Keystrokes

Keystrokes

He wasn’t the type to spend more than five minutes in any library, so Hermione was especially surprised to see him sink into a chair at one of the computers located towards the far end of the room. Hogwarts had recently added a complete line of Muggle-created gadgets – called “computers” to their institution – since Muggle Studies with Professor Gates had been added to their already full curriculum. Very few of the students even knew what a computer was, but Hermione did. Her parents were both muggles, and had a similar machine at home. She spent most of her off-season from Hogs brs browsing the web for any information that she hadn’t already crammed into her impressionable brain. She peeked at him over the top of her screen, as she waited for her computer to boot up.

Years and years of playing Quidditch had blessed Draco Malfoy with the muscles that made him the envy of just about every male student at Hogwarts – with the exception of Hermione’s bes best friends. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were two handsome young men themselves – but as long as Malfoy was around, very few of their female classmates paid any attention to them. That is, of course, unless they’ve already been on a more than likely unpleasant date with Draco. God, the guy was so completely full of himself. He was handsome…incredibly so – and he knew it. He took pride in his appearance, his name, and his power.

She smirked, amused, as she watched Malfoy fiddle with the buttons on the computer. He eventually got frustrated, pulled out his wand and used a simple “illuminatus power!” spell to turn his machine on. She rolled her eyes and pulled up the Internet, along with her Instant Messenger service. It kept her somewhat connected to the Muggle-born friends she had, outside of Hogwarts. Her parents, too. Of course, her very best and closest ones were Harry and Ron.

“Damn these Muggle machines!” Malfoy sighed, hunching over his screen. “Fascinating, yet too much of a pain in the ass!”

Hermione rolled her eyes. She pulled up her buddy list, and saw that Draco had signed in as well. “DMalfoy01” was his screen name, she was well aware of it. One of her friends from Hufflepuff house had passed the information along to her. He didn’t have her screen name, which put her at ease with keeping tabs on him. It made it much easier to do so, too. And she did. For the last several weeks, she had been watching him very closely. She had a secret. She wanted him – and badly. She ho tuo turn away as he ran a hand through his white-blond hair and it fell into place with a quick shake of his head. Hell, if she were Draco Malfoy, she’d be proud, too.

He cracked his knuckles and was already typing away, no doubt, to one of his Slytherin buddies who might have been signed in at the same time. She didn’t see Crabbe and Goyle, his two “henchmen” anywhere, so she was pretty sure that the three of them were up to no good – per usual. Only throughs ans and not huddled together in the dungeons somewhere. She peeked at the librarian’s desk. Professor Lawler was out with a severe case of Greeble bites, so Minerva McGonagall had volunteered to sit and supervise the students’ usage of library materials for a portion of the day that she wasn’t teac Tra Transfiguration.

“What’re you up to today, Malfoy?” Hermione found herself typing. No, I’m not going to send this, she told herself. It wouldn’t be right, would it? I won’t send this!

She hit send. She sighed to herself, wondering just what the hell she had gotten herself into. Of course, her screen name wasn’t as obvious as his, so she was pretty sure that he’d never know it was she. His head raised sharply from his computer screen, in search of who might have sent the Instant Message. She ducked. He hadn’t seen her, but he did respond.

“Who is this?”

She snickered to herself. Oh, she could, and would have a good time with this, for sure. She typed back. “I’m your secret admirer.”

She wished she had a camera in which to capture Draco’s face turning several shades of crimson. Again, he looked around, was unable to determine who he was speaking with, and she furiously tapped away at her own computer, trying to look like the bookworm and hard worker he was so sure she was. Again, he responded.

“My secret admirer? Got a name?”

“I’ll tell you another time.” She wrote back. By now, Draco Malfoy had given up in trying to track down the culprit. He was interested. VERY interested.

“How long have you been admiring me?” He asked.

“Oh, quite long.” Hermione typed carefully. “I’m at just about every one of your Quidditch games. I’ve enjoyed them immensely.”

“Are you in Slytherin?” She should have expected for him to ask whether or not she had the potential to be as deliciously evil as he. After all, he was a firm believer in the assumption that Slytherins belonged only with other Slytherins. Both of his parents had been Hogwarts students, and in Slytherin. His on-again and off-again girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson was also in Slytherin. She wasn’t even sure Draco even liked Pansy. She was just, well…convenient. Not to mention, Ron Wey hay had confided in her that there was plenty written about her on the walls in the boys’ lavatories.

“No, I’m not.” She was honest, but she wouldn’t reveal just yet which house she belonged to. Gryffindor was a respectable house to belong to, but of course, Malfoy’s worst enemy – her best friend Harry Potter, was also associated with Gryffindor. “But with what I’m thinking right now, you might as well think so.”

