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He was hissing and spitting at her, little whiskers twitching on his white, pointed face. Hermione stood her ground, tiny webbed feet digging into the stone floor. His lithe body was darting back and forth, white teeth glistening as he chattered on and on. Hermione wanted to roll her eyes at the little beast, knowing he was blaming her for this mess they were in.
It’s not my fault, Malfoy! her mind hissed as she squeaked back—his silver eyes narrowing at her. How was I supposed to know the room would lock us in?
They were a part of the small group to return to Hogwarts after the war. And they were the only two to take on the task of becoming an animagus. Hermione glanced back to Malfoy, his white-furred body simmering with anger. She chortled, the sound more like a high-pitched screech than anything remotely resembling a laugh. Her animagus form took after her patronus—an otter. It was amusing that Malfoy’s form would be that of a ferret, though she supposed the creature did fit him. Curious, devious, albeit slightly cute. She shook her head and padded back to the door and sighed, trying to turn back into her human form. Honestly! What a bloody mess! She glanced back to Malfoy, the strain in his muscles evident as he, too, tried to shift back. I’m bloody Hermione Granger! I can do this! She tried again and again but to no avail, her muscles aching as she flopped down to the floor.
She watched Malfoy’s body shake before he glanced back to her—gray orbs narrowing again in what could be a sneer. She huffed out in frustration before turning her head—the loud crash of thunder echoing in the room as lightning flashed against the walls. We need to rest our energy, stupid git. She began to close her eyes before a shriek bubbled up her throat—pain blistering down her limb. She twisted around and chittered at him—anger swelling in her veins as she shook him off her. Malfoy was undeterred as he circled back around and lunged at her—teeth sinking into her flesh. Malfoy! He was relentless—thin body dancing around her as she swiped this way and that, his little teeth peppering her flesh as he bit down. I’m going to kill you!
She barked at him, eyes narrowed and teeth bared as she rolled him over. Her webbed paws pinned him down as he thrashed beneath her—squeaks pouring from his little mouth. Stop! She huffed and hissed as she slammed him back down to the stone—his chest heaving in and out as she watched the fight fade out of him. Hermione remained there for a moment, her body hovering over his as his breathing evened out—silver orbs looking anywhere but at her.
Quickly, she released him and trotted back to her corner—brown tail swishing angrily as she stomped off, white flashes of lightning dancing across the stones. The nerve of that git! She shook her head as her body slunk to the floor—the cold stone seeping into her bones. When we get out of this mess, I am going to ruin him! Her mind was churning rapidly—rage boiling beneath her skin. Her ears twitched at the sound of movement, but she otherwise remained unfazed, her breath puffing out rapidly. He has no— She didn’t get to finish her thought as his body covered hers.
Hermione sprang up, his clawed-toes digging into her skin as he latched onto her. Get off! She swung her body around trying to detach him, but Malfoy clung to her like a second skin—his long, lean body molding to hers. Malfoy! Her head twisted around so she could glare at him, his silver orbs flashing as they locked gazes. A venomous hiss fell from his lips before he bit the nape of her neck—teeth sinking into the scruff. It didn’t entirely hurt but it sent annoying pin-pricks down her spine as he used his momentum to push her to the ground.
Her body flattened to the stone as he wrapped his legs around her, his hips pushing her down. Blazing chitters fell from her tongue as he clamped his jaw tighter—white-hot pain slithering down her throat. If you don’t get off— Her mind went blank as he slammed his hips down against her once more, his silky fur rubbing against hers. She swallowed thickly as he did it again—the thrust making his teeth scrape against her skin. He thrust at a slow but steady rhythm, his heartbeat thumping against her back. Oh! You are not mounting me like some kind of—of—dog!
