Collide

Title: Collide
Author: ashleyfanfic
Rating: R
Author\'s Note: Thanks to Zephyr for betaing this for me. The title came from the Howie Day song \"Collide\". The fic isn’t inspired by the song, but I was listening to it while I was writing and I liked the idea of Draco/Hermione colliding into one another.
Summary: Draco gets a bit of stress relief...
Disclaimer: The characters held within are not mine but belong to warner brothers and jk rowling. I\'m only playing with them for a few minutes and will give them back virtually unharmed. There is also no profit being made off of this, so please don\'t sue.

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Draco stalked through the castle. He hated it. He hated the people, and everything they stood for. He was convinced that the main goal of everyone was to break his spirit, to make him admit defeat. He refused. Malfoy’s did not give in to intimidation. They stood against adversity and came out on top. They did what they had to do to further their own gain. They didn’t let a ponce like Harry Potter bring them down or best them. They didn’t allow for Weasleys to come out on top. It was unheard of for a Malfoy to be out maneuvered. He refused to be bested by two lowly creatures.

He muttered the password to his private room. Being Head Boy gave him certain allocations, such as his own room. Granted he had to share the common room with the Head Girl, but there could have been worse things. Potter could have beaten him for the position or Weasley or any other inane person the Headmaster could have picked over him. Luckily for him, Snape and his own grades had other things to say about it. Potter had been more of a troublemaker than some people would have liked and Weasley’s grades were appalling compared to his. Draco was the better candidate and there was nothing that could be said about it. He was a stellar student. Other than the unfortunate incident in his fifth year with Umbridge’s Inquisitional Squad, there was nothing academically that could be said badly about him. He’d made a rash decision but realized the error in his ways. He thought that was what he remembered Snape saying.

He removed his robe as he entered his bedroom, the candles on the walls lighting dimly as he walked to the other side of the room and undid the cufflinks. He set them into the black velvet box where he kept them. The cufflinks were a family heirloom that his mother had given to him as a birthday present when he turned sixteen. He took great care in his things. He never let anything out of his sight for a moment, afraid to trust anyone.

He turned to the bed and smirked at the sight that met him. If someone had told him a year ago that he would be looking at Hermione Granger sleeping in his bed in one of his shirts, he would have laughed at them and called them a fool. She knew when she took up with him what she was getting herself into. She knew he wasn’t a nice person. She knew that he didn’t like muggles and wouldn’t associate with one unless there was no other option. Even then he was sure he could find a way to negotiate out of it. She was everything he hated and everything he wanted. He hated her hair, but he could think of nothing better than grasping handfuls of it as she sucked his cock. He hated how plain her brown eyes were, but loved seeing them turn almost black when he was fucking her. There was nothing better than an aroused Granger and nothing worse than the Granger that liked to lecture and talk a lot. He wasn’t much for talking. It was when she was talking that he thought of deliciously wicked things that her mouth could be doing instead.

It was rather confusing what had happened. He wasn’t sure himself how she had come to be his lover. The first time could probably be chalked up to sexual frustration finally beating them both down. They may have hated one another, but there was no denying that he wanted her and she wanted him. She had been a willing lover; agreeable to almost anything his demented mind could think of. True, she hadn’t been a virgin when he’d had her for the first time, but she was still meek. Meek until she realized that he had to have her more than once. His appetite for her was far too great to be fulfilled just by one time. So, it was in Snape’s cupboard that they struck up a deal. A sex pact, if you would, agreeing that whenever the other needed a release they would be willing. No emotions, no complications; he was very shocked she agreed. It seemed out of the ordinary for the prim and proper Hermione Granger to agree to such a deviant thing. He loved it. He took great pleasure in knowing that she was bossy in every other aspect, dominating nearly everyone in that overbearing way of hers, but in the bedroom, in his bedroom she was submissive, allowing him the control.

He supposed that a person had to get tired of being in control all the time. He didn’t; but then he needed power to feel like he was besting someone one at something. That was his reasons for joining the Inquisitional Squad. Potter had out thought him, escaped his every attempt to get him into trouble, and it was his thinking that he would finally have the power to get rid of him and his goody-two shoed little friends. It backfired. Umbridge was never able to deliver any of the things she promised. Cow, he thought sourly. But this, he smiled, watching her in her sleep, one hand tucked beneath her chin, her knees bent as she slept on her side facing him, he had this over Potter. She was in his bed, in his shirt, and there was nothing Potter could do about it. And once he found out that Hermione was going to have his child, the smile on his face turned into an almost evil grin at the thought of Potter and Weasley choking on their own tongues. It would be the sweetest victory of all.

He removed his shoes and socks, followed by his shirt and pants leaving him in nothing but the silver boxers with black hearts on them, something Hermione thought was amusing when she first saw them, and slipped into the bed beside her. He brushed her unruly hair out of the way, finding that it often felt softer than it looked, much like Hermione herself. She seemed like she would be uptight all the time, but he knew better. He knew her inside and out, and knew that she was wild and unpredictable in only one place, and he smiled knowing that he was the one who was able to see her in such a way. He moved her hand from beneath her chin, receiving a pout from her. She was asleep and still bossy. She rolled onto her back and went back to sleep.

