Breakfast the morning before a Quidditch match was an essential part of Draco’s routine. Since his second year of school, his strict habits had proved to be rewarding. For each morning that he followed his routine, Slytherin almost always won. The times in which they didn’t… Well, he liked to say that those losses were not his fault.
He preferred to eat alone before a match, opting to sit at the far end of the table away from his rowdy housemates. Peace and quiet were essential to starting the day with a clear mind. Before him sat the key ingredients to a perfect start to a morning of a game—a steaming bowl of oatmeal, a cup of strong black tea, a piece or two of sausage, and a perfectly ripe banana. His breakfast was then followed by his second shower of the day, extra cold to stifle any remaining nerves—though he hadn’t had those since third year—and, his most recent addition, a secret, stolen kiss from Hermione Granger for good luck.
Their relationship had blossomed purely by accident. He caught her in the hall one night while she stared blankly at the statue of Salazar Slytherin near the Great Hall. The alcohol she had consumed at some Hufflepuff party was coursing through her. Her eyes were glittering and glassy in a way that had Draco licking his lips. She had run from the festivities to retreat to her own room for a desperate session of release. Draco could have guessed her intentions even if she hadn’t let the confession slip from her perfect little lips. But apparently, the gaze of the Slytherin founder had caught her attention and halted her mission of self-pleasure.
“I bet he knew how to fuck,” she had giggled.
“All Slytherins know how to fuck, Granger,” Draco replied.
She hummed—whether in agreement or satisfaction he wasn’t sure, nor did he care.
“Prove it,” she challenged.
Their one-time-thing of fucking in the alcove near the statue quickly morphed into a regular occurrence. Hermione wanted nothing more than to let him have his way with her—any time, any place, any way. And, praise to sweet Salazar himself, did Draco reap those benefits.
But his biggest rule was no sex before Quidditch. It was a rule that the Golden Girl had tried to get him to break time and time again. Orgasms were used as a reward. If he played well, he would enjoy the pleasures of letting a witch ride him like he had his broom until he painted her insides like his own personal masterpiece. If they lost, he would pound his frustrations out with relentless thrusts and snapping hips until he came with a feral growl.
In the Great Hall, Draco focused on his delicious spread of breakfast on the long table before him. The oatmeal was steaming, the sausages were glistening, and the banana was the perfect shade of bright yellow.
He knew Hermione was staring from across the room. She almost always did. But he couldn’t afford to fall for her seduction spells just hours before a game. Keeping his gaze locked onto his meal before him, he adjusted his Quidditch kit and began to eat.
About halfway into breakfast, a folded piece of parchment came zooming at Draco’s head. He grabbed it with quick reflexes as soon as he saw it from his peripheral vision, snatching the paper between his thumb and pointer finger like he would the snitch in just a few hours.
He unfolded the parchment with nimble fingers and stared at the words scribbled onto the page.
Need you. Now.
Draco looked to the other side of the hall and met her stare. Even from across the room, he could see the way her pupils were blown wide with lust. He noted the way her thighs squeezed tightly together as she shifted restlessly on top of the wooden bench. She bit her lip and met his gaze with pleading eyes.
He shook his head no.
After setting the note down, he returned his focus back to his breakfast. But when he lifted his gaze up while he sipped on his tea, he saw Hermione still staring at him. She angrily stabbed one of the sausage links on her plate, the harsh noise of metal scraping against the china piercing through the hall. Draco watched with a forced mask of indifference as the juice from the overstuffed sausages squirted onto her chin from the impact of her fork.
With her eyes still locked on him, she ran her tongue over one of her canines. Her thumb came up to swipe at the juice that trickled down her chin before she popped the pad of the digit into her mouth and sucked. Her eyelids fluttered, her pupils rolling to the back of her head as she licked finger clean.
Draco had to stifle a groan.
He scolded himself. He couldn’t succumb to her, not so close to a match. He had only broken his sacred rules once, and it nearly cost Slytherin the house cup his fifth year. He couldn’t afford to do it again, not when it was one of the last games at Hogwarts he would ever get to play.
But Hermione seemed to have different plans. He knew he hadn’t hid his reaction well, no matter how hard he tried to remain unfazed. With a smirk, she reached for the banana that lay on the table next to her cup of pumpkin juice. Instead of peeling the fruit, she held it with one hand while the other slowly worked its way from top to bottom, twisting her fist ever so slightly at the top and squeezing.