If Hermione was angry before, she was absolutely livid now. She inhaled sharply before bucking against him—a cool gasp falling from his lips as he lost his balance. She bucked again, and his hiss warmed her twitching ears as he thrust his hips against hers once more, his groin rubbing against her. They both froze for a beat—her heart fluttering about her ribcage as his labored breathing fanned her neck. Shaking her head, she thrashed about—Malfoy falling to the floor. Fiery amber clashed with frost-bitten silver. Her claws ticked against the stone as she barked at him again, blood pounding in her ears. Malfoy held her gaze for a moment before turning away, his head hung low as he scuttled off to the other corner.
Her body was shaking in rage—skin burning and veins sizzling. How dare he?! Her heart was in her mouth—the copper taste of it all running down her throat like bile. With a final hiss, she slunk back down to the ground—the cool tiles hissing beneath her anger.
She chanced a look back to the ferret on the other side of the room, his body curled in around itself and facing away from her. She heard him dook a few times, the sound more eerie than playful against the cacophony of pelting rain and thunder. She snorted, a wistful sigh on her tongue as she glanced back to the door. Her mind ran back to Malfoy. They were getting along this term—up until this mess. They weren’t friendly by any means—but they ignored one another. She kept to herself and he kept to himself. If they had to partner for an assignment—they’d only discuss the assignment, work together clinically, then be on their merry way. It was a truce they came up with when she first ran into him the first day back at Hogwarts. He had looked so defeated—shadows under his eyes and cheeks still hollow. She looked no better, she was sure—the war had drained everyone. There are no winners in war, her mind bitterly hissed. So, it came to a truce. They were just so tired of fighting, of hate—tired of it all. The tentative friendship between them was no more than a mutual decision to ignore one another. It worked out well, thus far, until this incident.
Hermione wanted to find someplace quiet to be alone and practice being an animagus. Tonight was perfect—there was even a lightning storm. The month of holding the leaf in her mouth and reciting the same chant twice a day was done. All she had to do was drink the moon-struck phial and recite the words one last time. So that was what she did, only, she didn’t expect Malfoy to want to do the same. She had already finished the preparations and chanted the mantra—when the door snapped open. She had begun to turn into her animal—admiring her auburn strands of fur as he strolled in, vial in hand and words muttering from his lips.
She squeaked and his gray eyes widened as he glanced in her direction—his frame shrinking rapidly. The flash of lightning glittered across his platinum-colored fur as they stared at one another. Sighing, Hermione attempted to shift back to her human form—but couldn’t. Tilting her head to the side—she tried again. And again. And again—until her muscles began to ache and her bones began to rattle. No! She knew it was dangerous to try to shift for the first time on your own, but she was Hermione Jean Granger!
Hermione huffed at the memory before glaring at the door that refused to open. Clearly the room thinks we need to be here together. With a sneer that Malfoy could even be proud of, she closed her eyes and let the crashing sounds of thunder lull her to a deep sleep.
___________________________________________________________________________________________
Sleep still pulled at her limbs as she began to wake—her eyelids blinking her vision clear. She stifled a yawn as she stretched softly—a moan falling from her lips as her muscles flexed in all the right places. Distantly, she felt something shift behind her—but her mind was still groggy. Her arm smoothed over the silk sheets as her back began to scoot towards the warmth that was radiating behind her. She narrowed her eyes at what she could see of the bed as she continued to search blindly for the warmth—memories of cold stones clawing to the forefront of her brain. I fell asleep on the floor, her mind began—the warmth fanning over the nape of her neck. I was in my animagus form! A short giggle bubbled up from her lips as she remembered becoming an otter—before her breath hitched in her throat.
Her back hit something solid and she froze as she felt it shift behind her, thick arms wrapping around her waist. Oh, God, her mind wailed as she remembered that she was stuck in her animagus form all night as the room of requirement locked her in—and she remembered just who she was locked in with.
Slowly, she tried to wiggle free—but his arms only tightened around her, his hot breath pelting her neck as he nuzzled closer. So, he cuddles in his sleep. Rolling her eyes, Hermione tried to twist in his grasp—getting so far to be able to see his mused, blond hair before she was pulled back against him. The force knocked her breath out of her chest as she blinked slowly, his breathing even and lips pressed against her neck. Swallowing thickly, her eyes glanced to the door. “Malfoy?” Her voice was soft and came out as a squeak as his hands smoothed up and down her arms.
