based on the day’s events.

He was livid. How dare she pawn off her patrol duties on him just to snog Potter! He was even more furious with himself for allowing her to manipulate him!

Storming out of the castle, the Head Boy stalked angrily toward the couple. He imagined that the number of points he was going to deduct from Gryffindor would void Scarhead’s last Quidditch win, and the thought made him feel slightly better. The pair was so engrossed with one another that they didn’t hear him approach until he drawled,
“Breaking school rules again, Granger? I ought to report this to the Headmaster, you know.”

Only it wasn’t Granger with Potter. It was Pansy.

***

When the Head Boy and two prefects re-entered the castle a short time later, they were greeted at the steps by an annoyed looking Head Girl.

“Where have you been?”

“To whom are you exactly directing the question, Hermione?”

“You, of course, you prat! I don’t care where these two were. You and I, on the other hand, were supposed to meet outside the Arithmancy classroom to switch off—“

“Yes, and you weren’t there at the designated time. So, I went searching for you and found these two instead.”

“Either you two quit acting like neither of us are in the same room or we’re leaving, “ threatened Potter. Beside him, Pansy nodded in agreement.

Neither the Head Boy nor the Head Girl paid him any mind, as they continued to glare at each other. Knowing that this was going to escalate into another Granger-Malfoy yelling match, Harry Potter and Pansy Parkinson decided to leave right then. Neither Hermione nor Draco noticed.

“Well, EXCUSE ME for prioritizing my duties. There are more important things than patrolling the stupid hallways, you know!” Hermione screeched. Her temper was rising. It had been an emotional roller coaster of a day for her, beginning with her ill-conceived plans to get Draco jealous. She then found out from Ron, who managed to get the information out from Harry, that Harry fancied Pansy Parkinson. To make up to Harry for having involved him in her schemes, she had to speak with and cajole Parkinson into believing that what she witnessed in the Great Hall at breakfast between Hermione and Harry meant nothing and that it was she Harry liked, and not Hermione. It took a while to convince the Slytherin, given the person who was trying to convince her. From the look of things, though, Harry and Parkinson had managed to look beyond this morning’s catastrophic events. Then, just when she thought she had managed to salvage the day, Hermione Granger had bumped into Blaise Zabini on her way to meeting Malfoy to switch off for their patrol.

“Looks like you’ve managed to move on to Potter, Granger, “he commented to her bitterly as they passed each other in the hallway.

Hermione, who had been purposefully walking towards the seventh floor, paused and regarded Blaise evenly. Since he abruptly broke it off with her, they had not shared so much as a perfunctory greeting outside of the Prefect meetings. In fact, this was the first time since the break up that he initiated conversation with her. Hermione crossed her arms and turned to him, “What do you care, Zabini? You yourself couldn’t seem to get rid of me fast enough.”

“Oh I care a lot, Hermione. I care about you more than you’ll ever know.” She was surprised at how his voice had softened from its initial edginess.

“Enough to break up with me for no apparent reason?” she asked sarcastically.

“Enough to recognize that I was not the one who could ultimately make you happy,” he said simply. Then, in an undertone, he added, “Malfoy made sure I realized that early on.”

But she had heard him. “Malfoy?! And how, pray tell, did that ferret convince you that you couldn’t make me happy? And how did he figure into our relationship?”

“Look, Hermione, you’re going to have speak to him about this. I can’t really tell you anything more than I already have. I’m sorry for not giving you a reason earlier. I’m sorry for upsetting you. But I did I h I had to do.”

And for the first time since she had known Blaise Zabini, Hermione saw him for what he was: a gutless teenager unwilling to fight for her. She was saddened with this discovery, but also relieved.

“Malfoy will definitely be hearing from me about this. Goodbye, Blaise.” She didn’t wait for his response as she stalked off, determined to find the Head Boy.

And now she stood glaring at the reason for her flared temper.

“And what could be more important than meeting me, Miss Granger, “he asked, goading her.

“Making things up to my best friend, for one. And discovering that you, you two-faced manipulative ferret, were behind the break up of my last relationship!” She jabbed her finger against his chest to emphasize her point.

She had gotten in his face during her rant, and the proximity of her lips to his flared Draco’s arousal once more. He wanted nothing more than to kiss those angry lips, but he knew he had to make her understand first.

