The Wonders of Obliviate

DISCLAIMER: I own none of these characters, the belong to a very talented Author and publishing company and what not... I am not profiting from writing this story in anyway except for my own perverse pleasures. Thank you.

Note: I happen to like angry, spoiled selfish Draco who will do anything he can to get what he wants.

Lastly I’m American, I won’t pretend to be otherwise, and I won’t pretend to write like I’m English. The slang I write here, I would probably say. I will try to keep short the very American slang however.

(Actually, one last thing, no promises for a fast update, or even whether I will write the next chapter or not. I love fanfiction, but it is not my life.)

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He looked at her, stunned for a moment. It couldn’t possibly Granger in front of him. Her curves were just right, breasts hanging with perky nipples, hips round but not fat. Her waist was slender, but not sickly, and over her stomach was just the right amount of curve to show her to be both healthy and natural.

She watched him, unsure of what to do next, she had taken the potion like he asked, and felt sick as it had taken affect. She was only doing this because it was his birthday, she loved Draco, and at least she was trying to make him happy. But he was just standing there, gaping at her. The least he could have done was put a mirror in the room, or told her the name of the potion she drank for him. She wanted to know what amazed him so, and if the gleam in his eye and the way he readjusted himself were any clues… the change was definitely pleasing to him.

“Draco…” she whispered, he asked her not to speak but, she felt really uncomfortable. Her body felt too fleshy, and her hair had become longer, heavier, it just wasn’t right that he stare at her that way.

Oh no! She knew that voice, it wasn’t hers, but it was familiar. It was very fucking familiar.

“Don’t say a thing,” he snarled at her suddenly, stepping forward to grab her. She stepped back in surprise, bumping into his large bed. “Don’t say a fucking thing, you understand?”

His abrupt anger interrupted her thoughts, she opened her mouth to protest. But before she could say a thing he slapped her. She was doing this for him, he should be more appreciative! Why the fuck was he so angry?

“That was for third year,” he said. But his voice had changed already; it was soft and gentle, but also firm. The arousal in his voice was clear.

Her cheek stung, and she bit her lip to keep her the tears from her eyes spilling over. Draco didn’t notice. He moved closer, little space left between their bodies has he began to lavishly feather kisses around her nape. She stood still, refusing to give in to his temperament so quickly. His mood swings were confusing to her, but by the time Draco had finished the sensual caresses with his lips, his skilled hands had already worked wonders down south.

She was wet and horny, and like hell she was going to stay angry at him when he could do this to her.

After, she thought to herself. I can be angry after.

Draco, in his normal style when they met, wore only his satin trousers. His erect penis was clearly outlined; her desire had finally grown that she could now tend to his needs as well.

She took his hand from the course hairs that he was curling about her cunt, pulling their bodies so close that his cock rubbed achingly along her hip. She was too short for this, it wasn’t normal, they used to fit just perfectly. She didn’t know what to do with his hands, and he was obviously waiting for her to continue.

She stood on her toes, kissing him quickly on the lips, and staring back in to his eyes. They were unusually unfocused, and she was startled by the realization of just how aroused he had become.

After another chaste kiss, and then another, she place his hands on her ass, and wrapped her own around his neck. Draco savagely was grabbing her ass, pressing her body harder against his. He began to pant has he rubbed himself against her, tonight’s fore-play was strangely slow. But she thought, maybe that it would be a good thing. She could feel his cock throb, and she wondered how he could stand it.

Being aware that tonight was for new things, she jumped onto him, startling him at the suddenly movement. Her legs wrapped securely around his hips, being just the right length to reach around. Apparently there were some advantages to being shorter.

But the temporary loss of contact left Draco floundering to get her into the right position. She refused to loosen the grip of her legs that held her just a little too high above his penis. Only the tip of his cock was in contact, and holy fuck he wanted more that just that against her.

