Chapter 5 – Electricity

A few days had passed since Hermione's last 'adventure' with Draco Malfoy. It was now getting perilously close to the end of the term, and that meant only one thing in Hermione's mind- exams. At least, that was how it used to be. Disconcertingly, she found herself to be extremely divided. One part of her, perhaps her old self, was screaming at her to study for her exams- after all, these would determine her placements for next year, and thus eventually affect her N.E., which were terribly important. On the other hand, however, Hermione found that she couldn't stop thinking about Draco. When she'd see him next, what they'd do. Draco was never one for repetition. She always looked forward to a fresh experience every time she was with him. It was like nothing else in her life. It was so anti-Hermione, what she was doing.

Sometimes she could scarcely believe it was possible, that she could be doing what she was doing. This went against everything she believed in: she was having casual sex, and with someone who had made her life hell for the last six years. Her secret was not to think about the implications. And it was easier than she thought. After all, there were plenty of other things for her to think about. Like how good he felt against her. She was confident that, whatever she was doing, as long as it didn't hurt anyone, it was fine. She conveniently ignored the close brush with death Roger Davies had had the last time. Well, really, it wasn't. Draco had done him a favour, actually. Now that he wasn't going to tell a soul about what he knew, he was safe from whatever might have been done to him. A favour, she told herself.

She sat with her two best friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, and most of the rest of Gryffindor house, in the Common Room, and for the first time she was like the rest of them: only vainly attempting to study for exams. She laughed inwardly when she realized that this was how it must be like for her friends.

Ron threw down his quill. "This rubbish isn't doing me any good. I can't remember anything!"

Hermione sighed, "Yeah, me too." She jerked her head up once she had realized her mistake to find everyone within hearing distance staring at her, disbelief etched across all of their faces.

"Wait, what?" Harry said. She eyed him suspiciously. Hermione figured he would be less confused than the rest of them, after all, he knew that something was up, even if he had no idea what it was. No such luck, it seemed.

"Well, uh, I dunno," Hermione said, back-pedalling. "There's just been a lot going on. I have a right to be stressed," she snapped at them.

Ron shrugged and went back to staring blankly at his transfiguration notes. The Common Room resumed, but with increased whispers. Hermione could pick them out, if she listened closely. The consensus for all of the sixth years was that if Hermione was worried, then they should all be doubly so. A hush fell over the room as those studying renewed their efforts.

For Hermione, the afternoon dragged by. It was odd; usually her Saturdays flew by, seeing as how she always had way too much to do and never enough time to do it. But now time might as well have stopped. Just the thought of him made her skin burn. She only hoped that tonight would be the night, and she could only dream of what possibilities he would turn into realities with their next encounter.

On the one hand, she found it almost frightening that she focused on sex this much now. She wasn't a whore. She wasn't one of those people who slept around constantly. Just the opposite, in fact. She'd always been such a "good girl". That was the excuse she used now: That she'd been a "good girl" all her life, and now she was just playing catch-up. Most people spent their teenage years building up sexual experience, and so they could take things in stride. That didn't really apply to her. She had been opened up to a whole world of experience in so short a period of time; it was only natural for her to be overwhelmed by it.

At least, that was what she told herself, anyway.

Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, had no such excuse. His mind was hopelessly entrapped on her, and for good reason.

He sat on one of the sofas in the Slytherin common room, thinking. It was no secret that he had slept with nearly every eligible female in his house, and quite a few from the others. He didn't try and keep it a secret; in fact he often used it for bragging rights. But this was all different. He'd never slept with a Gryffindor, especially not a mudblood like Hermione Granger. On the flip side, he'd never had a better shag in his life. Maybe it was something about her innocence that turned him on...

In any case, he'd never be able to tell anyone about it, and it infuriated him. He wanted to tell them, "I'm having the best sex of my life 2 or 3 times a week! What are you idiots doing with yourselves?" But of course he couldn't. He didn't even want to know what would be done to him if anyone important ever found out he was sleeping with a mudblood. But no one would. Certainly Hermione would never tell anyone.

His mental commentary ground to a halt when he realized it... He'd just called her Hermione. Her name. It was odd, really. Sure, it might've slipped out once or twice during the sex, but she was always still 'Granger' in his head.

He got up with a sigh and decided to walk down to the washroom to clear his thoughts. He took his time wandering through the castle, deciding to find a bathroom on the seventh floor that he had a particular fondness for. He knew it would take forever to get there from the dungeons, but he didn't mind.

