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Hermione knew she was dangerously out of her element. Padma and Hannah both urged her on. Nox was an exclusive nightclub in Hogsmeade. However, it was a little-known secret that Head Boys and Head Girls of each year were allotted entrance as a way to blow off steam. 

Hermione knew she needed a way to relax. A way to let go of all the stress piling up about her N.E.W.T.s. But a sex club? 

“Everything is completely anonymous,” Hannah reassured her. “You get a mask when you walk in; the rest is your choice. You can live out those fantasies only the darkest recesses of your mind know about.” 

“So you don’t even know who you’re doing it with?” Hermione asked.

“That’s what’s so brilliant about the masks. You see your fantasy, while your partner sees theirs. And if there’s more than one partner… well…” 

Padma and Hannah erupted into a fit of giggles. Hermione looked around the library and shushed them. 

“It’s safe,” Padma reassured her. “We’re single. Why not enjoy our last year?”

“We’re all adults,” Hannah shrugged.

“And isn’t this easier than a boyfriend?” Padma asked. “No commitment, no strings attached. Just you, a mask, and pleasure. Then you go home.”

“And you go home satisfied,” Hannah giggled. 

“And they really wouldn’t know it’s me?” Hermione said. “And I wouldn’t recognize them?”

“No,” Padma said. “The idea is that your fantasy would sync up with your partner’s. So your partner, let’s say it’s Harry.”

“Godrick, no!”

“Okay, Ron.”

“Padma!”

“Fine! Your partner is A.”

She waited for Hermione to argue over the letter, but Hermione nodded. 

“So your partner A comes in with a fantasy. You also have one. Your masks sync up. You see who you want to see. You’d never know it was A. If you were envisioning B the whole time, it’d be them. But you’d experience your fantasy and theirs with your choice of partner.”

“You just serve as pegs and holes,” Hannah smiled. 

Hermione gave her an exasperated look, which sent them into giggles again. 

“Don’t be such a prude about this, Hermione,” Hannah urged. “You have a vibrator. It’s the same thing. Except someone is working the vibrator exactly how you’d like it. And a scene is all drawn out for you.” 

Hermione sighed. Her curiosity was going to be the death of her. 

*

Hermione fidgeted. Upon showing her Head Girl badge at the door, she was ushered into a slender hallway. She stood outside a door and watched as a small hatch slid open to reveal her mask. She noticed that the black lace didn’t have any ties that would attach it. She gently raised it toward her face. Immediately, the black fabric molded perfectly to her face and settled comfortably over her eyes and nose. She wore the traditional black dress that the dress code required and shifted nervously from her heels to her toes. 

It was just sex, she reminded herself. She could leave at any time. She could stop things at any time. She was in control. This was her fantasy. 

Slowly, the door opened, and her fantasy unfurled. She looked around and saw the Charms classroom before her. She walked in and chose the back row at the end. She chose the seat on the left, leaving one space open on her right. Her chest rapidly rose and fell while she waited in anticipation. Her palms were sweaty. She was in her school robes now. She watched in frightening realism as her classmates began to fill the space. Harry and Ron took the bench in front of her, leaving the space beside her open. She watched as students from the other house entered the classroom as well. Her heart rate sky-rocketed. She kept her eyes on Flitwick, too nervous about what would happen next. 

She felt a shift as a figure took the seat beside her. Their books were piled on the space before them. She felt their nearing proximity. She could smell his cologne. She bit down on her lip. Her hands were trembling in her lap. 

It was just a fantasy, she reassured herself. She just needed to think about it like a dream. 

Long fingers brushed her hair off her neck and over her shoulder. A kiss pressed lightly behind her ear. A shuddering breath escaped her lips, but she didn’t turn toward him. He kissed her again. His nose brushed gently behind her ear and set her hair on end. Chill bumps covered her neck, arms, and legs as he pressed delicate kisses against her neck. 

“Alright, class,” Professor Flitwick said from the front. 

