(no subject)
Author: Irisri
Title: What was thought of as the Century Curse 7
Rating: PG/PG-13
Summery: It seems a curse has been set upon the Malfoy family. Now, Malfoy must do everything within his power to break it. But he has to ask. Why him?
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Warning: Might contain slight HBP spoilers.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter… sadly. If someone gives me a small portion of it, I’ll be EXTREMELY happy.
"Alright, class." Professor McGonnagall flicked her wand, opening the drapes that covered the large, fifteen foot windows and walked briskly to her desk. "First, I want to remind all of you that Christmas break is coming up. Prefects, Head Girl and Boy, your sechule has changed, and we'll be having a meeting about that tonight in the Head common rooms. Do not be late." She looked around sternly at the Seven Year Slytherins and Gryffindors.
"Reasons such as snogging, shagging, making out, you were trying to finish homework, will not be acceptable. Prefect and Head meetings only last thirty minutes and you should be able to take the time out of your scheule to attend them. If you have detention tongiht, then please tell me who you have it with and I will discuss it with them. Any questions? Good. Now please take out..."
Hermione carefully cut her hair. She'd been meaning to do it for a while, but, with the War, she'd not had time. She watched tangled masses of hair fall to the floor. When she was finished, her hair was cut so it just barely brushed her shoulders. She waved her wand and did a hair-growing charm. She watched her hair sink down until it was to her waist and stopped the charm. It was the first time she'd caught it, actually cut it, since she'd come to Hogwarts. She was surprised by the change.
Her hair came in soft masses of curls, not unmanagable like she was so used to. She pushed her hands into her hair and it felt silky, like she'd heard the Fleur Delacour's hair felt like.
Her face looked different too. It was still the same face, no charms, or makeup, but it looked prettier to her. She walked into her bathroom and took a quick shower, and when she came out, blow-dried her hair. When she was finished, she kept t hinking, This is getting better and better.
When she came out of her bedroom, the whole room froze when they looked at her. Draco noticed it, because he had as well. Her hair, instead of the large tangled clumps that it usually was, looked a soft brown, with soft curls every once in a while flipping up in what he knew was a natural way.
"Well, Granger," he said. "Did you finally get sick of having a rat's nest for hair."
"If it's alright with you, Malfoy, yes, I did," she replied coolly before she sat down, some of her hair falling over her face and shoulders as she leaned forward to pick up the piece of parchment that everyone had been given.
"Alright," she said in an authortive voice. "Ron, Pansy, you both have to petrol the corriders leading to the dungeons from seven until eight." She looked pointedly at Ron. "If you're not finished with dinner by then, Ronald, then you better start thinking about bringing a snack along."
She turned to Luna and Blaise. "You two," she said. "Will be patrolling the staircases for any snogging partners."
As she read the other prefect's sehdules, she noticed a pattern. Slytherin wasn't placed with another Slytherin, Gryffindor's weren't placed with Gryffindor's, and so on. McGonagall had obviously not wanted friends to be together. Her eyes fell on the last name on the list.
"Malfoy," she said after a few seconds of stunned silence. "You'll be patrolling with me in the Slytherin Dungeons."
"What!" He jumped from his place by the wall, stalking over to her and grabbing the parchment. His eyes hurriedly scanned the paper and then widened. He looked up at her, his eyes blazing in outrage. "You planned this," he hissed at her.
"What!?"
"You just want---"
"You're so fucking paranoid, Malfoy!" she screamed cutting him off, jumping up so they were inches a part. "I would rather die than patrol with you, let alone be alone with you!"
"Yeah right," he snarled.
"You're such a pompous, little spoiled brat who's always going to be under Daddy's little wi---" Snap! The sound filled the air as Draco's hand connected with Hermione's face. She fell back onto the sofa and clutched her cheek.
"Now, we're even..." he paused. "Mudblood."
Ron, who'd been just been stunned, snapped to his feet and stabbed his wand against Draco's throat. "Say it one more time, touch her one more," he hissed. "I dare you. You'll be a dead little cockroach, ferret-boy."