“Try to relax, Granger,” he whispered against her skin, fingertips leaving gooseflesh in their wake. “You’re so tense.” His voice was deep and low—it rumbled down to her toes and she couldn’t suppress the shiver that rippled through her.
Her eyes narrowed as he smirked against her skin, reveling in how her body reacted to him. “Oh, tense, am I?” She was pleased that her voice regained some of its spark—her fire and ire tingling just beneath her skin. She felt his body freeze, fingertips rubbing small circles across her forearms. She yanked them away and huffed when he decided his hands would be better placed on her hip and lower back, fingers smoothing along the expanse of skin there. “You have some nerve!”
She felt his throat bob as he swallowed, his hot breath fanning across her ear. “Look, Granger—”
“No, you look!” she hissed, her words like venom as she tried to break free of his hold. “How dare you mount me like some dog—some animal!” The irony of it wasn’t lost on her at all, but she was just so angry. His right hand gripped her hip, fingers smoothing over her stomach as his left rubbed up along her back. “You rutted against me trying to—”
“Dominate?”
“Yes!” she sputtered as he pressed against her—the smooth warmth of his stomach whispering along her back. “And where are our clothes!”
He chuckled softly, the vibrations of it twisting in her lower belly. “In order for an animagus to shift with his or her clothes, you have to consciously do it. Did you not notice the pile of clothes we both left when we shifted the first time?”
Her cheeks puffed out, red painting her neck. “I hadn’t noticed, no. I was a bit preoccupied with being locked in with a ferret that wanted to attack me.” Her brows knitted together as one large hand wrapped around her unruly curls, fingers grazing her scalp. The other rubbed over her stomach, her lower belly tightening in—anticipation? —as he drew closer to the apex of her thighs. “What are you doing?”
“I wasn’t trying to attack you.”
“Oh,” she huffed, her veins hot. “So lunging at me and biting me were just forms of play then?”
He hummed at that and the sound tickled down her throat. Hermione was itching to go but his arms held her in place. Her eyes glanced for her clothes—the robes just on the other side of the room. I can just accio my wand and then hex him and get changed and leave. “It is considered foreplay in some cultures, you know?”
Her eyes widened at that, her mouth agape before his rich laughter trickled down her ears. “Right,” she hissed, twisting in his grasp. “Let me go, Malfoy!”
“Relax! I’m sorry, Granger. Don’t get your knickers in such a twist.”
“Oh! Don’t talk about my knickers!”
He allowed her to twist about, her amber eyes clashing with his silvery orbs, before he held her back in place—her cheeks puffed out as silver-blue crackles of magic flitted about her curls. “No? Well, that’s alright. I do much prefer you like this.” Her eyes widened, body tense and frozen as he flashed her a smirk—silver orbs looking from her eyes to her lips to her exposed chest. She squeaked and tried to cover herself up, but he wouldn’t allow that—his body hovering over hers, large hands pinning her wrists to the bed. “Looks like the room decided to give us a bed.” He quirked his brow suggestively, his lips tilting up at the corners.
“You foul, git!”
“Oh, I do love the terms of endearment. Just warms my heart.”
“Like you have one.”
“You wound me, Granger.” Hermione huffed as her attempts to twist and buck and wiggle herself free proved futile. Her eyes snapped to his—the pupils dilated as she shifted beneath him, his body settling between her hips. He inhaled sharply, eyes screwed shut as something like silk-covered steel warmed against her stomach. Her mouth ran dry when he lowered his forehead to hers—his blond hair tickling her skin. “Granger.” His voice was almost a purr—a guttural rumbling sound that slithered from his chest and settled in the pit of her stomach.
“Yes?” Her voice was small, her chest heaving in and out as his scent invaded her lungs—dark and earthy.
