A House Divided

One Year Post-War

 

“Why do I always have to cast the charm, Malfoy?”

 

Any effort to do as Hermione demanded would be hampered by her breast in his mouth and this particular charm required his full attention and pronunciation.

 

“Because I don’t care. You’ve delayed giving me an answer and I’m tired of playing silly buggers waiting for you to decide. Either end this and leave me here unsatisfied or cast it yourself.”

 

The first words of the charm came out sounding more like “Unhh…” followed by a sensuous groan than they did like the contraceptive charm. With some effort Hermione did finish the spell before Draco loaded her up with enough Malfoy seed to get the entire witch population of Scandinavia pregnant with beautiful blonde-haired aristocrats.

 

“Malfoy, I swear if you get a child on me I will make you suffer!”

“More than I already do being around you, Granger?”

 

The *thump* from her fist raised a lump and a bruise on the pale skin of his chest.

 

“Yes! Despite our constant bickering and your inability to admit I’m right most of the time when we argue, I will marry you out of spite and give birth to the first half-blood Malfoy Gryffindor!”

 

Rubbing his sore chest, Draco leaned back in the bed and gazed at her in a manner that confused the hell out of the brightest witch of her generation.

 

“Then I hope I’ve scored one in the old womb. Flitwick was telling me at last week’s board meeting that Slytherin’s recruiting classes have been quite small — thanks to Durstrang’s recruiting. Apparently the sorting hat hasn’t been getting the right kind of candidates, what with all those war heroes producing more Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.”

“Because we’re smarter and braver,” she smugly explained.

“Incorrect conclusion, princess. It’s because you shag like rabbits —”

“— says the man with his hand in my crotch for the fifth time today —”

“— and you lot are too incompetent to cast the contraception charm properly two times in a row.”

 

Had Hermione not been focused on opening her legs wider to give his talented and inventive hand room to pleasure her, she’d have punched him again. As it was she settled for giving the head of his rather larger cock a warning squeeze.

 

“And a Gryffindor could never come from my seed, Lioness.”

 

Despite the joy Draco elicited with his fingers, Hermione barked a scoffing “Ha!” out before groaning once again in sheer enjoyment. “Destination Orgasm” lay ahead and Draco had every intention of taking advantage of it when she arrived.

 

“So I take it,” he spoke between tongue kisses that had her rubbing his cock in anticipation, “that you doubt my ability to achieve this lofty goal to repopulate the ranks of Slytherin House at Hogwarts?”

“Yeeesss,” she drawled out, so close to a climax that it almost ached.

“Want to make a wager on that?” he proferred — and stopped stimulating her.

“Please don’t stop! ‘m close…” she whinged.

 

Merlin! I love it when she begs!

 

“What do I get if I continue? Will you help me with my cause?” he prompted while returning his hand to her service.

“Gods, Malfoy! You keep this up and I’ll help you fill Slytherin House! Right there!”

“Promise?”

“YES! Now shut it and finish what you started!”

 

As her release arrived simultaneously to that weird warming sensation, Hermione didn’t exactly process it then. Nor did she note how much hotter (temperature-wise) Draco seemed when he entered her and rocked her world.

 

After all, she took care of her own protection…