"Ron," Hermione said, still holding her cheek. "Quit. I'm going to ask McGonagall to change my partner." She walked towards the portrait door, but then stopped and looked at Pansy.
"I hope you know that if you marry him, he could just very well do that to you." She didn't wait for Pansy's sarcastic reply. She walked out, still holding her cheek, and didn't look back.
He'd blacked out and he honestly didn't remember what had happened. All he knew that when he could think again, Weasley's wand was pointed to his throat, threatening him. Granger had been on the sofa, holding her cheek. Her now-softly curled hair, was disheveled and she looked like she'd just been through a catfight. And then she'd walked out. But not before telling Pansy not to marry him.
Pansy hadn't even come up with a reply. She was just staring at him like he'd grown a second head before she opened her mouth and said, "She may be a Mudblood, Draco, but that doesn't mean you can slap her." she stood up and grabbed the Weasel's arm and stalked out the door.
He stared in the mirror. He didn't really know what he'd done. But he'd obviously hit Granger with a dozen Seven Year students present. He looked down and saw the cream he used whenever he'd had a rough day of Quidditch. He grabbed it and went out of his bedroom, into the common room and knocked softly on Granger's door before entering.
Moonlight shown through the windows in rays and most of them stopped at Granger's king size bed. Her hair was spread out on her pillow, her face turned towards her windows, and her eyes were lightly closed. Her arms were lifted up over her head, in a half-rectangle. If he was honest with himself, and he wasn't going to be, he'd admit she looked beautiful.
He walked over to her bed, his feet padding against the wooden floor lightly, and her eyes opened and her wand was pointed at him threateningly. She didn't sit up, and she pointed it at him.
"I'm not here to rape or hurt you, Granger," he whispered.
"Yeah right," she said hotly. "That's what they all say.
Her cheek was turning a light purple.
"I came to put this on you." He held up the cream.
"I don't want you to put it on me."
He sighed and sat down on the bed. "Do you sleep naked?"
"Why?"
"Because if you do, you better get a shirt out of your wardrobe."
With a sigh, she flicked her wand towards her wardrobe and a tank came flying out. She then pointed her wand at him and he found himself facing away from the bed and heard the russle of sheets and then, "Alright."
He turned back around to see Hermione in a tank top.
"Now, give me the cream and I'll do it."
"No," he replied. "I'll do it. It only works for the buyer anyway."
She glared at him, and finally resigned into a slight pout. Her bottom lip stuck out further than her upper lip, at least, further than usual. "Alright," she finally said.
But she didn't move from her spot. He pushed her over and sat beside her. He twisted the cap and opened the small tub. He put two fingers in and scooped some out, and pressed it to her cheek and rubbed softly.
She moaned.
"Do you like that?"
"It feels good," she replied, moving to lean against him so his arms had to encircle her to be comfortable.
He dunked his fingers back into the tub and started rubbing it on her left arm. Gradually, the dark bruises started fading away.
"Granger," he whispered. He felt her back pressed against his knee, and the start of her panties.
"What?" she whispered.
"You better get away from me if you don't want me to..." And she didn't move, so he turned her head and kissed her.
Hermione felt a wave of soft heat spread through her body as soon as he kissed her. She felt his hand come up to cup her cheek, the one he'd hit. She didn't feel like stopping. So she kissed him back. It was the first kiss since the kiss in the dungeons, the one that was three months before.
The kiss now was sweet. Very sweet. and satisfying. But Hermione wanted more. Even though, in the back of her mind, she knew that she was just another trophy in his cabiant, another notch in his bedpost.
"Draco," she whispered. "Please." And that was all it took for him to stop kissing her long enough to pull of her shirt.
She tackled his robes, and his trousers, unzipping them and pulling them off.
He grabbed her wand and put her hand around it before he whispered a protection spell.
And then he looked up at her. "Do you want this?"
And even though she knew she'd regret at least some of it in the morning, she nodded her head.
