Thank God For Potions Class

Authors Notes: My entry for reetinkerbell\'s (reetinkerbell@livejournal) \"Fantastic Cliches And Why You Should Write Them Ficathon\". I tried to get all 3 cliché’s in, and while one of them is sort of a stretch, I think I did! :) As always, a big thanks to reetinkerbell for being an awesome beta, and for starting this neat exchange!

November 20

I’ve got to have the worst “best friends” ever. I feel like the only time they want to be around me is when we have homework, or should I say, when I have the homework that they haven’t started on. They like to bring me along on their little escapades just so I can think of a way to get them out of the trouble they’ll undoubtedly fall into.
I know they saw me going into Myrtles bathroom this morning. I know they know I was crying, and they didn’t bother to see how I was feeling, what was wrong with me. When I went up to Gryffindor afterwards, they were just sitting in the common room playing Exploding Snap with Seamus and Dean. I didn’t stay.
Ever since Harry and Ron saved me from the troll back in First year, I’ve thought of them like my brothers, my best friends, my comrades in arms. Why do I get the feeling that they’ve only ever thought of each other that way, and not included me? I feel like these past 7 years have been almost a lie.
I don’t think I have any real friends, and, as much as I hate to admit it, that thought really makes me….sad.

Draco closed the book on the entry and set it back on the table he found it on. Granger was stupid, he thought, to leave her personal things lying around in the Head Common Room where he could find them. Her loss, he decided, as he picked the book back up and carried it upstairs to his room. He was extremely bored and thought the diary might have some entertainment value at the least.

~*~


Where the hell is that book?

Hermione was cursing to herself as she tore the common room apart. She couldn’t believe that she had lost her journal. The last time she remembered having it was the night before, here in the common room. She’d been writing, venting her frustrations, and she’d fallen asleep. Waking up in the middle of the night, she pulled herself off of the couch and went up to her room, forgetting the journal on the side table.

She was bent over, digging through the couch cushions when she heard the portrait door to the common room open and close behind her.

“Wow, Granger, you look good all bent over like that. Almost makes me forget you’re a Muggle.”

Hermione straightened and turned to look at the Head Boy. She opened her mouth but he held up a hand to cut her off.

“Yes, I know. I know,” he repeated, “I apologize for that.”

They had made an agreement at the beginning of the term, that although he had already stopped with the Mudblood comments and had mostly stopped being an all around bad person, they needed to be able to talk to each other without any kind of remarks like the one he’d just made about her Muggle heritage or about him being a stuck up Pureblood. They found that they worked quite well together until one of them got frustrated and let something slip out.

Hermione sighed, “Malfoy, have you seen my book?”

Draco rolled his eyes, “You have a thousand books Granger, think you can be more specific?”

“Its not a book, actually. It’s my journal.”

He shrugged, “Well, what’s it look like?”

“Its about this big,” she held her hands up, framing an invisible object, “with a black cover.”

“No, I haven’t seen it.” He said, and walked past her to the stairs that led to their rooms.

Of course he’d seen it. And he’d read it. All of it. It seemed she started a new journal every year but there were plenty enough entries already to let him in these facts about Hermione Granger. She was lonely, thought she had no friends, was a virgin, and she wanted him.

To say he was shocked about that last one was an understatement. The girl gave him absolutely no hints that she wanted him, or that she even liked him for that matter. But her diary said differently. His name had popped up four times in the first week of entries alone, and not in the same sentences as the words rude, slimy, prat, or git. Instead, his name, his given name even, had appeared next to words like sexy, lickable, and fantasize

He wouldn\'t have thought that Granger even knew how to fantasize, and to think that she did about made him shudder. And not in a bad way either. Hell, she\'d written down one of her fantasies and as he read it he’d had to take down his trousers and relieve himself.

And now any time he looked at her, the images he thought of as he read that entry would pop in his head. It was frustrating, especially since he knew she\'d never let him know of her attraction to him.

He wondered that if she knew how attracted he was to her it would make a difference. Because he was. Very attracted. He wanted very much to act out her fantasies with her. And with his father dead and gone, along with his pitiful Lord and the rest of the Death Eaters, he could do whatever, and whoever, he pleased.

~*~

“Hermione what’s the matter with you?” Harry asked, in between stuffing his face with kidney pie.