He pulled his mouth away from her neck. Hermione tried to swallow as she focused on the charms lesson. She was turned slightly on the bench toward Flitwick. Her back was to her bench partner. 

Her breath stilled as she felt him scoot closer behind her. He swung his leg over the other side of the bench, now straddling it, as he brought her closer to him. Her back was almost flush with his chest now. 

His right hand slid over the top of her thigh. He discretely slid it under her skirt. He took his wand in his left hand and pressed the tip of it against her bum. 

“Diffindo,” he said, and her knickers instantly tore from her waist. 

Hermione tried not to gasp. He hadn’t cut her, just the space where her knickers were attached. 

“Breathe, darling,” he cooed in her ear. “Listen to Flitwick.”

She blinked rapidly and fixed her eyes on Professor Flitwick. He gave them instructions with their wand, and she obliged. As soon as she moved her wand, two fingers entered her core. She fumbled her charm. The two fingers began moving in and out of her center. She lost complete track of what Flitwick was saying. 

“Eyes open,” he demanded behind her. “Finish the charm.”

She resisted the whimper that rose in the back of her throat. Her wand hand trembled before her as he increased his pacing below. She managed the simple charm this time and exhaled as she lowered her wand. She loosened her tie slightly as her temperature rose. He inserted a third finger, and she nearly moaned. 

“Shh,” he urged behind her. 

She could feel the growing size of his erection against her back. 

“You’re so wet for me,” he whispered against her ear. “Are you always this wet for me in class?”

She nodded.

“And no one knows. You just sit here, wet knickers, thinking of what you want me to do to you.”

She nodded again. He was spinning his fingers faster, and she was nearing the edge.

“Is this every class?”

She nodded. 

“What about the library?”

She was so close.

“Yes.” 

Just a few seconds more.

“Where else do you think about me?”

She was desperate for release. 

“Everywhere,” she panted. 

She was so close and wanted it so badly.

“Who else do you think about?”

“No one. Just you.” 

Suddenly, the scene around them changed entirely. The classroom emptied; the students and professor were gone, and they were the only two left. 

“My turn,” he said as he pulled his fingers from her core. 

She whined at the loss of friction. She’d been right there. 

His hands reached forward and pulled open her blouse. Buttons popped off and scattered along the table and floor. He ran both hands savagely over her breasts as he pulled her against his chest. His mouth traced hot kisses down her neck and over her shoulder as he tore her shirt from her. Her tie hung loosely around her neck between her breasts. She moaned as he continued and leaned her head back against his chest. He reached up his fingers and undid the knot at the base of her throat. The silk slid over her chest as he pulled it loose. 

“Stand.” 

Hermione stood and hid her smirk as her sliced knickers slid off the bench. She felt him kneel and pick them up. They went straight into the pocket of his trousers. She trapped her bottom lip between her teeth again and closed her eyes. 

This must be his fantasy. She wasn’t sure what was happening or what to expect. She didn’t realize they’d move together so seamlessly. 

His fingers clicked open her bra, and he pulled her skirt down to the floor. He gripped her hips and turned her as she stood completely naked in the empty charms classroom. 

Draco Malfoy’s eyes raked over her body like hot coals. They seared into her skin and made her flush. He wanted to devour her. And she wanted him to. She blinked rapidly. This was so realistic. 

“My, my,” he smiled to himself. “How lucky am I?” 

She was practically humming in anticipation. Her body was throbbing at being so close with no release. He stuck his fingers in his mouth and sucked them. He groaned around his own fingers, and Hermione’s stomach tightened. She was starving for him. 

He pushed her back against the table. She hissed as her back touched the cool wooden surface. She sat up on her elbows. Draco took her legs and braced them on the bench. He sat between her legs and grinned up at her as he loosened his tie. Was he going to…?

Before she could finish her thought, he dove forward. His mouth connected with her center, and she cried out. His tongue dragged languidly through her. Her thighs shook from the contact. He moaned against her as if she were the exact flavor he was so ravenous for. 

“Please,” she begged. 

