Vanish

She breathed in his smell - his expensive cologne, his own musk - like deep winter.

"Finite," she mumbled, and he all but kicked her off of him. He stared at her for an infinite moment.

"The fuck is wrong with you, mudblood?"

"Draco," she said, crawling to him, suddenly aware of her bare chest. "Please, you're in over your head. You're only sixteen, and you shouldn't be a Death Eater. What's happened to you is not your fault." He got to his feet and towered over her. He bent until she cowered beneath him.

"You know, at first, I thought you were just bloody naive, but now I think I understand. All those times with Potter, with Weasel, Weasel's little sister, you were just fucking with their heads, weren't you? Hermione Granger, at the top of her class, found another tool to dazzle and control between her bloody legs."

He stalked past her.

"Malfoy, Draco, please!" She called, tears pricking at her eyes. 

"Fuck," she whispered to herself.

A muggleborn kissing a Dark Mark. That was probably a first, unless under duress or torture. She pushed her palms into her eyes to stop tears from forming. His words pulsed through her head. Had she been fucking with Harry and Ron's heads? Harry certainly thought she'd been fucking with Ron. Her brain hurt. It felt like as she got older, people just became more and more complex. She wasn't used to feeling so wrong all the time.

She looked up at the cabinet. In her gut, she knew that whatever Malfoy was doing could turn the tide of the whole damn war Voldemort was trying to wage. If she let him go now, she'd never get him back.

And he bloody saw her. He saw her intensity and understood it - he didn't just try to exploit it like Ron or Harry or everyone else. Hermione stood on shaking legs and climbed back up to the top of the cabinet. She hoisted onto it and even flipped up the back of her skirt. He'd be back eventually, and she'd wait for him.

After thirty minutes of running everything she knew about him on a loop in her brain, she finally decided to summon Herpo, the foul from her bag. She returned to the section on his creation of a basilisk.

"After being exiled, Herpo survived by squatting in an abandoned farmhouse. He alleges that he stole chickens and produce from a neighboring hamlet to survive. After two years, whether by accident or experimentation, he created a basilisk by hatching an egg beneath a toad. He raised the monster and set it loose on the academy that shunned him."

The text didn't elaborate past that. But it didn't make sense to Hermione - How had Herpo survived raising a basilisk? One look in their eyes was enough to kill you. She dropped the book to the cage below and flipped onto her back. He couldn't have been petrified repeatedly, especially if he was alone. He had to have died at least once, right? How had Herpo cheated death?

She reached beneath her skirt and opened her legs to the cool air of the Room of Requirement. She'd been so close to finishing that she now ached. She rubbed her fingers along her clit, but after several minutes gave up. She rolled back onto her stomach, rested her hands on the edge of the cabinet,  and felt her eyelids grow heavy. He'd been a parseltongue, just like Voldemort, just like Gaunt…

Sleep overtook her.

"Granger," she heard as though far off.

"Granger, wake up." She jolted awake. 

She looked up to see Malfoy standing over her.

"What time is it?" She asked.

"Late, or I guess early." He crouched beside her so he was level with her eyes.

"What are you doing?" He asked softly.

"Waiting for you," she said, and she shifted. She'd woken up with a righteous need between her legs. "I'd have thought that was obvious."

"We need to talk," he said, and she groaned. She didn't want to talk, didn't want to think.

"But I was a good girl for you," she whined sleepily, her face still pressed against the cabinet. "Don't I deserve to come now?"

"Fuck," he laughed, and he rested his forehead below hers. She breathed in deep the scent of his hair.

"Fair is fair, I guess." he looked up, smiled, and shook his head. He ran his thumb along her lip and stood. 

"It's been a long day. How do you want to come?" He asked as he rounded on her bare backside. 

"With you," she said, "I want you to tell me when you come so we can together."

"Alright," he said, running his hand along her backside, "but then we need to talk."

"Fuck," he said, dipping his finger inside her, "you are still so wet. Did you dream about me?" He asked.

"Oh yes," she said, "every moment you're gone, Draco, waking or asleep, all I can think about is when I'm going to get to wrap my mudblood mouth around your massive…"

"Alright," he drawled, smacking her bare arse lightly. "Salazar's heart, who even are you, Granger?" He asked. She rested her forehead on the cabinet.

"Hermione," she said, her voice smaller than she meant it to be.

He speared her with a groan, and she bucked against the sudden intrusion. He picked up a punishing pace. His hands spread her apart, and a wet thumb made its way into her arse, and Hermione felt an entirely new sensation spread throughout her body. 

"Draco, I think I'm gonna..." 

"No," he said, and he spanked her so hard the desire to come eluded her. He pulled out.

