Breaking The Pattern

Unfortunately for Draco Malfoy, all known time turners were destroyed in the Department of Mysteries during his fifth year.

He’d have to thank dear old dad for that someday.

It meant that Draco’s plan to go back in time and force a birth control potion down Molly Weasley’s throat would not be possible.

Granger had taken him as far as the common room when Weaselby turned the corner and her hand had slipped from his like it was on fire.

He’d ducked his head and mumbled something like a goodbye, not wanting to talk to the irksome redhead.

“What were you doing with him?” Weasley has asked Granger.

“Studying Ronald. We were studying,” she answered, obviously just as frustrated by her friend’s intrusion.

Draco stalked to his room, pacing the floor and asking himself if he should just go find her.

Except she’d in the middle of the lion’s den where her friends probably wouldn’t let him enter.

He can’t relax. His whole body is like a frayed wire, tight and electric.

So he grabs his robe and a towel and heads towards the bathroom.

Along with a new tower equipped with enough rooms for every returning eighth-year student, there was a new bathroom for them to use. 

Much like the Prefect’s bath, it is only available to a certain population. Undersexed, over-emotional 18-year-olds.

He’d always thought it was hinky that they had allowed fifteen-year-olds a private bath the size of a swimming pool.

Now he was grateful for the unsuspecting adults in charge of Hogwarts.

Planning to relieve himself of his current frustration and get Granger’s taste out of his pores, he is grateful when he enters the empty bath. A man shouldn’t have to wank in the presence of others.

Just like the Prefect’s Bath, there is a large pool, currently empty, and two long rows of stalls as well as a row of sinks. There is also a set of shower stalls, which is where Draco hangs up his robe and towel and turns on the water.

Stipping down, he carefully folds his clothes and sets them on a bench.

Just as he is about to step under the warm spray, there is a sound around the corner. He leans back so he can hear over the water falling.

“Draco?” A voice calls out tentatively.

He smiles to himself.

Granger.

Grabbing his towel, he wraps it around his waist and steps out into view of the doorway.

“Found you,” she says, a cheeky smile on her face.

“So you did,” he mirrors her smile with his own signature smirk.

She’s already changed into her robe. It’s pink, which he wouldn’t have guessed.

While he takes in the flush on her face, she looks him up and down, likely surprised by the muscles roping over his body.

Then, much to Draco’s approval, she takes her wand from her pocket and points it towards the door.

“Silencio, Colloportus,” Granger casts quickly, even going so far as to add a Caterwauling charm to the entrance.

“That might be a little much,” he jokes.

“We’ll see about that.” Smug little witch.

Then, Granger unbelts her robe and lets it slip to the floor.

Whatever Draco’s imagination could conjure while laying in bed thinking of her, the reality was astronomically better. She’d tanned while in Australia, but it didn’t create any lines on her lithe form. 

The feminine slope of her hips and the perfect shape of her breasts nearly make Draco cum right then.

It’s the look in her eyes though, that make a low seated groan come out of his mouth. 

Stormy and utterly devastating.

“Say something,” she whispers, walking closer, her bare feet pitter-pattering across the stone.

Never one to be speechless, he searches his mind for the right words. His mother had sent him to the best tutors in the world to learn several languages. 

Even with hundreds of thousands of words at his disposal, he takes the easy way out.

He pulls her against his chest and kisses her, fiercely.

Nipping at her lip and tangling his hand in her thick curls.

“Please?” she whispers between kisses.

“I can’t. It won’t be enough. It won’t be right,” he whispers back.

“Try.”

So he pulls away, his hands slipping down her back to her waist.

“You walk through the world as an untouchable bliss, yet now you’ve allowed me to glimpse the whole paradise,” he murmurs. 

She bites her lip, but the look in her eyes only intensifies.

He kisses her again, not moving his hands as she leans into his body.

“You’re shivering.” 

“I’m not sure if it is the cold or your silver tongue,” she looks down.

No. He will show her that he meant every syllable. That he would have said it in the passage on their first night. Maybe even in one of the letters he’d penned this Summer.

He turns and searches for the knobs for the bath. 

Water surges from the walls and soon enough, he is taking her by the hand and pulling her towards the water.

She goes first and he watches as the soap clings to her skin.

Dropping his towel, he joins her, pleased with the way her eyes widen at his full body.

Neither of them moves to embrace. Instead, she brings small handfuls of water up and massages her skin. He just stares, bewitched. 

But then she brings her hands to her chest and he can’t hold back anymore.

“Merlin Granger, am I dead?” He doesn’t mean to sound so morose.

“No.” She stops what she is doing and wades through the water, stopping so close, his cock brushes her hip. “Shall I prove it to you?”

