Bride of the HP Dragon

The room was filled with steam, and if Draco closed his eyes, he could almost imagine himself walking into the middle of a warm, fragrant cloud.He thought with pleasure of the hammam, which he and Narcissa had visited in Istanbul during a vacation.

Draco waved his hand, hoping to get a clear view from the thick moisture.There was a hint of hemostatic healing in the steam, which seemed like a good fit given his purpose.

oh she's gonna hate me...

He was experiencing a tightness in his chest, but not enough to keep him from going into the bathroom.It's an interesting feeling: not so much guilt, but not eagerness either.Regardless, it felt annoying, and he wished he could shake it off.

The water was up to her chin when he found her, and Granger was probably sitting on a lower step opposite the bath.Her eyes were closed and she looked utterly relaxed, making him jealous.This afternoon the bathroom was supposed to be his, and he needed a little time and space away from the real world.

Believing that Granger was the one who sabotaged his plans.

With a quick glance at the bathroom, Draco saw her clothes neatly folded and draped over the heated towel rack.Her shoes are under the shelf.This guy is always so stern, Draco thought with a roll of his eyes.

It wasn't always that neat, either, and she wasn't so neat and tidy when she undressed in the Muggle motel that carnival weekend.In their haste to undress, they tore off buttons and forgot them on the carpet.Draco was pretty sure the zipper on his trousers was broken too.During the entire journey home in the carriage (not to mention their hasty trip to the post office in Diagon Alley), his crotch had popped open.

The trousers had been cleaned at the manor and replaced with brand new zippers, courtesy of the ever efficient elf Tory.Thanks to Merlin, he didn't wear button-down trousers.After the tattoo, they almost fell into madness, as if a second of separation was excruciating pain.

Button was sure to frustrate Granger.He recalled that she couldn't walk in a straight line, she was concentrating on fighting the row of tiny buttons.She was so crooked that Draco had to take her to the front desk of the motel as close as possible.

Granger wasn't the most elegant woman when she was drunk, but she drank happily and laughed more in one night than Draco had seen in school in the past seven years.

If he accidentally killed someone, he would tell others that trying magic that they didn't understand was a bad thing.He could imagine this wonderful story ending in an inconvenient marriage to a loathsome Mudblood, all because he foolishly reached out to try an ancient and cunning magic.

He'd probably have to, had to forget the memories of a wild night that was mind-blowing, and with an annoying Mudblood, and then try to make up for the trouble he'd caused.

The evidence tattoos will be wiped off, but at least he has a memento.Granger's peach-pink underwear was at the bottom of his trunk, and he found himself staring oddly at it whenever he tried to rummage through it for a clean pair of socks.

"Yeah, I'm still here, and I'm not going anywhere unless you do something to me," the underwear seemed to say, nestled between a pair of comfy argyle socks and a fabulous pair of bright yellow Among the socks, Millicent had given it to him for Christmas two years ago.

It was something interesting buried somewhere in the brain, but Draco decided not to get to the bottom of what it was.Besides Granger, there were other, more pressing matters in his life that required attention.It was simply an exercise to get the girl out of his affections so he could concentrate on the task the Minister for Magic had given him.

Distraction is not a good thing when one takes on the task of espionage.He knew full well that it would be useful for a liar to have a clear and focused mind, not to think about colored toenails, curvaceous calves, and slightly curved lower back...

His mind insisted that this simple afternoon of encountering Granger would be a successful therapy session.Their evening in London hadn't been enough to shake him off from a hidden longing he didn't even know he had.

Better to fill the longing with a final, out-and-out pestering, and then he'll be able to leave her alone.

Yes, he certainly can.

Draco moved on (somewhat cautiously) to the marble bench in the corner and sat down, taking off his gloves.His left hand was stiff, so he tore the glove between his teeth and threw it aside, slamming it on the floor deliberately.The effect of tough leather products striking loudly on marble creates a great echo.

