Vanish

Hermione hated Quidditch, but it was a lovely day, and she'd promised Ron she'd see him try out. The breeze off the lake rustled her hair, and a subtle warming charm heated the wooden bleacher below her, even as the sunshine cooled the late fall air.

She'd skimmed through Curses and Counter Curses again and found nothing that resembled what had happened to Dumbledore's hand. She'd spent the night before in the library until the sun began to rise over the lake, looking through every book on curses she could find.

For the past week, any time Malfoy or Pansy tried to catch her gaze, she'd darted her eyes away. She hadn't even pulled Harry into a broom closet. She was newly committed to the cause, to her schoolwork, free of distractions.

She closed Curses and Counter Curses, not expecting to find anything anyway, and opened Herpo the Foul: A Twisted Life.

She didn't know why, but the library refiled Herpo the Foul on her shelf even after she'd put it back in the stacks. Since it had intuited her desire to learn Occlumency, she continued to flick aimlessly through the strange book, hoping something would jump out.

She fumbled the missing pages for the hundredth time and whispered.

"Finite"

to no avail.

"Hey, Hermione!" 

She turned her head to see Lavender huffing up the stands. Her pink cheeks and nose brought out the blue in her eyes.

"Here to watch tryouts?"

"Yeah," she smiled, "I told Ron I'd come for moral support. He's pretty nervous, not that he'd ever admit it."

Lavender sat next to Hermione and draped a tartan blanket over their legs, and handed her a thermos of warm cider to share.

They sat in silence for a moment while the team flew in groups around the pitch. Hermione could feel the warmth off Lavender's legs and quietly canceled the warming charm beneath them.

"How's Pavarti holding up this morning?" She asked.

Pavarti had fallen into the girls' dormitory in shambles two nights before. Her parents wanted to pull her and her sister from school. Hermione sympathized wholly. She understood why her parents wanted their daughters home, but she also knew how isolated she'd feel if her own parents insisted she leave her friends—leave the fight. 

Not well at all." Lavender shook her head, "she doesn't want to leave, obviously, but there's not much she can do, and Padma wants to go."

"Really?" Hermione turned to face the girl, eyebrows knitted. Padma had been a force to be reckoned with in the DA.

"Yeah," Lavender continued, Padma never really fit in with the other Ravenclaws, and she's never loved it here. I think it would be a relief."

"Oh, I didn't know that."

"I mean, she had to go with Ron to the Yule ball, remember?"

"Oh, I remember." She laughed with Lavender, who remembered Ron's ridiculous dress robes and how the two boys sulked the whole night. But the smile pricked the corner of Hermione's eyes when she remembered the rest of that night.

"Alright, McClaggan, you're up!" Yelled Harry. A handsome 7th-year boy Hermione had noticed once or twice in the common room zoomed up to the goalposts.

"He's quite fit," mused Lavender.

"I suppose,"

"He stares at you in the Great Hall sometimes," 

"You're joking!"

"I'm not! Pavarti pointed it out to me."

Hermione looked at the boy flying above with new interest. He was well built, with a rather plain but not unattractive face. And he could fly well.

"I don't know if I could date another Quidditch player," she said.

"I forgot you dated Viktor Krum! How did I forget that?" Lavender squealed.

Hermione laughed. "It was pretty short-lived."

Lavender turned to Hermione, eyes entirely off the game. 

"What was that like?" She asked.

"Sort of amazing," Hermione sighed, "sort of awful."

Cormac was an excellent flier, probably better than Ron. She eyed Lavender to make sure she wasn't looking.

"Confundus," she thought, attempting her first long-distance nonverbal spell. To her amazement, Cormac veered off to the left. Well, that was a relief. Ron would make the team, and if she decided to date Cormac, he wouldn't be another Quidditch-obsessed pain in her…"

"Did you have to deal with…like, paparazzi and stuff?" Lavender pressed. Hermione almost laughed at how wide Lavender's blue eyes had become. 

"Outside of Rita Skeeter, no. We mostly spent time at his estate where the press wasn't allowed."

Lavender gasped.

"No way, really? You saw his estate? Why didn't I know any of this?"

"We broke up at the end of the summer before fifth year."

"Right…" She looked back at the game, crestfallen, "Why did you break up?"

"I didn't want to do long distance, and we didn't have a ton in common outside of shagging, and" Hermione sighed, "I thought I liked someone else."

Later that evening, Hermione sat with Ron and Harry on an oversized couch near the hearth in the common room. The fire had begun to burn low, and it would continue to do so until morning - a subtle trick by the school to make them go to bed. 