Draco imagined it was his cock, which was now steadily coming to life beneath the layers of his Quidditch uniform. He knew what her hand would feel like on him—it was one of the most euphoric things he had ever experienced.
He cursed at himself internally for letting her distract him. Yet, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. She brought the banana closer to her face and let her tongue poke out between her lips to lick at the firm peel. Once she reached the stem, she gave her tongue a few light flicks, replicating what she would have done to the head of his cock had she been sucking him off.
She reached for the stem of the banana and began to peel it open. Her movements were slow and deliberate, all the while keeping her eyes locked onto his. When her plump lips wrapped around the tip of the now-exposed fruit, Draco groaned. His breathing had begun to leave him in short, quick pants, and a bead of sweat formed over his brow.
Hermione was making this impossible. Without taking a bite, she lowered her mouth bit by bit over the curved banana. It was provocative. It was vulgar. It was obscene.
It was exactly what Draco wanted.
When she took a bite, he rose from his seat, his cutlery clattering to the table. He made his way to the other side of the hall with purpose. Once he reached her, he grabbed her elbow and pulled her from the table, ignoring her feigned protests through a mouthful of banana to finish her meal.
He would be her meal. She would be on her knees in minutes devouring his cock whole.
Draco pulled her to the 8th year dorms and into his room, never having been more grateful that those who chose to return for their final year were granted private dorms.
Without a word, he shut the door and slammed her body against it. She squeaked at the action, but her eyes radiated an insatiable desire that he couldn’t help but want to feed.
“You think you can tease me like that and get away with it, Granger?” Draco sneered.
“I did what I needed to,” she said plainly, a hint of defiance in her voice. “I needed you to fuck me. Here we are.”
Draco pushed her harder against the door, letting his lips attach to her neck. He licked and sucked and bit the skin of her throat like it was part of his breakfast. He thrust his hips against her pelvis, sighing against her neck in pleasure.
“You know my rules.”
“Fuck your rules, Malfoy,” she replied.
He growled in response before picking her up and tossing her on the bed. With a snap of his fingers, her clothes vanished, leaving her deliciously naked on his duvet. Draco began to divest his own clothing, slowly peeling off each layer of his Quidditch kit to give her a torturous show like the one he’d had in the Great Hall.
He chuckled when she whined in need. “Don’t like being teased?”
She huffed in reply and made a move to snake her hand down to her dripping cunt. Draco stopped her, grabbing her hands, placing them above her head, and keeping them there with a whispered sticking charm.
He continued to undress himself once he was sure she couldn’t move, his own eyes now glinting with desire. The whisper of his consciousness echoed in the back of his head, reminding him of his rules, but he pushed it away as he took his cock in his hand and began fisting himself to the image of her spread out on his bed for his pleasure.
“You know, Granger,” he began, walking towards her and leaning over her body writhing on the sheets, “I’ll give you credit. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted my cock to be a banana before.”
She smirked at him, and before he could realize his mistake, he felt his length shift in his grasp. He looked down in confusion and nearly fell backwards when he saw what she had done.
Where his proud, throbbing, and painfully hard cock once protruded from his pelvis was now a bright yellow banana, peel and all.
Hermione licked her lips and chuckled up at him. “Better?” she teased.
“Change it back,” he ordered, his voice stern.
She hummed and shook her head. “No. I think I like it that way. Besides, I’ve just perfected my wandless and wordless Transfiguration. I think I’ve earned a bit of a reward, don’t you agree?”
Suddenly she whispered a counter-charm to free her arms from their position above her head. Had Draco not been so caught off guard by his new member, he would have gaped at her abilities to cancel his magic with such ease. Had she just played along every time he had restrained her before? He looked down at the banana, his ego now slightly bruised along with the fruit.
On her hands and knees, Hermione crawled towards him until she was face to face with his banana-cock. Her tongue glided across her lips before sticking out and licking up the side of the fruit that was now an extension of Draco’s body. He shuddered at the feeling and chose not to watch as her lips closed around the fruit protruding from his lower half.
“If you think about it, you’re technically not breaking your rule.”