This didn’t sit well with him. He didn’t want her to sleep. He wanted her awake and willing to let him fuck her. He’d had a hell of a day. He needed Hermione to push it all away. He needed to be inside of her and push every insult Potter had sent his way out of his head. He needed to fuck her to get back at Weasley. She seemed to know he did this. She never said anything when he was in a mood. It was only a few short weeks ago that he had come in, after almost getting into a fistfight with the terrible twosome, and she had said nothing. She moved to him where he was sulking on the sofa, removed her panties from beneath her skirt and straddled him. That was all he needed. She was good at relieving his stress. She was good at just about everything.

He undid the buttons of the shirt she was wearing. He didn’t want her to take it off, a part of him getting off on the fact that she was wearing his shirt, but he did want access to her breasts that were becoming fuller with her pregnancy. It still shocked him that she was pregnant. She was pregnant and it was his. He’d never before given thought to being a father, the idea seeming far-fetched and in the very distant future. Apparently, fate had other plans. When she walked in, looking almost green, she’d blurted it out. His first reaction was utter denial. He couldn’t be a father. He was only eighteen. He’d given this voice, and that started a fight.

He could remember it vividly. He asked her what she was going to do about it, which only earned him another fight. It wasn’t long before he realized that voicing his fears to a pregnant woman was a bad idea. No matter what he was scared of, she had more cause for worry.

He often wondered why she was keeping it but knew she couldn’t abort it anymore than he really wanted her to. He thought about how powerful this child could be. He also realized that this was the ultimate revenge at Potter for being better than him at everything. He may have been the Boy-Who-Lived, but Draco was now The-Boy-Who-Got-The-Boy-Who-Lived’s-Soulmate-Pregnant. That had a nice ring to it, if he did say so himself. She was his, now. She was bound to him forever, through a child. As a possessive person, this appealed to him greatly.

His hands finally finished with the buttons and one hand moved the shirt aside as the other made its way over the swell of her belly. It was barely noticeable except to someone who regularly saw her naked. She was four months along, and was telling her friends in the morning. He wished he could be there. He wished he could see their faces when she laid the news of the century in their laps. It would be sweet revenge for their breathing. He had her. She was his.

He threw back the sheets from her body, and placed kisses along the exposed skin left by the open shirt. She was still not awake. He sighed, realizing that he was going get her attention. He always seemed to be vying for her attention, by any means possible. He slipped his hand into her knickers as he moved up to latch onto one of her pink nipples. She was warm beneath his lips and as his fingers brushed against her clit, she began responding in a way he liked. Her moan filled the room as her eyes shot open. He used his teeth to scrape against her nipple as he pinched her clit between his fingers. She shook in response, her entire body stiffening as he toyed with her.

“Glad to see you’re awake,” he said releasing her breast as he sat back on his knees and removed his hand from her knickers. She only blinked at him a few times before he removed the offending silk garment and tossed it to the floor with his discarded clothes.

She smirked up at him as his hand went back to work between her legs. She moved against his fingers, her body quickly responding to the attention, “You’re very insistent, aren’t you?” she asked softly as her hand sought out his thigh. He was kneeling beside her, his fingers wreaking havoc on her body as her hand moved over his boxers until she found the rigid length of his cock. He groaned and thrust into her hand as she writhed on the bed.

“Enough of this,” he said, moving enough to remove his boxers. He slid into her in one quick thrust, finding the stress of the day drifting away from him as he buried himself inside his lover. His pace was frantic and Hermione seemed agitated with him for it. She pushed him off of her and onto his back. She made quick work of straddling him and sheathing him inside of her once again. She rolled her hips into his, the pace steady and quick. She was as anxious to get there as he was, it seemed. She was still wearing his shirt and he slipped his hands over her hips to her breasts, squeezing and pinching in a way that made her moan his name. Her head was tossed backwards, hers hands resting on his thighs, and the shirt open enough so he could see his hands fondling her breasts. She was beautiful to behold. It was only moments later when she stiffened and let out this cry that her muscles clinched around him hard enough to send his orgasm ricocheting through him. She came almost as hard as he did. She gave one last thrust and he would almost swear he was dying it felt that wonderful. She collapsed on top of him; her head rested on his shoulder and his hands moved to her back, still beneath the shirt.

Her breathing was calming, as was his. He was exhausted and delighted. He rarely felt happy. It was only after sex, and specifically sex with her, that he felt this way. He supposed he was attached to her. She was smart and sassy and carrying his child. He did have a certain affection for her, but emotions often confused him, so he didn’t do much analyzing, but he did know that the day he collided with Hermione Granger was probably the best thing that ever happened to him.

~Fin~


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Written for the dmhgficexchange


Name/Pen Name: Pezi
LJ Username: pez_o_0
E-mail: Pez_o_0@hotmail.com
Are you over 18: yes
Rating(s) you’re willing to write: up to R
Rating(s) of the fic you want: R
One tone/mood you want your gift to include: Light angst, light fluff, sarcastic, witty
One element/theme/item you want your gift to include: A first kiss, maybe pregnancy
One common cliche you don\'t your gift to include: posthogwarts, during war, Draco suddenly becoming good and great, hermione being pureblood, OOC