Granger was so startled that he nearly knocked his head in half against the edge of the tub.She also slipped in the water, got up and sprayed bath water.Unsurprisingly, the moral model's hands quickly cover up certain body parts that he would otherwise conceal.She ducked down and ducked into the water, her face completely hidden behind a handful of foam.

She was curled up to a black, wet head floating on the water, like a hairy frog resting on a water lily leaf...

He shook his finger at her.

"Malfoy!" Granger coughed and spouted a few more spouts. The bubble bath recipe might not taste very good.She pushed her hair away from her face: "What the hell are you doing here!"

He was untying the laces of his Quidditch boots, regretting that he had a supernatural ability to create knots that could not be undone.

"You should have figured it out, obviously I'm going to take a shower." It might not sound good to sound so excited, but Draco couldn't help it, it was always a lot of fun to piss her off.

The left boot came off, followed by the right.Draco tossed them aside.And then his gray wool socks...

Granger's eyeballs were in danger of falling out: "You want a shower?" she repeated, looking as stupid as Weasley, her hair clumps of foam.Her cheeks were a bright pink that was getting redder now.She had a good frame, Draco noticed.Thin and full of strength, it means her jaw never looks weak, nor does her quivering lower lip look pitiful.

"Yes, Granger, I'm going to take a bath, which will include pool water, soap, and a tub, and if I'm lucky," he paused to wicked effect, "and a companion."

She licked her lips, her expression of bewilderment turning to understanding, and then, inevitably, to anger.So angry that she forgot that her hands were supposed to cover her chest, her hands might have been clenched into fists underwater, and Draco had to admit that she was ready to punch him hard.

This may have been influenced by Blaise, and Merlin knew that this was the boy's patent.

For some reason, Draco found himself not liking the idea at all.If she started stealing sexy tricks from attractive Slytherin boys, then he'd rather she be his student, he must have enough knowledge to pass on.But now she was covered in cold rage (naked and covered in creamy foam).

Considering how other people at school see her, she's a sexy succubus or even a beautiful thief.

Draco was resigned to the fact that he found her pretty.Based on what had happened now and at graduation night, Draco was sure that if he lived to be an adult, he would always love a long-limbed, thin, messy brunette with fierce eyes and eloquence.

That's all he can think about, hey, gone are the days of blond busty barmaids.

The pain in the shoulder is obviously not enough to make his toughness wither due to the injury, and it is gradually showing its existence.He was going to have to do something to get his pants off, or Granger might cast a spell on him.Potter and Weasley would get word later, and he'd be greeted with more serious curses at dinner.

She was talking about something now, and the frightening scream she made when she realized what was going on was unforgettable.Granger was always soft-spoken, albeit in a condescending, chattering, complaining pattern.

"Perhaps you haven't noticed, Malfoy, the bathroom is being occupied right now! You pervert should be in line! Get out now, or I'm going to…"

"What? Are you going to make a complaint? Are you going to fill out a student feedback form and throw it in the suggestion box? No one can hear you screaming."

She snarls, really snarls, and it's cute: "You're not going to get it, you bastard. I'm not going to play these tricks with you! We have a deal." She slapped the water angrily.

Unfortunately, this made her realize her breasts were clearly visible through the foam.Merlin's Shepherd, why didn't the rest of the school notice that their Head Girl had such aesthetically pleasing breasts?Small but in proportion to hers, small firm nipples responded as quickly to his hands and lips as excited as her alluring face.

She was skinny and childish, but she had just the right curves and softness.These traits are hidden under durable jumpsuits in winter and baggy undershirts or trousers in summer.

But maybe it was better that way, and if the other boys were looking at her vaguely, and stuttering when they looked at her, then maybe she was starting to get the hang of it.

That's what Ron Weasley does, sucks, and is annoying, thank goodness.

His memories of that night in London are still fresh, though the fact doesn't affect him as strongly as the first day.Compared with those piles of things that really happened, he has a deeper memory of the senses.He remembered how she felt in his palm, vaguely recalled how those breasts fit in his palm, remembered how elastic and silky her skin was, remembered the graceful curve of her shoulders, remembered the softness under his lips. Lingering over the shoulders and necks.