“Granger, Zabini is an idiot. How he made prefect I’ll never know. I suspect he wouldn’t have been made one if I hadn’t made Head Boy. He only went out with you because you were Head Girl and he thought it would accord him certain privileges in addition to his being a prefect. He wouldn’t have made you happy, Hermione.”

This revelation stung. It brought back memories of feeling rejected and undeble.ble. Without meaning to, especially not in front of Draco Malfoy, Hermione burst into tears. The day’s events had taken their toll and this information was the last straw. Why can’t boys see her as girlfriend material? Was she so undesirable that the only long-term relationship she’d had was with her best friend? That the last boyfriend she had turned out to be using her?

“You are not undesirable, Hermione. In fact, you are the most desirable witch I know. And if you t stt step away now, I can’t promise I’ll be able to just let you go with a simple good-night.”

She hadn’t realized that she had ranted out loud or that Malfoy held her in his arms. Surprisingly, it was quite comforting to be held by him. Their bodies fit perfectly together. She looked up at him and said simply, “ A simple good-night will not be enough for me, Draco.”

He kissed her then, for the first time. He realized that during their encounter two weeks ago, they hadn’t kissed even once. So he went slowly, kissing her with utmost tenderness, tasting her sweet mouth. Soon enough their tongues were dueling for control. Hands followed soon after, exploring each other, desperately trying to rid themselves of their robes, unbuttoning shirts, and---

“Draco, wait…” Hermione tried to take a step back.

“What, love, …”he asked distractedly, laying a trail of kisses from her ear and down her neck.

“Draco, let’s move this someplace else. You don’t want Filch to interrupt us, do you?”

Since Gryffindor Tower was closest, Hermione led them to the Head Girl room. Once again she was thankful for having her own private quarters.

Once inside her room, they continued to kiss even as they hurriedly undressed each other. Shirts were torn and buttons flew as they couldn’t wait to feel the other’s skin against theirs. Draco lifted Hermione by her bum and carried her towards her bed, her legs securely wrapped around his waist. Gently, he laid her down on the bed with her legs hanging on the edge. He crushed his lips with hers, sucking on her tongue as it darted out to taste his. Then, he slowly made his way lower, kissier jer jaw, her neck, her collarbone and the area between her breasts before he captured one hardened nipple in his mouth. One hand played with the other nipple, kneading and pinching, while the other made its way toward the apex of her thighs. He felt her wetness as he began to stroke her swollen clit. Hermione bucked against him when Draco brought his mouth to her wet folds. His tongue darted out to taste her, licking the honey of her arousal. Hermione was moaning his name. Draco inserted a finger into her as he sucked on her clit, and that caused her to tighten around him.

“Draco, please, I want you inside me, “ she begged.

He slithered his way up her body, bringing one of her legs to rest on his shoulder. He couldn’t wait any longer, so he thrust into her, burying himself deep in her hot moist core.

“Harder, Draco, fuck me harder!” she urged and he was powerless to refuse. He drove his throbbing cock into her, feverish with want. He pounded into her so hard that he had brought their bodies to the edge of the bed and were in danger of falling off. Still he couldn’t get enough of her. She was so tight and so wet. He turned her over on her stomach and proceeded to fuck her from behind. It seemed this was Hermione’s preferred fucking position as she screamed his name in orgasm soon after. He felt her tightening around him, spurring him to find his own release. After a few more fevered thrusts, he did. He turned her over to lay on her back as he repositioned himself on top of her. Her face was flushed, her lips were swollen, and her hair was beginning to frizz and cling to her forehead, but he had never seen anything more beautiful. He told her so. She kissed him gently, tasting herself on his mouth. He pulled her to him as he laid back on the bed.

“Draco…”

“Hmmm…?”

“I hope you’re not doing this to follow rule number four.”

He propped himself u an an elbow and looked at her puzzled.

“You know, rule number four in the Head Student Manual: ‘In the event a school prefect is unable to carry out an assigned duty, it is the responsibility of the Head Student to determine where the shortcoming is, and to carry out said duty until the prefect has received proper training.’”

He kissed her nose. “Granger, I have no intention of ever giving proper training to Zabini, or any other prefects with regards to shagging you.”

“Oh, good, “she said sleepily, “I guess you’ll just have to carry out this duty yourself, then.”

Fin