Hermione looked up, surprised. She wasn’t expecting a conversation tonight. Usually, she sat at the Gryffindor table and ate her dinner without the slightest interruption. The boys would talk back and forth about whatever their topic of conversation was that night, talking right over her if she tried to add something. She tried not to let it bother her. Usually they just talked about Quidditch, or, as of late…girls. Something Hermione definitely didn’t want to talk about anyway.

“Yeah, you look like someone killed your cat,” Ron added.

Hermione glared at him until she saw the light click on in his eyes, the realization that someone had, in fact, killed her cat less than a month before. She couldn’t believe that he had already forgotten. Especially with the way he and Harry swore to find out who did it and to make them pay. She wondered if they had even given their promise another thought since that night.

She stood up quickly and left the table, not answering Harry’s question. She looked back at them once to see them shrug at each other and continue their previous conversation. That in itself told her all she needed to know. The boys were not really her friends. She just hoped that at least some of their friendliness towards her over the years was real. As she felt tears welling up in her eyes, she started running to get out of the Great Hall, slamming into a hard body just outside the doors.

“Hey, watch it!”

Arms caught her around her waist before she could fall from the impact and she looked up into the stormy grey eyes of Draco Malfoy. Of all the people to see me like this, she thought as she pulled herself from his grasp. She wiped at her eyes and put some distance between the two of them.

“I’m sorry Malfoy, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“Obviously. It seems as though you were distracted.” He drawled.

Hermione automatically looked back to the doors of the Great Hall and sighed. She just wanted to be back in her room. She wanted her journal. She needed to write.

“Sorry.” She said again and turned to walk away.

“You don’t have to keep hanging around them you know.”

She stopped, turned, and stared at him, “What are you talking about?”

“Potter and Weasley. They treat you like shit. I’ve been wondering why you let them.”

Her back stiffened and she opened her mouth to tell him to mind his own business, but he spoke again before she could.

“There’s no need to get prissy, Granger, I was just wondering. I think you’d be better off without them.”

With that, he turned and entered the Great Hall, leaving her staring after him.

~*~

“Oh thank God,” was all Hermione could say when she spotted her journal sticking out from behind the chair that had been pushed against the back wall of the common room. Though she had checked behind this chair before, she was too grateful at finding it to question why it had suddenly appeared there.

Taking the stairs to her room she flopped down on her bed with the journal and a quill. She flipped through it, intent on finding an empty page to voice her frustrations over Ron, Harry and loosing the damn journal in the first place when she noticed it. This journal was not hers. She stared at the elegant slopes of the words written on the last entry and instantly recognized the handwriting.

This was Malfoy’s journal.


November 22

I had another dream about her last night. She was on her knees with my cock in her mouth and she was loving it. Groaning and moaning while her mouth bobbed up and down on me, her tongue doing delicious things that made my eyes roll back into my head.

I pulled her to her feet and crushed my mouth down on hers. I’ve been wanting to do that in real life for a long time now, kiss her. Just kiss her breathless, but what would she do if I did? I’d probably get jinxed before I could get close enough to find out. Anyway, I kissed her and she rubbed herself against me. We were both naked already so I let my hand drift down and cup her hot center. She was so hot and wet that I almost came then. I put a finger inside her and she clenched around it. So tight, I just wanted to be inside of her, so I grabbed her and lifted her against the wall, sliding into her.

She moaned loudly and I couldn’t hold back my own answering moan. It felt so good to be inside of her and even better when I started thrusting. She gripped my shoulders and moved her hips, meeting me thrust for thrust. She was panting my name – Draco, not Malfoy- over and over as I pushed myself into her.

She screamed as she came. I wonder if she really does scream like that. I bet she does, she probably screams and moans and sighs and all that other sexy shit when she’s on her back and in ecstasy. Fuck, I’m getting hard just thinking about this.

I want to tell her how badly I want her. She’ll probably feel just as good as she does in my dreams. I want to push myself inside of her and feel her hot and wet all around me. I just need to find a way to do it without getting my balls hexed off.

Hermione closed the book, blushing furiously. Damn it, she shouldn’t have read that. Not only for the fact that it was Malfoy’s private journal, or that it said things that she really shouldn’t be reading about. But the fact that it had just given her an excuse to flip over on her back, run her hand down her stomach and slip it under her skirt, tracing her folds through her knickers before pushing them aside and plunging two fingers inside her wetness.

Even if she was somewhat jealous of the girl in his fantasy, she used Draco’s words to create one of her own. Where it was her mouth bobbing on him, it was her he’d picked up and shagged against the wall. His breath hot in her hair as he thrust into her repeatedly. She cried out as her finger skimmed lightly over her clit and she only had to brush against it a few more times before she was shaking, bucking against her hand as she came.

