Best Served Cold

Warning: This story contains elements of erotic asphyxiation. It can be a dangerous and lethal act if not done properly with bad results and prosecution if it goes wrong--please, for your own safety and that of your partner/lover, do not try this at home!!! Especially if you are alone!!!


Best Served Cold

Draco nosed around the school, still wondering what had gotten into Granger a week ago when she had dragged him off into the dungeon and shagged—no, fucked him silly.

It was merely by chance that he overheard a couple of conversations that gave him much more insight into the events preceding the episode in question. The first occurred in the boys’ lavatory on the fourth floor between Ron and Harry.

They had entered in their usual boisterous manner and Malfoy secreted himself in a stall, hoping to overhear some juicy tidbit that would explain why Granger and Weasley were suddenly on the outs. It had even gone so far that Granger suddenly changed seats in the Great Hall after six years of sitting by the arrogant prats; now she sat on the end facing the Slytherin table, an event that Draco himself could not protest in the least. It gave him a completely unobstructed view of the anachronism that was the untouchable Gryffindor and he took full advantage of it. Although there were occasions that friends would join her in her new corner, it was more likely that she was alone.

Harry was speaking in lowered tones so it was hard for Draco to hear his comments. Not so with the weasel.

“I can’t even speak to her, Harry! It was bad enough when she was going out with Krum or even Smith, but with the rumors that are circulating about what she did with Malfoy—it just turns my stomach. And to think that I had considered going out with her.”

There was a murmured response and the angry redhead continued. “I don’t care. I didn’t tell her that we were going to be exclusive. It isn’t my fault that she can’t understand simple English. I said I wanted to explore our relationship, not that we were boyfriend and girlfriend already. She knew that I was going out with Lavender—she should have known that I didn’t want to hitch up with just one girl.”

After another comment from Potter, Weasley seemed to get angrier. “Played? Why should she feel like she was played? I didn’t make any dates with her. Bloody hell, Harry, all I did was kiss the girl!”

Harry must’ve responded with something because Weasley was throwing his arms around and redder than his hair again. “As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a friend named Hermione anymore. If she’s that big a slag to fuck the ferret, then good riddance to bad rubbish.”

They had left after that and Draco sat down on the lid of the loo and pondered what he’d overheard.

Later the same day he chanced upon the Weaselette and Granger in the library, talking quietly behind some books in the Muggle Studies section. He waited with his back against the shelves the next aisle over and listened with one of the Weasley Twins’ Extendable Ears—something that he would deny owning until the owls came home.

“I can’t pretend that it didn’t hurt, Ginny. He used my feelings to make me think that there was more there than just someone to snog during the summer. I’m not his toy or his plaything—I’m a person with feelings, not a puppet for Ron Weasley to play with.”

“But Hermione, I don’t think that he thought of it that way. You know how stupid my brother is when it comes to girls. I doubt that he even knew how big a crush you had on him.”

“Well, that was done and over when I caught him having sex with that…that…Lavender in the Astronomy Tower. Ginny, I was ready to give myself to him body and soul. I’ve liked your brother as long as we’ve been in school and he’s never seen me as any more than someone to copy assignments off of. I’m surprised we’ve been friends this long, really. I’m done with him.”

Ginny pondered this for a long minute, then changed the subject. “So, did you really do it with Malfoy?”

Hermione looked around and lowered her voice. “Truthfully? Yes.”

Ginny squealed and nearly burst Draco’s eardrum. “Ooh! Was he any good?”

“Ginny, for Merlin’s sake, lower your voice. I don’t want it to get out into the gossip mills. Yes, he was good. Very good. Would I do it again? Yes. Would he want to? The chances of it are slim. After all, to him I’m the bushy- haired Mudblood. I doubt there’s a chance in hell that he would want to shag again, but that’s all right too.”

“Hermione, you don’t want to be just another notch on his wand, do you?”

Hermione laughed out loud and it made a funny feeling flutter through Draco’s gut. “What else is there? You don’t shag the Slytherin sex god and expect to be anything else. Merlin’s beard, Ginny, if a man could be a slag, he would be one.”

Ginny sighed dreamily. “Yes, but what a slag he’d be. Gorgeous to look at and a wizard in the sack.”

Hermione threw her a dirty look. “Ginny, he’s a wizard all the time, not just in the sack. If he wasn’t such a prat and so priggish about blood purity, we could have been friends, I think. Heaven knows we’re probably two of the smartest students in this school. I’d wager that he has something interesting to say about most things, if he’d only pull his head out of his arse and quit acting like the gift to the wizarding world.”

