Innocent Insult, Part II

    "So, I bet you really let her have it, huh?" Crabbe chuckled, nudging Draco. "That'll teach that bitch to go after you. Stupid Mudblood."

    "Yeah," Draco replied halfheartedly. He was distracted, watching Hermione and Ron from across the room. Ron had her arm around her, chatting away a mile a minute, while Hermione tried to concentrate on the book she had her nose in. A slight smile spread across Draco's lips-- the girl was always studying. Her mind must be a veritable library, he thought admiringly.

    It had been only yesterday that Draco and Hermione went from sworn enemies to secret lovers, but there was already a change in the attitudes of both of them. After their romp in Draco's chamber and the decision to keep their affair a secret, he had ordered Crabbe and Goyle away so that they wouldn't see his goodbye kiss with Hermione, or the tender look in his eyes as he watched her go. On the other hand, Parvati, whom Hermione had ungraciously dismissed earlier, was struck with confusion as she saw Hermione gliding down the hallway, flushed and beaming.

    "I just don't see how Professor Snape can expect us to memorize this so quickly," Ron was saying exhaustedly. "I've been over those chapters loads of times, and I still can't tell thistle milk from blancberry juice."

    Harry nodded his agreement. "It's ludicrous to demand this kind of work. Potions isn't our only class."

    "He doesn't seem to know that," Ron replied listlessly, then shifted his attention to Hermione. "So, you'll never guess what Ginny said to me this morning." A smile played on his face.

    Angrily, Hermione slammed her book shut. "Honestly, Ronald, can't you tell I'm trying to study? You're not the only one with homework, you know."

    Ron was taken aback. "Sorry."

    She let out a puff of air, and gathered her things. "I'll just go to the library." With a flip of her hair, she marched off.

    Ron exchanged a confused look with Harry.

    "Dunno," he said.

    Ron furrowed his brow. "She's been weird all day. I don't understand it." He sighed. "I'm going to go for a walk. I could use some air."

    "Sorry," Harry said, as if that could make up for Hermione. "See you."

    "See you," Ron returned, and moped off.

    Harry opened his book, deciding to work on the daunting task of memorizing two hundred common potion ingredients while he had some alone time. That was short-lived, however, as he was soon joined by Draco.

    "What do you want, Malfoy?" came the ungracious greeting.

    "Uh, well..." Draco drummed his fingers on the table and looked at his feet. "I just wanted to... uh... apologize. For everything."

    Harry was completely surprised. "What?"

    "I've been an asshole, and I know it. I know it doesn't make up for anything, but I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry for being on your case all these years."

    With no idea what to say, Harry managed one word. "Uh... thanks."

    Draco sighed and got to his feet. "Well, I'll see you around."

    "Yeah," Harry replied. "Bye."

    Parvati, who had been watching this exchange with some interest, knew that something was going on. Hermione's glow in the hallway, Draco's change in behavior, the sudden change in interaction between Ron and Hermione. But before she could put the pieces together, Lavender Brown sat down and began to talk to her. She made a mental note to contemplate this later.



    Hermione irritably settled into a chair in the library and opened her textbook to chapter four. She was absorbing information on the origin of the Animagus when Draco sat down at her table, carefully choosing a spot across from her and two chairs away. Immediately, she felt her heart rate rise. Briefly, their eyes met, and as she felt the oncoming wetness, she risked a whisper.

    "Draco?"

    "Yeah?"

    "I want you. Now."

    He suppressed a smile. "It's the middle of the day. There's no safe place."

    "Can't we go back to your dormitory?"

    "No," Draco said. "The only reason it was empty yesterday is because I warned everyone to leave."

    The thought of every Slytherin knowing what Draco planned to do to her made her stomach quiver. "Then... do they all know why?"

    "No, no," he said quickly. "Only Crabbe and Goyle."

    Hermione let out a sigh of relief. "Okay."

    Colin Creevey passed by then, and the two immediately snapped their heads back to their books.

    "Hermione, maybe we should just let everyone know," he offered, once Colin had passed. "Then we wouldn't have to worry about us being seen together. We could talk in public. It would be nice."

    "Are you mad? Do you know what that would do to our reputations-- both yours and mine?"

    Draco sighed. "I suppose you're right."

    "You know I am."

    A wry smile crossed his face. "I do want you, though. I want to touch you... kiss you... own you..."

    A ripple of excitement coursed through Hermione's veins. She didn't know why, but she liked the idea of being owned. She liked being taken over, being dominated, being completely helpless. "Where can we go, Draco?"

    He thought a moment. "Well... we can't Apparate inside the castle, but I've worked around some of Dumbledore's old security before. There's a Portkey in my dormitory."

    "To where?"

    "My house. And no one should be home."

    Hermione brightened. "Really?"

    Draco leaned forward. "Tell you what. I know Potter's got an Invisibility Cloak. Go get it, and meet me in the Slytherin commonroom. I'll take you up to my room and we'll be off."

    "Alright," she said. "I'm off." Without a second look in his direction, she gathered up her things and started toward the Gryffindor dormitories.