Granger was by no means unresponsive when these contacts occurred.Granger gave Draco a taste of her usual self-assurance, fueling a staggering passion with her drunkenness.To be honest, if she was his woman, he would definitely keep her away from alcohol for the sake of her life's safety.Just in case some other satyr takes advantage of her weakness and sneaks in, like he did.

Even if he would have thought it was her "innocence" (a word Crabbe used to justify his redneck Bubaston girlfriend), there was a genuine innocence in Granger that intrigued him immensely.It was like discovering a color that had never been seen before.

She splashed water on him, quite a lot in fact.The effect was positive, and he brushed the wet hair off his face, washed the dirt off his bleeding nose with water, and looked at her mockingly.

"Calm down, Granger," he mocked gravely, "You're going to hurt yourself."

"If you don't get out, I'll hurt you." Excited, she looked around desperately, probably trying to find a weapon in the soapy water.Her wand was kept with her clothes so she couldn't reach it.

But with a handful of soaps, bath salts, essential oils, and bubble bath poms...

Soap fell on his head, one after another, and he dodged cleverly from these small, hard weapons.Then a jar of bath salts flew in and shattered on the bench.The foam bath polo was next, but it was soggy, hitting the wall with an inconspicuous muffled thump, then slid down, leaving a trail of water.

"You disgusting pervert!" she screamed, reaching for the soap tray again, which unfortunately was attached to the tub.She tugged for a moment, realizing that her breasts were completely exposed, and then sank back into the water, staring at him angrily.

If he laughed now, she would probably be angrier, and maybe hurt herself.So Draco pursed his lips and controlled himself, avoiding the gleaming shards of glass strewn across the floor, and started pulling away his protective padded vest.

At the same time he let out a low hum.

His calm behavior had clearly irritated her, but there wasn't much she could do unless she could step out of the bath, naked and wet, get her wand, and cast a spell on him.

"I swear, Malfoy, if you don't leave right away, I'll go straight to Dumbledore."

This is what he was waiting for, and she needed to know how dangerous the mission he took on was.Draco knew she wouldn't talk, and to do so would be to admit that she was as bad as anyone else.

And, she likes him.

Although maybe he was too eager to test this "like", and the means were too drastic...

However, it is always possible for young people to make some stupid decisions and then learn from their mistakes.Draco was ready to scare her.If they did make a mistake this afternoon that could have been avoided, but at least it was a happy one.

Once the vest was off, he took off his sweaty Quidditch jersey again, grunting slightly as he ripped the left sleeve from his injured arm, and threw it on the bench.The pain made him blink several times before he could see again, and if he passed out, she might drown him or something.

He turned to the wall and began to undo his pants for their mutual benefit.

"Wear your pants, Malfoy!!!"

Hermione was restless, and Malfoy chose to force his way in, completely ignoring the fact that the bathroom was occupied.Even "breaking in" alone doesn't describe his actions.The bastard, he did it all quietly.He's just... wandering around, announcing his intentions and hoping she's left undisturbed.

There was no doubt that their past night was a poor excuse for him.Well, she was indeed disturbed.This was exactly what she expected Malfoy to do, and hoped he wouldn't do it.Maybe other girls would find that charming, find him unpredictable and ecstatically swooning, but it wasn't her.She hated him for making himself look like a prudish woman, like how uninteresting she was.

The words he had woken up that terrible morning began to haunt him again.

"Do you remember?"

"What do I recall?"

"That stick I rampaged in your ass last night."

Really?She's too prudish to see the bright side of things?What's the harm in playing a side-ball with a spell?She'd certainly be happy to go down that road, to unwind from the graduation blues from the night of the party.

The other prefects brought their companions into the bathroom several times.Did alcohol unleash her true nature?What is her true temperament?

Bright red most likely, thought Hermione. Does evil itself have a color?