Draco pulled the Ear out of his ear and sat back against the bookshelf, pondering more on both conversations. With a sudden flash of inspiration, he knew what he would have to do to accomplish what he wanted.


Hermione was sitting at the end of the table eating dinner, her eyes on her plate. Ron and Harry whispered angrily at each other down the table with Ginny looking on, a disdainful expression directed toward her brother. Most of the Gryffindors were trying to stay out of this little spat between the trio; nobody wanted to get hexed from any of them, all things considered.

Draco watched until he knew she was close to being finished with her meal, then stood and crossed the Great Hall, knowing that every eye was trained on him. He stopped across from her seat and cleared his throat until she looked up at him with wide brown eyes that were brimming with curiosity and suspicion.

“Malfoy. What a surprise. Something that I can do for you?” she finally asked, sipping her pumpkin juice.

“Would you like to walk by the lake this evening?”

She nearly spit her pumpkin juice out when he finished his question. “Whatever for?” she finally managed when the spluttering and choking eased.

He sat down and glanced at Weasley out of the corner of his eye. Hermione followed his look and saw Ron reddening and choking, Harry looking at them suspiciously, and Ginny smirking in their direction. Whispers could be heard over the silence that had overtaken the Great Hall and it seemed like everyone was on the edge of their seat, even the professors at the head table.

Draco lowered his voice and reached across to take her hand, making it look more intimate than it was. “This doesn’t mean that I don’t hate you, Granger. Considering what I’ve been hearing though, I thought that you might want to give the weasel a little more to think about—and I could use a little intelligent conversation. Think of it as returning the favor.”

“What favor?” she asked, then blushed to her hairline when she realized what he was talking about. “Oh. Well, I don’t know that this is a good idea, Malfoy.”

They were interrupted by Weasley himself who chose that moment to march up to them with his wand drawn. “Get away from her, ferret. Hermione, you need to stop consorting with the enemy before Harry and I get the wrong idea about our friendship.”

Harry stood behind him shaking his head and Hermione looked from one boy to the other in turn, anger rising like bile in her gullet. “Ron, I think that I made it perfectly clear in the Common Room that I can go wherever I want with anyone I want. You have Lavender, remember? Perhaps she can help you occupy your time—or help you with your homework. I, on the other hand, will be busy.”

She turned to Draco and laced her fingers with his. “Draco, I would love to take that walk now.” Gracefully, she rose from the table and rounded the end to join Malfoy, sweeping out of the hall with him and leaving Ron standing there fuming.


As soon as they made it out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall, Hermione tried in vain to drop Malfoy's hand. He tightened his grip until it was almost painful and she gave up the fruitless fight, wondering what he was up to now.

He led her out of the building and down the grassy hill to the edge of the lake, strolling silently next to her. She studied his profile in the light of the full moon, still wondering what was going on behind those bluish-gray eyes in the inner workings of his mind.

“So, Malfoy, are you going to talk or just drag me around the lake?” she asked, tired of the stilted silence between them.

“Just wait,” he said cryptically. He led her to a large boulder that he favored and dropped her hand to pick her up by the waist and set her atop it. With an athletic jump he sat next to her, then claimed her hand again as they looked out over the water.

She leaned back on her other palm, enjoying the scenery. The lake shimmered in the moonlight; the only other thing moving was an occasional glimpse of the squid’s tentacles on the far edge of the water.

She was surprised when she heard Malfoy addressing her like a normal person. “This is nice, Hermione.”

She nearly choked again, but belayed the response when she noticed movement from the corner of her eye. “Yes it is, Draco.” She sighed. “Romantic.”

“Quite.” He lifted her hand and kissed the palm with a bare brush of his lips, but it was enough pressure to send a jolt to her groin and incite a persistent throbbing.

He moved his head closer to her and whispered, “Your watchdogs are here.”

“I know. I saw them.” Leaning back, she arched her back and shook her heavy curls from side to side. In a louder voice she said, “I don’t know why we’ve never done this before, Draco. I mean, we’ve had plenty of chances, just never took them.”

He had no ken to the game that she was playing but played along for some devious reason. “I know, Hermione. To think that if you hadn’t had enough of sneaking around we wouldn’t be able to do this.”

She shrugged, pleased that he was so observant and willing to make Ron suffer. “The subterfuge was getting tiresome. I hated our pretend fights.”

