Round Eight, Challenge Two Voting Poll
It’s time for week two's Words of Love!
Welcome all to the celebration of Dramione's Tenth Anniversary.
A couple of things to remember when deciding which drabbles to vote for (most and least favorite):
Guidelines:
As a voter, you have the option of leaving a brief statement about why you voted the way you did, for both most and least favorite. Your feedback will then be given to the drabble writer (if they want the feedback) ANONYMOUSLY.
Example: Most - #40: the ending was brilliant - OR - Least - #57: the ending fell flat
Please remember writers, that you may not vote for yourselves.
Here we go for week two!
Choose your favorite and least favorite drabbles. Favorites will receive +1 point per vote, and least favorites -1 point per vote.
Voting ends at 11:59pm, Friday, May 6th.
Words: Naked and Illicit
Definitions: Hermione's POV
Related Forms: 100-499 words
1
Title: Fall Together
Author: mister_otter
Rating: PG
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 494
There were two things that frightened Hermione Granger-the sound of footsteps in a house she knew to be empty, and her desire, naked and illicit, for a man she wasn’t supposed to have.
She felt her friends could read it on her face whenever his name was mentioned. The hunger. The passion. It made her reach deep into the core of her being, to see if there were anything more, and she’d come to a startling conclusion.
Hermione Granger loved Draco Malfoy, a man whose heart had until recently lain in enemy territory.
Yes, the war had ended. But its losses were still so raw. There would be no acceptance among her compatriots, no quarter given, if her feelings for Draco were revealed.
Now she waited for him in a bombed-out shell of a building that no one wanted and no one planned to restore. He hadn’t said why they were meeting, but intuition told her he was leaving. That possibility, and her reaction to it, shook her.
The always-practical, always-alert Gryffindor had been caught off guard by her feelings for a Slytherin, the same way she and Harry were surprised by Nagini in that hulk of a house where Bathilda Bagshot had died.
The first night she’d spent with Draco had torn apart her preconceived notions, leaving a different Hermione the next day. Her feelings for Ron seemed like child’s play compared to what she felt for Malfoy.
And now he was here to tell her it was over, she had no doubt.
Footsteps.
Then, “Hermione.” Her name echoed in the ruined building, arcing toward the roof like a flight of swallows. She didn’t turn. Couldn’t face him. Didn’t want to hear the word ‘goodbye.’
“I’ve come to tell you that I’m leaving.”
Her knees almost buckled, but she locked them in place and stood her ground.
“I don’t belong here anymore. I need a new start, elsewhere.”
”So, this is the end?” Chin up, she took immense pride in the fact that her voice shook only a little
“The end?” Draco sounded startled. “No.” He moved forward, his hands gripping her shoulders. “I’ve come to ask if you could possibly see your way… to coming with me?”
His touch was replaced by the sound of crackling parchment. “I’ve made a list, you see-of all the places you told me you’d like to visit.”
Hermione remembered the nights when, passion spent, they lay talking of faraway places, exotic lands.
Turning to face him at last, she was startled by his look of naked pleading. “It needn’t be illicit, Hermione. We could get married. I’ve all the money we’ll ever need. And all the love.”
Hermione reached out, grasping his hands with both of hers and crumpling the parchment between them. He loved her. He’d listened to her. He’d made a list.
“Draco,” she whispered. “Yes. Anywhere.”
Relief in his eyes. The hint of a smile. “I’ve a Portkey for number 5.”
2
Title: Dress in Denial
Author: akinriahtram
Rating: 14A
Warning(s): Language. Sex implication.
Word Count: 494
It took me forty-eight breaths in order to calm the urge to hex Pansy.
“What. Is. This?” My faced was contorted into a flabbergasted guise at the article draping on the hanger, “I did not sign myself up to be naked!”
“What are you talking about?” Pansy’s asked in an innocuous tone that didn’t complement the devious smile pasted on her face.
“You requested me to fill in a spot for your model, not a slut!”
Pansy gasped and put a hand over the left side of her heart. “I did not just hear my best friend say that. You know are you offending the designer greatly by disparaging her designs, and that person happens to be me, Pansy Parkinson, the classiest person in the twenty-first century.”
A saccharine smile returned and for a moment, she looked malicious, “And who knows, with this outfit, you might just find someone to shag you.”
“Who needs guys?” I huffed, “I don’t.”
“O honey, it’s obvious you need to find yourself a man. Besides, you’ve already promised, and we both know damn well that it isn’t in your nature to break a promise.”
I eyed the slightly see-through dress that was way too ostentatious for her with disgust. Pansy, being her fashionable self, refused to let me wear anything beneath it.
Curse Pansy and her sneaky and cunning Slytherin traits. Curse myself for being a chivalrous Gryffindor and accepting a friend’s request in need.
“This is illicit, you know! You signed me up in a one contract against my will!” I accused hotly.
Pansy rolled her delicate eyes and pushed me into the changing rooms and in a singsong voice, she chirped, “Tonight’s the night for you to shine!”
oOoOoOoOo
“Who would’ve thought Hermione Granger to pull of such a strut?”
Digging my fingernails into my palm, I turned around to face the all too familiar haughty voice. “I’m not in a mood for games, Malfoy.”
Malfoy shrugged and leaned against the frame of the doorway, staring at the outfit that Pansy conjured up. Consciously, I brought my arms over my chest. “It’s not a big deal, it’s not like there’s anything I haven’t seen. I must admit, if we were still together, I would’ve shag you already.
“You’re a jackass,” the words escaped my gritted teeth. “Even if you kiss me, I won’t surrender to you.”
He snorted, “I highly doubt that.”
My blood boiled and I reached out to grab the collar of his dress shirt, “I’ll prove it to you now.”
“I’d like to see you try.” He hissed back.