“The wall,” she whispered. “Fuck me against the wall.” In his haze, he didn’t process that she had disobeyed him once again and spoke. But she had heard her new voice again, and it disturbed her. At least until he rammed her so hard against the wall that the breath was knocked out of her. Until she was so startled by the impact that her legs naturally loosened and she slid down just enough to get the touch that Draco was yearning for. Even with his satin trousers on, Drago didn’t old back, forcing his mouth on to her, ramming and rubbing his erection against her throbbing cunt.

It wasn’t enough, rubbing, chafing, pressing, smothering… none of it was enough. When was he going to take of the damn trousers and just fuck her silly?

He moved his head to the side, his kiss leaving her breathless has she was finally able to match the movement of her hips to his momentum. His penis was hard and it both hurt and felt so fucking good to be banged like this. Draco rested his head against the stone wall, his mouth next to her ear so that she could feel every panting breath, every savory heave his body made as they came more and more into contact.

“I love you,” he panted. Kissing her ear over and over, gently blowing and caressing the most sensitive areas with his tongue. “I only ever think of you.”

She was surprised, but thought it must be the sex, the foreplay, the arousal. Even in their two year relationship, they didn’t say things like that. It wasn’t done, it was assumed.

“I love you,” he said again. And repeated it several time has he pounded her particularly hard. She squirmed, losing rhythm, and as he made contact again her hand rubbed up his shaft.

A sudden moan told her it had been too much. He had come with out her, and she was still aching. When his stiffened body relaxed, he slowly started to move against her again. He wasn’t fully hard, but he was quickly getting there again.

“Sorry love,” he whispered with slight mirth, he licked her ear, her gasps only encouraging him. He kissed her on the lips, gently at first, and then rougher as his erection returned. She moved her hand to his hips, and started to work the satin trousers down slowly, but her progress was continuously impeded by his insistent rubbing. She needed him, she was aching, every time he moved away it felt like hell, and every time they touched it wasn’t enough.

She groaned in frustration, the elastic band over the tip of his hard cock being less then compliant to her hungry petting. Pushing him a way, she tried to gain control of things. Her hand snaked out to grab his balls. She held both in one hand and gently squeezed, rolling them, raking her nails along the underside.

He moaned, frozen, completely in her control. She slid her other hand into his satin trousers and fingered the tip of his bare penis. His hips thrust toward her inadvertently, and she smiled. Maybe now she could get the fuck she wanted.

She removed both hands to quickly strip him completely. Days like today, she still found herself in awe of his magnificent body.

Truthfully, the rumors about her having most of the boys in here house were lies. While she’d admit to fantasizing about quite a few of them, she had been absolutely loyal to Draco. She didn’t know if his cock was big or small, or long or short compared to others, erotic magazines and photographs were unclassy, and with blood like hers, she wanted no connection to any of it. So the only thing she new about his size, was that he was big enough to satisfy her.

Regardless, she still found that in moments of intense arousal when Draco was clearly both relaxed and ready to pounce, that the smooth muscles, the pale skin, and the salute of his penis to her sexual care (or his imagination) that his body was an absolute work of art.

The sight of him, and the glaze of arousal in his eyes led her to unknowingly purr to herself. She stopped when she heard the voice she produced, the thought of the voice sounding familiar resurfaced.

“Silencio.” His harsh voice whispered. “Next time listen to me bitch.”

“Draco, I-- ” but the voice never left her mouth, no sound was made. There was no time to fight him, to pound her fists against his soft skin in protest. He threw her onto the bed, and she landed softly on his heavenly silken quilt.

He flicked his wand—when had he started carrying it?—and her arms were pulled tight above her head, her wrists bound. She struggled, kicking her legs. The hatred and lust in Draco’s eyes scared her. He had never looked so… so predatory.

She didn’t want to play anymore; she didn’t want to fuck him. She wanted to get out, to shout, to scream, to know what potion she fucking drank with out question.

Her mouth was open, her pitiful attempts to scream amused Draco. Her eyes were wide as he watched her struggle, clearly enjoying her supple limbs and the way her breasts jiggled side to side. The way she unknowingly displayed her pink wet lips below the coarse curls the covered her pubic area as she flayed her legs in protest. In the past he would have compared her brown hair to mud with its dullish coloring, saying it matched her blood. But now the lengthy mess was inviting him to come closer, to smell her, be sweet, brush it out and untangle it for her. Unnecessarily weak thoughts were pushed from his mind as he focused again on her bouncing pert nipples.