“Oh, good one,” he whispered. Louder, he said, “As did I. It was getting more difficult to think of nasty things to say every day. I’m glad that we don’t have to do that anymore.”

His free hand came up to caress the nape of her neck beneath her luxurious hair. “Hermione, I—”

He was interrupted by Ron, who jumped out of the bushes nearby brandishing his wand in front of him. “I thought I told you to take your hands off of her, ferret!” he yelled.

They looked at each other, then looked at Ron askance. Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him and said calmly, “Ron, I would suggest that you put your wand away before you get hurt.”

“I’m not afraid of Malfoy!” Ron said with bravado.

“I’m not talking about Malfoy.” Hermione drew her wand calmly and pointed it at Ron. “I’m more adept with offensive spells than you are. Are you willing to take me on?” When he didn’t speak, she continued. “I will repeat this one more time and no more. I’m tired of you playing on my feelings to copy my homework and skive off your prefect duties to be with Lavender. I’m tired of being convenient for you to supply you with answers. I’m tired of being thought of as one of the guys. Most of all, I’m tired of being lied to, being thought of as second-best and the last resort, and being so bloody pathetic when it comes to you. Bugger off, Ron, and if you’re so petty as to think this means the end of our friendship, then so be it! I’m not willing to be your fallback anymore.”

Ron stammered and stuttered, to angry to form a coherent reply. Harry and Ginny walked up behind him and grabbed an arm each to lead him back to the castle. Harry tossed Hermione a sorrowful glance over his shoulder with a promise in his eyes that they would talk on the morrow; Hermione understood immediately and nodded her head.

When they were gone, she realized that Draco still had his hand under her hair, tickling the short hairs at the nape of her neck and rubbing his callused fingers over the soft skin. She looked at him and gave him a genuine smile. “Thanks, Malfoy. You can stop now.”

“Whoever said I wanted to stop, Granger?” His hand migrated, unlacing their fingers to grip her wrist. It was smaller than he imagined, smaller than Pansy’s or Daphne’s or anyone else’s that he could think of at the moment. The scent of her shampoo lingered in his nostrils and he finally put a name to it, speaking aloud. “Honey.”

“Pardon me?”

“Your shampoo—it smells like honey.” He pulled her closer by the wrist and neck and whispered in her ear, “I told you that the next time would be on my terms, Granger.”

She pulled back and looked at him with frightened eyes. “And I thought that I said there wouldn’t be a next time.”

“It seems that you were wrong.” He leaped down from the boulder and pulled her behind him, barely catching her as her knees buckled. He took her wrist and started to lead her into the forest but she balked, locking her knees and planting her feet until he was tugging furiously but making no headway.

Turning, he put his face close to hers, so close the tips of their noses touched. “You can either go on your own two feet or I’ll drag you, Granger. It’s up to you.”

He pulled again and her feet moved of their own accord, fearful of the anger and malice she had seen in his eyes. She was sure that he meant it; she wasn’t sure about the sudden rush of fluid that trickled into her knickers.


He took her to a secluded spot that wasn’t deep in the forest but too close for her own comfort. A small cove and tiny beach was nearby and she could hear the lake water lapping against the shore. As soon as she stepped farther in, he took a handful of salt from his pocket and closed a circle of power, whispering a spell as he did so. “No one will bother us now,” he said, noting her questioning look.

A torch flared as he moved closer to it and he led her to a blanket that was already spread on the hard ground. He sat down and she moved to sit as well, a movement that he forestalled with a wave of his hand.

“I want you naked. Completely. I didn’t see nearly enough of those tits or anything else for that matter the last…meeting that we had. Strip off those clothes, now.”

She wasn’t under any Imperius curse, she knew, but her fingers went to her tie and slowly undid it, folding it carefully and putting it to one side. She took her time with each button on her shirt, pushing it slowly through the hole on the placket of her blouse and moving with infinitesimal slowness to the next until her blouse hung open and her white bra was in view. The blouse fell from her shoulders with a shrug and she folded it as well, placing it on top of the tie.

She toed off her shoes and rolled her knee socks down to her feet before taking them off, then twisted her skirt until the placket was to the front to unbutton and unzip it, letting it drop to the ground to pool at her bare feet.

She glanced up at him through lowered lashes and found him sitting there enthralled, watching her every move with those inscrutable eyes. She let a small smirk cross her lips then turned her back to him to undo the fastenings of her bra before she let it slip from her arms and join the rest of her clothes on the grass next to her.