The late afternoon sun shone through the windows as he rose higher, and it turned the stone walls a muddled shade of red-orange. He savoured the walk, taking his time. Instead of thinking about the situation, he just found himself plotting when the next time would be. He knew this couldn't go on forever. He needed to get as much in, while he still could.

He decided it would be tonight.

Almost before he realized where he was, he had reached the bathroom on the seventh floor. He marvelled at how fast the trip had passed. He stepped inside, walking over to the sinks by the far wall. He turned the taps on, and then ran his hands under the water. It was freezing cold- a pleasant surprise in the June heat. He pushed his hands across his face, careful to avoid his immaculate hair, but relishing the coolness against his skin.

So absorbed was he, he didn't hear the door open behind him, didn't notice her creeping up behind until the last second.

He turned around in a blur and held his wand out, under her neck. When comprehension came to him, he lowered his wand, but didn't put it away. It was only Pansy.

She gave a nervous laugh, which trailed off when she noticed his expression. "Draco, honey, don't do that! You scared the hell out of me."

He said nothing as she pushed herself into him. She wrapped her arms around his back, digging her nails in through his shirt, as she whispered "Draco, why don't you fuck me anymore?"

It was impossible for him to avoid being turned on. She might have a face like a dog, but even he couldn't deny how good her body felt against him. He silently cursed his weakness as he felt himself growing hard against her. She smiled, flashing her teeth at him.

He swallowed, trying to regain his composure. "I've been... busy."

She grabbed his wrist. Squeezed where she knew his Dark Mark was. His eyes met hers. "I'm sure you have," she breathed. He belatedly noticed that most of her shirt was unbuttoned. The ghostly swell of her cleavage was quite visible. He felt his pants growing tighter.

Pansy could feel his erection pressing against her through them. She knew she was in control now. Draco, leaning against the sink behind him, slid his leg forward slightly. She took advantage of this, pushing herself against his thigh. She smiled a tight smile as she saw his eyes when he realized it: She wasn't wearing panties beneath her skirt. She ground her pussy into his thigh; to be sure he could feel the warmth of her against him. She felt his cock twitch. She saw it, too.

So she decided to drop her bomb, before it was too late and she forgot all about it. "Draco," she said, pausing while he looked down at her, "Who is it?"

His eyes narrowed sharply and he said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Pansy stepped back slightly, and sighed. "Oh, come on, Draco. I'm not that stupid. I know you get around like the Weasley girl on a Friday night."

"Don't you dare compare me to that redhead blood-traitor slut!" He pulled her against him with more force than he had originally intended. Pansy giggled.

"Sorry, Draco, but you get around. So who is it this time? You can tell me." Draco hesitated. She cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe we can have a threesome..."

Draco said nothing, but mentally he laughed at the idea. There wasn't a shot in a million years that Hermione would ever have anything to do with Pansy, and vice versa, especially not when it came to having group sex.

"I don't think she'd be interested," he smirked.

Pansy's eyes lit up with interest. "Oooh, really? Who is it, Draco? Is it Chang? I bet I could get her in bed with us. She's such a whore anyway. Y'know I've never slept with an Asian..."

Draco decided to go with Chang, which he hoped was just a lucky guess on Pansy's part. "I'll talk to her," he promised. The last thing he needed was Pansy trying to get Chang into her bed. Actually, he mused, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. It'd be perfect blackmail...

"On second thought, I doubt I'll have time. You talk to her. Just don't mention that me and her, y'know, she doesn't like anyone else knowing."

Pansy nodded and grinned. "You just wait. I'll make her want me so bad."

It wasn't a secret, at least among the Slytherins, anyway, that Pansy swung both ways. Many Slytherins did. It increased the chances of having something fun to do, or several things, and it made the orgies much less awkward for everyone.

Draco didn't know whether she'd actually win Cho Chang over. He had no idea whether she was into girls or not. Her whorishness was one of the worst kept secrets in all of Ravenclaw house. What he did know, however, was that she'd once had sex with half of the Ravenclaw quidditch team... all at once. That was a pretty good indicator of what she was up for.

His mind immediately returned to the present when Pansy grabbed his cock through his pants. He was fully hard and pushing against the zipper. She grabbed it and held it, squeezing gently. Draco exhaled sharply.