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Title: What was thought of as the Century Curse 7
Rating: PG/PG-13
Summery: It seems a curse has been set upon the Malfoy family. Now, Malfoy must do everything within his power to break it. But he has to ask. Why him?
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Warning: Might contain slight HBP spoilers.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter… sadly. If someone gives me a small portion of it, I’ll be EXTREMELY happy.
"Alright, class." Professor McGonnagall flicked her wand, opening the drapes that covered the large, fifteen foot windows and walked briskly to her desk. "First, I want to remind all of you that Christmas break is coming up. Prefects, Head Girl and Boy, your sechule has changed, and we'll be having a meeting about that tonight in the Head common rooms. Do not be late." She looked around sternly at the Seven Year Slytherins and Gryffindors.
"Reasons such as snogging, shagging, making out, you were trying to finish homework, will not be acceptable. Prefect and Head meetings only last thirty minutes and you should be able to take the time out of your scheule to attend them. If you have detention tongiht, then please tell me who you have it with and I will discuss it with them. Any questions? Good. Now please take out..."
Hermione carefully cut her hair. She'd been meaning to do it for a while, but, with the War, she'd not had time. She watched tangled masses of hair fall to the floor. When she was finished, her hair was cut so it just barely brushed her shoulders. She waved her wand and did a hair-growing charm. She watched her hair sink down until it was to her waist and stopped the charm. It was the first time she'd caught it, actually cut it, since she'd come to Hogwarts. She was surprised by the change.
Her hair came in soft masses of curls, not unmanagable like she was so used to. She pushed her hands into her hair and it felt silky, like she'd heard the Fleur Delacour's hair felt like.
Her face looked different too. It was still the same face, no charms, or makeup, but it looked prettier to her. She walked into her bathroom and took a quick shower, and when she came out, blow-dried her hair. When she was finished, she kept t hinking, This is getting better and better.
When she came out of her bedroom, the whole room froze when they looked at her. Draco noticed it, because he had as well. Her hair, instead of the large tangled clumps that it usually was, looked a soft brown, with soft curls every once in a while flipping up in what he knew was a natural way.
"Well, Granger," he said. "Did you finally get sick of having a rat's nest for hair."
"If it's alright with you, Malfoy, yes, I did," she replied coolly before she sat down, some of her hair falling over her face and shoulders as she leaned forward to pick up the piece of parchment that everyone had been given.
"Alright," she said in an authortive voice. "Ron, Pansy, you both have to petrol the corriders leading to the dungeons from seven until eight." She looked pointedly at Ron. "If you're not finished with dinner by then, Ronald, then you better start thinking about bringing a snack along."
She turned to Luna and Blaise. "You two," she said. "Will be patrolling the staircases for any snogging partners."
As she read the other prefect's sehdules, she noticed a pattern. Slytherin wasn't placed with another Slytherin, Gryffindor's weren't placed with Gryffindor's, and so on. McGonagall had obviously not wanted friends to be together. Her eyes fell on the last name on the list.
"Malfoy," she said after a few seconds of stunned silence. "You'll be patrolling with me in the Slytherin Dungeons."
"What!" He jumped from his place by the wall, stalking over to her and grabbing the parchment. His eyes hurriedly scanned the paper and then widened. He looked up at her, his eyes blazing in outrage. "You planned this," he hissed at her.
"What!?"
"You just want---"
"You're so fucking paranoid, Malfoy!" she screamed cutting him off, jumping up so they were inches a part. "I would rather die than patrol with you, let alone be alone with you!"
"Yeah right," he snarled.
"You're such a pompous, little spoiled brat who's always going to be under Daddy's little wi---" Snap! The sound filled the air as Draco's hand connected with Hermione's face. She fell back onto the sofa and clutched her cheek.
"Now, we're even..." he paused. "Mudblood."
Ron, who'd been just been stunned, snapped to his feet and stabbed his wand against Draco's throat. "Say it one more time, touch her one more," he hissed. "I dare you. You'll be a dead little cockroach, ferret-boy."
