As It Were
Apart of Hermione had hoped that the ritual was now complete. That when they drank each other's blood straight from the source, it had sealed and corrected the ritual. Because for about a week afterwards she had felt amazing, and she could tell that he did too when she passed him in the halls.
Malfoy’s skin and hair was glowing more than usual. His arm was no longer in a sling, head and wrist fully healed in record time, even with the aid of magic. He looked stronger, healthier and seemed to be more sociable amongst his peers. Hermione thought she’d even caught a glimpse of him smiling at one point.
Her friends had noticed a change in her mood and appearance aswell. Asking if Hermione had gotten more sun recently or better yet, a shag. She denied both.
Food tasted better. Music sounded better. The sky was bluer. The sun brighter.
Sleep no longer alluded her either. She crawled under the covers of her bed, looking forward to another night of peaceful rest when she heard a masculine groan, the noise guttural and needy.
She sat up, wondering if she was hearing things, but the girls dorm was silent. As she lied back down, she heard the moan again but she couldn't pinpoint exactly where it was coming from.
She rolled onto her side, suspecting one of the girls had snuck a boy in.
It suddenly felt very warm underneath the covers, to the point she felt sweat forming on the back of her neck. She swung a leg to hang off the edge of the bed, the cool night air relieving some of the heat.
Fuck yes...
Her eyes shot open. The voice...it sounded so close but faraway at the same time. The sighs and moans that followed echoed in her mind.
Wait...what is she-...argh
And familiar...definitely familiar.
Too much teeth Pans, fuck!
Oh. My. God.
Malfoy...and Pansy...what the fuck? What was Hermione listening to? And how?
She peered around the curtains that bordered her bed. The girl's dormitory was dark and quiet, aside from Lavender's light snoring.
Whatever explicit scene she was eavesdropping on, wasn't taking place here.
That's better...just like that...
Merlins' beard. She was listening to Malfoy get off at the hands (and mouth?) of Pansy.
Hermione shoved her head underneath her pillow, attempting to block it all out. But she couldn't silence her mind, Malfoy’s panting becoming a relentless chorus.
Fuck...I'm close...
Her body heat began to rise again, the blooming flush in her cheeks spreading down to her neck and chest. Her lower abdomen began to flutter with little synapses of arousal.
This was not happening. She was not getting turned on by Draco fucking Malfoy.
But no- this was different...the intensity of it...the feeling was almost secondhand. She hadn't even touched herself, her hands firmly gripping the sheets at her side. Yet her body was responding as if it were being caressed and explored by a lovers’ touch.
Don't stop...fuck...that's it...
Spirals of pleasure began to sprawl towards her core like creeping vines, her breathing becoming shallow as the feeling began to reach a peak that she had no control over.
Right there...fuck...I'm coming...fuck yes...
Hermione hurtled off the edge, a ferocious spike of ecstasy nearly forcing her back to arch off the bed, her mouth opened in a silent scream. The orgasm melted away tension in her bones that she didn't realise she was carrying. Her limbs had become liquefied and she suddenly felt very sleepy.
But she couldn't shut her eyes to the fact that she had just experienced Malfoy's pleasure as if it were her own. His orgasm through her own body.
His voice seemed to fade from her mind just as the aftershocks within her body did. She managed to drift off soon after, giving into her body’s craving for sleep. Of course visions of a shirtless Malfoy plagued her dreams that night, images of his face twisted in pleasured agony at the forefront.
Explaining the situation to Malfoy the next day went about as good as Hermione expected.
"You're fucking spying on me now Granger?!"
She glanced around, making sure the alcove she'd dragged him to was in fact as secluded as she thought it was.
"I didn't do it on purpose. It was your voice invading my head!", she managed to shout in a whisper.
He dragged his hands through his scalp, his hair glinting in the sun.
"I knew this fucking thing would come back to bite me. So what? You hear me every time I get off now?!"
"I don't fucking know how it works Malfoy! I thought we fixed whatever was happening between us..."
He abruptly backed her into the wall, looming over her with an icy glare. She felt his hot breath fan against her mouth, the smell of peppermint engulfing her senses. He leaned his face further down so that the tips of their noses were practically touching.