They are all of legal age.If she agreed to... what exactly did she agree to?Exhausted and threatened by your relationship?After being toyed with, wait for him to get bored and throw it away?There are always some things that a woman has to tolerate, whether Muggles or wizards.Draco Malfoy was one of them.

The reality is when FidaMia's effect ends and her true feelings for him start to become uncertain.Maybe she's dead wrong, because longing has led to his conflicting attitude toward her, which is calm, funny, and warm one moment, and cold, unfeeling, and terrifying the next.

It's stupid, she's stupid.Hermione felt like a girl who had burst her dream bubble, because the boy was just as sleazy as she had thought.

If he made her cry now, she would never forgive him.

A deeper emotional analysis was interrupted by a strange sensation of goosebumps, a surge of passion from within that permeated every corner of her body.It felt like someone had dropped an unreal hot rock into the water, further intensifying the heat and steam already filling the room.

Contrary to her good judgment, she raised her eyes to see what new shenanigans he was up to and was greeted by his bare back, tattooed to represent the horrific little problems they all faced.

There were his wings, and they looked wonderful, just like the last time she had seen them.Another close look, without the barriers of clothing and crowds, is simply blinding.His smooth back was covered with sweat, giving a beautiful sheen to those black flowing wings.Every ripple and movement of the muscles under the skin brings the tattoo to life.He looks like a wounded angel, fresh off the ground (or just out of a fight), with all the tension of a fight.

The left wing was bent slightly, and Hermione noticed a fresh scar on his flawless skin.

"Jesus, did Bligh do it?" she exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at the severe contusion that had marred his left shoulder.Everyone saw the foul, but it didn't look serious from the stands, but it was bruised and bruised.

He looked at her, then glanced down at the eye injury, then shrugged: "I will ask him to get it back."

Even though he was used to occasional sports injuries, this still hurt like hell.Harry would do the same, boys are always so silly...

"Pomfrey gave me a jar of ointment, and I hope to get your help." He continued.

Her sympathy was gone, and she wished she could throw something at him again.He obviously knew he wasn't welcome, but he still asked to bathe with her shirtless so she could role-play as a nurse.

His pants were still on, so maybe there was hope.

"You're counting on the impossible, so..." she said bluntly, "Go away, Malfoy, and find Pansy or your other prey to serve you."

He looked annoyed, and slightly confused: "Pansy was never the prey. Why does everyone think that?"

Maybe it's your reputation as a Hogwarts playboy, Hermione thought to herself, but was too polite to say so.She was polite, even if he was rude.

On the surface, she turned her back to him and hugged her arms tightly.If all else fails, then maybe ignoring will make him go.

But obviously, Hermione was out of luck.

"I saw your whole ass, Granger. You've seen mine too. Close up, remember?" he said, followed by the unmistakable sound of trousers coming off.

Honestly, no one would zip that long!He was trying to be annoying on purpose.

"Unfortunately, yes, I do remember," she murmured, horrified to find that the heat had crept up to her chest.Hermione took another quick look to make sure the towel and bathrobe were too far apart.She had only a small bath towel beside her.

If only she could master the Flying Wandless Charm, Harry could do it.

"I'll count to five, you disgusting pervert. If you don't leave, I'll maim you." The futile threat would never work on him, so she hardened her tone: "One... two... ..."

"You're beautiful," he told her in a calm tone, no teasing at all this time, he was almost naked, and his voice sounded even honest: "I don't think I told you, you got me all over my head you."

Hermione's mouth felt dry, and when he mentioned things he couldn't say, his tone was always a little low, but he managed to blurt them out.She didn't think she'd get used to it, even if she'd been married to him for 30 years.He had always had that knack for shocking her, naturally.

"You're a liar, a jerk, and I'd be a complete idiot if I slept with you. Three!"

"You have pity on me," he begged.

He was in the water, and Hermione heard the soft splash and felt the ripples, and she opened her mouth to express her doubts.

"You give me enough! Four!"