His mind was in a fog. Part of him was panicking. He didn't want to go back to Pansy. God knows what diseases she had picked up while he was off shagging Hermione. But, well, here she was. Ready to go. How could he pass up the opportunity, even if it was Pansy? It was just like Hermione- Mudblood, yes, but also an opportunity. A very convenient opportunity. Draco Malfoy was a man of variety. Who wanted to get tied down?

"What say we do something about your little problem, eh Draco?" Pansy cooed, falling to her knees.

"Little?" he scoffed, unbuttoning his pants. He pulled his boxers down immediately and his long cock fell out, pointing straight out at Pansy.

She giggled and took it in her hands, stroking it. "Well," she breathed, "When you put it that way it becomes a rather large problem, doesn't it?"

Draco leaned back against the sink as she began to expertly work his cock with both hands. One was jerking up and down by the tip, lightning fast, while the other worked slow spirals around the length of his shaft. He moaned low in the back of his throat.

If there was one thing he could admire Pansy for, it was that she knew what she was doing. She might be a little too experienced, by any reasonable limits, but that didn't mean that Draco wouldn't take advantage of it. With Hermione, while her amateurish innocence was a definite turn on, it just didn't produce the kind of results Pansy could get when she was doing this. She radiated confidence. This was, after all, her element.

When Draco's cock was standing straight up, she slid her hands down to the base of his shaft and leaned in closer. Her tongue snaked out from between her parted lips and ran the underside of his shaft, to the very tip. She dragged her tongue back and forth across the sensitive spot just below the tip. His moans intensified.

And then, without any warning, she wrapped her lips around the tip and took the entire length of his cock in her mouth. She took every last inch of it, pushing her nose into his abdomen, holding it there, and then, just as suddenly, she eased up the length of him again until all he could feel was the cold air of the seventh floor bathroom and her hot breath on the tip. Just for an instant. And then she devoured him again, her mouth hungry for his cock.

Draco kept the noises to an absolute minimum. It was matter of respect. He was in control here, and he had to enjoy this less than her. But despite his best attempts, he couldn't manage to regulate his breathing. She was too good. When they'd first been together, he'd always tried to control her by grabbing her head, pushing her into him. It slowed her down, threw her off. He'd long ago learned to just leave her to it. She was a slut and she was proud of it, and this was what she had to show for it.

The problem was that Pansy wasn't very controlled. She couldn't. She'd start out running things, vying with him for absolute dominance. But then she'd just want to fuck so badly that she'd completely lose it. It was happening again now. She was getting careless, traversing his entire cock with her lips, her wet tongue sliding against his shaft as she went. But she was going too fast. She was losing control.

Draco knew that this was her way of telling him that she wanted him to fuck her, immediately. But he found that he didn't want to. He thought about how she would feel next to Hermione. Hermione who was tight and innocent and very natural, versus Pansy, pale, soaking, and entirely too large. Draco considered himself to be of a fairly average size- that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he could, and had, fit his entire fist inside of her. He didn't want to do that. He didn't want to have sex with her, even if she begged him to.

He made up his mind. He let Pansy continue working her lips around his cock, except this time he allowed himself to get into it. He moaned and let his breathing fall quick and shallow. When the time was right, he pulled back, motioning for Pansy to stop. She made to stand up so that he could mount her, but he put a hand on her shoulder to keep her down. She looked up at him curiously as he began to stroke his cock.

His breathing intensified as he went faster and faster, and it was too late before she realized that he was about to orgasm. Line after line of his cum exploded onto her face, coating her nose, cheeks, lips, and chin. Every surface he could cover. Pansy immediately licked her lips and began to collect the rest from her face. Fucking typical, he thought.

"Great," Pansy whined, once she'd finished cleaning up. "Now we have to wait until you're ready again. You couldn't keep it together Draco?"

He was already doing up his pants. "Sorry, gotta run. I'll see you around." And without another word, he walked from the bathroom at a brisk pace, leaving a very angry and very horny Pansy Parkinson to contemplate her fate. She decided she'd have Chang by the end of the night, without Draco.

Elsewhere, Hermione was wrapped up in her own evening. She'd finished dinner with Ron and Harry, and enjoyed the time to just sit around and talk with her two best friends. They'd managed to take a walk around the grounds before it grew too dark, and Hermione relished it. She found that students often didn't appreciate just how astoundingly beautiful the grounds were until they were cooped up in the castle studying for exams, so she was sure to take advantage of the outdoors whenever possible. Sometimes she almost wished she was a Quidditch player, so she'd have that excuse to enjoy the grounds at all hours. But for the most part, flying simply terrified her.