I want to watch you. What's your safe word, Granger?"

"Safe word?"

"Yes. If you say it, whatever I'm doing will stop."

"Mudblood," she said.

"No," he sighed. 

"Fine," she smiled, "Buckbeak."

"You little..." he spat. "Flipendo. " She felt herself flip onto her back. He unhooked her skirt so she wore nothing but her garter, stocking, and shoes. 

"Salazar," he said, taking a deep breath and running his hands up her thighs to her waist.

"This is absolutely fucking sexy." he said, snapping the remaining garter strap, "I want you to wear this from now on when you want me to fuck you."

"What," she chided, "you're gonna pull me into a broom closet after every potions class? What will your friends say if I wear them every day?"

"Did I say I'd fuck you every time you wore them?" 

"No," she grumbled.

He pushed back into her, and she arched her back with a groan.

"He picked up his pace, and she felt him enter her mind.

"Come, Hermione," she heard him say within her. 

"But are you?" She thought back.

"Now," he said, and she felt the wave break over her. After so long waiting and wanting, it hurt, lighting every nerve on fire. But even as she felt it wane, he didn't slow.

"Again, Hermione," he demanded, and his free hand found the mound above her swollen clit.

She didn't have time to argue before the second wave crashed over her, longer and stronger than the first. She shuddered.

"Once more, Hermione."

"I can't! " she thought.

"You will."

And she did. Behind her, she felt Draco spasm and heard him cry out  

"Hermione."

He slowed and pulled out. She felt him gush down her legs.

"Scourgify," he whispered, and she felt a sensation that made her shiver up her spine.

He took her hand and helped her sit up. 

"You did so well," he said, pulling her to his chest. He rocked with her, and Hermione felt the tears she'd worked so hard to stop spill down her face.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"You can't help what you saw," he said.

"Yes, but I could have told you."

He kissed the top of her head.

"We both know that's not true."

"I don't want to manipulate people."

He leaned back and bent to look into her eyes.

"You are too clever, too frank, too much of a know-it-all, and too bloody right all the time to not have people want to follow you."

"I'm not right all the time," she scoffed.

"No, you're not, and it's a damned disaster when you're not 'cause half the school, hell, half the wizarding world, expects you to save the day and let Potter take all the credit for it. Which is easier for them because otherwise, they'd have to see you. And you're too much, Hermione, you're too bloody much."

She broke into deeper sobs, and he pulled her closed.

He held her as she made a mess of the front of his shirt. Finally, her sobs turned to shivered hiccups.

"Pet, did you tell anyone what you saw?" He asked in that same, even quiet voice. She shook her head, and he sighed.

"Are you ok?" He asked. She swallowed and nodded.

"Words, Granger."

"I'm alright," she whispered, "But wait, what are you doing with the cabinet?"

"Later. You look exhausted. Let's get you to bed." he said. "It's Sunday, so you can sleep in."

"That's right, Sunday," she said groggily as he took her hand and helped her down to the floor of the Room of Requirement.

He put her bra around her shoulders and hooked the strap in the back, then kissed her neck. He held her shirt behind her so she could put her arms through and shrug it onto her shoulders, and he rounded on her to watch her button the front.

"Where are my knickers?" She asked, and he smirked.

"Safe in my trunk in my dormitory." 

"Damnit, Malfoy, I'm going to run out of cute ones if you keep stealing them."

"So we're back to Malfoy, are we?"

"I don't know…I don't know where we are." They stood in silence for a moment, and Hermione felt dead on her feet.

"Come on, I'll walk you back."

"Didn't you come back to work on the cabinet, though?" She asked.

"You are nothing if not bloody relentless, Granger."

"So we're back to Granger."

"Come on," he said, reaching out his hand. 

She took it, and together, they walked out into the hall. 

He held her hand as they walked through the empty castle, and for a moment, she imagined the halls full of students. In her fantasy, some were jealous of the gorgeous man she had next to her, but most were ambivalent, like it was no big deal they were together. But before long, they were back at the portrait of the fat lady. 

She pulled him back into the shadows and pulled down his neck to kiss him. For once, she allowed her intensity to pour from every part of her into someone else.

They broke apart, her lips swollen and flushed, and just as she began to say the password for the Fat Lady, Ron appeared in the doorway.

"Hermione, where have you been? His eyes darted behind her to where Malfoy was quickly turning to leave. 

"Oy! Get out of here, you creepy git!" He called after him. 

"Did you know he was there?" 

"No. Fell asleep in the library," she offered, with a forced yawn.

"Again? Blimey. Well, I'm off to the pitch to practice. Get some sleep, eh? You look like you got shagged by a horntail."

She nodded and dragged herself to her dorm.