The idea of taking her against her will was even more appealing than he thought it would be. Draco knew, though he loved her, he simply could not change over night. He hated her still, in the depths of his mind. He hated her perfection, and the attention he gave to her disgusting friends. He hated that she was unattainable, though he was obviously of higher class.

He watched her face twist in pain as he thrust in to her unceremoniously, he plunged deep into her, and despite her obvious discomfort, he could feel her beginning to adjust to him and enjoy it. He rammed her again and again, not caring about her own release, just pounding and pounding until he found his.

“Granger!” he breathed, as the stars in front of his eyes flew.

He noticed, with enjoyment, that she had began to sob. It didn’t bother him when she kicked him in the thigh as he pulled out of her.

“You can stop kicking, Pansy. I’m finished.” She glared at him, her body--No, Granger’s body, he thought--shaking furiously has he addressed her so calmly. He released her from the binds, but in her blind rage, her angry screaming and calling him perverse names, she barely noticed.

He smiled pleasantly at her, knowing that this would be the last fuck he would ever take from her.

“Obliviate.”

Maybe.

“Finite incantum.”

It was unlikely.

He couldn’t help his need, his desire to fuck Granger senseless. It wasn’t his fault that Pansy got her self into these situations with him, time and time again.

She watched blankly has he turned to leave her, still naked on his bed. He quietly whispered a sleeping spell before leaving the room with out looking back.

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She looked up from her table in the library as Draco Malfoy slipped into a seat across from her. His robes were as neat and as tidy as they had been when she saw him leave the Great Hall with Pansy in tow just over two hours ago.

It was well known today was his birthday, the final to be celebrated at Hogwarts, so it was with good reason Hermione Granger was surprised to see him dressed, in the library, with out the despised Parkinson panting at his heels.

(How could she had missed Pansy bragging quite loudly in the hall earlier of the plans Draco had let slip to her? A night of shagging illicitly in his private room, a privilege only granted by having received the Head Boy badge… it was no wonder Hermione had decided to stay in the Library studying as late as possible, her room was next to his.)

She stared furiously at her Potions homework, an essay on Werewolf poison. Hadn’t Snape gotten enough out of their essays on werewolves in their third year?

When Draco didn’t speak, she gave in, and looked up. He had a curious expression on his face. His normally pale cheeks had a faint flush to them, Hermione noticed for the first time, there were two strands of hair out of place—unusual for the Slytherin.

And he was staring at her as though he could see through her clothes.

Oh god, just the thought made her tremble nervously.

“Can I help you?” she tried to ask politely. There was no doubt in her mind that she still despised Draco Fuckingly Bloody Gorgeous Malfoy. But one couldn’t help appreciating how good his looks were, regardless of the fact he was still the biggest prat at Hogwarts.

Her politeness however had more to do with her agreement at the beginning of the year with Malfoy to stop the name-calling and the petty rudeness in favor of civility. The idea being they both might actually get some things done this year. So far, it had worked remarkably well, still Hermione found her self often biting her tongue, where out of habit she would normally let a scathing remark slip from her lips. When she entered a room her eyes would often search for Malfoy, looking to be sure he was keeping his end of the bargain, and not reverting entirely to his untrustworthy ways the minute he stepped out of their shared common room.

“Yes,” he said hoarsely. He licked his lips, eyeing hers.

Hermione felt her pulse quicken, there was something unnerving about the way Malfoy was examining her.

“Well?” she squeaked.

Draco cleared his throat, his eyes clearing as they met hers. “Let me come again,” he kept his voice smooth, trying not to plead. The bemused look on the innocent Gryffindor’s face meant she had clearly missed his innuendo. It was only natural after all, for her to have absolutely no fucking clue that he had been fucking her form only minutes before.