The moment his lips collided with me, Malfoy’s tongue battled viciously against mine, and I knew how stupid I must have been to make that bet.
Damn Malfoy for his godly kisses. Damn Pansy for her delusional idea of sex in the goddamn dress. Damn the outrageous dress. Damn myself for rising up to the challenge. Fuck.
I’m most definitely not returning home tonight.
3
Title: An Illicit Affair
Author: mihnn
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 499
Hermione took her time as she stretched languidly in bed. Looking over at her companion, she smiled softly as she lightly touched the pale blond hair that had fallen across his eyes. She couldn't help but marvel that even after over two decades of knowing him, he still had that innocent boyish look whenever he slept soundly.
Lifting the covers from her waist, she reached for her robe and tiptoed out of her bedroom, looking forward to preparing breakfast for her and the man fast asleep in her bed.
But, someone beat her to it.
"Honey," Hermione sputtered in surprise as she pulled the robe tightly around her. "What are you doing here?"
Her daughter looked at her in confusion as she pulled open the refrigerator. "We're meeting my fiancé’s family for brunch, remember?" Her daughter then looked up and narrowed her eyes at Hermione. "Why aren't you dressed yet? It's nearly ten."
"Oh. I was...about to get dressed. Just woke up. Long night, last night," Hermione sputtered nervously.
Her daughter's eyes stared at her suspiciously. "Are you hiding something?"
"What? Me? No," Hermione squeaked, cursing the fact that her daughter could read her so well. It was a gift she had passed down through genetics, apparently.
And as fate would have it, the man who was supposed to stay hidden, stumbled out of her bedroom at that moment and grinned at the two of them as if nothing was amiss. Needless to say, her daughter stared at them both dumbfounded as Hermione winced, expecting a good telling to.
"Please tell me you two aren't having an illicit affair."
Draco stepped closer to Hermione and put an arm around her waist, a huge grin playing on his lips. "Of course not. We were just getting re-acquainted." He looked down at Hermione, his gaze predatory. "While naked."
Hermione inwardly groaned.
Her daughter pinched the bridge of her nose almost as if she was fighting a headache. "I should have known." Then, shaking it off, she looked at them both sternly. "I assume you two are back together?"
Hermione jabbed her elbow in Draco's side to stop him from spurting out nonsense while she nodded.
"And did you break up with Anya?" she asked, glaring at Draco.
"It was casual!" he said waving it off.
"Dad!"
"Yes, Princess. I'll send her a card." The only response was two glares sent his way.
"Then I'll meet you two at the restaurant in half an hour." Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her purse and stalked off. Hermione could barely hear her daughter mumble, 'Why you got divorced last month in the first place is beyond me'.
Draco waited until the door closed to smirk at her. "That went well."
Hermione glared at him, then smacked his shoulder. "That did not go well."
Draco simply chuckled before bending down to give her a smouldering kiss.
Hermione smiled as his fingers immediately went to work disrobing her. They could afford to get a little late.
4
Title:Guilt
Author: strawberry_kait
Rating:K
Warning(s):None
Word Count:496
Hermione was already half convinced of her husband’s guilt before she opened the door to the study.
She gasped aloud, causing Draco to turn quickly away as he shoved a piece of parchment noisily into a desk drawer. He turned back, the briefest look of absolute guilt crossing his face just before a brilliant, if exaggerated, smile.
Hermione stormed towards him. “Don’t bother. We both know what I saw.”
“What did you see, darling?”
She scoffed, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. The nerve of him. “I’m not an imbecile, darling,” she tossed his nickname back. Her eyes narrowed as he managed to body-check her attempts to retrieve the evidence. Finally, she managed it and quickly read it through.
“You promised me,” she whispered.
“I know, but -”
“You said it was over,” she said, cutting him off before facing him.
He gave her a sheepish look, which enraged her further. Rolling the parchment, she began to smack him about. Amid yelps and interjections, she let loose a barrage of words she’d deny even knowing, let alone saying.
When enough steam had been vented, Hermione threw the weapon aside and stepped away. After nearly ten years together, the man she loved, her partner, had betrayed her trust. She ought to be hurt, not just angry. Looking about the study, she questioned the pieces surrounding them, doubting their validity. Hermione held her tongue as she listened to him retrieve the rolled parchment. At last, she was calm enough to act like an adult.
Hermione faced him. “You know I disapprove.”
“Yes.”
That was wise of him, to not argue. At least ten years had taught him something.
“And I should tell Harry.” For an instant she relished the fear in his eyes. Good. “But I won’t…”
Draco smiled. He had the audacity to actually smile at her. Hermione worried that perhaps she was going soft. Obviously, he thought it too, as he slowly made his way towards her. Draco rubbed her arms up and down soothingly.
“I’m very angry, Draco,” Hermione insisted, fighting a smile. He nodded, tilting down to kiss her neck just beneath her ear.
“It’s reprehensible, you know,” she continued less sternly, her eyes closing as he began to suckle her neck. “Illicit antiques are counterproductive to collecting, and…”
Somehow her blouse had come unbuttoned and was falling off her arms.
“And purchasing such things robs not only the excavation…” Her thoughts were scattering away under his advances and murmurs. “But also all of society, who is made poorer from the lack of provenance and… historic data…and…and you swore to me you were finished with all that.”
He purred an agreement while his hands roamed down to her backside, giving her a squeeze as he bit her lip, momentarily silencing her. Draco smiled mischievously down at his wife.
“Arse grabbing and passionate kisses won’t shut me up forever, you know.”
“Yes, I know. But let’s just concentrate on the here and now, shall we?”