"Ron," Hermione said, still holding her cheek. "Quit. I'm going to ask McGonagall to change my partner." She walked towards the portrait door, but then stopped and looked at Pansy.
"I hope you know that if you marry him, he could just very well do that to you." She didn't wait for Pansy's sarcastic reply. She walked out, still holding her cheek, and didn't look back.
He'd blacked out and he honestly didn't remember what had happened. All he knew that when he could think again, Weasley's wand was pointed to his throat, threatening him. Granger had been on the sofa, holding her cheek. Her now-softly curled hair, was disheveled and she looked like she'd just been through a catfight. And then she'd walked out. But not before telling Pansy not to marry him.
Pansy hadn't even come up with a reply. She was just staring at him like he'd grown a second head before she opened her mouth and said, "She may be a Mudblood, Draco, but that doesn't mean you can slap her." she stood up and grabbed the Weasel's arm and stalked out the door.
He stared in the mirror. He didn't really know what he'd done. But he'd obviously hit Granger with a dozen Seven Year students present. He looked down and saw the cream he used whenever he'd had a rough day of Quidditch. He grabbed it and went out of his bedroom, into the common room and knocked softly on Granger's door before entering.
Moonlight shown through the windows in rays and most of them stopped at Granger's king size bed. Her hair was spread out on her pillow, her face turned towards her windows, and her eyes were lightly closed. Her arms were lifted up over her head, in a half-rectangle. If he was honest with himself, and he wasn't going to be, he'd admit she looked beautiful.
He walked over to her bed, his feet padding against the wooden floor lightly, and her eyes opened and her wand was pointed at him threateningly. She didn't sit up, and she pointed it at him.
"I'm not here to rape or hurt you, Granger," he whispered.
"Yeah right," she said hotly. "That's what they all say.
Her cheek was turning a light purple.
"I came to put this on you." He held up the cream.
"I don't want you to put it on me."
He sighed and sat down on the bed. "Do you sleep naked?"
"Why?"
"Because if you do, you better get a shirt out of your wardrobe."
With a sigh, she flicked her wand towards her wardrobe and a tank came flying out. She then pointed her wand at him and he found himself facing away from the bed and heard the russle of sheets and then, "Alright."
He turned back around to see Hermione in a tank top.
"Now, give me the cream and I'll do it."
"No," he replied. "I'll do it. It only works for the buyer anyway."
She glared at him, and finally resigned into a slight pout. Her bottom lip stuck out further than her upper lip, at least, further than usual. "Alright," she finally said.
But she didn't move from her spot. He pushed her over and sat beside her. He twisted the cap and opened the small tub. He put two fingers in and scooped some out, and pressed it to her cheek and rubbed softly.
She moaned.
"Do you like that?"
"It feels good," she replied, moving to lean against him so his arms had to encircle her to be comfortable.
He dunked his fingers back into the tub and started rubbing it on her left arm. Gradually, the dark bruises started fading away.
"Granger," he whispered. He felt her back pressed against his knee, and the start of her panties.
"What?" she whispered.
"You better get away from me if you don't want me to..." And she didn't move, so he turned her head and kissed her.
Hermione felt a wave of soft heat spread through her body as soon as he kissed her. She felt his hand come up to cup her cheek, the one he'd hit. She didn't feel like stopping. So she kissed him back. It was the first kiss since the kiss in the dungeons, the one that was three months before.
The kiss now was sweet. Very sweet. and satisfying. But Hermione wanted more. Even though, in the back of her mind, she knew that she was just another trophy in his cabiant, another notch in his bedpost.
"Draco," she whispered. "Please." And that was all it took for him to stop kissing her long enough to pull of her shirt.
She tackled his robes, and his trousers, unzipping them and pulling them off.
He grabbed her wand and put her hand around it before he whispered a protection spell.
And then he looked up at her. "Do you want this?"
And even though she knew she'd regret at least some of it in the morning, she nodded her head.
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