“I’m not rushing this, darling,” he purred against her. “I plan on savoring every last bit of this.” 

She was mesmerized by him. Watching his blonde head bob and weave against her while his fingers pumped alongside his mouth. She had never felt more powerful and attractive than she did at this moment. He was worshipping her body, and she took every minute of pleasure from it. 

He began to work in a rhythm that had her stomach tightening with impending release. His free hand came up and began tugging on her nipples while his other hand and tongue worked in tandem below. The dizzying accuracy with which he circled her pleasure points was inspiring. Just a second more. Almost there. 

She came with a cry. Her leg muscles spasmed as they constricted, but he didn’t stop. The pressure was too much. Her body felt like it was on fire. She reached down, but the hand that was on her nipples captured both her hands and held them against her stomach while he continued. 

She cried out again as a simultaneous orgasm ripped through her. She’d never had two that close together. Her eyes leaked with overwhelmed tears, and her body shook. He withdrew his hand and licked one final time, dragging his tongue slowly over the entire length of her opening. 

She lay panting and spent on the charms table. Her mind slowly tried to catch up to what her body had just experienced. How was that possible? 

“I’ll be thinking about that for a long time,” fantasy Draco said as he dragged his thumb across his lip. 

He stood between her legs and smiled down at her. He leaned over quickly and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. 

Everything around her vanished. 

*

The next day, Hermione was blissfully distracted. She couldn’t get the fantasy out of her head. It was so realistic. She couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t had sex with her in his fantasy. She thought for sure that’s what she could expect. She knew that she wasn’t quite ready for that step yet. But the idea that someone else may have felt the same way intrigued her. 

She sipped her tea at breakfast but couldn’t get the stupid grin off her face. Ron and Harry both eyed her suspiciously, but she ignored them both. Neither of them had become Head Boy, so she didn’t need to worry about them being her mystery serviceman. She looked at Dean Thomas across the table. He was talking animatedly about the quidditch practice from the night before with Ron. She nearly sighed with relief. One possible partner is removed from the list. That left Justin Finch-Fletchley, Anthony Goldstein, and… she paused. Her head rose from her book, and looked toward the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy was seated in the exact spot she was across the room. He looked up from his issue of the Daily Prophet and raised a brow to her. She hurriedly looked down at her book and twisted the teacup between her hands. 

Her guilty pleasure had always been at the hands of that horridly snobbish Slytherin wizard. She couldn’t help herself. His lean figure was taut with muscles and poise. He was perfectly composed in every area, intelligent, and by far the most intimidating wizard in Hogwarts. She daydreamed about his full lips and strong hands. She’d always been attracted to him. But it made it difficult when he acted like a prat. And the fact that Harry had named him his nemesis while at school. Stupid quidditch was the reason. Everyone else from the different houses dated, everyone except Slytherin and Gryffindor. 

She stole another glance and saw him still looking at her. She let her eyes linger for a moment on the tie around his neck. She imagined the silk on her… she blushed. She looked back down at her book and refused to look up again. Whatever stupid fantasy she had experienced last night was exactly that. A fantasy. No truth existed between the two of them. She hurried through the rest of her tea and grabbed her books for Ancient Runes. By the time she arrived, she had banished all thoughts of Draco Malfoy’s magnificent mouth from her mind. She was ready to focus on her studies. 

Harry and Ron hadn’t opted to take this class this year. They’d taken the bare minimum amount of classes, if she was being honest. She wasn’t even sure they were taking enough to pass their N.E.W.T.s for possible Auror work in the future. 

The class began to fill up, and she turned to the chapter they’d been working on a few days ago. A figure came and sat next to her on the bench. She looked over and nearly gasped as Draco Malfoy unpacked his bookbag. 

“Granger,” he said. 

Her mouth hung open as he settled in. 

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting?”

She gaped at him. 

“Here?”

“Granger, we are not in first year anymore. No one saves seats.” 