“All right, I suppose.” Hermione said slowly, not quite understanding what he was asking. “But if you’re going to come again, you had really best bring something to study with.”

His groan of exasperation confused Hermione further as he stood to leave. “Tomorrow night?”

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. “Yes, I’ll be here tomorrow night.”

Curtly nodding Draco continued to stand about as if he had something more to say unnerving Hermione even more. Quickly she gathered her things, and though she knew there was a chance of meeting Malfoy again in their common room tonight, for now she just wanted to put as much distance between them as possible.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night!” Malfoy called after her. His voice strangely seemed almost eager and excited. It was especially odd considering their close quarters, and how many classes they had together. This included the first two the next day.

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Pansy woke to find herself naked, Draco spooning her from behind. As she rolled to face him her sore muscles twinging, none of her memories from last night, and how she had ended up here, came back.

He had never allowed her into his room before.

Well, even if her memory was beginning to fail her around Draco, at least their relationship was going further.

It seemed like with in the last few months, she was having a harder time remembering what she did with him. Things almost always began when Draco would surprise her in a hall with quick kisses, sweet words, and some small token to make her heart flutter.

She would remember meeting him, and seeing his glorious eyes light up as she would enter a room, or pull him into an alcove. And she knew the light in his eyes was for her, for the love they shared. That lusty light was special to her. It was how she knew he never strayed.

Students from other houses at Hogwarts maybe wary when it came to Draco’s smile and his patented smirk, but when he flashed either at her, she knew she would be in for breathtaking sex very soon.

Her problem was, the only things to remind her of the sex she couldn’t remember, would be the bite marks on her breasts, neck even her thighs, where Draco had gotten a little too into their fun. Perhaps sore muscles where Draco probably challenged, dragged, or teased her into a new position. Finding new toys she couldn’t remember left behind in their favorite spots. Sometimes she would begin to wonder, especially as she saw a reoccurring pattern in the color of the unmentionables he would frequently favor her with.

A deep blood red. Always red. A perfect match to the Gryffindor color, if Pansy wasn’t mistaken. But she knew that’s not why he bought them for her. He would whisper, as they began to fondle each other feverously, that the color matched her skin perfectly. Matched the flush of her cheeks like no other color. He bought them for her because he said, it was her natural color. His passionate lioness.

But this time, her whole body was sore, and there were bruises on her wrists like she had been held tightly.

Had he put her in bonds?

The idea of losing control, having Draco fully dominate the pleasure she received, begging for his kisses, his touches, his cock entering her, it all thrilled her.

It was too bad she couldn’t remember if she had enjoyed it as much as he seemed to have. After all, what else besides reminiscing of their love making would be causing Draco to moan and fondle himself while he slept?

She grinned tiredly to herself, slithering her body along his as she moved her mouth into position over his waiting cock. Pansy licked her dry lips, and began to feather kisses onto his head, letting her tongue lash out occasionally to sample the precum that had begun to leak. Draco’s hand slid behind her head, tangling itself in her sleek locks, pushing her against him. Even in his sleep he was strong, and in control, his penis slipping past her mouth as he pushed hard on her head. He rubbed it against her cheek, moaning against even the simple friction. Pansy grinned again, and decided to take this opportunity to waken Draco. Deftly, she pushed his cock aside and roughly nipped the skin of his balls.

He was awake in an instant.

“Oh, its you,” he said simply. His annoyed tone was not lost on her. Pansy ignored the comment implying he had been expecting someone else. Her Draco Malfoy didn’t stray.

Pansy smiled at him seductively, “I thought we could play, a little while longer before that nosy mudbl--” Draco smacked her.

“I was having a fantastic dream. Next time you do something so petty as awake me to instigate in something you only think I’ll enjoy, don’t bother.” Snidely he added as an after thought, “She has a name Pansy, you’d do well to respect those who have proven to be your betters.”

She hissed at him, her eyes flashing viciously. “Draco Malfoy, I’d almost believe you had a thing for that annoying bitch. If it weren’t for the fact that when I rubbed you like this,” her fingers trailed up the underside of his still erect penis. “I would say you would rather have her company than mine.”