And before he can answer, Granger’s hand is around his shaft, slowly moving up and down.

Leaning against the edge of the pool, Draco lets his head fall back, his hands resting on the stone at his sides.

Bliss.

“Draco, you should know,” she runs her other hand over his chest, her nails gently scratching at his pale skin. “I’m on the potion.”

He looks down at her, false innocence making him hard as stone.

Not willing to waste a second longer, he growls playfully, picking her up by her waist and spinning them to set her down on the stone.

His hand goes between her legs and the deja vu of it sends a thrill up his spine.

Draco knows he can do better than a quick orgasm in the library.

Spreading her thighs, massaging the soapy water into her warm skin, he practically dives between her thighs, his tongue snaking out to lick up her slit.

A hand goes to his hair as she gasps, loudly.

He wants her to be much, much, louder.

Licking her slowly, he wishes he could die between these thighs.

“Oh God, Draco,” she bucks slightly. “As much as I want you to finish what you are doing, I need something else.”

He pulls back just far enough to ask her what before resuming his ministrations, pressing against her clit and humming happily when her thighs clamp tightly on either side of his head.

“Your cock,” she tightens her hand in his hair and he pulls back, wiping his face with a smug look.

“Say it again, Granger.”

He pulls her down off the wall and into his hands, her round ass fitting perfectly in his grasp.

“You know I preferred it when you called me Hermione,” she bites her lip as he presses his cock against her.

“Say it again, Hermione.”

“I need your cock, Draco,” she acquiesces.

He walks them over to the stairs, her mouth grazing over his neck with gentle lovebites, different than the desperate way her nails dig into his back.

Draco sets her down on the top step so that only her calves are still submerged.

His long legs put him at a disadvantageous position, so he kneels on the step below her, laying his body on top of hers and kissing her softly, like a vow.

“Are you comfortable?” He slips his hand between her legs to make sure she is wet. 

Dripping.

She nods.

“I just want to make sure I don’t hurt you,” he sounds nervous all of a sudden.

“I’m not a virgin, Draco. You won’t hurt me.”

He looks at her in surprise. 

“Weasley?” he asks, jealousy hot in his chest.

“Just once.”

He hates that he had her first. Suppose he’ll just have to make sure she never remembers anything about her past encounters.

He can’t help but ask, “Just once?” 

Draco’s left hand wraps possessively around her hair at the base of his neck while his other hand slides up her torso.

“And this Summer,” she breathes out, a small whine escaping as his fingers trace her pebbled nipples. “With a boy in Australia.”

The confession makes him smile.

“A boy, hm?”

She nods.

“Then I’m going to assume you haven’t been taken care of the way a woman of your pedigree deserves,” he purrs into her ear.

Her back arches and he knows she is ready.

The praise washes over her and she digs her nails in deeper.

So Draco does what he has been fantasizing about for months. Maybe even years.

He presses his cock against her entrance and moves his right hand to her clit, making Hermione moan loudly.

“I want to hear it all, understood?” he nips at her left nipple and she nods.

She’ll be doing more than nodding in a second.

The moment Draco pushes inside of her wet pussy, he has to remind himself this is about her.

Moving slowly, he worships her body, his breath uneven,

“Faster,” she begs.

So he grabs her hip and does as she asks. He’ll do anything she asks.

He can’t quite get deep enough and he wants to bottom out in her pussy. Wants to see his whole cock disappear inside her sweet cunt.

Shifting so he is basically holding her against him, he gets a better angle and she starts moving her hips up and down.

The low moans that she tries to stifle only spur him on and he starts fucking her faster, harder.

Finally, she lets out a shriek and he pulls her head back with his free hand and kisses her neck, biting at the soft flesh and marking her as his.

“Draco, I’m going to cum,” she practically yells and he shifts them again so he can kiss her nipples and run a finger over her clit, desperate to hold on long enough for her.

He’s never needed to cum so badly.

Luckily for the both of them, it all becomes too much for Hermione and she screams his name as she cums around his cock. 

Draco groans just as loudly as he cums inside of her.

“Oh God, Oh God,” Hermione just keeps repeating herself and Draco can understand why Muggles are so into God.

Paradise.

“You are incredible,” he says, brushing a hair off her face and pulling out of her.

She shivers again and then smiles at him.

“I’ve had better.” Cheeky.

He picks her up and carries her into the pool so they are waist-deep.

“Take it back, witch,” he dips her backward so she is nearly in the water.

She shrieks and slaps his chest playfully.

“You are pretty incredible too, Draco,” she wiggles in his grasp, wrapping her hands around his neck and kissing him on the corner of his mouth where his smirk turns up.

His fingers are pruned, but they stay in the bath a while longer, not thinking of the world outside and the students trying to get into the eighth-year bath.