She crossed her arms over her chest and turned to face him. She was too busty to hide herself completely, but it did hinder her full frontal exposure quite a bit. “Malfoy, please…” she said.

A smile spread across his face but it was neither friendly nor comforting. It was smarmy and conceited, full of himself and his power over her at this moment. “Do continue, Granger. After all, we haven’t gotten to the best parts yet, have we?”

She rolled her eyes and decided to take back control of the situation. He was a teenage boy; even with a wand, he was relatively powerless when it came to the capricious nature of women. She lowered her head and looked up at him through her lashes, fluttering them seductively like she had watched other girls do when they were flirting with boys. She schooled her voice to drop into a breathy whisper, the same one that she had heard Lavender use on Ron in the Astronomy Tower and said the same thing that Lavender had said. “You…won’t tell, will you?”

Draco was shocked but hid it well behind a smirk. “Of course not, Granger. I don’t want any of my friends to find out that I’ve been consorting with the likes of you.”

She closed her mouth firmly to bite back the scathing remark that came to mind and instead unfurled her arms, trailing her fingertips down her chest to her cleavage and cupping her breasts with her hands. “Are they…too big? Too small?”

Draco held his breath as his cock began to harden in his trousers. “No—they’re perfect.”

She frowned down at them, her mind searching wildly for input on what to do next. “Are you sure? I mean, my nipples seem…awful big.” She pinched them with her fingertips, ignoring the thrill that shot to her groin and watching the slack look on his face.

He was having a hard time staying where he was. He wanted to rush her and bury his face in those perfect white breasts and draw his tongue down the cleavage that she was so nonchalantly displaying. He wanted to suck those perfect nipples into his mouth and flick them with his tongue until she writhed, begging for more. Instead, he shifted on the blanket and shivered slightly when his sensitive head raked along the inside of his zipper. “They’re fine, Granger. The knickers…get rid of the knickers.”

She looked at him shyly and slipped a finger under the waistband of the plain white schoolgirl knickers. Another finger from her other hand joined the first and she wiggled them back and forth until just a glimpse of her thatch of hair could be seen. At that point, she turned around, looking over her shoulder at him, then pulled them down below the cheeks of her arse, bending at the waist to lift out one foot, then the other before discarding them with her other clothes.

She turned halfway round to smooth a hand over her toned hip. “I’ve never been naked in front of a man before, Draco. Do I look okay?”

His eyes trailed over the lush curves of her arse and hip, hungrily devouring the sight of her hand smoothing over her skin. He swallowed, then ran his finger under his collar that had suddenly grown too tight. “Fine. You look fine. Come over here.”

She didn’t walk; she stalked over to him like a lioness befitting her house, kneeling on the edge of the blanket out of his reach. She let him look his fill until she had enough, then crawled across the blanket to him to grab him by the tie, pulling his face close to hers until their noses touched and her darkening eyes were all he could see.

“Did you think that you would bring me out here and humiliate me, Malfoy?”

Actually, that is what he thought, but with an angry Gryffindor nearly on his lap with a penchant for vengeance at the drop of a hat, there was no way that he would tell her that. “No. No, not at all.”

“Good.” She licked the corner of his mouth with an incredibly agile tongue. “Then why did you bring me here?”

“I thought…well, I enjoyed…and you did too…and I…Granger…” He couldn’t believe that a pureblood wizard like him was reduced to a stammering schoolboy by the likes of her. His mind whirled with the incongruous nature of the woman that straddled his legs gripping his tie. This was completely out of character for her; he would have imagined her to be shy and reticent, not this bold and daring temptress whose breath he could feel caressing his cheek.

“Fine. If that’s what you want, I’m willing.” She pulled him closer and tipped her head to trail her tongue over the fullness of his bottom lip. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes. Yes,” he finally said when he was able to speak again.

She flicked the buttons of his shirt open with one hand while she wrapped his tie around her fist with the other. “I’ll keep hold on this so you don’t get away,” she said, her eyes glinting mischievously in the torchlight. Her fingers toyed with the loose knot that rested just below his Adam’s apple, brushing against his skin ever so lightly. Her other hand pushed his shirt off his shoulders and he let it slip off to the ground unhindered.

“Take off your trousers. I want to see your cock.”

The commanding tone of her voice made him hard as steel. He struggled with the fastenings and raised his hips as best he could to shimmy out of his trousers and boxers at the same time, letting his erection spring free to bounce off the toned muscles of his abdomen.