5
Title: Dip It Low, Pick It Up Slow
Author: ellielove_x3
Rating: PG-13, light R
Warning(s): slight nudity and dirty dancing
Word Count: 496
Hermione slowly moved her olive around in her martini glass, not paying attention to her surroundings on purpose. She did not want to be at some nightclub no matter how much her co-worker and good friend, Hannah Abbott, begged and pleaded. In her opinion, a bachelorette party was better off at a house where they could be as crazy as they wanted in private. Yet somehow, she agreed to watch her friends get tipsy and make fools out of themselves in this public nightclub.
Hearing a new song coming from the stage behind her, Hermione kept her eyes on her martini, not wanting to watch the different men participate in the Slinky Chic club’s amateur night. Right now, all of the male volunteers were gyrating and getting a slew of dollar bills from her friends and other women in the club, but Hermione was too hung up over her recent, and incredibly ridiculous, fight with her boyfriend.
“Give a round of applause for our next performer, Drake!” the announcer shouted, soon drowned out by the screams of the women in the club.
Hermione didn’t think anything was peculiar about the name until she heard someone whisper to their friend: “I’ve always had a weakness for blonde boys.” The brunette swiftly turned around, her eyes widening as she watched her boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, gyrate his hips and give a smoldering gaze to the women huddled up close to the stage.
What is he doing? Hermione thought to herself, mesmerized by the stripper moves Draco was pulling off with that familiar air of confidence and ease. Since when could he “drop it low” like that? Sweet Circe, he looked way too damn sexy doing so. Then, their eyes locked intensely as he tore off his pants, earning a new round wolf whistles, but Hermione was frozen in place. With the look of hunger in his eyes and the look of confusion in hers, she was surprised he didn’t cock a finger at her to bring her closer.
The moment ended once Draco turned around and shook his bony hips, showing off his firm arse outlined by a tight black Speedo. With her hand covering her rapidly beating heart, the dance was suddenly in slow motion as Draco tantalizingly pulled off the Speedo, giving the audience a teasing look at his goods. Hermione’s mouth dropped in shock and anger, but she somehow recovered to catch the garment as the blasted git deliberately threw it at her.
He winked at the shocked brunette playfully and suggestively once the song ended before disappearing behind the silvery curtain. His parting words rang in her ear: “Stop beating around the bush Hermione; give in to your desires. I’ll prove your attraction for me before the month is over.”
Squeezing the Speedo in her hand, Hermione quickly jumped up and ran outside to find the apparition point, ignoring her friends’ curious and encouraging looks.
She had a wizard to give her own show to.
6
Title: The Flash
Author: dollfaced
Rating: T
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 100 exactly!
“What is that?” Ginny asked, stopping dead in her tracks.
Hermione peered down the street and spied a flash of nearly glowing white weaving through the crowds. People seemed to be backing away in horror as the object approached.
She squinted to get a better look. It couldn’t be.
Ginny whispered, “Is that who I think it is?”
Hermione gulped and nodded slowly.
“He’s going to get arrested for such illicit behavior,” Ginny warned.
A whoosh of gasps sounded as the man ran past them.
With an approving grin, Ginny noted, “Not bad, considering it’s January.”
“What about January?”
“Shrinkage.”
7
Title: A Good Fit
Author: pagan_toon76
Rating: R
Warning(s): Imlplied sexual situations
Word Count: 498
"Be reasonable,” Hermione said exasperatedly to her companion. “Take off your clothes.”
“I don’t want to” was the petulant response.
Hermione sighed. “This won’t work if you’ve got your pants on.”
The boxers were thrust down and kicked off, accompanied by a sulky “Fine, but I don’t have to like it.”
“Right now, I’m not exactly keen on this endeavour either.” Hermione grimaced and walked towards her husband of just over two hours. She glanced down; true enough, he hadn’t even managed to summon up the requisite enthusiasm to bed her.
Her husband arched a blond brow. “I recall you proposed to me, Granger. In fact, need I mention that little bit of blackmail you employed to get me to agree?”
She flushed at that reminder of her little illicit act in ensuring his cooperation.
He smirked. “I even heard tell that you scared off all the other witches who aspired to be Mrs. Draco Malfoy. Something about hexing them to remain virgo intacta infinitum?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not apologising for taking whatever actions I deemed necessary to get what I wanted.”
“Well, what are you waiting for then?” he asked, a sly grin crossing his pale, pointy features. “I’m already undressed.” He threw himself down on the bed and spread his arms and legs wide. She got an eyeful: a pale, leanly muscled chest; long strong legs and arms; and everything else in between. “Have at it.”
“Do you need to make everything sound so sordid?” She ignored Malfoy’s chuckle.
“Granger, you wanted me, you’ve got me.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Can’t get enough of my body, eh?”
She pretended to inspect him as she shrugged off her robes and climbed onto the bed. He was staring intently at her chest. She smirked and continued as if unaware of his sudden interest in parts of her anatomy. “It’s passable, but that’s not what’s important to me.”
“Passable?” Malfoy scowled.
“I told you why I chose you. I know we’ll complement each other.” She looked at him smugly. “Don’t tell me you didn’t like the fact that I was cunning enough to manoeuvre you into this.”
“Well, I never thought you the scheming type. It doesn’t go with your usual bookworm cum librarian look, but it is rather impressive,” he admitted.
“I knew you were smart enough to see it my way.” She shifted and pressed against him, her hand slowly rubbing across his stomach. She heard his breath hitch and inwardly smiled. He wasn’t that uninterested now.
“Did you make a list of my attributes?” he asked.
She nodded.
“How very intriguing, Granger.” He sounded amused, albeit rather breathless.
She moved her hand lower. “I know we’ll be a good fit, Malfoy.” She looked down his torso: he was blatantly enthusiastic now. “Would you like to see the list?”
He reared up and settled himself over her. “Later. Right now, I’d like to see if I can fit this into you.”
She smiled in response.