The sun was just setting as they walked through the Great Hall. The ceiling was all shades of orange and red, and the intensity of it made it difficult to look at. They trudged their way up to Gryffindor tower and reluctantly decided to continue studying for their exams. Hermione wasn't really studying though, she was waiting.

She had been waiting all day, searching everywhere. She was looking for a sign, any sign, from Draco, of when they would be doing it again. Tonight was the perfect night for it, but she had heard nothing from him. And so, as Harry and Ron tried to cram various subjects before bed, she found her mind wandering once more.

Hermione had often wondered what the shaft of a broomstick would feel like inside of her. How it would fill her up. They were so thick, and long. It wasn't a fetish or anything, just a simple fantasy borne from years of sexual frustration. She was sure that she would have no problem with it- the wood was so polished and smooth. It would slide right in and fill her up.

She found it embarrassing, but for the longest time she had never imagined what it would feel like to have sex. It was simple really, to have sex; she would have to have sex with a person. That penetration had to be connected to someone. She had never been able to figure out who that person would be, and it bothered her a lot. Sometimes she would imagine it was Ron, but then she would think of his red pubic hair and it wouldn't seem so appealing anymore. She had wondered if he had freckles down there, too.

Other times it would be Harry. She imagined Harry much less awkwardly than Ron, but then she always thought of how Ron would feel about her sleeping with Harry, and suddenly it lost its appeal as well. She was stuck. So she contemplated other things, and let her fingers do the talking.

Now, she didn't need to. She had that person in Draco Malfoy, and feeling him inside her was better than she could ever have imagined it to be. It wasn't just his size, or how he held her as he fucked her, it was how his cock was so alive inside of her. It was hot, startlingly so, and throbbing. She could feel it pulsing with his need when they had sex. It made her wet just thinking about it.

She smiled secretly to herself. She wondered how her friends would react if they knew how wet she was just sitting there with them. They had no clue, they would never know unless she told them. Maybe, if they saw up her skirt... She dismissed the thought. She was too careful, and it was too dark. Nonetheless, she crossed her legs, out of paranoia. She felt a trickle of cum run slightly down her thigh. She needed to be with him tonight.

She sat there, thinking about him, waiting. Waiting for something, as the night progressed. Eventually, Ron and Harry grew bored of studying. She didn't blame them- she hadn't been able to concentrate at all. Nonetheless, she used the excuse of studying to stay up without them worrying. She was amazed at how easily they bought it. I really did have a one-track mind, didn't I? She thought. Well, now she was using that to her advantage, as she waited for him.

She couldn't study. She busied herself in any way she could, reading, knitting, and cleaning up the Common Room. An hour went by, and she was worrying. What if he didn't come? She didn't know what she'd do if she went to bed unsatisfied tonight. She was contemplating ways to turn her wand into a vibrator (she was sure it was possible, as wands occasionally vibrated during the casting of certain spells), when she saw something flash past the window.

She stared, utterly still. And then again, another flash. She couldn't make out what it was, it was only a pale blur before her eyes. She waited, and then when it flashed by again, she could clearly make out what it was.

It was Draco Malfoy, on a broom, outside of the Common Room window. No way, she thought. There was not a chance she was getting on that broom with him.

She pushed the window open. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

"Evening, Granger," he grinned. "Fancy going for a ride?"

"I very much do mind, Malfoy. You can't make me get on that thing."

Draco looked bemused. "And why not? I don't suppose you can fly on your own, can you? Haven't found that in one of your books?"

"No, in fact I haven't," she snorted. She sighed, "If you must know, it's because... I'm rather afraid of flying."

Much to her surprise, he didn't laugh at all. In fact, he seemed to be thinking. "You won't be on this broom, I can guarantee you that."

She shook her head, mortified.

"What? You'd rather spend your night in here?" he said, gesturing to the Common Room.

"No! Of course not, it's just..." she trailed off.

"You don't trust me?" Draco faked outrage.

Hermione shrugged.

"Well, you'll just have to take it on faith," he said, his grin growing wider.