~*~

He had to have it, Hermione thought as she paced in front of the Head Boy’s door. She had his journal, and they looked remarkably alike, so he just had to have hers. It was logical. She only hoped that he hadn’t had a need to write in it over the past few days and discovered his error by reading her own entries. That would leave her mortified. The way she blabbed on about him in her journal, it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she had the hots for him.

The only thing left to do was to break into his room, get her journal and replace it with his. She knew he was at Quidditch practice, she’d seen him go down in his gear while she was on her way back from the library. He looked so sexy, she thought. Seeing him in his Quidditch uniform always had her rubbing her thighs together, and today he’d looked right at her as they passed each other, and winked.

An eye twitch, because that’s all it was, she told herself, should not have got her all worked up like it had. It should not have made her run the rest of the way to the Head Dorms. And it surely shouldn’t have had her stripping out of her clothes the minute she crossed the threshold so she could touch herself. Right there on the common room floor she’d brought herself, hard and fast, to orgasm. All because of one bloody eye twitch.

And now, after coming down off of the amazing high she’d been on, she stood in front of his door talking herself into his bedroom. It’s not like she’d be stealing it, after all, it was her own journal right? But breaking and entering? That one was harder to convince herself of. Shaking her head quickly, she raised her wand.

He wouldn’t even know about it.
~*~

“…and Granger, with Malfoy.”

Hermione gaped at Professor Snape as he read off the people he’d partnered together for their new assignment. She’d been quite ecstatic to learn that they would be brewing Veritaserum, however, being partnered with Malfoy was not exactly high up on her list of wants. That’d mean sitting next to him at the small workbench, legs pressed up against each other, and hands brushing each other’s while chopping and adding ingredients to the cauldron.

She just didn’t know if she could handle that kind of pressure. She didn’t know if she’d be able to stop herself from touching him. The only reason she’d managed so far was by staying in her own personal bubble, and not venturing outside of it when he was around. And that was getting to be a challenge in its own right as of late. Malfoy had started coming to Hermione’s table in the library to revise for N.E.W.T.S with her, and just the day before, she’d been sitting on the couch in the common room and he’d plopped down next to her and actually started talking to her.

She had stared at him wide eyed for a moment, not being used to having a normal conversation with Malfoy. They only ever talked about Head business, what Prefect was covering each Patrol shift, and who wanted to head the next Prefect meeting. Granted they did discuss this with no malice or forced politeness, it had never gone beyond school duty. Never personal.

So when he up and started talking to her like…well…a friend, it startled her. Then, when he started talking about how horrible of friends Harry and Ron were to her, she was halfway surprised that he cared, and halfway suspicious that he had, in fact, read her journal.

And the way he grinned at her as she walked over to his workbench, Hermione went from ‘halfway suspicious’ to completely suspicious. Convenient then, wasn\'t it; that they were about to make a truth serum.
~*~

“Merlin, Granger,” Draco said, quickly grabbing her hand above the cauldron, “watch what you’re doing would you?”

Hermione snapped to attention, noticing with horror that in her daydream induced state, she’d just been about to add the Mandrake Root before the Dragon’s Blood.

“Where were you just now?” he asked.

“What are you talking about? I haven’t left this seat!”

“Not physically, no, but you weren’t here mentally. You were gone. Off in another daydream, were you?” he teased.

Hermione fought the blush making its way to her cheeks. She couldn’t help but to daydream when she was sitting right there next to him. For Merlin’s sake, she could feel the heat from his body through his robes. His hand kept brushing hers as they chopped and added ingredients, one time he even grabbed hold of her hand on accident, thinking it was his knife. And each time their skin connected, she felt tingles all the way down to her toes.

“You know Snape is going to make us test this, so let’s try to keep ourselves from nodding off in class shall we Hermione?”

She could only nod dumbly back at him. He’d called her Hermione. Surely by accident, she thought. He must be getting too comfortable around her, she was Granger and he was Malfoy and that’s how it had always been. It made sense then; that that’s how it should always be, didn’t it?

“Granger,” he asked suddenly, and she was glad for the switch back to last names, “What did Potter and Weasley get you for your birthday?”

She stared at him, “What kind of question is that?”

“Just a simple, regular question.”

“A few novels,” she told him, “just like every year.”

“They buy you books every year?”

She looked offended and tossed in a handful of dried lizard tails half-hazardly , “Well, I like books.”