8
Title: Illegal Progeny
Author: bookishwench
Rating: PG
Warning(s): threatening imagery
Word Count:499
“Hermione Jean Granger, you are accused of crimes against wizarding purity,” Umbridge says, giving me a wide, hungry smile. “I don’t think we need to put forward evidence when the defendant is so infamous, but a few of our number may find it diverting.”
Lucius Malfoy nods aristocratically, his eyes crackling with barely suppressed lust. He’s always loved to watch things in pain. I hold my head up a little higher.
“High Inquisitor Umbridge, the Wizengamot has deduced that this girl was involved in illicit copulation with a pure-blood wizard, and that she is carrying the spawn of the union,” Dolohov recites from a scroll, sneering at me. “After repeated questioning, she remains intractable and will not reveal the name of her accomplice.”
“You have been very, very naughty Miss Granger,” Umbridge says sweetly, “and naughty people must be punished.”
I know what’s coming. The simplest way to get rid of the whole problem is to kill me along with the baby. I’ve known death would come for me eventually, but I’d rather it didn’t take my baby.
“Alecto,” Umbridge warbles like a demented sparrow, “fetch the Dementor.”
At that, my head whips around, and I know my mouth is open in shock.
“Miss Granger, you’re to be a scientific study,” she says. “The effects of the Kiss on a wizard in the embryonic state have never been recorded before.”
I’m screaming, willing myself to do wandless magic in spite of the shackles lacing me to the spot, and then I feel the cold approaching and my voice dies in my throat.
It’s coming.
It’s coming for me.
It’s coming for the little one.
Umbridge’s cat, Lucius’s hawk, and Dolohov’s bear are prowling the edges of the room, the ghostly glow of the Patronuses a wall not protecting but imprisoning me with the cloaked figure detaching itself from the shadows, hissing obscenely.
I close my eyes and think of the memory of every sunrise, every Christmas, the warmth of his arms. But I feel that thing plucking each one away, leaving me naked and cold. Green light bursts against my closed eyelids, and I almost hope it’s Avada Kedavra. But it’s not.
I see the otter glowing in the darkness, and the Dementor retreats into nothing. It gambols towards me, and the chains drop to the ground. As I almost fall, arms go around me, and I recognize the scent of him. I don’t know how he’s done this, and he’ll undoubtedly be insufferable about it, but I’m not about to complain.
“Now if you’ll excuse us,” Draco says to a literally Stunned Umbridge, “and even if you won’t, you pathetic hag, my bride and I are leaving. Father, don’t expect an invitation to the birth.”
And we’re Apparating in a whirl of color and light, and there’s grass under my feet and blue sky above and fresh air and a thousand beautiful things the Dementor had made me forget ever existed.
“Took you long enough,” I finally say.
9
Title: Care of Non-Magical Creatures
Author: eevilalice
Rating: PG
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 490
Back at Hogwarts, post-war, and I’ve become Harry sixth year, creeping around after Malfoy in the dead of night.
At least it’s sheer curiosity, not suspicion, driving me to crack the Transfig classroom door and peer into the moonlit space.
Turned away, his hair glows like a hard-won halo. Everything’s been too neat about Malfoy this year: appearance, schoolwork, behavior. But I suppose we’re all trying hard to get back on track, or right the track we used to be on.
Movement at his elbow. Again.
Is he…? A flush heats my face, spreads like electricity down to my chest. But why would he come all the way down here to do…that?
Then, a clucking.
Alright. This is too bizarre.
Pushing the door wide with an alarming creak, I advance on Malfoy, his pale face panicked as he turns, cradling some long, fleshy, wriggling thing.
“Shh,” he soothes. It takes me a second to realize he’s not addressing me, but the thing now squealing in his arms.
“What is that?”
“What are you doing here, Granger? Get out!” he whisper-shouts. The thing pokes its head out from the crook of Malfoy’s arm. Whiskers twitch. A small nose quivers.
“Is that a…ferret?” I can’t help the grin.
Malfoy sighs in defeat. “Go ahead. Run off and tell McGonagall.”
“Tell her what?”
He looks down at the creature, strokes its bare head with a finger. It clucks in pleasure. “I started caring for him last year, but then he got sick. Incurably. Lost all his fur. I was supposed to-” he breaks off, looking away towards the windows.
“Euthanize him?” I finish, taking a step closer. Malfoy nods. I reach out a tentative hand, touch the ferret’s skin, which is warm despite its furlessness. He clucks, and Malfoy’s eyes shift to me, wide with surprise.
“How much time does he have?”
Malfoy’s gaze falls; his voice is small as he answers, “A week or so?” Our fingers touch as we pet the sick animal.
“Can I help?”
“There’s not much to be done. I just give him something for the pain.”
But he assents, and over the next several nights I learn the ferret’s name is “Phoebus,” help administer the pain draught, clean his cage with its magically constructed false bottom, which hides him from sight.
Night eight is hard; Phoebus is listless, the draught not enough. I take Malfoy’s hand. I don’t know what else to do.
Night nine he takes mine.
Night ten we find Phoebus still and silent, and Malfoy cries. My chest and throat constrict. I toy with my fingers, raise and lower my arms a couple times before wrapping them around him. He holds on so tight it hurts, and then he’s kissing me, salty and wet.
That morning before lessons, we bury him near Hagrid’s.
“He was…a good ferret,” Malfoy says lamely, sincerely.
“You’ll be even better someday.” His cheek is warm beneath my hand.
ooo
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Poll Round 8 Challenge #2
For readers, supporters, lovers of everything dramione -
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Come Celebrate Dramione's Tenth Anniversary
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This Week: Naked and Illicit (some drabbles have an R rating)
Voting ends 11:59 EST (GMT -4) Friday, May 6th
To Get this Pretty for your Journal - Spread the Drabble Love!