Take it on faith. Easier said than done, Hermione thought. Could she really trust Malfoy? No. In her heart, she knew that this was an arrangement of convenience, and that suited her just as well as it suited him. But it also meant that she had no reason to trust him, either.

Still, she found herself acquiescing anyway. And why? Because she wanted this. She wanted it more than she feared flying, and she wanted it more than she doubted Draco. It was amazing how powerful her feelings could be. She thought it might be unwise to let her emotions rule her decisions like this, but it was much too late for that now.

Draco flew slowly in through the window and then landed noiselessly in the Common Room. At least he's smart enough to shut up now, Hermione thought. Still, his grin of victory pissed her off.

He handed her the broom first and gestured silently for her to get on. She felt extremely foolish, standing there mounting a broom in the Common Room. She figured she looked like a Muggle toddler with a toy broom, out for Halloween.

All thoughts of that notion evaporated when Draco came up behind her and mounted the broom as well, taking the handle from her hands. They rose into the air and through the large window that provided most of the light for the Tower. She was glad they didn't have to try and cram through one of the smaller windows. She could only imagine what it must be like for the Hufflepuffs trying to sneak out. She smiled as she got a mental picture of a Hufflepuff tripping over some pans in the kitchen and waking up all of the house elves.

As soon as they made it over the window ledge, and were off into the night air, her smile evaporated. It took all of her restraint to keep from yelling as they flew off, higher and higher, leaving the tower behind.

She remembered belatedly that the window was still open and yelled to Draco for them to go back and close it.

"It'll be fine," he assured her. "No one's going to see it, and if they do they sure as bloody hell won't expect that innocent Miss Granger snuck out the window on a broom to have sex with a Malfoy, yeah?"

She shakily agreed as they continued their tour. At least he'd levelled out so they weren't climbing higher anymore. As she grew more accustomed to flying (all she really had to do was hold on- and she was quite good at that, she was gripping the handle so hard all of her knuckles were white) she could take in the details.

The first thing she noticed was that this wasn't Draco's broom. The wood, though polished, was old, and it seemed somewhat long: both she and Draco fit on the broom and there was room to spare.

The next thing she noticed was that she felt good. Really good. It took her a moment to pinpoint it, and then she realized why: the broom was vibrating between her legs. Vibrating quite hard. Hermione cursed herself for wearing a skirt, on a broom of all things, but she at least had her panties between the handle and the wetness that was most definitely beginning to develop. She was sure this was intentional, but she decided to feign ignorance.

"Why is the broom doing that?" she asked Draco. They were travelling slow enough that wind noise wasn't an issue.

"Oh, you've finally noticed it, eh? Terribly unfortunate. This broom's ancient. Nicked it from the school shed. The charm's starting to wear off, so that's why it's shaking. I can't exactly sneak my broom out and back in, so I figured it'd be easier to take one of the school brooms, yeah?"

She knew that he had intentionally planned this, knowing that the vibrations from the broom would make her horny. They were flying across the grounds, and he was engaged in foreplay at the same time. She rolled her eyes. Only a Malfoy.

Finally, they began to descend. They were heading for a stand of trees on the shore of the Black Lake. Draco touched down gracefully, even as Hermione dug her feet into the ground in panic. It was too late before she realized she wasn't wearing any shoes and lifted her feet again. She couldn't imagine the state of her socks now.

Draco stepped off the broom behind her, allowing her to disembark at her own pace. She was determined not to make a fool of herself, but she'd never gotten off a broom before after flying. Well, not without landing face first in the dirt, anyway. Draco had his wand out, but she didn't notice.

Her attempt to get off the broom ended in disaster and she inevitably pitched headlong into the ground- but the grass seemed to cushion her fall, like a cloud. It was extraordinarily odd. It felt like grass. She knew that it was normal ground beneath her, but it was so soft.

She lay there on her back, dizzy and disoriented. She thought that she would take the stairs next time, if she had the choice.

Which she probably didn't, she mused.

She was snapped out of her reverie when Draco laid down next to her. He put his arm around her and pulled her against him, until she was half on top of him, looking up at the night sky.

She thought back to her third year, when all of the students had slept in the Great Hall as the castle was searched for Sirius Black. It didn't even come close to what she was experiencing now.

She turned to look at Draco. Her eyes closed as she leaned in to kiss him, and as they began the delicate game of cat and mouse their tongues played, the insides of her eyelids went white with a flash.