She clamped her mouth shut. She tried to ignore the way his cologne hung in the space between them. He had the most deliriously intoxicating scent. Sweet and smoky. His hair was still slightly damp from his shower this morning. She had to admit, the prefect bathroom was sublime. But the image of Draco in the showers was heinously distracting. 

She cleared her throat and sat up. She was not some sex-crazed maniac. She would get composure and sit through class like the dignified witch she was. She’d had her fun, and now it was time to focus on her studies. Draco Malfoy be damned. 

The class dragged on. The scent of him. The proximity. It was all too much. Hermione could barely even take coherent notes as Professor Babbling sped through the lecture. 

“My turn,” she kept hearing his low register whisper in her ear. 

Chill bumps covered her arms and legs again at the memory. This was impossible. She had patrol tonight. She wouldn’t have time to reread and take better notes before the quiz tomorrow. She panicked as the class came to a close. She glanced wide-eyed at Draco Malfoy’s perfectly manicured notes. Perhaps she could copy his.

“Malfoy,” she said as she followed him after class. “Malfoy, wait!”

He turned and raised his brow at her.

Godrick, he was so tall. She stood up a little straighter. 

“I had a difficult time following Babbling today,” she said. “I was wondering if you’d let me copy your notes before tomorrow’s exam.”

Draco smirked as he leaned against the wall. 

“Not like you to be distracted, Granger.” 

“I just had other things on my mind this morning,” she stammered. 

“Like what?”

“Charms.”

The word escaped before she could reign herself back. She wanted to explode with embarrassment. Draco sneered in response. 

“Charms?”

“May I please borrow them?” she said, ignoring his questioning glances. 

He reached into his book bag and withdrew the parchment scroll. He held it just out of reach and pulled it away when she grabbed for it. 

“You can come find me tonight,” he said. “You have patrol, too. Right?”

She nodded. 

“Then I’ll see you again this evening.” 

He lowered the parchment into her hands and walked away. 

*

Every class with Draco for the rest of the day produced the same kind of torture. If he wasn’t sitting right next to her, he was sitting behind her. His scent, his voice, they all swirled through her consciousness in an irritating blur of lust. Why did she have to fantasize about someone real? Why couldn’t she fantasize about the prince? Or a book character? Why did it have to be someone in such close proximity? 

In Potions class, she heard him cut open a package of kneazle claws with “diffindo” and broke her quil. 

In Herbology, they were watching a demonstration, and he was so close behind her that she could feel his chest against her back as he leaned over her. 

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, they were partnered together for an exercise, and he told her, “eyes open,” when she attempted to hex him and missed. 

She was losing her bloody mind. She was so wildly unfocused that she wanted to cry. The repressed sexual tension was shaking up inside her and threatening to pop. She was so geared up. And just like she’d promised the night before, her knickers were soaked in every class thinking about him. 

She was almost relieved when classes were done, and she could be alone in the halls. She’d copied over Draco’s notes at dinner, and she was happy to return them and pretend this hellacious day never happened. She had every intention of going right back to Nox tonight and forging ahead with a new fantasy. One that didn’t involve Draco Malfoy and his gloriously talented tongue. She just needed to finish this shift and disappear back to Hogsmeade.

She finally found Draco at the end of her shift. He had just rounded the corner and ran right into her. 

“Draco!” she panicked and grabbed her chest. “You terrified me!” 

“Steady, Granger,” he said, holding her arm. 

She stepped away from the contact and pretended not to notice the way his touch felt so familiar. 

“I’ve got your notes,” she said, reaching into her robes. “Thank you.”

He took the rolled parchment and considered her with a playful smirk. 

“I wish you’d tell me more about what this curly head was daydreaming of.”

He took one of the curls near her face and pulled on it. He watched it spring animatedly back into position as he released it. She brushed his hand away and tried to focus on formulating coherent sentences. 

“I have to go,” she decided. 

He raised a brow. 

“Go where?”

“To bed.” 

She turned on her heel and headed toward the stairs. She wished he would just disappear. She needed to get over him. She needed to move forward and be significantly less distracted tomorrow. A clear head. A new start. 