Come Celebrate Dramione's Tenth Anniversary
Click the Invite to Read & Vote!
This Week: Naked and Illicit (some drabbles have an R rating)
Voting ends 11:59 EST (GMT -4) Friday, May 6th
Please spread the word and thanks for dropping by!
Welcome all to the celebration of Dramione's Tenth Anniversary.
A couple of things to remember when deciding which drabbles to vote for (most and least favorite):
Guidelines:
- Which drabble best incorporates the prompt?
- Is the drabble clever, different, fresh? Does it evoke an emotional response (good or bad)?
- Does the drabble contain grammar, canon or spelling errors?
As a voter, you have the option of leaving a brief statement about why you voted the way you did, for both most and least favorite. Your feedback will then be given to the drabble writer (if they want the feedback) ANONYMOUSLY.
Example: Most - #40: the ending was brilliant - OR - Least - #57: the ending fell flat
Please remember writers, that you may not vote for yourselves.
Here we go for week two!
Choose your favorite and least favorite drabbles. Favorites will receive +1 point per vote, and least favorites -1 point per vote.
Voting ends at 11:59pm, Friday, May 6th.
Words: Naked and Illicit
Definitions: Hermione's POV
Related Forms: 100-499 words
1
Title: Fall Together
Author: mister_otter
Rating: PG
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 494
There were two things that frightened Hermione Granger-the sound of footsteps in a house she knew to be empty, and her desire, naked and illicit, for a man she wasn’t supposed to have.
She felt her friends could read it on her face whenever his name was mentioned. The hunger. The passion. It made her reach deep into the core of her being, to see if there were anything more, and she’d come to a startling conclusion.
Hermione Granger loved Draco Malfoy, a man whose heart had until recently lain in enemy territory.
Yes, the war had ended. But its losses were still so raw. There would be no acceptance among her compatriots, no quarter given, if her feelings for Draco were revealed.
Now she waited for him in a bombed-out shell of a building that no one wanted and no one planned to restore. He hadn’t said why they were meeting, but intuition told her he was leaving. That possibility, and her reaction to it, shook her.
The always-practical, always-alert Gryffindor had been caught off guard by her feelings for a Slytherin, the same way she and Harry were surprised by Nagini in that hulk of a house where Bathilda Bagshot had died.
The first night she’d spent with Draco had torn apart her preconceived notions, leaving a different Hermione the next day. Her feelings for Ron seemed like child’s play compared to what she felt for Malfoy.
And now he was here to tell her it was over, she had no doubt.
Footsteps.
Then, “Hermione.” Her name echoed in the ruined building, arcing toward the roof like a flight of swallows. She didn’t turn. Couldn’t face him. Didn’t want to hear the word ‘goodbye.’
“I’ve come to tell you that I’m leaving.”
Her knees almost buckled, but she locked them in place and stood her ground.
“I don’t belong here anymore. I need a new start, elsewhere.”
”So, this is the end?” Chin up, she took immense pride in the fact that her voice shook only a little
“The end?” Draco sounded startled. “No.” He moved forward, his hands gripping her shoulders. “I’ve come to ask if you could possibly see your way… to coming with me?”
His touch was replaced by the sound of crackling parchment. “I’ve made a list, you see-of all the places you told me you’d like to visit.”
Hermione remembered the nights when, passion spent, they lay talking of faraway places, exotic lands.
Turning to face him at last, she was startled by his look of naked pleading. “It needn’t be illicit, Hermione. We could get married. I’ve all the money we’ll ever need. And all the love.”
Hermione reached out, grasping his hands with both of hers and crumpling the parchment between them. He loved her. He’d listened to her. He’d made a list.
“Draco,” she whispered. “Yes. Anywhere.”
Relief in his eyes. The hint of a smile. “I’ve a Portkey for number 5.”
2
Title: Dress in Denial
Author: akinriahtram
Rating: 14A
Warning(s): Language. Sex implication.
Word Count: 494
It took me forty-eight breaths in order to calm the urge to hex Pansy.
“What. Is. This?” My faced was contorted into a flabbergasted guise at the article draping on the hanger, “I did not sign myself up to be naked!”
“What are you talking about?” Pansy’s asked in an innocuous tone that didn’t complement the devious smile pasted on her face.
“You requested me to fill in a spot for your model, not a slut!”
Pansy gasped and put a hand over the left side of her heart. “I did not just hear my best friend say that. You know are you offending the designer greatly by disparaging her designs, and that person happens to be me, Pansy Parkinson, the classiest person in the twenty-first century.”
A saccharine smile returned and for a moment, she looked malicious, “And who knows, with this outfit, you might just find someone to shag you.”
“Who needs guys?” I huffed, “I don’t.”
“O honey, it’s obvious you need to find yourself a man. Besides, you’ve already promised, and we both know damn well that it isn’t in your nature to break a promise.”
I eyed the slightly see-through dress that was way too ostentatious for her with disgust. Pansy, being her fashionable self, refused to let me wear anything beneath it.
Curse Pansy and her sneaky and cunning Slytherin traits. Curse myself for being a chivalrous Gryffindor and accepting a friend’s request in need.
“This is illicit, you know! You signed me up in a one contract against my will!” I accused hotly.
Pansy rolled her delicate eyes and pushed me into the changing rooms and in a singsong voice, she chirped, “Tonight’s the night for you to shine!”
oOoOoOoOo
“Who would’ve thought Hermione Granger to pull of such a strut?”
Digging my fingernails into my palm, I turned around to face the all too familiar haughty voice. “I’m not in a mood for games, Malfoy.”
Malfoy shrugged and leaned against the frame of the doorway, staring at the outfit that Pansy conjured up. Consciously, I brought my arms over my chest. “It’s not a big deal, it’s not like there’s anything I haven’t seen. I must admit, if we were still together, I would’ve shag you already.
