Betting is bad for the soul

*****

Draco fidgeted with the keys, trying to find the keyhole in the dark.

“Hurry up Malfoy!” Granger said.

Draco tried to push the door to open, but it didn’t work. He threw himself against the door again, when it opened with a loud ‘click’. He stumbled into their apartment. Granger walked in as well and sunk down on the couch.

“Ugh, I’m never going to Harry’s parties again!” she wailed as she grabbed a half filled bottle of vodka from the table. She popped her feet upon the table and took a swig from the bottle.

“Fucking Potter is a menace,” Draco said as he slumped down next to Granger, “especially when he has a bottle of firewhiskey within his reach! Poor she-Weasel.”

Granger snickered.

“She can handle him! Come one, everyone can handle Harry, especially when he’s drunk!”

“Do you want to bet on that?”

“Hell no, I don’t bet with you! Or anyone for that matter! I learned my lesson!”

“Fine, fine,” the last time Granger made a bet, it turned out especially bad for her. Everyone advised her against betting with Fred and George. Granger did it anyway. She ended up giving them both a lap dance with her head as red as a tomato. “But are you saying that you could handle Potter?” Draco said while raising an eyebrow.

A pink-ish tint covered her cheeks.

“I could, yes.”

“But did you ever?” he asked while fumbling with his collar. It was getting so fucking hot in here. Unbidden, the memory of this song popped into his head,. Sung by… Elly? Melly? Oh well…,

“….I’m not going to answer that Malfoy!”

“Okay, how about a different approach then, truth or dare?” he smirked. Granger was never one to resist a challenge.

“Dare,” she said smugly.

“Fine, I dare you to take off your pants.”

Hermione gaped like a fish, then smirked.

“If that’s how you want to play it!” She struggled out of her black trousers and threw them aside. Draco let his gaze roam over her legs. Then he gasped.

“What…is that?” he asked. Granger wore some sort of contraption that didn’t look quite like normal knickers, but reminded him of his favorite pair of boxer shorts.

“It’s a muggle thing, called the lady-boxer. Sweet isn’t it!” she said while smirking smugly.

“Truth or dare Malfoy?”

“….Truth..” he said carefully.

“I have to think about it, do you want something to eat? I have the munchies!” she said as she stumbled towards the kitchen.

Draco shook his head. Some things would never change! Granger and he had been friends for a long while now; they shared a bloody apartment for Merlin’s sake.

He took a large swig from the vodka bottle.

Not long after the Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn’t-Die slaughtered Voldemort, Draco befriended Potter. It had seemed unlikely, but there they were. Chums, mates, whatever you like to call it. They went to each others parties and had lunch together. Most parties ended like this one, getting pissed and trying to find the right way back home. Luckily he had Granger, she always knew where to do, no matter how drunk she was.

And he had to admit, she was bloody pissed right now.

He turned around and glanced at the kitchen. He saw Hermione busy with the coffee machine. It was a bloody handy machine, even though, when she first introduced it, he had been firmly against it. Who needed a bloody coffee machine? Then they fought and fought some more, but compromised in the end: the coffee machine would receive a trial period of one week in which he could convince Draco of his worth.

Draco even gave it a name: Marvin. Because Marvin was white and made depressed noises when he was grinding beans.

He watched Granger from afar, admiring her lovely legs and plump thighs. Granger was fucking beautiful, even for a best friend he couldn’t help but wonder what she hid underneath her shirt. If her legs were anything to come by, she would have fantastic tits.

Draco sighed dreamily. If only…

Granger stumbled back with a mug of coffee in her hands and dropped down on the couch.
“Okay I have a question,” she said. Draco did his best not to glance at her legs. “How many girls did you sleep with?”

Draco swallowed. This was going to be uncomfortable.

“Why do you want to know? Trying to compare me to your record?”

“You’re evading the question. Answer,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Two,” he said, waiting for her merciless laughter.

Instead of laughing, she looked surprised.

“Really? Wow, who knew! I didn’t see that one coming Malfoy. How come?”

Draco thought for a moment, then took another swig from the bottle.

“Because of you,” he said. Hermione stared at him.

“Whu-whut?” she stuttered.

Draco smirked.
“You heard me, because of you,” he paused for dramatic effect, “how many girls do you think that would want to spend the night with a man who lives together in once house with a woman? Let alone get into a relationship with said man.”

Granger huffed.

“Truth or dare?” he asked.

“Truth…, but don’t you dare ask anything embarrassing!” she said.

“You know you have to answer! Did you sleep with Potter? Could you ‘handle’ him?” he winked.

“Oh Merlin,” she muttered while looking at the ceiling. “You’re not going to shut up about it are you?”

“That’s a rhetorical question Granger.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll tell you! But only if you swear never to tell him I’ve told you,” she slurred a bit, clearly the coffee (she probably put Baileys in it, he would bet his entire savings account on it) was affecting her. “I’ve slept with Harry, I was his first.”

Draco snickered.

“I knew it- Hold on, does that mean he wasn’t your first?”

“Of course not, that was Victor,” she visibly shuddered. “God, never again I tell you, never sleep with Bulgarians!”

“I guess I’ll take your advice to heart Granger,” he said drily. “So how was Potter?”

