Vanish

Hermione carried her shoes as she padded down the steps to the Slytherin common room entrance, the cold stone a mercy on her feet. Luna had coveted more than one dance with Hermione, which gave Harry and Cormac time to reconcile. With any luck, Harry would back off her poor decision-making under the guise that she had finally found ’a nice guy’. She thought about him making small talk with Cormac as he darted glances at Luna and herself - like he was her bloody father deciding if Cormac was enough for his little girl. Annoyance prickled through her.

She’d left Cormac at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, making an excuse to check on a friend in the hospital wing. Luckily, he hadn’t pressed her on it, which may have indicated his own waning desire to get lucky that night, or it was a side effect of being nearly concussed and immediately confunded.

“Let Draco know I’m here,” she whispered, conjuring her Patronus. The little otter skipped giddily in a circle and darted off past the door. She drifted back to a staircase away from the sconces, illuminating the massive stone serpent that would become the Slytherin common room door.

After a few minutes, the stone serpent arched, and Draco stepped out into the hall. She waved from her hiding spot in the shadows, and he sauntered to her. 

“I wasn’t sure I’d make it,” she bit her lip and leaned back against the wall.

“I was,” he said and bent to kiss her. Butterflies weakened her knees. They always seemed stronger and more defiant when she’d been with someone else.

“Shoot!” She smacked her forehead, “I forgot Harry’s cloak. I don’t think a disillusionment charm would cut it in a busy common room.”

“I bought you something last Hogsmeade visit.” He reached into his pocket abd pulled out a meticulously folded silver and shimmering garment.

Hermione unfolded it to reveal a cloak. She felt along the inseam and watched her hand disappear within the confines of the fabric.

“How much was this?” She asked, the butterflies crowding her throat.

“Don’t worry about that,” he said.

“No, Draco, I can’t, it’s… I can’t. I’ll use it tonight, but I’ll borrow Harry’s from now on.”

“That’s the second time you mentioned his name, now, Granger.”

“Yeah, well, what can be done about it, right? He’s the center of the bloody universe. Firebolts, invisibility cloaks, school books with all the answers in the margins, he gets everything, why shouldn’t he also get my every waking thought?”

“Granger, you promised...”

“And you should have seen him when he walked Luna back to the common room. He was all over her! He says he likes Ginny and goes after her bloody friend. Calling me a hypocrite?”

Malfoy sighed. “Come on,” he said, retrieving the cloak from her hands and draping it over her shoulders. He fastened the smart little button at the neck and pulled the hood over her head.

“Merlin’s beard,” she said, and she hung her head even though he couldn’t see it. “You just gave me the nicest gift anyone’s ever given me, and here I am talking about Harry. Draco, I’m sorry.”

He reached out his hand, and she took it. He squeezed her fingers and pursed his lips. “No, pet, you’re not. But you will be.” He pulled her to the door.

“Parseltongue,” he murmured.  

Where the Gryffindor common room was cozy, the Slytherin common room was beautiful. Tall domed ceilings lined with jade and marble displayed scenes of cunning adventures. Great stone columns lined the walls, and between them hung portraits of haughty-looking old heads of house. But most striking of all were the floor-to-ceiling windows that separated the common room from the Black Lake. The murky green currents from darting beasts cast shimmering and undulating aberrations over the hall. 

Pansy gossiped by the fire with a girl Hermione recognized as Astoria Greengrass. Astoria’s long legs stretched over Pansy’s lap, and Pansy’s toes buried into the wolf pelt rug beneath her. She wore a silky and expensive-looking black pajama set and sipped casually at a butterbeer. She passed the bottle to Astoria. 

“Parks,” Malfoy called, “I need you.”

“Can’t you see I’m busy, Draco? Go shag yourself for once.” Pansy called back, and Astoria giggled into the bottle’s mouth.

“Pansy, trust me,” he said, and she looked over, narrowing her deep green eyes. She eyed his hand, which gripped Hermione’s invisible fingers. “You aren’t going to want to miss this.”

“Alright, alright,” she said, hoisting herself off the couch. Astoria raised an eyebrow before turning her attention to a book in her lap.

Draco pulled Hermione into a hallway and up a short set of stairs as Pansy hurried to catch up. 

“Do you have Granger under there?” Pansy hissed, reaching for Hermione’s invisible form.

“Hi, Pansy,” Hermione said.