“You’re a jackass,” the words escaped my gritted teeth. “Even if you kiss me, I won’t surrender to you.”
He snorted, “I highly doubt that.”
My blood boiled and I reached out to grab the collar of his dress shirt, “I’ll prove it to you now.”
“I’d like to see you try.” He hissed back.
The moment his lips collided with me, Malfoy’s tongue battled viciously against mine, and I knew how stupid I must have been to make that bet.
Damn Malfoy for his godly kisses. Damn Pansy for her delusional idea of sex in the goddamn dress. Damn the outrageous dress. Damn myself for rising up to the challenge. Fuck.
I’m most definitely not returning home tonight.
3
Title: An Illicit Affair
Author: mihnn
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 499
Hermione took her time as she stretched languidly in bed. Looking over at her companion, she smiled softly as she lightly touched the pale blond hair that had fallen across his eyes. She couldn't help but marvel that even after over two decades of knowing him, he still had that innocent boyish look whenever he slept soundly.
Lifting the covers from her waist, she reached for her robe and tiptoed out of her bedroom, looking forward to preparing breakfast for her and the man fast asleep in her bed.
But, someone beat her to it.
"Honey," Hermione sputtered in surprise as she pulled the robe tightly around her. "What are you doing here?"
Her daughter looked at her in confusion as she pulled open the refrigerator. "We're meeting my fiancé’s family for brunch, remember?" Her daughter then looked up and narrowed her eyes at Hermione. "Why aren't you dressed yet? It's nearly ten."
"Oh. I was...about to get dressed. Just woke up. Long night, last night," Hermione sputtered nervously.
Her daughter's eyes stared at her suspiciously. "Are you hiding something?"
"What? Me? No," Hermione squeaked, cursing the fact that her daughter could read her so well. It was a gift she had passed down through genetics, apparently.
And as fate would have it, the man who was supposed to stay hidden, stumbled out of her bedroom at that moment and grinned at the two of them as if nothing was amiss. Needless to say, her daughter stared at them both dumbfounded as Hermione winced, expecting a good telling to.
"Please tell me you two aren't having an illicit affair."
Draco stepped closer to Hermione and put an arm around her waist, a huge grin playing on his lips. "Of course not. We were just getting re-acquainted." He looked down at Hermione, his gaze predatory. "While naked."
Hermione inwardly groaned.
Her daughter pinched the bridge of her nose almost as if she was fighting a headache. "I should have known." Then, shaking it off, she looked at them both sternly. "I assume you two are back together?"
Hermione jabbed her elbow in Draco's side to stop him from spurting out nonsense while she nodded.
"And did you break up with Anya?" she asked, glaring at Draco.
"It was casual!" he said waving it off.
"Dad!"
"Yes, Princess. I'll send her a card." The only response was two glares sent his way.
"Then I'll meet you two at the restaurant in half an hour." Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her purse and stalked off. Hermione could barely hear her daughter mumble, 'Why you got divorced last month in the first place is beyond me'.
Draco waited until the door closed to smirk at her. "That went well."
Hermione glared at him, then smacked his shoulder. "That did not go well."
Draco simply chuckled before bending down to give her a smouldering kiss.
Hermione smiled as his fingers immediately went to work disrobing her. They could afford to get a little late.
4
Title:Guilt
Author: strawberry_kait
Rating:K
Warning(s):None
Word Count:496
Hermione was already half convinced of her husband’s guilt before she opened the door to the study.
She gasped aloud, causing Draco to turn quickly away as he shoved a piece of parchment noisily into a desk drawer. He turned back, the briefest look of absolute guilt crossing his face just before a brilliant, if exaggerated, smile.
Hermione stormed towards him. “Don’t bother. We both know what I saw.”
“What did you see, darling?”
She scoffed, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. The nerve of him. “I’m not an imbecile, darling,” she tossed his nickname back. Her eyes narrowed as he managed to body-check her attempts to retrieve the evidence. Finally, she managed it and quickly read it through.
“You promised me,” she whispered.
“I know, but -”
“You said it was over,” she said, cutting him off before facing him.
He gave her a sheepish look, which enraged her further. Rolling the parchment, she began to smack him about. Amid yelps and interjections, she let loose a barrage of words she’d deny even knowing, let alone saying.
When enough steam had been vented, Hermione threw the weapon aside and stepped away. After nearly ten years together, the man she loved, her partner, had betrayed her trust. She ought to be hurt, not just angry. Looking about the study, she questioned the pieces surrounding them, doubting their validity. Hermione held her tongue as she listened to him retrieve the rolled parchment. At last, she was calm enough to act like an adult.
Hermione faced him. “You know I disapprove.”
“Yes.”
That was wise of him, to not argue. At least ten years had taught him something.
“And I should tell Harry.” For an instant she relished the fear in his eyes. Good. “But I won’t…”
Draco smiled. He had the audacity to actually smile at her. Hermione worried that perhaps she was going soft. Obviously, he thought it too, as he slowly made his way towards her. Draco rubbed her arms up and down soothingly.
“I’m very angry, Draco,” Hermione insisted, fighting a smile. He nodded, tilting down to kiss her neck just beneath her ear.
“It’s reprehensible, you know,” she continued less sternly, her eyes closing as he began to suckle her neck. “Illicit antiques are counterproductive to collecting, and…”
Somehow her blouse had come unbuttoned and was falling off her arms.
“And purchasing such things robs not only the excavation…” Her thoughts were scattering away under his advances and murmurs. “But also all of society, who is made poorer from the lack of provenance and… historic data…and…and you swore to me you were finished with all that.”
He purred an agreement while his hands roamed down to her backside, giving her a squeeze as he bit her lip, momentarily silencing her. Draco smiled mischievously down at his wife.