He considered her words for several moments as looked down to where she knelt before him on the bed. A wicked smile formed on her face as she glanced between his face and the banana sticking out from between his hips. It was true, he wouldn’t be fucking her with his cock, just with the… Well, that . He didn’t want to think too deeply about it. He could still feel the arousal coursing through his veins. Maybe this was a loophole.
“Fuck me with it,” she whispered.
While her words were simple, they sent a rush of arousal straight through Draco’s body. The banana bobbed slightly in agreement. He pushed any reservations from his head and looked at her with a devilish smirk.
“You’re an absolute deviant, Granger.”
She giggled when he pushed her back onto the bed. He towered over her and settled between her legs before coating what used to be his cock with her wetness, groaning at how much he could still feel. She gasped as the tip of the fruit brushed her clit, and Draco found he could take no more teasing.
With a single, fluid thrust of his hips, he sheathed the banana inside of her, sighing in bliss as she squeezed around the firm peel.
Draco found he had to keep his mind carefully in check. He couldn’t think about the fact that his cock had been transfigured into a banana, and that he was now fucking Hermione Granger with said unspeakable fruit. But he also couldn’t pretend that the monstrosity being squeezed to death by Hermione’s cunt was his own cock, either. It was complicated, and Draco found himself casting all thought away in search for his own pleasure instead. Banana-cock or not, she felt fucking fantastic.
Her moans echoed throughout the room. “Fuck, that feels amazing Malfoy,” she cried. “We need to do this more often.”
“What, fuck or Transfigure our reproductive parts into fruits?” His question came across both teasingly and sternly. There was only one right answer, after all. He snapped his hips harder, hoping she understood his meaning.
They did need to fuck more often. They did not need to do so looking like a fruit salad.
“Come on,” she managed to tease through her breathless pants of pleasure. “Have a little fun.”
With a snap of his fingers, Draco decided to have his own sadistic version of fun, taking a page out of her fucked up book. Her nipples, once pert and pink and pebbled to perfection, were now shiny purple grapes. He smirked at his handiwork, knowing the score was now even.
Hermione looked down to her bouncing breasts and let out a silent laugh at his clever magic. Her laughter quickly turned into a moan when he leaned forward and flicked his tongue against the grape on her right breast. She gasped at the feeling and pulled him closer, tugging at his hair in a silent plea for more. Draco swirled his tongue around the small fruit before sucking the whole grape into his mouth and scraping his teeth gently around the flesh.
She continued to pulse and squeeze around the banana, her walls beginning to flutter as he continued to thrust forcefully into her. His hand reached up to gently pluck the other grape.
“More!” she cried out.
Draco picked up his pace, knitting his brows at the feeling of her hips coming up to meet his own. He sat up on his knees, pulling her up with him as he held her in place and pounded into her with deep, hard thrusts. He was close. She was close. He didn’t think about the fact that they were both being brought to their climax by fucking fruit.
She clung to his shoulders and pulled him back down to her chest. He reattached his mouth to one of the grapes and sucked.
Her back arched, pressing her body closer to his own. “Harder,” she moaned. “Suck them harder.”
He bit down on the balled fruit, a little more forcefully than before, and Hermione keened in delight. He wrapped his lips around what once was her nipple and sucked in earnest. The grape popped in his mouth and sent an explosion of tart sweetness across his tongue. His mouth continued to work across her breast, spreading the juices of the decimated fruit across her skin.
Draco moved his mouth to the remaining grape on her other breast and followed the same process, this time moving his hand to cup underneath her and rub the juices into her soft flesh. He snaked a hand down to swirl over her throbbing clit as he mouth continued to tease the grape. A finger brushed the firm and slick peel of the banana that continued to disappear in and out of her core in fluid strokes.
He bit down on the grape, letting the fruit break from the pressure of his teeth. His pace began to falter as he pressed harder on Hermione’s clit and felt her walls begin to pulse around him. She came with a cry, her back arched at a nearly impossible angle. Draco followed her release soon after, choosing not to focus on the logistics of coming as a banana.
It felt like several hours before he found the courage to pull out of her warmth. With a half-hearted wave of her hand, a chill ran over him. The banana was gone, now replaced with the familiar fleshy-tone of his own member.
He chuckled at the change. “I don’t think I’m ever going to eat a banana ever again.”
Hermione rolled towards him and propped her head up on his chest, a content smile across her lips.
“I think they’re my new favorite fruit.”