“Bloody hell, Hermione, what did you do?”

Hermione gulped. If Pansy worried for her, she was almost certainly in for it. 

They passed the deep cherry wood doors of the dormitories. Given that they weren’t sliding on their arses, she assumed these belonged to the boys. They passed the sixth-year dorm without hesitation. Malfoy wasn’t looking back at either of them and walked at a pace that made Hermione trot to keep up. Finally, they reached the end of the hall, to an unmarked door. Malfoy took off his tie and hung it around the knocker, and turned the knob to reveal a small study room with a roaring fire. Hermione always wished Gryffindor had alcoves to escape the common room’s commotion. They really were pigeonholed into a stereotype of a band of heroes.

He dropped Hermione’s hand, strode to the small armchair across the room, and flopped into it. He adjusted to a lazy slouch with his knees spread wide and temple resting on his finger.

“Granger, take off the cloak,” he commanded.

She swallowed and let the invisibility cloak fall to her feet behind her. She trembled as she stared at him. She’d never met anyone who could change their whole personality at the drop of a hat. The boy who rescued her not hours ago, who gave her the most beautiful gift she’d ever received, was in no way the boy who stared back at her now.

“That’s a bad way to start,” Pansy murmured, and she nodded toward hooks hanging on the wall.

“Oh, right,” Hermione said, and she bent to retrieve the cloak from the floor and dusted it off. She gingerly placed it on the hook behind her.

“That’s the last time either of you speaks out of turn,” he commanded. She saw Pansy roll her eyes, but Hermione snapped her head back to him. So different from the soft voice of the boy that held her as she cried in his arms.

Pansy whistled as she looked Hermione up and down, still clad in the dress she’d transfigured to his bloody specifications. Anger welled in her throat as she gazed intently at the gray eyes boring holes into her.

“Granger, do you know why you’re being punished?” He asked, maintaining that same bored stance, like an owner who caught their pet pissing on the rug.

“I,” she cleared her throat, “I talked about Harry Potter,” she said.

“No,” he sighed.

She swallowed, and understanding swirled through her nerves. This was a game, the same as making her solve the damn cabinet puzzle. If she played along, if she won, there’d be a prize at the end. Right?

“I told you to hold me accountable for not talking about Harry Potter,” she said, never taking her eyes off him. 

“That’s true, but that’s also not why you’re being punished.” The closest approximation of this Malfoy had revealed himself in the library when he let her fuck him. But even then, he’d admired her like an expensive toy. What made this Malfoy tick? 

Humiliation. Subservience. Honesty.

It was worth a shot. She looked at her feet and allowed the redness she’d been pushing back to creep up her face.

“I said he was the center of the universe. I said that he deserves my every waking thought, and then I wondered who he was shagging tonight, Sir.”

“Sir!?” Pansy scoffed, and she looked bewildered at Malfoy. The corner of his mouth twitched.

“He…he doesn’t have you call him sir?” Hermione mumbled out the side of her mouth.

“Absolutely not!” Pansy cried.

“Ladies, enough!” Malfoy commanded, and Pansy licked her top lip and looked at the ceiling while her stomach shook with silent laughter.

“Granger, do you accept your punishment?”

She officially hated it when he called her Granger. “I…I don’t know what my punishment is.”

“That’s not what I asked,” he narrowed his eyes. She swallowed and nodded.

"Words, Granger." 

"Yes."

“And what’s your safeword?”

“Buckbeak.”

“Hah!” Pansy cried, doubling over in laughter.

“Alright, Parks, get out,” he said, sitting up and pointing at the door behind them. 

“ I’m sorry, Sir," she said "I will behave from now on. I’ll do everything in my power to help Hermione learn to keep Harry Potter out of her mouth.”

Hermione looked at the ceiling. If she wasn’t red before, her ears burned now.

“Strip her,” he snapped, and Hermione closed her eyes. 

Pansy rounded on Hermione’s back and ran her fingers along her shoulders. Hermione shivered but thought that quick touch kept her from panicking when Pansy slowly began to unzip the back of her dress. She unclasped her bra and, in one fluid motion, pushed both to the floor. Hermione stood in her knickers, stockings, and heels. She knew better than to lift her hands to cover herself.

“Step,” she heard Pansy say, and Hermione stepped out of the pooled dress. Pansy conjured a hanger and gingerly hung the garment on the hook by the door.