She peeked over her shoulder, and he stayed on his other end, leaning against the wall of the pool with his eyes closed.Even from this distance, she could still see the wet and pointed eyelashes on his wet cheekbones.A bruise ran along his jaw, and it looked painful.There was some blood under the nose, scattered around the mouth and chin.

He looked bruised, but despite this, he was like Satan, and she couldn't help thinking about him.

A minute or more passed, and just when she was satisfied that he might just leave it at that, she was ready to leave.If he wanted to look at her, so be it.

"Where are you going?" he asked, almost as soon as she thought of it.

She stared at him as if he was asking her whether the trousers had two or three legs: "Stay away from you, keep washing, the bathroom is yours now."

"Stay here." He said simply, with only a subtle plea in his tone.So tiny, yet ridiculously addictive.

Hermione was sure Malfoy was the type of person who should have his tongue cut off and forced to swallow it himself, before he begged anyone.

"Draco, you're crazy, do you know that?" He really needed to know what he was doing.

"Stay here." This time, there was no gentleness or politeness on his face.It was like when they were at Malfoy Manor and he had seduced her outside his father's study.He was good at it, and Draco always got what he wanted.

"Stay here or I'll tell Potter and Weasley we fucked like fertile rabbits last weekend and you gave me the best blowjob I've ever had." That was his usual cruelty tone.

She has to find a way to do something, her reputation is a very favorable bargaining chip.Hermione felt the blood on her cheeks fade away: "You wouldn't do that." She said provocatively, "We'll both be hurt."

"Not necessarily." He shrugged his intact right shoulder and told her.She realized his eyes had changed color, in the relative darkness of the bathroom, they had gone from bright silver in the sun to a dark gray like an old metal.

He moved away from the pool wall, frightened her with the movement of holding her hand, and pressed her back into his arms.But she didn't struggle right away, the clamp on her wrist loosened and he began to stroke the cartilage in her hand with an exasperating ease.

"Potter and Weasley might try to beat me, and I'll live," he told her, stroking her hand.The feeling of his fingers sliding into her palm is disconcerting: "My father will take care of everything. He needs me. He knows that I will eventually inherit him. If Lucius decides to play a temper with the Ministry of Magic's arrangement with him, then I will Help Professor Snape deal with him."

She wanted to hug his shoulders and shake out all the magical logic in his mind: "A week ago, you were as eager as me to get rid of these troubles." She insisted.

"I have enough time to consider the pros and cons. Maybe there is a way to seduce you while preserving my own reputation." He suddenly laughed, "Then you will become the white man of my Captain Ahab." elephant."

"That's Moby Dick, you disgusting slug," he obviously didn't know how the book "Moby Dick" would end.She kind of wanted to tell him that Captain Ahab had accidentally speared himself in both feet after a week of stalking in his stupid little boat, and bled miserably slowly to death.

She was shaking with anger and some indescribable emotion, and she realized it was probably sadness, and disappointment wasn't enough to describe how she felt right now: "So you're threatening me now?"

Annoyed that her voice was trembling and broken, Hermione began to twist her wrist stubbornly, and Draco held on to it equally stubbornly.At this moment, both of them were silent, as if they only had each other in their eyes.Hermione found it unbelievable that he dared to look her in the eyes after what he said.

"Can't you put some ointment on my shoulder?" he said suddenly, sounding impatient for the first time since entering the bathroom. "Help, that's all I want."

"why?"

"Because I'm in so much pain," he said with a cold expression, picking up the ointment that was on the floor by the bathtub again.

Hermione watched as he unscrewed the cap, scooped out a thick wad of ointment and hurried it into her hand.Underwater, he wrapped his ankles around her calves to free his hands, the hair on them tickling her.He pulled her closer to him, so close that his hardness was against her belly.

The hard touch made her dizzy, and a surge of heat rushed into her abdomen, as if a butterfly had found a warm nest.

The boy has no virtue of modesty, he doesn't even blush.

"You see, I have no secrets from you." He brushed away a lock of curly hair from her ear, staring with interest at the lock of hair tightly wrapped around his fingers.