His eyes snapped open—the flecks of blue swirling in the silvery depths visible to her but only just—the pupils almost blotting out his irises. “Tell me to stop.” His voice was strained like a fine muscle and he looked every bit like he didn’t want to stop—never wanted to stop. She held her breath and just blinked slowly at him as he leaned back, his erection warm against the apex of her thighs as he shifted positions. “Fuck.” His hands smoothed down her body, warmth fanning out where he touched—the frost in her bones slowly receding away. He took in every bit of her—the slender slope of her neck, the curves of her breasts, how her nipples hardened in the crisp air. His eyes snapped back to her own as she bit her lip, his nostrils flaring in response before his thumb pulled her lower lip free from her teeth. In an instant his mouth was on hers—lips molding to one another as his fingers massaged and kneaded her breasts. A gasp bubbled from her throat as his fingers pinched and pulled at her nipples, the flesh throbbing beneath his touch. He slipped his tongue in and slipped it over hers—his fingers skimming over her taut stomach before circling her lower lips. She arched her back from the bed as his long fingers prodded her entrance, a hiss falling from his lips as her slick coated his fingers. “So wet, already. Just for me?” He slipped in another finger and a shiver trickled up her spine as he pumped his digits in and out for a moment before inspecting them. His eyes snapped back to hers when he took his middle digit in his mouth, a guttural hum sounding from him as he licked her juices from his skin. “Taste how delicious you are,” he whispered as he held his pointer finger to her lips. His eyes darkened as her tongue flicked against his finger—her tangy taste coating her taste buds. She took him into the wet, hot cavern of her mouth—tongue sliding along his skin as she sucked her slick from him. “Such a good girl.”
She stifled a moan as he leaned forward and peppered kisses down her neck, suckling her pulse point. His tongue traced down to her breasts, twisting over each nipple as he nipped and sucked at her flesh. His hands rubbed her thighs, smooth circles against her heated skin as he pushed her legs apart—his body sinking lower and lower. He ghosted hot open-mouthed kisses down her flushed body until he drew closer to the apex between her thighs—his teeth nipping at the flesh before he pulled her legs farther apart, looking at her closely. Her cheeks flamed—no one had ever looked at her his closely before—this intimately. “Malfoy,” she began but he ignored her as he pressed his face to her, his tongue licking up her slit. “You—you don’t have to.”
Her lower lip was between her teeth as he snapped back, an elegant brow quirked as he gave her a lopsided smirk. “I want to, Hermione.”
The way her name rolled off his tongue ignited a fire in her lower belly that she didn’t even know she had. He reached up and smoothed her lip from the assault of her teeth—the silent question hanging between them. Finally, after a long beat, she nodded softly. “Oh!” she moaned as he dipped back down to her, his tongue focusing on her little nub. He licked and sucked, his wet muscle pumping inside of her trembling walls before swirling at her clit. Her body arched forward, her fingers scraping along his scalp as she swiveled her hips to his face. She felt him chuckle against her, the vibrations tightening the coil in her lower belly, as his large hands gripped her thighs and pushed her down.
“Stay,” he commanded. The demand should have irked her, but it didn’t—instead a soft moan fell from her lips as she stilled her body as best she could.
He went back to eating her out, white tingles sparking up and down her skin. Hermione’s head lolled to the side as her eyes rolled to the back of her head—the pressure building and building until his tongue hit her nub just right and everything exploded.
“Malfoy!” she cried as the tingles danced across her vision and slithered down to her toes.
Malfoy gave one last lick before he dredged his body back up, his eyes like dark storm clouds and lips glistening. His tongue flicked over his lips and he let out a moan, his eyes closing momentarily before he snapped them open and locked gazes with her. “Next time you cry out my name in pleasure, I want it to be my given name.”
A sated smile crossed her lips as her fiery gaze snapped to his icy orbs. “You’re going to have to make me, Malfoy.”
“Is that a challenge?” He arched a platinum brow as he settled back between her thighs, his erection twitching against her skin.