"No sign of McClaggan," Ron said, and he yawned into a stretch that left his arm behind Hermione's head. She was rewriting his essay, and only half registered the gesture. Harry however didn't, and he smiled.

"Guess he must be off crying somewhere," he said, and he feigned a yawn.

"Well, I'm heading up to bed."

After several seconds of silence, Hermione looked up to see only her and Ron remained in the common room.

"Alright, I think that'll do," she said, handing the parchment back to Ron. He touched his wand on the parchment, and the letters transformed to match his handwriting.

"You, as always, are a lifesaver."

He turned to look at her with half-lidded eyes and a wide smirk. He was so close all of a sudden, she could count each and every freckle.

"You really did fly well today," she said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah? Well, I felt luckier with you out in the stands." He coiled a curl around his finger.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

The night after, the yule ball came flooding back to her.

He found her in the common room crying in a corner as the last giggling students made their goodnights. 

"Hermione," he whispered, reaching up and wiping her tears with the lace on the cuff of his dress robes. She still wore her dress, but the blowout had long turned to frizz.

"Hermione, I'm sorry," he said, and she looked up at him. 

"Why aren't you with Vicky?" He asked.

She shook her head, and a new flood of tears fell from her eyes. Her emotions had completely terrified Victor, who suddenly seemed to not speak a lick of English. He'd merely kissed her through her tears and said goodnight.

"Hey," Ron said, come on," and he leaned in and kissed her.

She deepened the kiss and pressed herself to him. He smelled like mothballs, but she didn't care. It was him, and she'd liked him for so long. She brought his hand to her breast and urged him to squeeze. 

He trailed his hand down her back and grabbed her ass, pulling her into him. She could feel him harden against her.

He lifted her leg, and she rested her foot on a nearby couch. All of the night's excitement and disappointment sparked through her in dizzying waves. 

His fingers fought with the length of her skirt until he parted the fabric and pressed his fingers to her knickers.

He moved quickly, rubbing his fingers against her clit with imprecise speed. Still, it was the first time anyone had touched her there, and she wanted it so badly it made her pant. He entered her with a finger and continued to rub her clit with breakneck speed. Within minutes, she was coming on his fingers, a quick burst of an orgasm that quickly turned to over-sensitivity.

She stopped his hand.

"Did you like that?" he whispered in her ear, still gripping her breast, which now felt sore.

"Yeah," she whispered. She kissed him, and he kissed her back, but only for a moment before he backed away, a truly self-satisfied grin on his lips.

"Goodnight, Hermione." He said, and he went up to his room. She stood there panting, more confused but shooed away the pit in her stomach. She'd gotten what she wanted, hadn't she?

But the next day, and the day after that, he'd ignored her. It was like it never happened.

She realized much later after the ball, when she had a few more orgasms under her belt, why their moment had made her feel so hollow. It was as though each movement was something Fred and George had coached Ron on, determined their little brother wouldn't embarrass them by being bad in bed. It hadn't been for her, not really. At best, it had been an apology.

But now, two years later, he was kissing her again. He grabbed her waist and moved her beneath him so they lay together on the couch. He kissed down her neck and removed her tie. She'd lost her jumper hours ago, so all it took was fumbling with the buttons of her shirt before she was bare before him. 

"Merlin, you're so fucking hot, Hermione," he said, and he pulled down the cup of her breast and licked the nipple. She bucked beneath him.

His hand made its way up her thigh and under her knickers.

"Can you go slow?" She asked. Krum had always loved when she told him what she liked. He treated her like a Quidditch pitch and knew a hundred plays to make her come.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he murmured. 

"Mmm," she said, and he moved her hand to the bulge in his pants. 

"Hold on," she said.

She summoned a blanket and levitated it over them, not wanting to flash any last-minute wanderers. She fumbled with his buckle and finally made her way in. His cock was hard and warm, and he touched her just how she liked.

"You're so fucking dirty, I love it," he said, and she fumbled, just for a moment.

"You like my cock?" He said. Even now, all these years later, it felt like the Weasley twins were in the room and not in the way she'd fantasized about.

So, he was inexperienced. That wasn't his fault.

"I love your cock," she played along.

"So much you'd suck my cock?"

She stopped stroking him.

"I don't know, Ron, we're in the middle of the common room,"

"You sucked Harry's cock," he said in between kisses. 

She mastered the embarrassed anger that flooded her. Logically he was right, and she loved sucking cock, didn't she? And she was a Gryffindor - by right, she wouldn't deny a challenge.

Plus, he'd surely tell Harry, who'd be thrilled they finally got together. And Ron would stop bugging her about her birthday present to Harry. Maybe she could put this whole thing to rest.