Her hair refused to obey, and in summer she thinned it all over.

"Damn it, you're not without secrets," retorted Hermione, with an indescribable chagrin at not knowing him all: "What did Dumbledore tell you in his office last Wednesday? What the hell is wrong with your shoulder that Madam Pomfrey can't fix? And what does Snape have to do with your father's emotions? Did they get married at Death Eater camp or something? friend?"

He raised his eyebrows: "What other activities. You have too many problems. You start rubbing medicine on me now, maybe I will tell you."

Casting aside every shred of instinct, throwing aside her good sense, Hermione did as he asked, if only out of curiosity, she told herself.

She spread the ointment evenly on her fingers and began to massage him.The scent of the salve was reminiscent of eucalyptus, as well as several common essential oils that Snape often used in his different healing potions.She wasn't very gentle at first, and every time she deliberately prodded, it made him grumble.

There was no denying that he had some horrible lumps on his shoulders, so she massaged them a little harder.Hermione felt better at the thought that he might be having a hard time at least for a few days.

However, he neither complained nor stopped her.Just stared at her blankly.She could almost feel him staring at her flushed face, downcast eyes, and her lips.She felt a sudden urge to pull her hair over her face and avoid his gaze.

"Granger, I swear I can feel your face heating up. You don't think you're taking care of a sick sibling...or a pet, do you?"

She stared at her hands: "Crookshanks is not sick, and I am an only child. Don't you Death Eaters investigate properly?"

"I'm pretty sure the Death Eaters are investigating, but I'm not a Death Eater so I really don't know," he replied sharply, probably disgusted by the associations.Then he added, this time in a more thoughtful tone: "I didn't notice you were an only child, you don't look like it."

For some reason, he seemed fascinated by the shape of her pinnae and earlobes, he couldn't help touching them, and the curve of her jaw caught his attention.He slid up and down with his knuckles and landed on her lips.

"So, how am I doing?" she asked, placing two thumbs on the worst part of the bruise, pressing gently on a patch of bruising.

His face twitched: "Lovely, you act like you are caring for helpless patients and animals with all your heart and soul."

She snorted. "Ron and Harry would love to hear that."

"Harry is a conflicted savior who is overly fatalistic, borderline-depressed and defiant of authority simply because deep down he thinks he's better than us. Ron, on the other hand, suffers from wearing his brother's old clothes forever. Possibly more talent than he shows. He's so used to being No. 2 in everything that it makes him feel more at ease. Letting him win his own achievements scares him, which is why he's in Quidditch Oddley can only do his best to perform normally. It's not so much that he resents Potter, it's better to say that he adores Potter, he fell in love with you, and for a long time resented that he didn't have you."

After Draco finished speaking, he noticed a drop of water slipping down the tip of Hermione's nose.

Hermione stared at him in shock, all the nasty, secret, ugly things she'd thought of boys doing for the past seven years, all Draco had explained in just a few sentences.

"You're not the only one watching and learning," he explained, pulling her into his arms.It was an emotional and physical outburst, and she found herself shocked for a moment.

The spell multiplied with every shake, every tremor of her emotion.Hate and fear are amplified, as are those confronting ambivalence.Her stomach churned and her heart beat like a drum.

The idea of ​​her wanting to hold him in her arms until all the bad things in the world melted away was so disgusting.Especially when she was sure that what she wanted to drive away were the bad things in his heart.

"You should be in the hospital wing," she concluded.God knows what her eyes are showing at this moment, there are too many emotions leaked, but maybe, she doesn't care.

"Yeah, I should have stayed there," he replied, looking serious, actually agitated.He seemed to want to kiss her, just like last week before he kissed her in the Forbidden Forest.

"Please don't touch me," said Hermione, though shivering from the heat.

"Trust me, I'm trying not to touch you." His voice was hoarse, like a whisper.

Oh my God, my God, my God, he was a boy, just a boy, and she could have him.

"Damn it, let it be, Granger. I swear I won't hurt you."

Liar, she thought sadly, and she kissed him.