Her eyes came open in a second, pausing to look over Draco's shoulder. It was lightning. Great brilliant sheets of electricity alighting over the mountains behind the castle.

Draco looked where she was looking and then saw the lightning as well. "We should move. Trees aren't terribly safe to be under in a lightning storm."

But Hermione shook her head. "Look at the stars. It's clear above us. It must just be heat lightning." Draco checked the sky and marvelled at her assessment, leaning in to kiss her once more.

Their limbs entangled with their tongues, and the lightning continued to explode in the distance, briefly lighting the massive hillsides beyond the castle for any who cared to look. Draco and Hermione both had their eyes closed, too intent on the twining of their tongues.

Draco had broken the kiss and then was kissing around her collarbone, into the center of her chest, and then her shirt disappeared, Draco, a flurry of limbs removing it from her. He tossed his own off with it. The night air was humid, but not overbearing. Hermione did not at all mind being rid of her shirt.

She had on a white lace bra, patterned intricately, but none too revealing. Draco left it on, kissing her breasts around the bra, his hands kneading into the bare skin of her back. Finally, when she was about to reach back herself, he unclasped it, untangled it from her arms, and threw it into the growing pile of clothes beneath the tree.

Hermione was playing a game with herself. She would try and focus on aspects of the tree, try not to notice what Draco was doing to her, to test his power over her. Right now, she was watching the gentle sway of the tallest limbs. She noticed that the taller branches were swaying slightly, implying that, high up, there might be a breeze. There was nothing down here on the ground. The air was still, electrified. She watched the thousands of leaves, watched the limbs gently sway back and forth-

And then Draco took her breasts in his hands, and she forgot all about the tree that stood behind them. He was massaging them gently, pushing them together slightly, while his tongue returned to her mouth. She arched her back up and forced her tongue into his mouth, begging him to go on.

He continued to do as he had before, except his massaging became more forceful. Eventually his thumbs reached out, to push into her nipples, making them hard while he played with her breasts. Finally he abandoned the massaging altogether, focusing on running his thumbs across her nipples while he fought for dominance over her with his tongue. Before either party could gain a victory, he broke off the kiss, now dragging his tongue down between her breasts.

Finally, he returned to her nipples, though this time it was with his tongue. He wrapped his lips around the left, swirling his tongue quickly before switching to the right, and repeating. Back and forth he went, just long enough to cause a shock of pleasure to hit her, but not long enough for her to fully enjoy it. While this was happening Hermione became acutely aware of how wet she was.

It seemed Draco was thinking the same thing, because he skipped right over her abdomen, until his face was level with her belly button. He looked up at her and then yanked her skirt off, his eyes never leaving hers while he did so. She was wearing white lacy panties to match her bra. When he finally surveyed the damage, he let out a low whistle.

"Merlin be damned," he said. "You're lucky these are white." She felt the panties being slowly dragged off, and then she saw what he was talking about. They were transparent with wetness. Here and there she could see small flows of her own cum.

"Give me those!" she said, and her hand shot out to snatch them from him. He held them out of reach, a satisfied smirk on his face, before he tossed them into the pile.

Ignoring his satisfaction, she spread her legs apart. He leaned in again, moving up until his face was level with hers. Their foreheads were just touching, she below him, when he slid two fingers into her. They emerged covered in cum, and he sucked them clean. He buried them again, and Hermione let out a low, passionate moan. He stifled it with a kiss, his tongue wrapping around hers. She moaned into his mouth and he loved the feeling of it.

She felt like there was heat lightning flashing inside her head. She was hot with need for him, and chances are her cum was leaking down his wrist by now. But she didn't want to stop kissing him. She loved the feeling of his tongue inside of her mouth. It was hot and wet and incredibly soft. She loved how his lips crushed against hers with the force of his kiss. Everything about Draco Malfoy was intense. Like a panther waiting to spring.

Finally, reluctantly, he broke off the kiss, and grabbed her ass, pushing her toward him as he slid down. He attacked her with relish, loosing his tongue inside the folds of her pussy. He didn't start slow. He didn't tease her clit. He began running rapid lengths up and down her entrance, using his tongue to clean away all of the cum that had built up there. He cleared her pussy for a moment, and then dove back in, this time his lips wrapping around her clit. His tongue was pounding it, the pressure was enormous. Hermione felt her back arching involuntarily with the force of what she was experiencing. Her moans filled the air, but there were none except Draco Malfoy there to hear them.