“What are you thinking?” He was buying it, hook, line and sinker.

“I’m thinking I’d like to straddle your lap right now, and run my hands through your hair.” She snickered to herself, trying to hide the fact that she was blushing. She was doing a hell of a job embarrassing the shit out of him, but she was surprised that she was doing the same to herself in the process. This was stuff that she, Hermione Granger, was NOT used to doing.

Draco Malfoy, for once in his , wa, was at a complete loss for words, as well. He gulped loudly, cleared his throat and typed in a response. “Oh, yeah? What else would you like to do to me?”

“I’d like to rrrrrip open your shirt, run my hands up and down your chest, kiss your neck, your chin, your lips.”

He gulped again. His knee jerked, banging the underside of the desk. He grunted, rubbed it and winced as Professor McGonagall scowled at him for making “unnecessary noise in a school library.” Ten points would be taken from Slytherin house for Malfoy’s disregard for the rules, clearly posted on the wall behind her. “NO banging!”

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, verbally. “I…Quidditch injury, you know. Stray bludger.”

Professor McGonagall shrugged and returned to her book. Hermione, definitely enjoying herself, typed yet another message.

“Are you getting hot under the collar now, Draco?”

“Oh, yes.” He typed back. “Continue, please.”

And so she did. “Oh, Draco, I’d love to unzip your pants and cover us both with my skirt – no one would have to know what was going on underneath…”

“Hey, DRACO!” Both of them were interrupted. Hermione giggled to herself as Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bullstrode, two of Draco’s Slytherin friends, strolled into the library. The professor looked up, irritated, as the two of them approached Malfoy, who was desperately trying to hide the computer screen. She watched as he closed out the Instant Message, just as Pansy sank down into his lap. Her expression went from cool to somewhat seductive as she came to the realization that she had sat directly on top of Draco’s erection. “Oh, MY, Draco. Aren’t you a little excited to see me?”
Go aGo away.” He scowled, pushing Pansy off of his lap. “I’m busy, can’t you see that?”

“Now, now, Draco, did you forget that you were supposed to meet me an hour ago?” Pansy cooed. “You and I had plans, remember?”

“Consider them cancelled.” Draco shrugged. “I’ve got better things to do.”

“But Draco…”

“Off with you, Pansy.” He waved her away. “Go on.”

“Oooh, you Malfoys!” She stomped her foot. Professor McGonagall, who simply shook her head at them and held up ten fingers, indicative of the number of points that they were losing, deducted them from Slytherin. “Always, always thinking about yourselves and never about other people!”

“Pansy, I’ve told you once, and I’ll tell you again,” Draco addressed her through clenched teeth, “I’m busy, I’m not interested in you, and I’ve got better things to do with my time than sit around and listen to your never-ending, nonstop mouth. So off with you, before you aggravate me any more and lose Slytherin any more valuable house points!”

“Well!” She stalked off, followed by a shrugging Millicent. Draco waited until she was well out of sight before re-opening his Instant Message to Hermione. “So sorry, I was sidetracked a little bit.”

“That’s quite all right.” Hermione was pleased enough that her words had made Draco Malfoy “react.” It was something she never would have expected. “Shall I go on?”

“Please do.” He replied.

“Oh, Draco, just imagine. Plenty of candles, a warm bed with silk sheets, soft music in the background…and then there’s you, lying flat on your back. I’ll creep up on top of you, of course, and I’ll be naked…”

She peeked over at him. He was blushing madly, and at the same time, trying to contain himself. She snickered as he adjusted himself, trying to make it so that no one would notice that he was literally ready to poke out of his pants. Thankfully, there weren’t too many people in the libraryt wot would be kind of funny to have other people notice just how uncomfortable Draco Malfoy was. Not to mention, she was also getting a little hot and bothered over the mere thought of straddling him, of moving on top of him, him deep inside of her…

“Uh huh.” He nodded. “What else would you do?”

“Anything you wanted me to do, Draco.” She typed.

“Anything?” He replied.

“Yes.”

“Would you take me into your mouth?” He asked.

She thought. She had done it for Harry once while they were dated, and he had squirmed like no other she had seen before. Ron hadn’t been much for oral sex, but they’d had a wild time in his bed over at the Weasley’s, where she had visited them the previous summer. Neither relationship had been romantic for very long since they’d soon realize that they were more interested in each other’s friendship than anything else. But would she oblige, with Malfoy? Probably, yes. She’d always secretly wondered what ANY kind of sex with him would be…

“If that’s what you wanted, yes.” She typed.

“Would you let me do the same to you?” His response was.