The real Draco Malfoy was off-limits. He was probably seeing Daphne. Or Pansy. Or one of the other pure-blooded gorgeous witches in that house. 

She glanced over her shoulder and didn’t see him. She hooked a left at the stairs and went right toward the side door of the castle, where she slipped into the night. She transfigured her clothing under her robes to the traditional black dress code of Nox and made her way through the grounds unnoticed. 

The club was open well past midnight, and she entered without an issue. She was given a mask again and sighed against the anonymity of it. Finally, this nonsense about Draco would be over. 

She stepped into the room, put on the mask, and waited as the room was transformed. She looked around and noticed that the room began to take the shape of the Prefects bathroom. Her eyes practically glowed with delight. The long bench in front of the rows of lockers had been turned and sat right in front of the showers now. She sat on the bench and watched as the steam began to settle. 

In the heat of the spray stood Draco Malfoy. 

Hermione cursed and cast her eyes at her feet. She closed her eyes and pushed her fingers against her temple. She didn’t want Draco. She needed someone else. Anyone else. But she couldn’t sit here and watch Draco Malfoy in the shower. 

“Eyes open,” the command came. 

She whimpered. 

Her eyes slowly dragged up from the tiled floor to Draco’s glistening wet body. His legs were thick and muscular from his quidditch playing. His thighs had a sinful taut line where his muscles flexed. She kept her gaze toward the outside of his thighs and wandered up his hips, over his flat abdominals, and toward his face. The water was hitting his neck as he stared into Hermione’s very soul with his piercing gray eyes. 

“I thought about you all day,” he said. 

His strong hand fisted his growing erection. She stole a glance and instantly regretted it. She’d never get the image of him and his cock out of her mind again. She’d never have another fantasy as long as she lived. He had officially ruined her for everyone else. 

“Did you think about me, darling?”

She nodded. 

“Words.”

“Yes,” she whispered. 

She was breathless and not even close enough to touch him. 

“Were you wet in all your classes today?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” 

His hand continued to fist his large cock. The head of his penis stuck through as he rubbed the impressive length of himself. 

“You didn’t come last night,” she said. “You left before you could.”

“I played out my fantasy,” he said. 

Her mind reeled. His fantasy had been her pleasure? It didn’t make sense. Who was this person?

“I came plenty of times. Last night in the shower, and today again in the shower. The image of you spread over the Charms table will never leave my mind.” 

She wondered who he pictured spread across the table. Someone like Daphne Greengrass, probably. She had the most spectacular breasts of anyone their year. It’d be easy to see how someone could fantasize about her. 

But now she was in this position and found herself irritatingly stuck on Draco Malfoy. And her subconscious had planned on tonight being purely about his pleasure since last night had been hers. She watched him continue to stroke himself while she watched patiently from the bench. His eyes loomed over her like storm clouds. They were dark with need. 

“Touch yourself,” he said. 

But she didn’t move. This was her fantasy, and she wanted it to be all him. Instead, she pulled up her skirt, removed her knickers, and shot them toward him. They were red tonight with lace embroidery. He caught them with his free hand and brought them to his nose. He inhaled deeply. She sucked in a breath. 

“Did you wear these all day?”

“Yes.”

He stroked himself even harder as he tossed her knickers toward his pile of clothing. She left her legs open slightly so he could see just beyond her skirt. 

“Let me see those perfect tits,” he said. 

She obliged and began undoing the buttons on her shirt. She left her tie on and revealed a matching red lace bra underneath. He moaned and fisted himself faster. 

“Take it off.” 

She unhooked the bra with one of her hands and let her breasts release. She fought against every instinct within her not to crawl on her hands and knees toward him and take him in her mouth. She wanted to wrap her lips around his thickness. She wanted him to moan while she moved against his velvety, soft skin. 

“Fuck!” 

He convulsed as he came around his hand. His eyes never left hers. She dragged her tongue over her bottom lip and wondered what it would have felt like to have his hot liquid over her mouth. 