To her surprise, his hand brushed the side of her face to tuck an errant curl behind her ear. The act was gentle and out of character, but his voice proceeded to drip with malice.
"Well evidently, You. Fucking. Didn't."
He emphasised each syllable clearly, his voice barely above a whisper but still carrying a thinly veiled threat that was hard to miss.
Fix it.
She opened her mouth to speak but he stormed off in a rush, leaving her alone to catch her breath.
After a moment, she went to leave when a sudden thought occurred to her. If she could sense him getting off, did that mean he could sense her?
Her face reddened as she took a mental vow of celibacy. At least until she could fix whatever was happening between them.
Unfortunately, prefect duties along with extra classes didn’t give Hermione a lot of time to look through the restricted section. She did however manage to skim the blood magic tome for a fourth time in the hope that she may have missed some small piece of information.
As she feared, she came up blank again.
In the meantime, Malfoy seemed to have made it his mission to make her as uncomfortable as possible. His trysts with Pansy had become a nightly occurrence, and Hermione knew he was doing it just to antagonise her. When Pansy wasn’t available, his sexual escapades extended to the girls from the year level below, the familiar faces of Slytherine’s and Ravenclaws entering her mind while she was trying to sleep. In classes and the hallways, he took every chance to give her a callous wink. She refused to believe having this much sex on a regular basis was the norm for him.
Hermione’s love life hadn’t exactly been thriving before their predicament, however she indulged in self-pleasure when the moment struck her. Their shared mental connection however had prevented her from pursuing that particular avenue of stress relief. Not only did she want to protect her privacy during one of her most intimate and vulnerable moments, but she was also taking him into consideration. He didn’t ask to have her thoughts and feelings in his head, and she wanted to be mindful of that.
Yet he was doing the exact opposite to her.
He was forcing his debauched thoughts and feelings into her psyche, making her witness these dalliances without a care in the world.
His cruelty and selfishness grated on her nerves, to the point where she’d finally had enough.
If he wasn’t going to hold back, then neither was she.
The following Saturday night, she tamed and styled her locks into sleek bun at the nape of her neck, letting the odd curl escape to frame her face. She lined and smudged her eyes with black charcoal, making them appear more feline. She borrowed a red tartan mini skirt from Ginny, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs, and finished the look with a black long-sleeve turtleneck.
Ginny gave her wink as they both made their way down to the dungeons.
“Whoever you’re trying to impress tonight is going to be on their knees for you.”
Hermione gave a soft nudge to the girl’s ribs with her elbow.
“I’m not trying to impress anyone. Can’t a girl change her look every once and a while?”
“She can. Besides, I think people will just be shocked you’re at a Slytherine party in the first place.”
Ginny was right. When they entered the Slytherine common room, many heads turned towards her. A few dropped jaws also accompanied them.
“Well well, if it isn’t the Gryffindor princess gracing us with her presence in the snake pit”, a tipsy Blaise Zabini greeted them at the door.
Before another comment could be made, Hermione grabbed the open bottle of fire whisky from his grasp and took a big swig before wiping her mouth on her sleeve.
“Who are you calling princess?”, she smirked.
Zabini raised an eyebrow, appearing genuinely impressed before gesturing them further into the room.
“Please, come join the party.”
The looks eventually subsided once it seemed clear that Hermione wasn’t there as a prefect to crash the party or scold any unsavoury behaviour.
Her exchanges with the Slytherines since the war ended had been polite but minimal. A few shots and swigs of firewhisky however, seemed to have everyone in a chummy mood, regardless of house status.
Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw Neville flirting with Daphne Greengrass.
“Since when does Neville come to Slytherine parties?”, she whispered to Ginny.
Ginny shrugged. “A while now. Since the war, I think everyone just wants to have fun, and no one knows how to party like the Slytherines do.”
“Do Harry and Ron ever come down here?”
“Harry has once or twice. I tried to get Ron down here but it was like pulling teeth.”
Hermione nodded as her eyes found Malfoy leaning against a wall, Pansy whispering something into his ear. It mustn’t have been very interesting because he barely reacted to what was being said. Instead his eyes found Hermione’s, and she swore she noticed his mouth part slightly as he took in her outfit, her long legs on display.
She felt her cheeks heat up as she smiled into her drink, unsure if it was the alcohol or his gaze making her blush.
