Fic: "The Homerun Blues" (1/11)
*Author*: Padfoot the Marauder
*Rating*: NC-17
*Summary*: When Draco slips Hermione a potion for a laugh, a potion with a crucial footnote he neglected to read while making it, he must suffer the consequences of his actions...
*Disclaimer*: I’m sad to say if I were to have a drivers licence, it would not say ‘JK Rowling’. Meaning, I do not own anyone and anything in this story except for the plot.
*Thank you*: to Stephanie and kass for being kind enough to Beta-read this. If there are still any mistakes left, they’re probably of my doing. And a thank you to Lune for coming up with the title.
*Note*: This fic was a response to the Quiet Ones Secret Santa Fic Exchange for Elementaldeity.
**********
CHAPTER 1
The faces from the Heads of Houses stood on ‘grim’ while Draco himself just leaned back in his chair letting the scene wash over him. The accusations had momentarily ceased going back and forth in the Headmaster’s office, but the tension in the air was so thick, one could cut it with a knife. Why did they all have to make such a big deal out of this? It had only meant to be a joke. Professor Dumbledore sighed gravely, and turned his attention back towards Draco.
“Mister Malfoy,” Professor Dumbledore began. “Could you please enlighten us as to what potion you used exactly?”
Draco sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest in an act of unease. He could feel the piercing gazes of the professors on him and the fact that he was seated while the others were standing made Draco feel as if he was on trial.
“The Homerun Tonic,” Draco answered. The moment he had said it he could see the professors’ gazes lit up with a spark of hope, except for that of McGonagall’s.
“Mister Malfoy, I think it is safe to say that this is the most appalling thing you have ever done!” McGonagall yelled furiously.
“I’m inclined to agree with you Minerva,” Professor Snape revealed while giving Draco a sharp look, “but I do think that at the moment there are more pressing matters to attend to than accusing Mister Malfoy.”
“You’re right, Severus,” Professor Dumbledore said, turning his attention towards the Potions Master. “Are you aware of any antidotes to this specific blend?”
“No,” Snape replied. “Although given the specific nature of the brew, I do believe there is time enough for me to come up with an antidote before... permanent damage is done.”
Dumbledore nodded. He seemed to have expected this answer.
“So, shall I presume that you suggest letting the effects of the potion take its natural course while you work on a brew to nip it in the bud before the potion has been able to fully take effect?” Dumbledore enquired.
“I actually believe that that’s the only solution at this point,” Snape replied brusquely.
Dumbledore nodded in agreement, something that clearly took Professor McGonagall by surprise.
“Albus! You can’t possibly suggest...” Professor McGonagall stammered in shock. “There must be other alternatives!”
“I wish there were Minerva,” the Headmaster said, before redirecting his attention back to Draco. “Mister Malfoy, whose blood did you use in the potion you administered to Miss. Granger?”
“My own, of course,” Draco answered, although he didn’t see the importance of the question. What did it matter whose blood was in the damn potion? He grunted inwardly at the way this whole thing had been blown out of proportion. Last week, some of the other Slytherins and he had been discussing the female population of the school; which girl was shagging whom, which ones hadn’t been shagged, which ones no one wanted to shag, and which ones were still up to be shagged. When the Head Girl had popped up in the conversation, it had been a unanimous assessment that she had such a stick up her bum even a lust-potion wouldn’t get her going. It hadn’t taken long for Draco to suggest putting theory into practise and slip a lust-potion into Granger’s pumpkin juice. It had been a joke, that’s all!
Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall seemed about ready to lose her wits.
“She’s a student of my house!” McGonagall yelled, but didn’t seem sure whom she was raging at. “I refuse to have her virtue sacrificed to a bloody Slytherin in a situation bordering on rape!”
“We’re hoping it won’t come to that, Minerva,” Dumbledore said soothingly. “But we must hold into account that meanwhile, Miss. Granger must be in extreme anguish. An anguish that is very easily relieved.”
“But-” McGonagall started.
“Stop fretting, Minerva,” professor Snape said dismissively. “I’m certain I can make an antidote before your Head Girl’s precious virtue is sacrificed. However, I think at this point it’s best to send Mister Malfoy to the hospital wing and relieve her of her current distress.”
Draco frowned. What exactly were they suggesting here?
“Excuse me?” Draco drawled. “What exactly are you expecting me to do?”
“It’s your blood that was mixed in the potion you administered to Miss Granger, so if you had bothered to read all the footnotes,” Snape snapped back, “you would have known that you’re the only person who can relieve her of her current torment.”