“My turn.” 

Fantasy Draco looked lethal with anger. She knew he didn’t like being out of control. He wanted to touch her, and she’d denied him in her fantasy. 

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She reminded herself that the ability of the mask protected her. It wouldn’t put her in a scene where she felt uncomfortable with the acts happening. It still applied to her pleasure. As long as their pleasure remained in sync, her mask would allow her to stay. But at any second, she could leave. 

She cracked open her eyes and saw she was in the Slytherin common room. She looked around at the ornate silver structures that hung against the forest-green backdrop of the tapestries. It wasn’t nearly as dark and dungeon-like as she thought it would be. She began walking in the direction of the boy’s dormitories. She made her way up the winding staircase and found Draco Malfoy sitting on his bed. The other beds that normally would have sat around his were cleared out. 

“Hello, darling,” he crooned. 

Her pulse pounded in her ears. Draco leaned against the bedframe. He wore low-hanging athletic trousers and no shirt. His hair was still wet. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a red bundle—her knickers. 

He approached her and pocketed her knickers again. His hand delicately skimmed the space above her collarbone. Her nipples pebbled beneath his touch. He took her hand in his and gently led her toward the bed. 

He pulled her skirt to the floor and had her step out of it. He took her in his arms and gently placed her in the center of the bed as if she weighed nothing. He took one of his Slytherin ties and gently dragged it over her stomach, breasts, and up her arm. He began to wrap the cool silk around her wrist and secured it to one bedpost. He did the same for her two legs and other arms until her body was completely spread for him on the bed. 

Tonight, she was powerless against him. 

He crawled up the bed and leaned over her on all fours. His nose dragged beneath her ear. He nipped along her neckline and bit her earlobe gently. 

“I don’t like being unable to touch what’s mine,” he warned. 

Her eyes fluttered as he bit down again. 

“So now I’m going to make sure you remember how good my touch can be.” 

A low whine escaped Hermione’s lips as his bite pressure increased. He finally released and moved toward her breasts. His mouth latched around one, and he sucked hard. Hermione’s spine bowed off the mattress, but her restraints held her in place. 

“I wanted your pussy wet with me in the shower,” he said as he turned his attention toward her other breast. 

She mewed against him as his hand twisted into her hair. His tongue shoved past her lips and into her mouth, where she hungrily met him with her tongue. Together, they danced and glided against each other, starved for closeness. 

“You’re mine,” he growled. “Your body. Your pleasure. Do you understand?”

She groaned against him as his other hand moved between her legs. 

“Your pleasure is mine,” he said against her mouth. “Every orgasm you have belongs to me. This pussy belongs to me.” 

He pressed his thumb against her clitoris and spun circles around it. She whimpered against his mouth, but he didn’t stop. 

“Yours,” she panted, begging for a release. 

It was building so quickly. Watching him in the shower and now experiencing this erotic dominance was nearly her undoing. Her senses were in overdrive. But he was unrelenting. He brought an orgasm forward in record time, and she crashed against him. She cried out as he rode out the orgasm with his hand. His mouth swallowed her cries. 

“Another,” he growled.

His fingers increased speed and force as they pumped into her. She tried to buck against him, but it was no use. She was trapped. The sensation was overwhelming. He moved his mouth away from hers, and she felt his tongue sweep inside her center. She wanted to grab his feather-soft hair and yank him off of her so she could breathe, but she was powerless. 

“Please,” she begged him. “I’m yours. Please. I’m yours!” 

“What’s mine?”

His fingers and mouth worked aggressively against her, bringing her toward the brink of another soul-altering orgasm. 

“Me! All of me. Everything. Please!”

He hummed against her clit, and she came with a vengeance. It was more powerful than any orgasm she’d had before. She saw stars behind her closed eyes as she shook violently beneath him. 

He withdrew and kissed and licked his way over every sensitive nerve ending on her body. He flicked his wand, and her restraints vanished. He lay beside her, and she curled his body into his. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispered as he smoothed her hair down. “So beautiful, darling.”