“Arse grabbing and passionate kisses won’t shut me up forever, you know.”
“Yes, I know. But let’s just concentrate on the here and now, shall we?”
5
Title: Dip It Low, Pick It Up Slow
Author: ellielove_x3
Rating: PG-13, light R
Warning(s): slight nudity and dirty dancing
Word Count: 496
Hermione slowly moved her olive around in her martini glass, not paying attention to her surroundings on purpose. She did not want to be at some nightclub no matter how much her co-worker and good friend, Hannah Abbott, begged and pleaded. In her opinion, a bachelorette party was better off at a house where they could be as crazy as they wanted in private. Yet somehow, she agreed to watch her friends get tipsy and make fools out of themselves in this public nightclub.
Hearing a new song coming from the stage behind her, Hermione kept her eyes on her martini, not wanting to watch the different men participate in the Slinky Chic club’s amateur night. Right now, all of the male volunteers were gyrating and getting a slew of dollar bills from her friends and other women in the club, but Hermione was too hung up over her recent, and incredibly ridiculous, fight with her boyfriend.
“Give a round of applause for our next performer, Drake!” the announcer shouted, soon drowned out by the screams of the women in the club.
Hermione didn’t think anything was peculiar about the name until she heard someone whisper to their friend: “I’ve always had a weakness for blonde boys.” The brunette swiftly turned around, her eyes widening as she watched her boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, gyrate his hips and give a smoldering gaze to the women huddled up close to the stage.
What is he doing? Hermione thought to herself, mesmerized by the stripper moves Draco was pulling off with that familiar air of confidence and ease. Since when could he “drop it low” like that? Sweet Circe, he looked way too damn sexy doing so. Then, their eyes locked intensely as he tore off his pants, earning a new round wolf whistles, but Hermione was frozen in place. With the look of hunger in his eyes and the look of confusion in hers, she was surprised he didn’t cock a finger at her to bring her closer.
The moment ended once Draco turned around and shook his bony hips, showing off his firm arse outlined by a tight black Speedo. With her hand covering her rapidly beating heart, the dance was suddenly in slow motion as Draco tantalizingly pulled off the Speedo, giving the audience a teasing look at his goods. Hermione’s mouth dropped in shock and anger, but she somehow recovered to catch the garment as the blasted git deliberately threw it at her.
He winked at the shocked brunette playfully and suggestively once the song ended before disappearing behind the silvery curtain. His parting words rang in her ear: “Stop beating around the bush Hermione; give in to your desires. I’ll prove your attraction for me before the month is over.”
Squeezing the Speedo in her hand, Hermione quickly jumped up and ran outside to find the apparition point, ignoring her friends’ curious and encouraging looks.
She had a wizard to give her own show to.
6
Title: The Flash
Author: dollfaced
Rating: T
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 100 exactly!
“What is that?” Ginny asked, stopping dead in her tracks.
Hermione peered down the street and spied a flash of nearly glowing white weaving through the crowds. People seemed to be backing away in horror as the object approached.
She squinted to get a better look. It couldn’t be.
Ginny whispered, “Is that who I think it is?”
Hermione gulped and nodded slowly.
“He’s going to get arrested for such illicit behavior,” Ginny warned.
A whoosh of gasps sounded as the man ran past them.
With an approving grin, Ginny noted, “Not bad, considering it’s January.”
“What about January?”
“Shrinkage.”
7
Title: A Good Fit
Author: pagan_toon76
Rating: R
Warning(s): Imlplied sexual situations
Word Count: 498
"Be reasonable,” Hermione said exasperatedly to her companion. “Take off your clothes.”
“I don’t want to” was the petulant response.
Hermione sighed. “This won’t work if you’ve got your pants on.”
The boxers were thrust down and kicked off, accompanied by a sulky “Fine, but I don’t have to like it.”
“Right now, I’m not exactly keen on this endeavour either.” Hermione grimaced and walked towards her husband of just over two hours. She glanced down; true enough, he hadn’t even managed to summon up the requisite enthusiasm to bed her.
Her husband arched a blond brow. “I recall you proposed to me, Granger. In fact, need I mention that little bit of blackmail you employed to get me to agree?”
She flushed at that reminder of her little illicit act in ensuring his cooperation.
He smirked. “I even heard tell that you scared off all the other witches who aspired to be Mrs. Draco Malfoy. Something about hexing them to remain virgo intacta infinitum?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not apologising for taking whatever actions I deemed necessary to get what I wanted.”
“Well, what are you waiting for then?” he asked, a sly grin crossing his pale, pointy features. “I’m already undressed.” He threw himself down on the bed and spread his arms and legs wide. She got an eyeful: a pale, leanly muscled chest; long strong legs and arms; and everything else in between. “Have at it.”
“Do you need to make everything sound so sordid?” She ignored Malfoy’s chuckle.
“Granger, you wanted me, you’ve got me.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Can’t get enough of my body, eh?”
She pretended to inspect him as she shrugged off her robes and climbed onto the bed. He was staring intently at her chest. She smirked and continued as if unaware of his sudden interest in parts of her anatomy. “It’s passable, but that’s not what’s important to me.”
“Passable?” Malfoy scowled.
“I told you why I chose you. I know we’ll complement each other.” She looked at him smugly. “Don’t tell me you didn’t like the fact that I was cunning enough to manoeuvre you into this.”
“Well, I never thought you the scheming type. It doesn’t go with your usual bookworm cum librarian look, but it is rather impressive,” he admitted.
“I knew you were smart enough to see it my way.” She shifted and pressed against him, her hand slowly rubbing across his stomach. She heard his breath hitch and inwardly smiled. He wasn’t that uninterested now.
“Did you make a list of my attributes?” he asked.
She nodded.