She met his eyes again only to be affronted with a glare directed at her. She rolled her eyes and turned back to her conversation with Ginny.
What’s his problem? I have every right to be here as much as everyone else does, she thought to herself.
No you don’t.
Her eyes widened and she nearly spat out her drink, Malfoy’s voice in her head jolting her senses.
Her eyes turned back to him as both shock and anger was mirrored in both their gazes. The telepathic exchange between them had caught him off guard aswell. Before she could decide what to do, he had taken off across the common room and out the door, Pansy in tow.
Good , now she could enjoy her night without daggers being bored into her skull.
Drinks and music flowed, and Hermione was surprised to find herself having fun. She danced alongside the Greengrass sisters, getting a few wolf whistles from Zabini and Anthony Goldstein, much to her surprise.
After downing her fourth drink, she plopped herself beside Dean and Seamus who were barrelled over in fits of laughter on the lounge. She shook her head with an easy smile, struggling to remember when she felt this relaxed and carefree.
She glanced around the room as the warmth of the alcohol settled into her chest. She spotted Ginny and Luna having an animated discussion about the existence of nargles before her eyes landed on Theodore Nott across the room.
He was dressed in black fitted trousers and a black turtleneck, not unlike Hermione. He leaned casually against the wall, his stance relaxed as he seemed to take in the other party goers whilst he nursed a drink.
He was attractive she decided, having only spoken to him in the odd class or two over the years. She’d never really noticed how tall, dark and handsome he was before. The dark chocolate waves of his hair, his angular cheekbones and chistled jawline, the amused smirk across his lips...wait.
Hermione’s cheeks reddened as she realised she had been caught staring.
Nott raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her as he met her gaze head on. The amused smirk he sported wasn’t one of cruelty like Malfoy’s signature sneer. It was one more of open curiosity.
She couldn’t look away, but was unsure of what to do. She decided on an awkward half-wave that seemed to make him smile more, displaying perfectly white teeth.
Emboldened by the alcohol in her veins and his friendly demeanour, she stood from the lounge and made her way through the throngs of people, eventually coming to lean against the wall beside him.
She mirrored his smile before giving a nod.
“Theodore.”
He mimicked her stance.
“Hermione”, his tone lightly mocking.
“Enjoying the party?”
He bit back a laugh. “I certainly am now.”
She gave a half-hearted pout. “You’re laughing at me.”
“Only because I never thought I'd see the day you would be down here getting drunk with the serpents.”
“I am not drunk. I’m merry”, she corrected.
He inclined his head to her, his grin still warm. “Be that as it may, your presence is still surprising.”
She straightened a little, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. “But not unwelcome I hope.”
She wasn’t sure if she meant in the Slytherine common room or standing beside Theo. Either way, his answer reassured her.
“ Definitely not unwelcome”, he emphasised the point by offering her his glass.
She accepted, swallowing a generous mouthful before offering the glass back. “That’s good to know.”
He waved her outstretched hand away as he fished out a sleek black cigarette case from his trouser pocket.
“I’m going to sneak out for a smoke.”
She didn’t know what compelled her next sentence.
“May I join you?”
He gave her a look of surprise before sporting another bemused smirk.
“Sure.”
He gestured for her to follow him as they made their way out of the common room and into the dungeon hallways.
He catered to her short strides, falling into easy step beside her before making their way up the spiral staircase. At the top, she was met with the cool night air as they settled on the stone bridge.
She observed him pulling out a hand-rolled cylinder, placing the tip into his mouth and muttering under his breath. The opposite end glowed with light as he inhaled deeply, tendrils of smoke leaving his mouth as he plucked the cigarette between his fingers.
The strong scent of clove and something sweet that she couldn't name wafted over her as she leaned against the stone railing with her arms crossed over her chest. Entranced, she watched him bring the small cylinder back to his lips, take a long drag and then part his mouth to form a small ‘O’ shape. Delicate rings of smoke floated from his lips towards her, eventually dissipating in a haze as they met her torso.
She gave a small smirk as he regarded her with a secretive expression.
“What are you up to Hermione?”
She feigned innocence.
“What makes you think I’m up to anything?”