When he stopped, she knew what was coming next, but it surprised her. She looked into his eyes and knew it was time, but why? He had just eaten her pussy better than she even knew was possible, and he asked nothing in return? She hadn't even touched his cock yet, let alone given him her usual blowjob. Perhaps it was the intensity of it all, she thought. There was no time to stop. She was ready and so was he. She stared up at the stars as he whipped his remaining clothing off.

He plunged his cock into her and she howled in pleasure, his own moan meeting hers halfway. He lay on top of her, thrusting down with all of his might, his thighs meeting hers, pounding them into the grass. He held her head against his chest, wrapped both of his arms around her neck, pulling her against him as he fucked her. Hermione was barely conscious from the pleasure. Draco's breathing was growing more and more ragged; it was all she could do to keep breathing in the first place.

It was everything she remembered and more. So much more. As she sucked in the night air, it was as though whole new doors were being opened. This was an experience unlike any other she had known. The stars melded together in her vision, the night sky becoming blurred with the haze of pleasure that had firmly enveloped her. He lay her head back on the grass, pushing his into her neck. She could feel his breath on her collarbone, feel his soft blond hair against her skin. If she had any control of her limbs, she would've pushed his head into her breast. She wanted to feel his hair. But as it stood, she didn't. The orgasm that was building inside had stripped her of all control. The only thing in the entire universe that she was aware of was Draco Malfoy above her, thrusting his long, hard cock into her at a breakneck pace.

Her pussy, tight as ever, was on fire. It was everything she wanted. She could feel the life inside of her, feel the pulse of Draco's cock, his cock, as it flooded in and out of her. With each thrust it seemed he pushed deeper inside her, every time he withdrew it seemed like her inner walls grabbed onto him, as if trying to force him to remain within. Her whole body ached to have him inside of her.

"Draco," she managed to whisper. He looked up at her.

"I need you to... cum. Now."

He managed a small smile that quickly became contorted with passion.

"Way... ahead of you."

And he slammed his cock inside of her, as deep as he could manage, so hard she was sure it would bruise, and he came. He came with a force she could scarcely imagine. He crushed her body against his as his cum exploded into her walls. She could feel it inside of her, all of the hot, wet cum that came out of him. And there was so much. It pushed her over the edge.

He hadn't finished cumming when she began her own orgasm. She began with tiny panic moans. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," she repeated over and over again, in a hoarse whisper that gradually grew louder until she was yelling, yelling his name. "DRACO, YES. YES, YES, FUCKING YES, DRACO."

Her back arched once more, pushing her entire body up as she spasmed beneath him. Her words soon lost all form, degenerating into a low scream that seemed to fill her entire mind. Her pussy clutched his cock in a vice and held him there as wave after wave of pleasure collided with her, rolling her eyes up into her head, forcing her to hang on to Draco or be carried away forever. And so she clung to him, until the waves gradually receded, until the buzzing in her head stopped, and until her voice trailed off into breathing again.

She lay back on the grass, and then he to, beside her. She realized that he'd been holding perfectly still, suspended above her for her entire orgasm. And then she realized that it might have only been a minute long. She reeled at this. It felt as though time itself had stopped for her. He was still inside of her, though he finally pulled out and pushed his cock against her abdomen, sticky cum coating the area.

Once her breathing had returned to normal, she looked down. "Oh, see what you've done? Gone and made a mess already, have you?"

He grinned at her. "Well, I suppose you can count your blessing that most of the mess is inside of you, eh?"

She nodded her agreement, before reaching down to take his cock in her hands. He groaned, pushing against her.

She put on an air of mock astonishment, "Really Draco? Already? My, you are hard to satisfy."

She pulled her fingers from his cock and dragged them across her abdomen, cleaning up the cum that had spilled there.

"You know I love how you taste," she whispered, licking her fingers clean.

"I can say the same about you," he growled.

And they fell silent. He pulled her against him and they laid there, in the darkness, for a long time. Saying nothing, doing nothing. Listening to heartbeats, the sounds of the lake, the tree swaying ever so slightly above them, staring off into the pool of stars and inky blackness that was the sky.

That night, the universe had stopped for them. Everything else ceased to exist. All of their worries and all of their cares, vanished, as if carried away on an invisible breeze. There was no magic and there was no war. There was no blood.

There was no Hermione Granger, and there was no Draco Malfoy.

There was only one.