She thought about that next. Oh, GOD, would she ever. Draco’s mouth, which almost seemed to be formed into a permanent scowl, would look ever so good in between her legs, as he used his tongue to pleasure her in ways that she couldn’t even be able to fathom.

“Yes.” She replied. “I would.”

“Won’t you tell me your name?” He wanted to know who she was, and it was killing him. She could tell. But there was no way in hell she could reveal to Draco Malfoy that she was one of the people on his hate list. For one, she was a Mudblood, or rather, a Muggle-born witch. Her parents’ idea of magic was limited to petty card tricks and occasional magicians’ shows, but they truly had NO idea of what she was capable of. For one, she was unable to use her wand outside of Hogwarts, so they would never, ever see just what Hermione could do – and she certainly hoped that they had no idea that she c be be quite the seductress as well!

“Not yet.” She responded. “How excited are you right now, Draco?”

“I’m very…”

“Horny?”

“Yes.” She saw his hand disappear underneath his robe. Oh, goodness!

“Well, what are you thinking about right now?” She typed. She waited a few pauses as he fumbled with his hand, wiped it off on the inside of his robe, and typed back.

“I’m thinking about what I’d do to you for driving me so mad.”

“What’s that, Draco?”

“I’d pick you up against the wall…” He went on, “Hike up your skirt and wrap your legs around my waist. Then I’d fuck your brains out.”

That was all he had to say to stir a reaction within Hermione. She shifted in her seat, feeling the discomfort that she’d taken pleasure in inflicting upon Draco, and typed back.

“I’d like that very much.”

“As would I.” His reply was.

She checked her watch. As much as she would have loved to sit there and chat with Draco, she would be late for Potions if she didn’t get moving. Professor Snape never hesitated to deduct points from Gryffindor house every time anyone was tardy. He was far more lenient on Malfoy and the rest of the students who were sorted into Slytherin house – but that was to be expected since Professor McGonagall, who was staring at her with a question mark on her face, was most protective of her Gryffindors. Hermione forced a smile at Professor McGonagall and turned her computer off. She stood, gathered her books, and made for the hallways.

She gasped as she turned the corner and smacked into someone. She saw the robe, complete with the patch of the Slytherin serpent, the blond hair, the smirking lips. She groaned. It was Draco Malfoy.

“Hello, Granger.” He bto pto pick up the book she had dropped. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Potions, Malfoy. Potions.” She rolled her eyes, and took the book from him. “In fact, you should be on way way there as well. Snape might be easier on you since you’ve been his pet since our first year, but he won’t have a shred of mercy on me.”

“I’m sure something can be arranged.” Draco Malfoy leaned over her, confining her to the small space between him and the wall behind her. “You see, Severus Snape and I have an understanding. Same with you and Old McGonagall. All I have to do is confirm that you and I were indeed working on our duties as Head Boy and Girl, and your absence from Potions class won’t be held against you.”

“Are you suggesting I don’t go to class?” Hermione narrowed her eyes.

“Well…” He smirked, picking up a strand of her curly brown tresses. “I’ve got a feeling that you’ve got other things on your mind than how to mix enchanting potions and whatnot.”

“What on earth makes you say that, Draco Malfoy?”

“Ah…” He raised an eyebrow, leaned forward again, and took a whiff of her hair. “Interesting scent you have there, Hermione. I’m sure it’s a favorite. Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t think that I didn’t know it was you sending those messages in the library.”

“Excuse me?” Her heart jumped.

“Oh, do you want to know what the giveaway was?”

“I don’t…I…”

“You were squirming in your seat when I made that comment about a certain…wall.” He moved closer to her, until he was pressed against her body, and she was against the brick wall behind her. She could feel that his erection was still there. He used his knees to gently part her legs, and stood between them. “You don’t do very well at hiding your feelings, Granger. Most Mudbloods don’t, though. But I’m willing to overlook that. Yoe, ye, you’ve awakened something in me, and I, you.”

“Draco…”

“Admit it, Granger.” He nodded, “It was you who sent those messages. It’s you who wants me, isn’t it?”

“I…yes.”

“Mmm.” He leaned forward and kissed her lips. She immediately felt ready to take control, grab him by the lapels, and drag him back to her room where she would have her way with him, but she controlled herself. She kissed him back, as discreetly as she could manage, yet secretly prayed that Harry or Ron wouldn’t come walking down that particular corridor in time to see her in a serious lip-lock with Draco Malfoy. He stopped kissing her, stood up straight, and straightened out his clothes. He closed his robe so that his erection wasn’t as noticeable. “So, what do you say we blow off Potions?”

“Your dungeons, or my tower?” She smiled at him.

“Let’s go.”

***Hope you enjoyed. Please review if you desire. :) My aim is to please. Thank you! - Malfoyish***