“That may very well be, Granger, but surely you’ve got to want something different once in awhile? Something that shows how well they know you? I’m sorry, but books every year just shows me that they know you like to read, to study, to learn. But, come on, everyone knows that.”

She’d thought the same thing as well, thought that they’d only actually got her gifts to stay in her good graces, but would not say that to him. She had barely admitted it to herself.

“So what are you saying Malfoy?”

“Just that they aren’t very inventive. I’d be more creative in selecting something for you.” He said, and turned back to the potion, which was about to simmer above the rim.

He stuck his wand in and turned 9 times clockwise, then once anticlockwise while she watched, mouth partly opened in astonishment. As if he’d ever get her a present in the first place! Before she could say anything to that fact, his hand was in the air waving to Professor Snape.

“Mr. Malfoy?” he asked from his desk at the front of the room.

“We’ve finished, Professor.”

~~

“What’s your name?”

“Draco.”

Hermione marvelled at how much like water Veritaserum actually tasted, as she looked him in the eye. There was something about the way he was staring at her that made her stomach flip flop. She licked her lips and thought out her questions.

“How old are you Draco?”

“Seventeen. How old are you?” he asked.

“I’m eighteen, and right now, I’m asking the questions.” She told him.

There were a few ‘ooohs’ from the class, Draco silenced them with a look and turned back to her. He cocked his head to the side and grinned, he couldn’t help himself, “You want me, don’t you?”

Her mouth dropped; “Yes!” she blurted and threw her hand over her mouth at the admission.

The class gasped as a group, and Draco smirked at her. She looked around at her classmates and watched them hide their laughter behind their hands. She was only glad that Harry and Ron didn’t take N.E.W.T Potions. But then again, why should she care?

“You read my journal didn’t you?” she asked.

“Yes.” He said calmly.

“You utter prat! You saw me tearing the common room apart looking for it!”

“Well I’d just finished it and didn’t have time to put it back.” He said, only being able to be honest.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Snape interrupted, “Miss Granger, I think we can see that your potion is indeed a success. You are both dismissed for the day.”

Hermione stomped back to their workbench and snatched up her bookbag. She didn’t look back as she left. She was halfway to her dorm when he caught up to her, pulling her arm until she stopped.

“Hey look, I’m sorry okay? I read your journal. I probably shouldn’t have. But you can’t act like your innocent either.”

“Oh what are you talking about?” she asked, annoyed.

“I left my journal in the common room the other night. I know it was there before dinner, and afterwards, it was gone.”

Her cheeks flamed against her will and she cupped them with her hands, turning to walk away again.

“I thought it was mine Malfoy. So, okay, I read some of it, I didn’t pick it up on purpose.”

“No? Well, what did you think of its contents?”

She stopped again and turned to him. “Retract that question please.”

“No, I want to know.”

She sighed, “It turned me on, and it pissed me off,” she added when she saw the satisfied grin on his face.

“Pissed you off?” He asked, as they continued walking again, this time at a slower pace.

He saw the look in her eyes as they rounded the corner to the entrance to their dorms, and watched her as she spat the password to the portrait.

“You’re jealous.” He stated, unbelievingly.

“Yes, if you must know!” she growled and pushed into the room.

“Why did that make you jealous?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. Damn him for asking her these questions when she was unable to lie.

“I was jealous because I want to be that girl you dream of. Because I want you so bad and I’ve never really been able to come up with the reasons why. I’m jealous that she can get those kinds of feelings out of you, the way you write about her. I’m jealous of it all!”

She made her way to the staircase that led to her room when his voice stopped her.

“Don’t be stupid.”

“What?” she asked, turning.

He was across the room and had her pressed against the wall before she could take her next breath.

“You’re jealous of yourself. It is you in my dreams.”

And then he was kissing her.

It felt like her feet were swept from under her and she were floating. His hands cradled her face and his tongue was in her mouth, sliding over hers, demanding. Her hands came up around his neck and fisted in the collar of his robes.

He released her mouth and licked a path to her neck, nibbling on random spots on her collarbone. His hand came down and under her shirt, palming her breast and making her gasp. She’d never done anything like this before and, though this all seemed a bit rushed, it felt wonderful and she didn’t want that feeling to stop. Ever.

Her leg somehow ended up around his waist and he bent down to lift her in his arms. She could feel his arousal pressing against her through his trousers and she felt a surge of happiness knowing that he was in that condition because of her. His mouth found hers again and their tongues battled, he won and she almost fainted from lack of air.