She looked down and he saw her smile appreciatively. “Big. No wonder you felt so good.” Her hand encircled him boldly and she stroked upward to squeeze out the tiny droplets of pre-come. She swiped them with her thumb and brought it up to her lips to lick them off, swirling her tongue around the digit so he could see it. “Good. Not too salty.”

She scooted backward on his thighs to pinion his knees to the ground with her bottom, pulling him along with her. He was forced to sit up straight by the hold she had on his tie still around his neck. Hermione bent nearly double and licked the head of his cock like she had her thumb seconds before and he thought that he would explode right there.

She tightened her grip on his tie and looked up at him dangerously. “No, no, Draco. Better not come yet. You have a lot more to do before that will happen.”

Before he could answer or react his cock was already down her throat. She knew exactly what she was doing; quick on the downstroke and slow on the upstroke, tightening her throat and lips around his shaft as she moved upward. He could feel her cheeks hollowing with the suction as she sucked him; it took everything he had not to blow without warning. He thought of a thousand disgusting things—Snape having sex, Hagrid naked, Potter and Weasley watching—but he kept himself from coming by will and will alone.

She released his cock with a wet sucking noise, then licked the throbbing vein that ran along the underside before she looked back up at him. “I think that you’re sufficiently hard now, don’t you, Draco?”

“G-Granger…I…”

“Hermione. Call me Hermione.”

“Hermione. Gods, Hermione—”

She kneeled on his thighs and yanked on the tie and he found his face buried in the same cleavage that he had admired so long ago, it seemed. “Come on, Draco—you’ve been staring at them long enough. Put your mouth to a good use for once, will you?”

Instead, he reached up to drag her face closer to him and kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her lips. His tongue pressed against her lips and she let him inside, sucking on the tip in a parody of her previous actions on his cock and exciting him even further. As he devoured her mouth he let his hands skim over her exposed skin, memorizing curves and angles for later wanking fantasies.

Her nipples were pebbles in his palms as his hands brushed over them lightly. He thumbed them as he hefted the weight of her breasts in his hands, committing each texture and touch to memory. Her soft moans and sighs echoed in his ears as he dragged his mouth from hers to explore the soft skin of her throat and the slope of her chest, finally coming to rest on one hard nub that was too tempting to ignore any longer.

Hermione threw her head back and gasped aloud as he sucked one nipple into her mouth and toyed with the other. She had never realized how sensitive her breasts could be until now; they had always seemed a hindrance to her in times past. Perhaps it was because she had never had anyone worship them the way that Malfoy was at this moment—reverently and completely, his mind on them alone and nothing else.

It was true—he was doing just that. Worshiping Hermione's breasts. Savoring the feel of her softness against the angles of his cheeks and chin, the scent of her lingering in his nostrils. Listening to the soft mewling sounds that she made when he did something that she particularly enjoyed. He rubbed his cheek against her skin and watched her face, open and completely enraptured by the feelings that he was eliciting with just his hands, teeth, and tongue.

One hand went around her back to hold her closer to him, resting on the curve of her arse; the other smoothed down her torso to the outside of her thigh. She arched her pelvis and the mouthwatering scent of her arousal rose to tease his nose with promise.

His wandering fingers found the silken skin of her inner thigh and brushed against something slick and hot. Wet. She was so wet that it was trailing down her thighs. He raised his eyes to look at her face and found her looking down on him with a smile that took his breath.

Her hand reached and pointed him, her thighs widened and he was inside her.

An amalgam of thoughts coalesced in his mind. Hot. Wet. Slippery. Tight. He couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t make a sound other than a throaty groan. His eyes widened as he took in the sensation of being surrounded, engulfed by her pussy. She only smiled.

When she started to move, it all came apart. All thought flew out of his head and all coherence was gone. The only thing left of him was the part that was connecting him to her, sliding in and out with each movement of her hips as she rocked her pelvis against his. A dull roar of pounding blood filled his ears; his eyes drank in the sight of her, riding his cock and enjoying it, her breasts bobbing above him and her eyes closed in concentrated ecstasy.

He found his hands had slipped down to the curve of her hips, not moving her but holding on for dear life. She used his tie to keep her balance, the other hand on his shoulder as she moved back and forth, sawing her clit against the length of him. When he seemed completely lost, out of his mind and body, she shook him a little and he opened his eyes.

“Draco, fuck me.” Without losing her grip on him, she dropped and rolled, bringing her with him until he rested on top of her. He was in control now, or so he thought.