“What?” Draco shrieked in shock. They honestly didn’t expect him to...
For fuck’s sake it’s *Granger*!
Snape rolled his eyes at Draco’s stupidity.
“The Homerun tonic is a potion with a reference to some Muggle sport called baseball,” Snape explained, probably gathering that Draco didn’t know all this either. “It basically means that the person who drinks the potion will be consumed with lust until the person whose blood has been mixed in the brew hits ‘base’ one, two and three and then ‘heads home’. Luckily, there’s a period of time after a base has been hit where the potion’s effect lies dormant. That should buy us time to find an antidote in order to stop the game... before you go and ‘hit the home plate’.”
Draco blinked in question and in shock. Baseball? Bases? Home plate? What?
“What?” he spat in question and in anger.
“It means that right now you have to get yourself to the hospital wing and kiss Miss. Granger,” Professor McGonagall spat.
“Kiss her?” Draco asked in relief. “That’s it?”
“For now,” Snape answered. “That’s only the first base and I can’t say how long it will take for me to find an antidote, but I believe it’s safe to say you probably will be faced with base two and three before there is any intervention.”
“What are the other bases?” Draco asked with a sour face.
“Well, first base is kissing,” Snape said dryly. “Second base is touching breasts, third base is messing around down below, and touching home plate is... well I believe you can guess what *that* is.”
Draco swallowed nervously. Icky mental images of him doing... *things* to Granger had suddenly invaded his head. This is just... no!
“Go ahead Mister Malfoy,” Professor Dumbledore said. “I’ll inform Madame Pomfrey of your arrival.”
Draco nodded since he didn’t seem to be in the position to protest. He got up from his chair, ignored McGonagall’s glare of absolute disgust, and went to go and relieve the Head Girl of her current ‘anguish’. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t have to do anything beyond first base and get away relatively unscarred.
‘Relatively’, since planting a wet one on Granger was enough to send any guy running for the hills.
*
“Mister Malfoy, finally!” Madame Pomfrey said breathlessly as Draco closed the door to the hospital wing behind him. He saw her bustling towards the sink to remoisten a towel and hurry back towards a bed hidden behind a set of curtains.
“Well, don’t just stand there!” Madame Pomfrey’s voice echoed from behind the curtains. “Get over here!”
“NO! Get him out of here!” a voice growled from behind the screens, which clearly belonged to Granger, although Draco had never heard her using it so forcefully and uninhibited. Draco ignored her plea, approached the blinds and halted in front of them.
“He’s the only one who can end your suffering, Miss. Granger.” He heard Madame Pomfrey saying soothingly.
“I don’t care!” Granger growled hoarsely, clearly out of breath.
Next, Madame Pomfrey re-emerged from behind the screens and gave Draco a hand gesture that directed him to wait a moment. While they waited, Draco could hear Granger grasping for breath, although he couldn’t exactly hear her doing anything.
What in the bleeding hell is she doing in there?
“Fuck!” Granger cursed in agony.
Draco blinked in amazement and redirected his attention towards the screen. Did Granger just swear?
“Miss. Granger, I’m sending Mister Malfoy in,” Madame Pomfrey said.
No reply came from the other end; something Madame Pomfrey seemed to take as grudging consent.
“I trust you’re not easily intimidated,” Madame Pomfrey said as she opened the blinds to Granger’s hospital bed.
Draco was about to deny that accusation, but he suddenly found himself quite unable to speak as he caught sight of Granger’s state. She was sitting on the hospital bed, her legs spread and her hand in-between them, vigorously rubbing at a place that was safely sheltered from Draco’s view. Her hair was messier than usual and hung in her face, which was gleaming with transpiration.
Draco cringed inwardly.
This was one of those things which are just so wrong, it’s difficult for the mind to process. Seeing the frigid Head Girl masturbating was right up the same alley as seeing Snape wearing a pink tutu... it’s just wrong!
“Mister Malfoy, stop lingering about and kiss her,” Madame Pomfrey pressed from behind the curtain.
Draco nodded and took a deep breath.
“Granger?” Draco said as he sat himself next to her on the bed, making his presence known. In reply, the girl ignored him, causing Draco to groan in frustration.
This was going to be as painful as ingesting Skele-Grow.
He took another deep breath, reached out to cup Granger’s chin and lifted her head up. Before she could protest or he could have second thoughts, Draco’s lips had descended upon Granger’s. She momentarily stiffened in a manner that made Draco think she was about to shove him off her, but she quickly relaxed.