“I want you Hermione.” He said, pushing back.

She groaned, “Oh God, I want you too.”

“I mean to have you. Now.\"

\"Yes,\" Hermione said, feeling not at all embarrassed, \"go up to my room.\"

\"No. I want you in my bed. I want to see you sprawled out on my sheets.”
~*~

They fell on the bed in a tangle of limbs, hands pushing at each other’s clothing, trying to feel skin. Hermione moaned when he pulled her shirt open, sending buttons flying, and bent his head to kiss the swell of breast visible above her white lace bra.

His hands moved across her body, leaving a trail of fire behind as he swept them across her stomach and down her thighs. Under her skirt now, he fingered the top of her knickers before pulling them off and down her legs.

“Oh,” Hermione moaned and she sucked in a breath when he moved down, put his face right in between her legs and inhaled deeply.

“Fuck.” He breathed.

Her scent danced inside his nostrils and he felt his cock bounce in approval. His tongue darted out and he licked a path up her folds and to her nub. Her hips bucked automatically and he put a hand on her abdomen to keep her still.

“My God, Draco!” she said it in a moan, but then, “What the hell are you doing?”

He looked up at her, confused, and she took the chance to wiggle out of his embrace and sit up.

“What was that?” she asked, panting. It felt fantastic. She wasn’t sure that was normal.

“Didn’t you like it?”

“Of course I did,” she blushed; the Veritaserum was still in her system.

“Then what’s the problem?” he asked, pulling on her until she lay back down and immediately began lapping at her again.

“The problem?” she asked in a whimper, clutching her hands in his hair, her worries forgotten.

Her head fell back and she let out a long keening moan as he licked a path around her clit before moving back down and dipping his tongue into her heat. One of his hands drifted up her torso and landed on her breast, pulling the cup of her bra down and exposing her. He pinched her nipple, causing her to squeal in delight.

Hermione looked down at him and found him staring back up at her, and it was simply the way he was looking at her that made her come so hard. The hand that was in his hair clenched tightly, holding him in place and she bucked her hips against his face, riding out the delicious waves of pleasure.

Draco extracted himself from her grasp and slid inside of her while she was still experiencing her orgasm, thinking that it would divert her from the pain of losing her virginity.

He was wrong.

She stiffened under him, gasping at the intrusion and the sudden pain she felt. Her eyes squeezed shut and a few tears leaked out onto her face.

He winced and wiped the tears away gently with his thumb, “I’m sorry Hermione.” He hadn’t meant to hurt her, “I’m so sorry baby, I am. I thought if I just-“

She silenced him with a finger to his lips, then leaned up and kissed him, “Don’t be sorry. Move”

He nodded and pulled back slightly, wincing again when she did, and pushed back inside. He bent down and kissed the new tears from her face as he pulled himself out again, thrusting back in, deeper this time. They moaned together and Draco couldn’t help himself as he gripped her hips and began pumping rhythmically into her tight wetness. It didn’t take long at all for her to fall over the edge again, this time taking him with her.
~*~

“Hermione,” he began when they’d calmed their breathing.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t want you hanging around Potter and Weasley any longer.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, a little mad that he’d just ruined the moment “They’re-“

“Not your friends,” he cut her off, “look, you’re mine now. Mine. And I don’t want to see you hurting anymore. That’s all they do, is hurt you, and you know it.”

“I-,” she stopped and sighed. She did know it.

All she wanted to do was to curl up in Draco’s arms and go to sleep; she’d do whatever he wanted. She’d already planned on cutting Ron and Harry off anyway, and the way he had said that she was his, there was no way she was going to regret it.


End.

A/N: In OOTP, Snape tells Umbridge that Veritaserum takes a month to mature, but for this fanfic’s sake, its immediate. :D


The Request
Penname: Witchiepooh
Rating: PG and Up
One-Three Clichés You Would Like Your Story To Include:
1. WorstBestFriendsEvah!Ron and Harry
2. Dumbledore/Snape/McGonagall/Fudge/Tonks/house elves/giants play matchmaker.
3. Hermione or Draco loses their diary and the other finds it
Clichés You Really Don\'t Want, If Any:
1. SuddenlyStunning!Hermione
Anything In Particular You Rather Not Write: Really any are fine, though I prefer to write a spoof/humor.
Prefer Spoof Or Serious: I\'d probably prefer having a spoof written for me, but I\'m fine with serious cliche story as well.
Translation: Either/Doesn\'t Matter