“Well-", he paused to blow smoke from his mouth, "You show up to a Slytherine party looking like that”, he made a gesture to her outfit, “before luring an unsuspecting gentleman such as myself out here, alone and at your mercy...”, he lazily flicked a bit of ash towards the ground before moving closer to her. “So I’ll ask you again Hermione, what are you up to?”
His tone was low, but his eyes held a playful mischief that she was beginning to grow quite fond of.
She tentatively moved her hand towards his and encircled his wrist with her fingers. He arched an eyebrow as he allowed her to bring his hand just short of her face before she leaned forward, wrapping her lips around the cylinder and inhaling, the cigarette casting a small warm glow between their faces. The filter was coated in the sweetness that she'd detected earlier. Vanilla.
It burned a little as the smoke slid down her throat and into her lungs, but she kept her composure as she exhaled what remained between her teeth.
“Maybe I’m just feeling a little reckless”, she admitted, the remnants of the smoke making her voice sound husky.
His eyes widened a little at her confession before he stood back a little to inhale the final drag of the kretek.
“Draco's certainly worked himself into a bit of a tizzy over you.”
Her face scrunched up in confusion at the sudden change in topic. “Hm?”
Theo shrugged. “Couldn't help notice the two of you looking at each other with more disdain than usual lately. Feels a bit like 2nd year all over again”, he said with the ghost of a smile as he butted the cigarette.
She kept her tone light, not allowing the mention of Malfoy to get a rise out of her.
“Old habits die hard I guess.”
He leaned his back against the wall, tilting his head up to look at the sky.
“Good to see the old Gryffindor and Slytherine rivalry is still going strong.”
She shook her head. “It's a bit more complicated than that. And besides...me and you seem to be getting along just fine.”
He smirked, but didn't relent.
“Well I know it's not about blood status anymore. So what is it then? A general dislike for one another? Or something else?”
She wanted to ask him why he cared so much. He was Malfoy's closest friend, sure. But why the sudden interest in their dynamic? His expression was one of open curiosity. If he had any hidden motive, it was well guarded from her.
She shoved her questions away, not wanting to spend anymore of her evening thinking about Malfoy.
She mirrored his stance as she let her own gaze wander to the sky.
“I don't want to talk about Malfoy”, she said simply.
She felt him angle his body towards her, tilting his head to the side to regard her thoughtfully.
“What do you want to talk about then?”
She let herself meet his gaze, her own body drawing closer to his.
“I don't want to talk at all anymore”, she softly muttered as she openly stared at his lips.
He eyes crinkled with slight confusion as his mouth parted to speak.
Before he could however, she pressed her lips firmly to his.
She felt his mouth smirk slightly against hers before he returned the kiss. His lips were soft and measured, tasting of the sweet kretek they'd just shared.
He allowed her to control the pressure and made no move to touch her, as if he were a mere spectator in her quest for wickedness.
That simply won't do.
She let her hands slide up his chest and around his neck, further pulling him down to her height while her fingers played with the hair at his nape.
She felt him place his palms at her waist, pulling her body against his more firmly as the kiss grew more experimental.
She opened her mouth slightly and he followed her lead, deepening the kiss further as they began to move together. His tongue feathered over her bottom lip before dipping inside her warmth, her tongue meeting his halfway.
The taste of vanilla, clove, whiskey and a flavour that was purely him led to a mewl being extracted from the back of her throat, surprising herself. Her dulled inhibitions prevented embarrassment from flooding her cheeks. She felt the slyness of his smile against her mouth again, and it only enticed her further.
She pulled him towards the alcove by the top of the stairs so that she was positioned against the wall.
“Was this your plan all along? To get me alone for a snog?”, he grinned wickedly.
She laughed, shaking her head.
“I had no plan Theo. We Gryffindors aren't so devious.”
He pulled the neckline of her sweater down, moving his lips to her newly exposed neck, mouthing at her skin.
“Luckily I am...” he breathed before sucking at her pulse point, marking her with a bruise.
She arched her body further into his, feeling the hard plains of his chest against her own.
She dragged her hand roughly through his dark locks, pulling on the strands when she felt his teeth lightly press over the column of her throat.
She inhaled sharply at the feel of his hardness pressing against her hip.
“Theo...”, she whispered breathlessly.
He rested his forehead against hers as they both panted.