“Shoes,” she said, and Hermione stepped out of the stilettos and down onto the thick carpet. 

Pansy knelt behind Hermione, hooked her fingers into her stockings and knickers, and began to pull them down. Hermione looked up and caught Draco’s eyes. Even though he’d seen, worshipped, every inch of her, Hermione shook in the wake of his gaze. She felt her knickers and stockings move down her thighs, knees, and calves.

“Step,” Pansy said, and Hermione stepped into her nakedness. 

“Parks, to me,” Malfoy said gently, and Pansy left Hermione’s side, turning her head to give her a nearly imperceptible smile.

Malfoy patted the arm of his chair, and Pansy sat, her legs crossed at the ankles.

“On your knees, Granger,” he snapped. Hermione slowly dropped to her knees, trembling in her vulnerability.

She knew what was about to be expected of her. She’d seen Pansy do it when she’d stumbled on her and Malfoy’s little ritual. At the time, it had been unspeakably hot to watch Pansy slink across the room on her hands and knees. But Hermione wasn’t a snake - she was a lion, proud and defiant.

“Come,” Malfoy said, crooking his finger to her.

She swallowed her pride, pushed forward onto all fours, and shook as she took her first few strides across the room. But then her pride rose like bile, and she looked up into Malfoy’s eyes. She felt her shoulder muscles and abdomen awaken. She didn’t slither - she stalked to the couple that gazed at her like a beast to be broken. 

She sat back on her ankles and looked up from between his legs. He looked away and stroked Pansy’s arm, who narrowed her eyes at him.

“Pans, do you remember the other day at dinner when we had that lively discussion with Blaise about giving head?”

“Yes, Draco, I do.”

“Do you remember what you said?”

She sighed and gave a quick, apologetic look to Hermione. “I said I wanted to try deepthroating, but that the only time I’d tried, my throat was sore for two days.”

“Well, you need to…” Hermione started, but Pansy looked down at her with wide eyes and shook her head. Hermione buttoned her lips.

“While I’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing it, I happen to know that Granger considers herself a skilled deepthroater. Where is Granger?” He asked, looking around dramatically. Pansy rolled her eyes as Hermione blinked in frustration.

“At your feet, Sir,” Pansy said.

“Ah, that’s right!” Draco said. He leaned down and grabbed Hermione’s chin. “You’d be happy to show her the ropes, wouldn’t you pet?”

Hermione felt courage course through her. She was about to blow his bloody mind. Her skills brought international quidditch players and saviors of the bloody wizarding world to their knees.

“Of course, Draco,” she said, searching his gray eyes. 

“After all, who does your throat belong to?” He asked.

“You, Draco,” she swallowed. 

“And who does your mind belong to?” He asked.

“You, Draco,” she said, and he sighed and shook his head.

He bent to her ear and whispered, “You’re thinking about him. I can tell.”

He sat up and put his hand on the small of Pansy’s back, ‘would you get on your knees for me, love?” 

“Of course,” said Pansy, and she knelt next to Hermione. Hermione shivered as she remembered her nakedness beside a fully clothed Pansy. 

“Well?” He asked, looking expectantly down at Hermione. She sat up on her knees and unbuttoned his trousers. He rested his temple against his finger again, the picture of boredom, but she could feel that he was anything but bored. She unzipped his fly and pulled him up through his boxers. Her mouth watered. He was so long, and she wondered if he’d fit. She opened her mouth.

“I think we’ll do without a demonstration tonight, as Granger can’t seem to get it through her bushy head that her worth isn’t in service of bloody Potter.”

She stopped dead and felt her nostrils flare. She desperately wanted to punch him in the balls.

Pansy snorted, and Malfoy sighed. 

She looked at Pansy, his hard cock still in Hermione’s hand. 

“Well?” she sighed. Pansy sat up on her knees next to Hermione and brushed Hermione’s hand as she took hold of him. 

She had never been this close to Pansy before. She was strikingly beautiful, with full, pouty lips, skin like glass, and thick black hair shaped in an elegant French bob. It took two hands for Hermione to stroke Pansy’s hair away from her face. She managed to gather the pieces that framed her face in her fist and ran her free hand down Pansy’s throat.  

“The key is just to relax,” she said softly. “You’re hurting yourself because you’re trying to force it.”