“Drunk as hell,” she laughed, “it was awful. It was during our seventh year, Ron had just left us behind. So there we were, two teenagers in mortal peril, alone in a tent. You can imagine what hormones does to you in such a situation. So we grabbed the nearest bottle of alcohol, which happened to be a very foul tasting liquor from Mr. Weasley, and drank it all in a few swigs. And then we went at it like bunnies!” Granger clearly liked talking about it. “It was awkward at first, but after the first few minutes we were able to forget all about the war, Ginny, Ron,” she stared into space.

“So you both cheated on your then girl-, boyfriend?” Draco had trouble believing it. Both Granger and Potter were way to holy to cheat.

“Well, technically, Ron broke up with me the moment he left us to fend for ourselves. And Harry and Ginny weren’t really together at that point!”

Draco snickered.

“How was the morning after?”

“Awkward! Honestly, I’ve never been so embarrassed! We both looked at each other sheepishly, blushed, then laughed. Pff-,” she let out a gush of breath, “then we decided this was a onetime fling. It’s an inside joke really. We had good arguments though!”

“Arguments for shagging each other?” Draco raised his eyebrow.

“Of course! Come one, Harry was the Boy-Who-lived and he was a bloody virgin! The prophecy clearly stated that neither could live while the other one survived. Which meant that Harry thought his chances of surviving the bloody war were rather slim. No one wants to die a virgin Malfoy!’

“You seem to have given this a lot of thought Granger. What did you then-boyfriend say?”

She blushed some more and took a careful sip of coffee.

“He didn’t know. Harry and I never told Ron and Ginny.”

Draco laughed.

“That’s rich! And you think the Slytherins are cheating bastards? Hell, I’ve never cheated on anyone!”

“That has a reason Malfoy, you never had a long lasting relationship,” she said drily.

He ignored her.

“So, any other popular or famous guys you shagged?”

She seemed to think for a moment.

“Oliver Wood, also a onetime fling. It was fun while it lasted,” she said shrugging. “What about you Malfoy?”

“Oh, no one of interested apparently, or else you would have met her,” he said.

“What about people you would like to shag?” she asked with a goofy grin.

“Pff, I don’t know Granger. Unlike you, I don’t think of shagging every day!’

“Oh come on, I can hear you moan when you’re wanking! Don’t give me that, I know you think about sex a lot! Hell, you do it every night!"

Draco blushed.

“Well, let’s talk about your little friend in your underwear drawer Granger? What’s his name again?”

Granger blushed and Draco smirked. ‘Her little friend’ was ten inches tall, purple and named Tarzan. “So who would you like to shag?” he asked her.

Suddenly her head snapped up. She put her cup down on the table and shifted closer to him. With a sly smile on her face she suddenly straddled him, sitting right on his crotch.
He let out a gasp of surprise.

“I’d like to fuck you,” she said simply, while staring intently in his eyes. Slowly, very slowly she started to move her hips in a rhythmic motion. Draco moaned.

“What the fuck are you doing Granger,” he said. He had a rough time here, the friction was driving him crazy and he didn’t forget the ‘lady-boxers’. Her hair was mussed up and her blouse was crumpled.

“I want to fuck you,” she whispered in his ear. He shuddered.

Granger kissed his neck, showered it with light kisses. She moved down to his collar bone and flicked her tongue over it. Draco found that he had a hard time breathing as Granger moved lower and lower.

She unbuttoned his blouse carefully, kissing his chest and stomach. With a firm pull, she unbuckled his belt. Draco was panting, his head thrown back.

When she pulled his pants from his bottom, he started to worry. What the hell was he doing, with Granger of all people? He wasn’t experienced with field work! Only theory and fantasy!

When Granger wrapped her plump lips around the head of his cock, all coherent thoughts fled from his mind. His hands twitched with the need to touch her. He fisted one hand in her wild hair.

“Fuck…Granger,” he muttered breathless. She did amazing things with her tongue as she bobbed up and down. Suddenly she pulled away. “What the-…”

“Sssh,” she put her finger on his lips. With a saucy grin she stood up and turned around. Draco was wondering what in the world name she was doing, when she suddenly bent over and slowly pulled her knickers down. His eyes were glues to the scene before him. He had always known that Granger had a sexy body, but, holy hell, to see it for himself was a revelation.

He quickly stood up, determined not to let Granger control this. He pushed her down on the couch and kneeled in between her legs. Granger was still wearing her bloody blouse, and in an odd and twisted way it made her look so sexy.

Draco’s eyes rolled back in his head when he buried himself inside her warm quim. Her long, drawn out moan filled their living room.

He loved her hard and she seemed to enjoy every second of it. She moaned and panted as he thrust faster and faster, desperate for that sweet release.

When the tidal wave hit him, his eyes rolled back once more and his toe’s curled.

“Come for me…” he heard her pant. Sweat rolled down his chest as he rutted mercilessly inside her, riding her hard as he rode out his waves of ecstasy.

He collapsed on top of her, breathing hard.

“Holy..-,” he started.

“Sssh,” she said again as she put her finger against his lips. “Lets go to bed.” She smiled.
When they laid in bed, Draco closed his eyes. He felt so peaceful after a large amount of alcohol and a very, very good shag.

Just when he was about to fall asleep, he heard Granger whisper.

“Told you so Fred! Or George, I don’t care. I did it, he’s in my bed right now. I won this bloody bet, so owe up suckers!”

Draco smiled. Clearly she hadn’t learnt her lesson yet. He should teach her a lesson she would never forget…


*****