"Yeah, sure, fine, Ronald."

She got to her knees on the floor and positioned her wand so she could confund anyone who wandered in.

He looked like a kid in a candy shop, and that made her smile.

She brought him into her mouth and loved the new shape and taste. She hummed her approval and looked up to see his eyes closed, his lip between his teeth, his face flushed, and freckles as red as his hair. 

"Watch me," she commanded, and he opened his eyes.

"You like being watched, you little slut?" He asked. She stopped dead with his cock still in her mouth. She slipped him out and pumped him with her fist.

"Can you, maybe, not call me that?"

"But you are, you're my dirty little slut sucking my cock." She sighed and cocked her head.

"Call me your dirty little girl. I like that better."

She took him back in her mouth and pumped him twice before saying

"Or better yet, call me, um, your good girl,"

He gave her an odd look.

"My dirty girl who loves sucking my cock. Who's also, um, good."

She rolled her eyes and returned him to her mouth.

"Dirty girl works," she mumbled, her mouth full.

"Oh yeah, dirty girl, take that cock."

He pushed into her throat, and she gagged a little. She started moving up and down faster. Tuning out his dirty talk and enjoying the feeling in her mouth.

"Can I come on your face?" he asked.

" No, " she garbled, and finally she tasted warm salt. 

"That was fuckin awesome, Hermione," he said as he tucked himself away, and she got to her feet. The awkwardness of the encounter wiped away when she saw his satisfied face, his freckles in the dim firelight, his blue eyes lidded with sleepy satisfaction.

She buttoned up her shirt and grabbed her jumper.

"Goodnight, Ronald." 

Hermione packed up her bag in the empty common room. They weren't sexually compatible, that was all. And at least now he'd stop bugging her about finding her and Harry together, and she could tell Harry that they'd tried, and it hadn't worked out. She climbed up to the girl's dormitory to find Lavender still awake. Parvati snored lightly in her own bed, the curtains drawn.

"Hermione, good. I actually wanted to ask you a question," Lavender whispered, and she shifted onto the end of Hermione's bed. She bit her lip.

"Oh sure, what's up?"

"Are you and Ron, you know,"

"Oh, no!" Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Lavender's posture made her think she was about to say something worse, like to do with Pavarti and Padma. Lavender let out her own sigh of relief and laughed.

"That's good, he's gotten cute, don't you think?"

"Oh, I don't know. It's hard when they're your best friend, you know?"

"I guess, although Harry has also gotten…"

"Yeah," Hermione agreed and laid back against her pillow. She could still taste Ron in her mouth. She didn't need to tell Lavender now, though, right?

"I don't know, though," she said, "I spend so much time doing their damn homework, keeping them out of trouble, putting ideas in their heads just to keep them from walking off cliffs,"

"Boys are stupid," Lavender laughed, and Hermione joined. It cast a light, easy glow on the whole awkward, confusing evening.

She couldn't sleep. Her sheets felt wrong against her skin and her brain felt wrong inside her skull.

She hated the idea of going back to being sexless - celibate . To go from both Harry and Malfoy, and now Ron to no one, again?

She'd liked hooking up with Ginny in the moment, but in retrospect it just made her feel guilty. She was with Dean, Ron's sister, Harry liked her, she only came onto her when she was drunk. There was always Cormac, but he'd never shown any real interest, only what Lavender said.

But the year-long break between Victor and Harry now felt like an eternity. Being with someone, well, shagging, helped her think straight.

Well that certainly hadn't proven to be true.

Still, even now her body fought her. She had too much energy, and she hated that she couldn't go out for walks at night at Hogwarts like she could at home. She loved a 2am walk in the summer air around her neighborhood, but even as a prefect, she'd get in trouble at this hour. She listened as Lavender's breathing joined Pavarti's and decided staying in her bed was not an option.

She put on her slippers and jumper and crept out the door to the boy's staircase. It truly wasn't fair that she could sneak into their room and not vice versa. She held her breath as she peeked into the sixth-year boy's room, but to her relief, everyone was asleep. They each had their curtains drawn, so no one even rustled when she summoned the invisibility cloak.

It shimmied from Harry's bag and flew into her arms.

She pulled the cloak tight against the chill of the empty halls. The Slytherins were on patrol duty tonight but should be finished by now. Only a teacher could give her any grief.

She heard loud steps approaching in the dark. She held her breath and pushed against the wall. In the flickering candlelight, Draco Malfoy came into view. He stalked past her. She shouldn't follow. She shouldn't - there was nothing good he could be doing at this hour. But it was strange for him to be in this corridor - near the astronomy wing. and nowhere near the Slytherin dungeons. The only thing nearby was the Room of Requirement.