    Once she was past the Fat Lady, she looked furtively around the commonroom. The only person around was Neville, and he was busy tending to the assortment of plants he kept in the corner-- he could be there for ages. She held her breath and tiptoed past him, ducking into the boys' dormitories.

    She knew right where to go-- she'd snuck in to visit Ron several times before, and if anyone else saw her, that was a likely story. Luckily, no one was lurking about. It was a nice day, and most of the Gryffindors were outside.

    Carefully, she peered around the corner to make sure no one was in the room. Once it was clear, she dashed in and went straight for Harry's trunk, rifling through his Muggle clothes, looking for his cloak.

    "What a mess," she said out loud, disgustedly parting dirty clothes from clean ones, which were all jumbled together in an unfolded heap. "Oh come on... where is the bloody thing?"

    Right then, she heard footsteps, followed by voices.

    "I just don't know what's wrong with her." Ron.

    "Have you tried talking to her?"

    Shit, Hermione thought, Ron and Neville... She was digging like crazy now, chucking parchment and quills aside-- the voices were getting closer...

    "She's just out of it lately."

    "You know Hermione." Neville was trying to be comforting. "She's probably just worked up about homework or something."

    "Yeah... but she's got it all down anyway." A pause. "That'd be like Hermione, though. Getting all fussed about absolutely nothing."

    How dare he? She was fuming. Then-- "Aha!" The corner of the cloak caught her eye, and she pulled it right from the trunk over her. And just in time, as Ron and Neville walked in that second.

    "What--" Ron stopped short at the sight of Harry's trunk, its contents spilled all over the floor.

    "Bloody hell," Neville breathed. "Wonder what happened here?"

    "Well if I had to guess, I'd blame Malfoy," Ron sneered. "Isn't he behind everything?"

    Hermione smiled. He'll be behind me soon enough, she thought, huddled in her corner.

    "Well, c'mon," Ron said. "Get that plant and let's go down to Professor Flitwick."

    Neville took a tall, sickly-looking purple cactus off of his nightstand, and he and Ron exited.

    Hermione waited a moment, then threw all Harry's junk back into the trunk and hurried off to the Slytherin commonroom.



    "Toad candles," she panted upon arrival, and the door swung open-- it shut with a bang as she stepped inside.

    "Whassat?" said Pansy Parkinson, stirring from a nap. "Who just came in here?"

    Crabbe was just as confused. "No one did."

    Pansy turned on him. "Of course someone did, the door opened, you git."

    "Oh, shut up," said Draco, who was waiting for Hermione in a wingback chair and knew very well who had just stepped into the room. He rose. "I'm going up to my quarters. No one better come up there until I come out." With a grand gesture, he swept upstairs, closely followed by the invisible Hermione.

    Once inside, she took her cloak off and Draco immediately pushed her over onto the bed, climbing over her. "I have half a mind to fuck you right here," he told her, running his hands over her torso and up into her hair. "But my bed at home is so much softer." He nodded toward a small silver shield on the table, his family crest. "Take hold."

    Hermione reached out, and before she knew it, she was whirling through the air, one hand on the crest and one hand in Draco's hand. Almost immediately, they had landed outside a giant mansion, pristine white and immense. Sculpted arborvitae flanked the door, surrounded neatly by circles of granite pieces.

    "Wow," she breathed. "It's amazing."

    Draco smiled. "Come inside. I think you'll like my room."

    Hermione followed him through the house, down halls decorated with paintings of the Malfoy ancestors, past rooms embellished with gilded door frames, and through a set of beautiful French doors.

    She was dumbfounded. Draco's bed was a canopy with silver posts in the shape of gently curving snakes, adorned with solid red-and-black curtains. Two red pillar candles atop tall wrought-iron holders stood guard on either side of the bed. Overhead, the ceiling was black, with a simple enchantment to make it look like the night sky. The walls were black as well, with oval windows made of red glass centered on either wall. The cherry-colored light cast a hauntingly beautiful glow over the room, illuminating the fibers in the rich black velvet-like carpet. "It's... gorgeous."

    "Yes," he agreed. "Somewhat like a dungeon, don't you think?"

    Hermione bit her lip and looked up at Draco. "Yes, Master," she whispered.

    Draco grinned devilishly and pushed her hard across the room, sending her stumbling onto his bed. She landed on plush red satin and relished the feel of it on her skin as she crept backwards, pretending that she wanted to escape what Draco was going to do to her.

    He sensed it. "You're not going to escape, angel," he cooed, almost sweetly, pulling out his wand. "Incarcerous!" And just that easily, Hermione was tied tightly to the four posts of Draco's bed, struggling.

    She put on her mask of fear and loathing immediately, turning away from him. "You're a monster, Malfoy."

    He snickered, advancing on her with a smug little smile. "Don't be coy, Granger." He took off his robe, revealing the beautiful body that had bewitched Hermione in the first place-- she couldn't help but look.

    "Yes," he encouraged, "stare at me. Worship me. I am your god."