She hummed softly before her brows knitted together. “Do you want me to—to—”
“Reciprocate?”
Hermione let out a soft sigh, glad Malfoy could know what she was thinking or trying to say without her having to say it. “Yes?”
He chuckled at that, the amusement coloring his eyes. “As much as I’d love to have your hot, bossy lips wrapped around my cock—I really want to be inside you. Maybe next time, love.”
A chocolate brow arched up as one large hand gripped her hip and the other guided his prick to her entrance. “Oh? That’s assuming we have a next—”
With a snap of his hips, he silenced her—a gasp falling from her lips as he slid into her heat. Panic flitted over his pointy features as he stared at her, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. “You weren’t a virgin, were you?”
“Now’s the time to ask that?” She rolled her eyes but shook her head. “No, Malfoy. You were not my first.” He seemed to sigh softly at that—a mixture of contentment and what looked like jealousy crossing over his face for a moment before she slanted her hips up—his eyes rolling back as he inched deeper inside of her. “Move, please,” she whimpered.
“Fuck,” he groaned as her heat enveloped him—her walls fluttering over his thick length. “You feel so good.”
He began at a languid pace, thrusting in and out softly. Hermione met his thrusts, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she arched her body into him. “Malfoy,” she moaned, his pubic bone bumping her clit.
“Try again, love,” he whispered, his hot breath tickling her ear before he bit down—sharp tingles curling her toes in.
“Draco!” she mewled as he pinched and pulled at her nipples, his rhythm still slow and shallow. She huffed out a moan, her eyes flashing at him. “Move!”
“I am moving, Princess.” He shot her an amused grin, his lips tilting up at the corners as he leaned his head to the side.
“If you don’t go faster and harder, I swear—”
With a feral grunt, his fingers bruised her hips as he slammed his down—his length plunging in and out at a brutal pace. “Gods, you have no idea how good your tight little quim feels.”
Her nails scratched down his shoulder blades and he hissed in response. “Faster, Draco.”
“Fuck,” he growled as he pulled out of her, smirking at the look of utter disappointment she shot him before he flipped her around—her chest pressed against the mattress as he pulled her hips towards him. With a savage thrust, he was back inside—pounding in and out, the slap of skin echoing in the small room.
“Fuck!”
“Oh, you’ve got quite the mouth on you, Hermione,” he whispered as one hand gripped her hip and the other wove into her riotous curls—pulling her flush against him. “Such a pretty fucking mouth.”
Her head fell against his shoulder as she tried to keep up with him—her hips slamming down as he thrust up. The new angle was sending shimmers of pleasure through her veins, the coil in her lower belly tightening up. “Fuck, I’m close.”
The hand on her hip slipped forward, fingers smoothing against her heated skin before he started to rub at her clit. A moan hung from her tongue as jolts of pleasure bubbled from her throat. “That’s it, love, come undone.” His voice was low and deep, hot breath fanning over her neck. “I want to feel this tight pussy of yours squeezing me—milking me dry.” He flicked his tongue over her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. “Cum.” It wasn’t like his earlier command, but it still did it for her—between the hard snap of his hips and the way his calloused fingertips pinched and rubbed at her sensitive nub, her orgasm hit her violently.
“Draco!” Waves of white-hot pleasure misted over her as he continued to pump into her, his hands rubbing up and down her body—his cool skin soothing her heated flesh. He bit her shoulder, the pain barely registering in Hermione’s mind, as she came—her walls wrapping around his twitching member. She slumped forward, her muscles sated and bones tired. He pulled her hair from her face and laid her head on the pillow before he readjusted himself inside of her—his body slithering over hers as he set his brutal pace once more.
Her hips were still swiveling to meet his deep thrusts, his breath panting against her skin as his fingers laced with hers. “Fuck,” he chanted, his thrusts becoming erratic as their sweat-slick skin molded together. “So fucking tight,” he moaned, the sound almost feral before her name tumbled from his lips like a prayer—his body pinning her down to the bed. He gave shallow thrusts as his weight pushed her to the mattress, his thick member pulsing his hot seed within her. “Fuck.”