She took the bait and followed.

He let himself into a classroom she didn't recognize, and she slipped in behind him.

"You're late," hissed Pansy Parkinson.

She sat on her knees in the middle of the floor, palms on her legs, head down, and completely naked. Her long, shiny black hair covered her face. The door closed behind Hermione, and she pressed herself against the nearby wall, trapped in the classroom with Malfoy and Pansy.

"Perhaps you forgot how this works, Parks," Malfoy drawled, "if I want you to speak, I'll tell you."

Yes, Draco, of course, I'm so sorry," she said, with only a hint of sincerity.

"Yes, I'm sure you are." He leaned against a desk and ran his fingers through his hair. He sighed and looked down at her.

"Alright then, since you're so impatient, make yourself come."

Hermione bit her lips together to stop from gasping.

Pansy scoffed, but she opened her legs and stroked herself a few times before pouting.

"I can't," she said, and Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Try," he said more forcefully. She sighed and began rubbing herself faster. She rolled into her touch and began to moan. Still, after a minute, she dropped her hand.

"Really, I can't."

Malfoy got to his feet and approached her, arms crossed in front of himself. She didn't look up as he began to circle her.

"And why do you think that is?"

Probably because you've been making me come three times a day since we got back."

"Mmm," he nodded.

"Not to mention," Pansy started, and Hermione could feel the tension in the room shift, "how often I got fucked over the summer," she said in the same sweet, innocent voice. Malfoy stopped before her.

"You and I were apart all summer."

"Yes, exactly, so I had fun with Teddy Knott and Blaise Zabini. I'm sure you know them," she looked up through her hair and batted her eyes.

"My roommates," Malfoy said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, that's right!" She looked up, shook her hair back, and lifted her chest so her hard nipples caught the moonlight.

"They are your roommates! Well," she brought her finger to her lips, "Teddy fucked me at a party his mum threw. We were the only people under thirty and were very bored in the garden. We fucked in a batch of devil's snare. It was amazing, tendrils everywhere. "

Hermione expected him to shout, to throw a fit of envious range, but instead, he resumed circling her.

"And Blaise?" He asked.

"Oh well, he performed in town at 'Meades End all summer. He'd flu me in for a show, and then he and I and whoever else would have it off in his dressing room. Didn't I tell you? The weird sisters came through once! Blaise mostly sat in the corner and cheered us on." Draco stopped behind her. After several moments, he said

"I must say, I'm disappointed that you won't be coming tonight."

"What?" She said, the innocence lost from her voice. He grabbed her chin and forced her face to his.

"Did you not just tell me how satisfied you were from riding my dorm mates all summer?"

"Please, Draco," she begged. 

"No,".

"Let me try again,"

"No, but," he released her, "I'm not entirely cruel, not to mention I wouldn't want to completely spoil my night, so," he shifted and sneered down at her, "you can get me off."

"You can't be serious," she said.

"Hasn't your mouth gotten you in enough trouble tonight?"

Pansy grinned and slowly shook her head. Malfoy couldn't help but twitch a smile.

"That's my final offer. Take it or leave it."

"Oh, fine ," she said, and she began to stand.

"Uhuh," he said, and she got back on her knees.

"Come," he said, and he crooked his finger.

Pansy put her hands on the floor, arched her back until she was on all fours, and crawled to Malfoy. Her breasts hung and swayed, her nipples peaked, and with each step, her stomach scrunched in a way that made Hermione swallow. 

"Very good," he said, and she returned to her seated position. 

"Now remember, my love, if you come, you will be punished."

She nodded.

"I want to hear you say it."

"If I come, I will be punished."

"Mmhm."

After what felt like an eternity, he said. 

"Alright, have at it."

Pansy tackled him.

"Blimey, Parks!" He laughed as he stumbled and nearly fell over.

She grabbed onto his belt loops and put her weight on his trousers.

"Alright, alright!" Malfoy said, and he sank to the classroom floor.

She freed him of his pants and took him into her mouth while he watched her between his knees, perched on his elbows.

Unlike Hermione, she favored quick rash strokes with her hand and mouth. She slapped him against her tongue, and he ran his hands up through her hair. He grabbed his cock, and she stopped dead, ass high in the air, tongue out, waiting. He brushed himself around her lips, her tongue, before centering himself in her, and she once again went wild.

He groaned and leaned back, palms over his eyes.

Pansy took the opportunity to crawl up him and position herself over his face. He grabbed her thighs and rocked in time with her, and she began to moan. Hermione watched him get even harder. She imagined wrapping her mouth around him, and she slipped her hand into her pajama bottoms. 