“How very intriguing, Granger.” He sounded amused, albeit rather breathless.
She moved her hand lower. “I know we’ll be a good fit, Malfoy.” She looked down his torso: he was blatantly enthusiastic now. “Would you like to see the list?”
He reared up and settled himself over her. “Later. Right now, I’d like to see if I can fit this into you.”
She smiled in response.
8
Title: Illegal Progeny
Author: bookishwench
Rating: PG
Warning(s): threatening imagery
Word Count:499
“Hermione Jean Granger, you are accused of crimes against wizarding purity,” Umbridge says, giving me a wide, hungry smile. “I don’t think we need to put forward evidence when the defendant is so infamous, but a few of our number may find it diverting.”
Lucius Malfoy nods aristocratically, his eyes crackling with barely suppressed lust. He’s always loved to watch things in pain. I hold my head up a little higher.
“High Inquisitor Umbridge, the Wizengamot has deduced that this girl was involved in illicit copulation with a pure-blood wizard, and that she is carrying the spawn of the union,” Dolohov recites from a scroll, sneering at me. “After repeated questioning, she remains intractable and will not reveal the name of her accomplice.”
“You have been very, very naughty Miss Granger,” Umbridge says sweetly, “and naughty people must be punished.”
I know what’s coming. The simplest way to get rid of the whole problem is to kill me along with the baby. I’ve known death would come for me eventually, but I’d rather it didn’t take my baby.
“Alecto,” Umbridge warbles like a demented sparrow, “fetch the Dementor.”
At that, my head whips around, and I know my mouth is open in shock.
“Miss Granger, you’re to be a scientific study,” she says. “The effects of the Kiss on a wizard in the embryonic state have never been recorded before.”
I’m screaming, willing myself to do wandless magic in spite of the shackles lacing me to the spot, and then I feel the cold approaching and my voice dies in my throat.
It’s coming.
It’s coming for me.
It’s coming for the little one.
Umbridge’s cat, Lucius’s hawk, and Dolohov’s bear are prowling the edges of the room, the ghostly glow of the Patronuses a wall not protecting but imprisoning me with the cloaked figure detaching itself from the shadows, hissing obscenely.
I close my eyes and think of the memory of every sunrise, every Christmas, the warmth of his arms. But I feel that thing plucking each one away, leaving me naked and cold. Green light bursts against my closed eyelids, and I almost hope it’s Avada Kedavra. But it’s not.
I see the otter glowing in the darkness, and the Dementor retreats into nothing. It gambols towards me, and the chains drop to the ground. As I almost fall, arms go around me, and I recognize the scent of him. I don’t know how he’s done this, and he’ll undoubtedly be insufferable about it, but I’m not about to complain.
“Now if you’ll excuse us,” Draco says to a literally Stunned Umbridge, “and even if you won’t, you pathetic hag, my bride and I are leaving. Father, don’t expect an invitation to the birth.”
And we’re Apparating in a whirl of color and light, and there’s grass under my feet and blue sky above and fresh air and a thousand beautiful things the Dementor had made me forget ever existed.
“Took you long enough,” I finally say.
9
Title: Care of Non-Magical Creatures
Author: eevilalice
Rating: PG
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 490
Back at Hogwarts, post-war, and I’ve become Harry sixth year, creeping around after Malfoy in the dead of night.
At least it’s sheer curiosity, not suspicion, driving me to crack the Transfig classroom door and peer into the moonlit space.
Turned away, his hair glows like a hard-won halo. Everything’s been too neat about Malfoy this year: appearance, schoolwork, behavior. But I suppose we’re all trying hard to get back on track, or right the track we used to be on.
Movement at his elbow. Again.
Is he…? A flush heats my face, spreads like electricity down to my chest. But why would he come all the way down here to do…that?
Then, a clucking.
Alright. This is too bizarre.
Pushing the door wide with an alarming creak, I advance on Malfoy, his pale face panicked as he turns, cradling some long, fleshy, wriggling thing.
“Shh,” he soothes. It takes me a second to realize he’s not addressing me, but the thing now squealing in his arms.
“What is that?”
“What are you doing here, Granger? Get out!” he whisper-shouts. The thing pokes its head out from the crook of Malfoy’s arm. Whiskers twitch. A small nose quivers.
“Is that a…ferret?” I can’t help the grin.
Malfoy sighs in defeat. “Go ahead. Run off and tell McGonagall.”
“Tell her what?”
He looks down at the creature, strokes its bare head with a finger. It clucks in pleasure. “I started caring for him last year, but then he got sick. Incurably. Lost all his fur. I was supposed to-” he breaks off, looking away towards the windows.
“Euthanize him?” I finish, taking a step closer. Malfoy nods. I reach out a tentative hand, touch the ferret’s skin, which is warm despite its furlessness. He clucks, and Malfoy’s eyes shift to me, wide with surprise.
“How much time does he have?”
Malfoy’s gaze falls; his voice is small as he answers, “A week or so?” Our fingers touch as we pet the sick animal.
“Can I help?”
“There’s not much to be done. I just give him something for the pain.”
But he assents, and over the next several nights I learn the ferret’s name is “Phoebus,” help administer the pain draught, clean his cage with its magically constructed false bottom, which hides him from sight.
Night eight is hard; Phoebus is listless, the draught not enough. I take Malfoy’s hand. I don’t know what else to do.
Night nine he takes mine.
Night ten we find Phoebus still and silent, and Malfoy cries. My chest and throat constrict. I toy with my fingers, raise and lower my arms a couple times before wrapping them around him. He holds on so tight it hurts, and then he’s kissing me, salty and wet.
That morning before lessons, we bury him near Hagrid’s.
“He was…a good ferret,” Malfoy says lamely, sincerely.
“You’ll be even better someday.” His cheek is warm beneath my hand.
ooo
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