...Well, not exactly ‘relaxed’.
Instead of waiting for him to deepen the kiss, she plunged her tongue inside his mouth, not even bothering to ask for entrance. She curled her tongue alongside Draco’s and heatedly explored the inside of his mouth. Draco was somewhat taken aback by her forcefulness. He couldn’t help but be reminded of something he heard about the animal kingdom; the back of ones throat has a key significance in showing dominance.
He really did not like being on this end.
She was pressing her lips against him so forcefully he was sure she’d be leaving a bruise. Her hand had painfully tangled itself in his hair and was gripping it so tightly Draco hoped she wouldn’t pull out his hair and leave him with bald spots.
Suddenly he felt Granger stiffening against him. She broke the kiss, fell flat unto the bed and climaxed violently. Draco couldn’t help but watch her in a haze of disbelief. It was like watching Neville Longbottom’s cauldron before it exploded; you don’t want to look, but you can’t help watching anyway. Watching her, he could see the sexual relief wash over her. It was odd really, seeing someone whom he had always seen as a completely asexual creature in such an erotic position. Her skin was gleaming, her hair even more wild as usual and her clothes wrinkled. Her shuddering body relaxed against the soft mattress of the bed as she was coming down from her orgasm.
Draco was rather forcefully snapped out of his reverie when suddenly a hard object collided with his nose. He got thrown off the bed and unceremoniously collapsed against the floor.
“You bastard!” Granger growled angrily.
From his spot on the floor, Draco could only hear the squeaking of the bedsprings as she got up, until she rounded the bed and confronted him. He covered his throbbing nose, which Granger had just hit with a rather painful left hook of her fist. He looked up at her; Granger’s eyes, which were still dark with lust, regarded at him with intense dislike, severe humiliation and also... tears?
“Your nose isn’t broken, Mister Malfoy,” revealed Madame Pomfrey, who had rejoined the two of them behind the blinds, kneeling beside him to check the damage. “I suggest you leave now.”
Draco, having absolutely no problem with the suggestion, scrambled up off the floor and hurried himself out of the hospital wing; determined to put as much space between him and Granger’s angry glare as he could.
**********
End of Chapter 1
*Rating*: NC-17
*Summary*: When Draco slips Hermione a potion for a laugh, a potion with a crucial footnote he neglected to read while making it, he must suffer the consequences of his actions...
*Disclaimer*: I’m sad to say if I were to have a drivers licence, it would not say ‘JK Rowling’. Meaning, I do not own anyone and anything in this story except for the plot.
*Thank you*: to Stephanie and kass for being kind enough to Beta-read this. If there are still any mistakes left, they’re probably of my doing. And a thank you to Lune for coming up with the title.
*Note*: This fic was a response to the Quiet Ones Secret Santa Fic Exchange for Elementaldeity.
**********
CHAPTER 1
The faces from the Heads of Houses stood on ‘grim’ while Draco himself just leaned back in his chair letting the scene wash over him. The accusations had momentarily ceased going back and forth in the Headmaster’s office, but the tension in the air was so thick, one could cut it with a knife. Why did they all have to make such a big deal out of this? It had only meant to be a joke. Professor Dumbledore sighed gravely, and turned his attention back towards Draco.
“Mister Malfoy,” Professor Dumbledore began. “Could you please enlighten us as to what potion you used exactly?”
Draco sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest in an act of unease. He could feel the piercing gazes of the professors on him and the fact that he was seated while the others were standing made Draco feel as if he was on trial.
“The Homerun Tonic,” Draco answered. The moment he had said it he could see the professors’ gazes lit up with a spark of hope, except for that of McGonagall’s.
“Mister Malfoy, I think it is safe to say that this is the most appalling thing you have ever done!” McGonagall yelled furiously.
“I’m inclined to agree with you Minerva,” Professor Snape revealed while giving Draco a sharp look, “but I do think that at the moment there are more pressing matters to attend to than accusing Mister Malfoy.”
“You’re right, Severus,” Professor Dumbledore said, turning his attention towards the Potions Master. “Are you aware of any antidotes to this specific blend?”
“No,” Snape replied. “Although given the specific nature of the brew, I do believe there is time enough for me to come up with an antidote before... permanent damage is done.”
Dumbledore nodded. He seemed to have expected this answer.