Pansy pulled off, scooted back down, and practically fell on his cock. She rode him hard and fast, and he gripped her thighs and moaned. Hermione sped up her fingers as she watched Pansy's tits bounce in wide circles. The angle of his jaw tightened as his abs and chest spasmed with each moan.

Their gasping crescendoed until it couldn't get any more desperate, and then it broke, and while it was clear that Pansy had succeeded, by their rules, she would also be punished.

Malfoy sat up and cradled her in his lap, still inside her.

"Well done, Parks," he murmured, kissing her neck.

"So what will my punishment be?" She asked, and he laughed and kissed her nipple. She jumped.

"Hmm, well, I could lock you in the restricted section all night in nothing but your knickers."

"Sounds cold."

"Punishments aren't meant to be enjoyed, my love." he said and her kissed her hard on the mouth.

"Whatever you say," she said against his mouth, and he sighed. He grabbed her chin and broke their kiss. He smirked as he said

"I could make you give Longbottom a hand in herbology class tomorrow."

"Ew, not Longbottom," she said. "What about Hannah Abbot? She's gotten fine ."

Malfoy laughed.

"I'll have to think about it." He began to kiss her breast again, "Now get to bed. Do that eight-part skincare routine you insisted on telling me about, and come three times before you fall asleep."

"Three times? But I'm tired," Pansy wined.

"Pans, you have somehow gotten brattier over the summer." He brought his eyes to meet hers. "Now, off you go. I'll check in with you tomorrow, and if you don't obey me, I'll know. "

She nodded and got to her feet. Hermione could see the glisten between her thighs. He leaned back and watched her from the floor as she dressed. The moonlight played along his lean, muscled torso and legs and cast a shadow along his cock as it lazed on his stomach. Finally, Pansy threw his pants to him. He stood and began to put them on.

"Want me to walk you back?" He asked.

"No, that's fine," she said.

"Same time next week?" She asked, and Malfoy nodded.

Pansy waved as she opened the door, and Hermione positioned herself to sneak out after her, but Pansy closed the door behind her too quickly, and Hermione accidentally rattled the nob. Malfoy's eyes flashed, and his sneer turned feral.

"That you, Potter? Damn invisibility cloak. You perverted little…"

He caught Hermione by the throat and pushed her against the wall. He ripped the cloak from her, and his wild look of hatred turned to amusement. He grabbed her wrist, pushed it by her head, and sneered. She'd been caught once again, only this time, he didn't have to go into her knickers to feel her wetness, only run his fingers along her knuckles.

He leaned in close.

"Finish what you started," he whispered.

"Huh?"

"I want another one," he grinned. 

"How do you know I didn't already,"

"I know." She rolled her eyes, and then she narrowed them.

"No," she said. He moved his mouth to her ear.

"Granger," he whispered, "Please."

He kissed her neck and bit her pulse point until she gasped. He kissed her jaw, the apple of her cheek, and finally her lips. There was no awkward meeting of teeth or tongue, just soft, delicious strokes. She grabbed his face with her free hand and pushed her tongue to his. Had she felt this electricity the first time she kissed Krum? He tasted divine.

Plus, he'd asked nicely, nearly begged. That was more than Pansy could say, or than she could say about Ron.

She felt her hand move back down beneath her knickers. She moaned against his lips, and he chuckled but didn't let up and didn't release her hand. He took each gasp into his mouth as though hungry for them. It didn't take long before she came undone beneath him.

"That's my good girl."

Hermione swallowed as she came down. His grey eyes gleamed with triumph.

"Why could she get you off and I couldn't?" Hermione heard herself say. She'd meant it to sound like a challenge, but her vulnerability had cursed it. A mortified heat crept up her throat. He looked genuinely confused.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing."

"Tell me," he said, narrowing his eyes and gripping her wrist tight. She swallowed.

"In the library, you didn't come, and...you wouldn't let me try. But you told her to make you come, and I want to know why she gets to, and I don't." She said, holding his gaze even though every part of her felt like trembling.

"Never mind," Hermione said, and she tried to pull her wrist free.

"Oh, pet," he said, and he cupped her cheek. He smiled at her. It wasn't a smirk or a sneer but a true smile, as though she'd caught him off guard.

"She and I have been going at it for years," he searched her eyes, and the smirk returned. "Don't worry, you'll get another chance."

He released her wrist, backed up, and put his hands in his pockets. He furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at her like she was another species. He bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head quickly.

"Mudbloods, I swear."

And he left her there alone in the classroom, mortified beyond repair.