He laughed at her openly. It was the only reaction he could allow himself as Pansy had come dangerously close to the truth. Could his two year “girlfriend” be any more of a stupid bint than she was acting now?

He almost pitied her obliviousness. Almost. But then Pansy would do something stupid and over-possessive, like trying to mark him as her own, and all feelings of remorse would be gone instantly.

Yes, that’s right, Draco Malfoy had a conscious. But he didn’t often listen to it, an inner voice like that would only lead him to act like Fucking Saint Potter. Really, the thought was horrendous. He rather liked the reputation of The Boy Who Is The Son of An Infamous Death Eater And Who Will Give A Girl The Best Fuck Of Her Life (As Long As She’s Discreet). It suited him, and everyone but Pansy seemed to be aware of his nocturnal habits (and how they didn’t often include her).

For example now, Pansy actually thought he cared. (Ridiculously really, and as far as he was concerned their “relationship” was a figment of Pansy’s over active imagination.

Involuntarily he groaned, his hips thrusting forward at the sudden contact of her wet and eager mouth closing over his head.

Yes, he was aroused. But he as angry and it was time he showed her at last who was in control.

He fisted her hair and shoved her head farther onto his erection. He enjoyed thoroughly the sensation of her throat convulsion around him as Pansy gagged in surprised. “Don’t start what you can’t finish, slut.” As he felt her throat open to adjust to him, he pulled her head away, hips thrusting against her one last time as her teeth dragged long his sensitive skin.

“Lay still,” he didn’t bother to wait for her reaction after he threw her away from him. Her legs lay askew across the bed and she clearly hadn’t processed what Draco had in mind for her.

He moved forward, and then grabbed her calves and pulled her the remaining distance to him. Her eyes danced with excitement as his head ducked down to her breast. He blew on a nipple to distract her, and then thrust in to her tight opening, not bothering to wait for her assurance she was ready. She winced, biting her lip against the pain, the only lubricant being the small amount of saliva remaining on his cock. He laughed, pounding against her, feeling them connect. He pounded in to her, watching her breasts wiggle, watching as she bit through her lip, and a bit of blood covered it. He leaned forward and licked the blood away, snarling when she tried to deepen the contact. He hammered into her, leaning forward and biting the same nipple he’d teased earlier. He didn’t bother to be tender with her, he didn’t feel like it. He was angry. Angry that it was Pansy he was fucking. Angry Hermione was still in the library innocently studying while he was fucking fantasizing about taking her up against the wall like he had earlier. Angry that it had only been a fantasy, that in truth he had fucked Pansy during the glory of her stint as Granger—thank you Polyjuice potion. He was angry that that was what he had to resort to.

“Draco! Stop-- ” He heard Granger in his mind, as he took her in an alcove. “—hurting me.” Behind his closed lids he saw Granger in her naked glory on the Slytherin stands of the Quidditch field. “Draco, please!” Granger’s pleading filtered through him, her needy, wanton pleading.

“Granger!” He thrust in to her one last time, coming a part.

In his post-orgasm fuzz, he vaguely saw the pieces come together in her eyes. The red lingerie, the potions she took for him, the memory lapses, the angry protectiveness he occasionally displayed when Pansy badmouthed the Gryffindor girl. The nick name ‘lioness’ is what hurt her most of all.

He was still inside her, trapping Pansy below his weight, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t struggle. Her fists flailed, her legs kicked, she screamed foul words at him. Occasionally she would hit him hard enough he wondered if he would have a bruise later. But through it all, Draco did nothing, he wouldn’t move, didn’t cast silencing spells. It was the least he owed her. Though, he thought ruthlessly, it isn’t as though she would remember.

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That evening as he sent a sated Pansy Parkinson back to the Slytherin rooms, it became clear to Draco that continuing has before would no longer be an option. He was letting himself slip too easily into the luxury of the obliviate spell, and sooner or later, the extensive use of it against Pansy would damage more than just her memory.