“So, shall I presume that you suggest letting the effects of the potion take its natural course while you work on a brew to nip it in the bud before the potion has been able to fully take effect?” Dumbledore enquired.
“I actually believe that that’s the only solution at this point,” Snape replied brusquely.
Dumbledore nodded in agreement, something that clearly took Professor McGonagall by surprise.
“Albus! You can’t possibly suggest...” Professor McGonagall stammered in shock. “There must be other alternatives!”
“I wish there were Minerva,” the Headmaster said, before redirecting his attention back to Draco. “Mister Malfoy, whose blood did you use in the potion you administered to Miss. Granger?”
“My own, of course,” Draco answered, although he didn’t see the importance of the question. What did it matter whose blood was in the damn potion? He grunted inwardly at the way this whole thing had been blown out of proportion. Last week, some of the other Slytherins and he had been discussing the female population of the school; which girl was shagging whom, which ones hadn’t been shagged, which ones no one wanted to shag, and which ones were still up to be shagged. When the Head Girl had popped up in the conversation, it had been a unanimous assessment that she had such a stick up her bum even a lust-potion wouldn’t get her going. It hadn’t taken long for Draco to suggest putting theory into practise and slip a lust-potion into Granger’s pumpkin juice. It had been a joke, that’s all!
Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall seemed about ready to lose her wits.
“She’s a student of my house!” McGonagall yelled, but didn’t seem sure whom she was raging at. “I refuse to have her virtue sacrificed to a bloody Slytherin in a situation bordering on rape!”
“We’re hoping it won’t come to that, Minerva,” Dumbledore said soothingly. “But we must hold into account that meanwhile, Miss. Granger must be in extreme anguish. An anguish that is very easily relieved.”
“But-” McGonagall started.
“Stop fretting, Minerva,” professor Snape said dismissively. “I’m certain I can make an antidote before your Head Girl’s precious virtue is sacrificed. However, I think at this point it’s best to send Mister Malfoy to the hospital wing and relieve her of her current distress.”
Draco frowned. What exactly were they suggesting here?
“Excuse me?” Draco drawled. “What exactly are you expecting me to do?”
“It’s your blood that was mixed in the potion you administered to Miss Granger, so if you had bothered to read all the footnotes,” Snape snapped back, “you would have known that you’re the only person who can relieve her of her current torment.”
“What?” Draco shrieked in shock. They honestly didn’t expect him to...
For fuck’s sake it’s *Granger*!
Snape rolled his eyes at Draco’s stupidity.
“The Homerun tonic is a potion with a reference to some Muggle sport called baseball,” Snape explained, probably gathering that Draco didn’t know all this either. “It basically means that the person who drinks the potion will be consumed with lust until the person whose blood has been mixed in the brew hits ‘base’ one, two and three and then ‘heads home’. Luckily, there’s a period of time after a base has been hit where the potion’s effect lies dormant. That should buy us time to find an antidote in order to stop the game... before you go and ‘hit the home plate’.”
Draco blinked in question and in shock. Baseball? Bases? Home plate? What?
“What?” he spat in question and in anger.
“It means that right now you have to get yourself to the hospital wing and kiss Miss. Granger,” Professor McGonagall spat.
“Kiss her?” Draco asked in relief. “That’s it?”
“For now,” Snape answered. “That’s only the first base and I can’t say how long it will take for me to find an antidote, but I believe it’s safe to say you probably will be faced with base two and three before there is any intervention.”
“What are the other bases?” Draco asked with a sour face.
“Well, first base is kissing,” Snape said dryly. “Second base is touching breasts, third base is messing around down below, and touching home plate is... well I believe you can guess what *that* is.”
Draco swallowed nervously. Icky mental images of him doing... *things* to Granger had suddenly invaded his head. This is just... no!
“Go ahead Mister Malfoy,” Professor Dumbledore said. “I’ll inform Madame Pomfrey of your arrival.”
Draco nodded since he didn’t seem to be in the position to protest. He got up from his chair, ignored McGonagall’s glare of absolute disgust, and went to go and relieve the Head Girl of her current ‘anguish’. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t have to do anything beyond first base and get away relatively unscarred.
‘Relatively’, since planting a wet one on Granger was enough to send any guy running for the hills.
*
“Mister Malfoy, finally!” Madame Pomfrey said breathlessly as Draco closed the door to the hospital wing behind him. He saw her bustling towards the sink to remoisten a towel and hurry back towards a bed hidden behind a set of curtains.