“So eloquent,” she murmured when he stilled, a final jerk of his hips before he settled on top of her. “Can you get off?”
“Hmm,” he mumbled against her curls. “Feels nice.”
“You’re heavy!”
His chuckle was light and airy—breathless, almost, as he pulled her against him and twisted them to the side—his member still within her wet, tight walls. “Feels too good to slip out just yet.” Hermione let out a deep breath before she relaxed into his embrace, his long fingers smoothing over her skin. “Don’t let me forget to do the contraceptive charm.”
“I’m on the pill.” She felt him still behind her and could practically feel the confusion coming off him in steady waves. “It’s a type of muggle contraception. But, yes, we can cast the charm, as well.”
He pressed his lips to her neck in a warm kiss, inhaling her scent as he settled behind her—his softening member slipping out. “I cannot believe Hermione Granger has wanted to shag me that badly.”
“What are you on about?” Hermione peeked at him over her shoulder, amber eyes narrowed as a smirk graced his lips. “You’re the one who wanted to shag me.”
A platinum brow shot up, his smirk still in play. “Oh? Do you give in so easily as to shag me all through classes?”
Her eyes widened as horror filled her lungs—tasting of ash. “Oh no! I cannot believe I’m this irresponsible and I can’t believe—what?” Mirth swirled in his silver orbs, lips spread in a wide smile before laughter peeled from him in short bursts.
“Oh! You should have seen your face! Honestly!” He wiped at some tears that had gathered in the corners of his eyes. “It’s Saturday, my little otter. No classes.”
“Saturday?”
He gave a small nod, his lips twitching up and down trying to suppress another bout of laughter. “Saturday.”
She snorted at him, a small chuckle bubbling up her throat before she huffed and turned back around—his arms wrapping around her waist. “I’m not your ‘little otter,’ Malfoy.”
“It’s Draco, say it with me now,” he began, his voice as snotty as he could possibly make it. “Dray-co.”
“Draco, I am not your little anything.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
“If anything,” she began, lips pouted in mock thought. “You’re my little ferret!” she squeaked as he flipped her on top of him, her thighs resting on either side of his hips. Laughter filled the small room as her hands slid up his chest, fingers tracing the faint-white lines that dotted his pale skin. “How long?”
It amazed her how quickly he could make his face void of all emotion—silver eyes the only thing not blank as he considered her for a long moment. He let out a long sigh, his hands settling on her hips. “We’re not so different, you and I—like fire and ice.” His voice was like the wind—soft and light. She hummed in response, their gazes locked on one another. “Third year.”
“Third year?”
“That slap was pretty hot, Granger.”
She rolled her eyes before pushing his shoulder. “Hermione. Say it with me now, Her-my-oh-nee.”
“Hermione,” he repeated, the silver in his eyes flashing at her. “Will you go to Hogsmead with me next weekend?”
She seemed to tilt her head in thought, considering him for a long moment as he pouted at her. Smirking, she nodded. “Yes. Though I think we did this backwards.”
“I do think you’re right. Well, I think we should make the best of this little slip before we set things proper.”
“I guess I will allow it,” she whispered as she leaned down, ghosting her lips over his. “As long as you admit that, if anything, you’d be my little ferret and not the other way around.”
He shook his head at that, his lips searching for hers as she arched back—earning a low growl. “No, way. You’ll be my little otter.”
“Otters are bigger than ferrets, Malfoy.”
“We just went over this, Hermione. I thought you were the brightest witch or was that a load of bollocks?”
Her eyes flashed, fire dancing in their honey-colored depths. “Draco,” she warned, her tone low and dark.
“So, stop this little farce of a debate because in the end, you’re going to be my little otter,” he promised with a smile—all white teeth.
“That’s not at all how I see it.”
He hummed at that before crashing their lips together, the white-hot intensity of it all trickling down her spine. “I’m sure there’s a challenge in there somewhere.”