“I’m not forcing anything,” Pansy argued.

“No, I know you want it,” Hermione smiled, pushing Pansy’s head forward a little. Pansy opened her mouth and took Malfoy’s head between her lips. “I’ve seen you, remember? I bloody know you want it, but you’re a little…reckless.”

Pansy glared at Hermione with Malfoy between her lips, and Hermione felt a shudder that started in her core and ended at her fingertips.

She bit her lip. “I don’t mean that in a bad way! I’d love for you to show me how you do it sometime. But tonight, we’re going to tread lightly.” Hermione soothed. 

She pushed Pansy a little further along, and Malfoy groaned. She’d almost forgotten he was in the room.

“Take him a little deeper,” she said, “that’s a good girl.” She looked up to catch Malfoy’s eyes dart to hers. If he didn’t want her to top Pansy, he shouldn’t have made himself so bloody dispensable.

“You’re doing so good,” Hermione whispered in Pansy’s ear as she bobbed up and down Malfoy’s length. She nibbled Pansy’s earlobe and kissed beneath her ear, inhaling her scent beneath the lavender shampoo. She watched Pansy get into a space where her desire overtook her brattiness.

“I think we’re just about ready to try,” Hermione whispered, her lips brushing Pansy’s ear. “But I have one more trick that I find helps.” She brushed her finger along the waist of Pansy’s pajamas. 

“Is this ok?” She asked as she dipped one finger into the seam. Pansy nodded as she stroked her mouth up Malfoy’s cock.

Hermione dipped her fingers into Pansy’s knickers. She felt through the soft hair on her mound and dipped her finger into her wetness. Pansy’s eyes rolled back as she pushed herself further up Malfoy.

“Right there, harder,” Pansy said around him.

“No,” Hermione whispered in her ear with a smile. “You have to take it.”

Pansy squealed with frustration and began to rock along Hermione’s finger. 

“That’s it, angel, take as much as you want. Just relax.” Hermione let go of Pansy’s hair and stroked her throat. She felt the head of Malfoy’s cock against her fingers through the skin and muscle.

“Oh fuck,” she said, as Pansy rode her finger.

“Breathe through your nose now. That’s a good girl,” Hermione corrected when she heard Pansy gasp. 

Tears gathered at the corner of Pansy’s eye, and Hermione kissed them away. 

“I’m gonna…” Pansy squealed.

“Oh, Merlin,” Malfoy said above them. Hermione looked up to see his gray eyes wide with shock and abandon. His mouth gaped, and he began to buck in his chair. At her side, Pansy’s moans grew higher and louder as she shook against Hermione’s finger and drank Malfoy down. 

When Pansy released Malfoy, Hermione kissed her cheek and then turned her face to kiss her.

“That was so good,” she said, tasting Malfoy on her lips. 

After she released Pansy, Hermione looked up at Malfoy with triumph. She sat back on her hands, chest exposed, waiting for her reward.

“Yes, well, ladies, I am tired,” Malfoy said, stowing himself back into his trousers with a yawn, “I think I’m off to bed.”

“What?!” Hermione squeeked, and just like that, all the power she’d felt evaporated.

“Parks, get Granger off, would you?” He asked as he took long strides across the room.

“Wait,” Pansy said, and to Hermione’s surprise, Malfoy stopped at the door and turned. She looked Hermione in her eyes.

“Hermione,” she said, “who owns your throat?”

“Dra..Draco,” she said, but she sensed it was the wrong answer, that the game had changed. Still, Malfoy smirked at her from across the room, which made her rush from core to fingers again. 

“Sure, whatever,” Pansy said, “and who owns your mind?”

“Oh," Hermione said, looking down at her hands in her naked lap and smiling, “I do.”

She looked up to see Draco’s smirk quirk wider as he left without a word.

“He’s such a wanker, isn’t he?” Pansy asked, and she began to unbutton her silky black nightshirt. 

“Pansy, you don’t have to…”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Pansy said, and she moved on Hermione. She crawled over Hermione’s body until she pinned her to the floor.

The door opened, and Hermione looked over, expecting to see Malfoy.

“Malfoy wants me to go to his room, but I wanted to finish our conver…Bloody hell is going on in here?” Astoria Greengrass looked with bemused interest as Pansy bent to kiss Hermione’s neck.

Astoria bit her lip, stepped into the room, and closed the door behind her.