“Well, don’t just stand there!” Madame Pomfrey’s voice echoed from behind the curtains. “Get over here!”
“NO! Get him out of here!” a voice growled from behind the screens, which clearly belonged to Granger, although Draco had never heard her using it so forcefully and uninhibited. Draco ignored her plea, approached the blinds and halted in front of them.
“He’s the only one who can end your suffering, Miss. Granger.” He heard Madame Pomfrey saying soothingly.
“I don’t care!” Granger growled hoarsely, clearly out of breath.
Next, Madame Pomfrey re-emerged from behind the screens and gave Draco a hand gesture that directed him to wait a moment. While they waited, Draco could hear Granger grasping for breath, although he couldn’t exactly hear her doing anything.
What in the bleeding hell is she doing in there?
“Fuck!” Granger cursed in agony.
Draco blinked in amazement and redirected his attention towards the screen. Did Granger just swear?
“Miss. Granger, I’m sending Mister Malfoy in,” Madame Pomfrey said.
No reply came from the other end; something Madame Pomfrey seemed to take as grudging consent.
“I trust you’re not easily intimidated,” Madame Pomfrey said as she opened the blinds to Granger’s hospital bed.
Draco was about to deny that accusation, but he suddenly found himself quite unable to speak as he caught sight of Granger’s state. She was sitting on the hospital bed, her legs spread and her hand in-between them, vigorously rubbing at a place that was safely sheltered from Draco’s view. Her hair was messier than usual and hung in her face, which was gleaming with transpiration.
Draco cringed inwardly.
This was one of those things which are just so wrong, it’s difficult for the mind to process. Seeing the frigid Head Girl masturbating was right up the same alley as seeing Snape wearing a pink tutu... it’s just wrong!
“Mister Malfoy, stop lingering about and kiss her,” Madame Pomfrey pressed from behind the curtain.
Draco nodded and took a deep breath.
“Granger?” Draco said as he sat himself next to her on the bed, making his presence known. In reply, the girl ignored him, causing Draco to groan in frustration.
This was going to be as painful as ingesting Skele-Grow.
He took another deep breath, reached out to cup Granger’s chin and lifted her head up. Before she could protest or he could have second thoughts, Draco’s lips had descended upon Granger’s. She momentarily stiffened in a manner that made Draco think she was about to shove him off her, but she quickly relaxed.
...Well, not exactly ‘relaxed’.
Instead of waiting for him to deepen the kiss, she plunged her tongue inside his mouth, not even bothering to ask for entrance. She curled her tongue alongside Draco’s and heatedly explored the inside of his mouth. Draco was somewhat taken aback by her forcefulness. He couldn’t help but be reminded of something he heard about the animal kingdom; the back of ones throat has a key significance in showing dominance.
He really did not like being on this end.
She was pressing her lips against him so forcefully he was sure she’d be leaving a bruise. Her hand had painfully tangled itself in his hair and was gripping it so tightly Draco hoped she wouldn’t pull out his hair and leave him with bald spots.
Suddenly he felt Granger stiffening against him. She broke the kiss, fell flat unto the bed and climaxed violently. Draco couldn’t help but watch her in a haze of disbelief. It was like watching Neville Longbottom’s cauldron before it exploded; you don’t want to look, but you can’t help watching anyway. Watching her, he could see the sexual relief wash over her. It was odd really, seeing someone whom he had always seen as a completely asexual creature in such an erotic position. Her skin was gleaming, her hair even more wild as usual and her clothes wrinkled. Her shuddering body relaxed against the soft mattress of the bed as she was coming down from her orgasm.
Draco was rather forcefully snapped out of his reverie when suddenly a hard object collided with his nose. He got thrown off the bed and unceremoniously collapsed against the floor.
“You bastard!” Granger growled angrily.
From his spot on the floor, Draco could only hear the squeaking of the bedsprings as she got up, until she rounded the bed and confronted him. He covered his throbbing nose, which Granger had just hit with a rather painful left hook of her fist. He looked up at her; Granger’s eyes, which were still dark with lust, regarded at him with intense dislike, severe humiliation and also... tears?
“Your nose isn’t broken, Mister Malfoy,” revealed Madame Pomfrey, who had rejoined the two of them behind the blinds, kneeling beside him to check the damage. “I suggest you leave now.”
Draco, having absolutely no problem with the suggestion, scrambled up off the floor and hurried himself out of the hospital wing; determined to put as much space between him and Granger’s angry glare as he could.
**********
End of Chapter 1