Experimentally, he moved his hips slowly, savoring the feeling of her skin slipping and slithering against his. His eyes drifted closed, then flew open again when she cut off his air with a twist of her hand. “I said fuck me. We…you and I…we don’t make love, we fuck, and that’s exactly what I want right now.”

Her words made him angry and he put it all into the force behind his hips. “Fine. You want fucked, you’re gonna get fucked, Hermione.”

“Yesssss.” That single word hissed from between her parted lips as he began to bludgeon her with his body, his cock driving deep inside to hit bottom and batter against her cervix. He gritted his teeth with the effort and to keep him focused on that anger; if that was what the bint wanted, it’s exactly what she would get.

He grabbed one knee, then the other, hooking them over his elbows and bending her nearly double. “Do you like this, Hermione? Do you like it when I fuck you into the ground like this?”

She brought his face closer with his tie once again. “Yes…I like it. Fuck me, Draco. Fuck me hard. Make me sore. Make me remember that I fucked a ferret like you.”

“This…isn’t…a…ferret…cock, bitch.” He was moving faster now, his ballsack slapping violently against her arse. She pushed her tits together and he flicked the hard nipples with his tongue, then grabbed one between his teeth, biting down until he heard her squeal. He started to loosen his grip and she shook her head, her hair flying around her face wildly.

“God, don’t stop…almost there, don’t stop…please don’t stop, Draco…”

He was afraid that if he used any more pressure he would bite it right off, so he switched to the other side, gripping it with his teeth and slowly building the pressure until he saw her eyes open wide and her fist clenching around the green and silver fabric. “God, now!” she yelled, and he bit down hard at the same time that he ground his pelvic bone against hers, buried to the hilt, and felt her pussy spasm around him wildly.

She stiffened, her legs locking around his neck and her grip faltering on the tie in her fist. He thought for a moment that she was going to choke him to death; black spots danced in front of his eyes and he could feel the whole world drifting away on a dark, hazy cloud. She let go and his orgasm rushed through him and he was gasping for air as he came hard, harder than he ever remembered coming before. His hips moved involuntarily, jerking spasmodically as he jettisoned his load deep inside her. Her legs unlocked and he fell on top of her as they came down around his sides, tucking behind his calves as she continued to flutter around his spent cock.

He could have sworn he passed out, because the next thing that he heard was her voice. “Malfoy…Draco, wake up. Draco? Are you all right?”

Her hands were soothing on his back and face, brushing the clinging hair away from his sweaty brow. He wanted to lie there forever, blood purity be damned. This was a woman that could fill his sexual needs and then some—if only for that one little thing…

“Draco, come on, this isn’t funny.” He heard the stern tone of her voice through the vortex and lifted his head to look down at her.

“Sorry. It was…intense.”

She gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry about the tie thing. I got a little carried away.”

He smiled. Not smirked, not smarmy nor controlling, but a true smile that seemed to light his face from within. “I…kind of liked it.”

She smiled back, then pushed at his shoulder. “Can you get off me now? You’re a little heavy.”

He pouted as he rolled off of her. “Aw, I was enjoying it.”

She sat up and looked at her nipples, examining them for breaks in the skin. “Um…I still hate you, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“You still hate me, don’t you?” She looked down at him almost fearfully. He smiled up at her again.

“I think that hate is a pretty strong word, don’t you? Maybe…dislike. Yeah, I dislike you.”

She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, then nodded. “Maybe I don’t quite hate you either. Maybe I just…dislike you too.”

He ran a finger down her back and she shivered. “Can we do this again?

She cocked an eyebrow over her shoulder. “I thought I told you the last time…” she started and he put a fingertip over her mouth.

“You did. But I told you that it would happen again. Mordred’s bane, Hermione, I would like to fuck you once on my terms.”

She looked askance at his request, then turned thoughtful. “No humiliation?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“No domination? No submission? No name-calling or pain?” He shook his head negatively to each of these.

She faked a pout. “Where’s the fun then?” His eyes widened until he realized that she was teasing.

“My wizard oath, no kinky stuff. Just me and you and a bed.” He placed his hand on his wand and the tip glowed green to bind him to it. “Is that sufficient?”

She thought for another long moment and he was afraid that she would turn him down. “All right. We can’t make a habit of this, you know. It would turn the school on its ear—not to mention make Ron have an apoplectic fit.”

“I think that Weasley has already done that earlier. So, you and me? An appointment?”

“All right. And Draco?”

“Yes?”

“Next time, we’re taking the tie off.”

He couldn’t help himself—he laughed.