“Just say the word when the little lion's had enough”, his tone was light but sincere.
She scoffed, bringing one of his hands to her clothed breast.
“Tell me when the snake wants to slither back to his den.”
He raised an eyebrow as he removed his hand and shame nearly hit her at full speed. But he then slinked it underneath the hem of her top, his palm skating across the bare skin of her abdomen before resting it where she had placed it before, now only thin lace separating his hand from her breast.
“Checkmate”, he winked.
She grinned before colliding her mouth back with his, an explosion of heat fuelling them both. The slight clashing of teeth, the biting and sucking of lips, the bruising of skin...Theo was no longer polite about it, and it thrilled her to the bone.
She moved her hips involuntarily and a strained noise reverberated from his throat.
Ah.
She raised her leg to his outer thigh and he got the message quickly. He brought his hands over the back of her skirt and lifted her up with a squeeze to her behind. She wrapped her legs around his hips while he balanced her against the wall, lips never severing. He'd managed to burrow his hand underneath the lace cup of her bra in the process, his fingers softly brushing over the peaked nipple. The contact sent a bolt of electricity to her core.
Her skirt had ridden up to the point that it appeared as if she were only wearing a tartan belt, his groin now in direct contact with her lace covered centre.
He ground himself against her, hitting her clit in such a way that made her gasp.
“Is this okay?”, he rasped by her ear.
She nodded with a little too much enthusiasm for her liking, but his bashful smile lit her up inside. He kissed along her cheeks, her jaw, her mouth...everywhere he could. Groans emanated from his throat as her hips met his with each jolt of their bodies.
She felt him pinch her nipple, and her back arched, pressing her core against him more forcefully.
“Fuck”, he bit out under his breath.
His hips rocked against hers harder and faster, brushing against her clit every time. Debauched moans escaped her mouth as his gaze met hers with a dark intensity.
“Are you close little lion?”
She could only nod, the edge drawing near.
The overachiever within her was about to ask if he was too, when a particularly hard thrust set her core ablaze.
A breathy high-pitched whine fell from her lips as her orgasm shattered throughout her body, her legs involuntarily squeezing Theo's hips even more tightly against her.
He hummed with approval before his own release caused his movements to become jagged. Soft mewls stuttered from her shaky form as her wet, warm and over-sensitive core remained pressed to his groin as he rode the high. He managed to still hold her up in the afterglow, his forehead resting against hers while they both recovered.
“Well...”, he muttered between pants, “that was unexpected.”
She tittered softly, feeling the fragments of a blush returning to her cheeks.
When their breathing stabilised, he gently lowered her back down to standing position. Her legs wobbled like a newborn giraffe, but she managed to hold the wall for support. She felt his gentle hand on her shoulder.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just need to get my bearings.”
As she navigated standing, she watched him light a cigarette before offering it to her.
She dismissed him with a shake of her head.
“Think I’ve had my fill of recklessness for one evening.”
She blanched at the way that had sounded.
“Oh Merlin, I didn’t mean-"
“All good Hermione. Happy to be of service.” His tone was indifferent but his expression grew guarded as he turned away from her.
She grabbed his empty hand before he could distance himself any further.
“Truly Theo, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I've enjoyed your company and what we-...ah...did. Just like you said, it was unexpected is all.”
He raised an eyebrow at her.
“What was? My enjoyable company or the orgasm?”, his questions were blunt but his voice was teasing, the mischievous glint in his eyes returning.
“Ah...both.”
He fell into easy laughter and she couldn’t help but smile at the sound.
“Ditto. I certainly didn’t see my evening panning out this way, but I'm glad it did.”
She gave him a nod. “Likewise.”
Ever the gentleman, Theo escorted her back to the Gryffindor common room. He gave her a kiss on the cheek before whispering, “Until little lions and snakes meet again”, departing with a devilish wink.
She smirked, ignoring the fat lady’s disapproving stare through the portrait as she slinked her way inside.
Once in the girl’s dormitory, she traded her party outfit for a loose-fitting night shirt and sighed with content under the covers of her bed.
She began to slide into a deep and easy slumber, almost forgetting that Malfoy had probably telepathically witnessed her encounter with Theo.
Yeah , it felt good to be reckless.