    Desire was growing deep within Hermione, but she knew that resisting would only make it more fun. "No," she spat, "you are pathetic."

    She felt a hand at her throat, and her head was jerked to the center of the bed. "Look at me, bitch," commanded Draco, drawing his knife from the discarded robe and holding it to her cheek. "I'd hate to cut your pretty face."

    Hermione shuddered at the touch of the cold metal, and felt herself grow increasingly wetter as he caressed her face with the blunt side of the blade and slid it slowly down, down... he reached her robes and slowly slashed open the front with the utmost precision. Next he moved for the sleeves, slicing through the fabric. With one quick motion, he pulled her ruined robes from beneath her and hurled them across the room.

    Still bound by the ropes, she began to squirm. She felt deliciously exposed now, completely at Draco's mercy, victim to whatever violence he could commit.

    "That's it, angel," he whispered, coming down upon her, breathing into her ear. He nibbled on her earlobes. "You like that, don't you? Oh, yes."

    She jerked her head away. "I hate you."

    Roughly, he seized her chin. "You're my property. You'll love me, and you'll like it, because I say you will."

    "I'll do nothing of the sort."

    "Oh, really?" He leapt off the bed with ease, disappeared into his closet, and emerged with a roll of duct tape and a leather belt. Hermione's eyes grew wide.

    "Hate to do this, angel, but your big mouth is beginning to annoy." He ripped off a piece of duct tape, forced her mouth shut, and slapped it over her lips. Smiling devilishly, he folded the belt in two and brought it down against her pelvis.

    "This pussy is mine," he growled, running his fingers possessively over her lacy panties. He grabbed her harshly, and she squealed. Hermione knew he'd felt how soaking wet she was through the thin fabric, and noticed the tent in his boxers. She longed to reach for it, but her hands were bound tightly to the posts. She made a muffled sound, looking longingly in his direction.

    Draco knew what she wanted, and her reward was a harsh smack across the face with the belt. She screamed, feeling the pain and translating it into pleasure. "Bitch," he spat, "you'll have my cock when I want you--"

    Suddenly, the door burst open, and in strode Lucius Malfoy. His eyes darted from Draco to Hermione and back to his son. "What the hell is going on here?"

    "Uh..." Draco was caught off guard.

    This isn't for pleasure, Hermione willed him to say, while pretending like she wanted nothing more than Lucius to let her out of her bondage and send her on her way. She made her eyes huge and frightened.

    Lucius took several brisk steps toward his son, seizing him roughly by the arm and escorting him to the corner of the room. "Think of your lineage, Draco, if nothing else," he said in a harsh whisper. "And don't you forget who she is, either. Mudblood Gryffindor. Harry Potter's wench. You hate her."

    Draco straightened. "Don't think for an instant that this means something to me, Father. She's being taught a lesson."

    Reluctant to believe this, Lucius regarded his son sternly. "What did she do?" he asked curtly.

    "Umm..." His thoughts darted around. What was he going to say? Then he remembered how this had all began. "She came to Slytherin house to try and set a curse on me."

    Lucius seemed impatient. "Couldn't you have just killed her?"

    "I thought it better to teach her a lesson that she could live to tell the rest of the Gryffindors about. Besides, death would be the quick and easy way. She'll have to live with knowing this happened to her for the rest of her sick and pathetic Mudblood life."

    "Yes," Lucius said slowly, "I see your strategy. Carry on, then." And without a second look at Hermione, he walked out of the room.

    As soon as he had gone, Draco turned and sat beside Hermione on the bed, touching his wand to her ropes and removing the duct tape from her mouth. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I had no idea he was going to be here."

    "I know," she comforted, shaking the ropes off of her wrists. "That was a brilliant excuse, Draco."

    He shook his head. "Excuses aren't going to keep saving us. Something like this is bound to happen again." He sighed. "I think we're going to have to end it, Hermione."

    She sat up and put her arms around him. "I don't want to end it."

    "Neither do I, but what choice do we have?"

    A small smile came over her lips. "It's not like both of us haven't broken any rules before," she said. "What's one more going to hurt?"

    "We're going against my father, your friends, my friends, hell, even Hogwarts tradition. I've never heard of a Slytherin ending up with a Gryffindor in my life."

    Ending up with? What's on his mind?

    "Uh, I mean... dating," Draco quickly corrected, seeing the expression on Hermione's face.

    Hermione nodded. After that, she was too confounded to think straight. She ran her fingers seductively down his side and leaned close to his ear. "You know, Draco, your father thinks I'm being punished right now. You best make me make some noise."

    The evil grin reappeared on his face, and with a couple flicks of his wrist, Hermione was bound again. He didn't bother with the duct tape this time.

    "Come, angel," he whispered devilishly, his eyes flashing as he cut the straps of Hermione's bra with his knife and ripped her panties apart. He pointed himself at her opening. "Scream for me."

    And scream she did, as Draco drilled her hard into the bed. But not for mercy, because she knew that would never come. And she didn't want any.

    She'd found heaven in the house of Slytherin.