He leaned forward and pressed a slow-burning kiss to her mouth. He tasted like spearmint and her. 

“Come to me tomorrow night,” he whispered. “I haven’t had my fill of you yet.” 

She nodded against him. She knew that she couldn’t stay away. She was his now. Whoever he was. 

*

Hermione was horrifically late to Ancient Runes the next morning. She stood in the shower for what seemed like eons. She couldn’t bring herself to leave. The memory of fake Draco the night before played in a haunting loop through her mind. She’d started a dangerous addiction. She knew that she couldn’t afford to be this distracted again in class. She had to find a way to separate the fantasy life she was living from her reality. Her reality was that she couldn’t afford to slip in school. She had a meticulously planned five-year plan. And she wasn’t willing to sacrifice any of it. She had to get her lust-fogged brain under control. 

She slid into Ancient Runes and noticed a seat open next to her blonde-headed fantasy source. She desperately wanted to sit elsewhere, but being so late meant no other seats were available. She relented and slid in next to Draco. He kept his face forward, but a smirk played at the corner of his mouth. 

“Your exam today will be a partner exam,” Babbling said. “You’ll employ the use of your partner and break down several of the ancient symbols before you. I hope you’ve chosen someone who takes meticulous care with their notes. This exam will cover content from the beginning of the term.” 

Hermione opened her book bag to find her newest notes missing. She swore to herself. They were still on her desk in the dormitory where she copied them last night. She pulled out her other notes and organized them between them. Draco placed his orderly stack next to hers. 

“I… erm,” she whispered. “I forgot yesterday’s notes in the dorms.”

Draco grinned. 

“Still distracted, Granger?”

She gave him an indignant look. But he reached forward with his hand and pulled at one of her curls again. He watched as the coil sprang from her chin to her brow and settled somewhere between. She huffed and tucked the strand behind her ear. She needed to pass this exam, not flirt with this nuisance. 

He pulled out a small tin from his pocket. She looked at his lap and saw him removing a few dragon mints. He held the tin toward her. They were spearmint flavored. She cursed her active imagination. Of course, her fantasy would allow her to taste the way he actually tasted. The magic utilized in that club was far beyond anything she could ever comprehend. She was apparently a glutton for punishment, though. So she gingerly took the spearmint into her mouth and sucked. 

“Helps me concentrate,” he said. 

Oh, she was concentrating too. But not on Ancient Runes. He was so close to her. They received one exam and shared their names at the top. He scrawled over the parchment in perfectly blocked letters. He moved even closer as she opened one of her notes from the start of term. He read over her shoulder. She was aware her hair must be assaulting his face and reached up to pull it over her opposite shoulder. His hand caught her wrist as she went to move it. 

“Stop,” he said. “I like it.” 

She had forgotten how to swallow. 

She let her hand drop, and her curls shifted back. She swore she felt him inhale deeply as she thumbed through more notes. His thigh was now touching hers. He was so close. She remembered the look of it from the shower last night. The deep crease from his muscles, the way water rippled down his powerful calves. She closed her eyes and attempted to banish the thoughts from her mind. She was at school. She needed to focus. 

The hour dragged by at a snail’s pace. She was in a cologne-induced coma near the end of it. She was so tense. Being this close to the real Draco was torture. Her fantasies were excruciatingly accurate. His scent, his touch, his voice, all of them were perfect replicas. By the time class was over, her body was humming with energy. She needed a cold shower. Or a jump in the lake. Maybe whatever creature rested within would eat her and be done with it. 

“Hermione, wait.”

Her head snapped around as Draco called her by her first name. He was jogging after her and reaching into his book bag. 

“You weren’t at breakfast,” he said and held out a green apple. 

Her mind came to a screeching halt as she looked at the apple in his hand. 

“I didn’t hex it,” he sighed. 

“I know. Thank you.”

She took the apple and brought it to her lips. He watched her take a bite. His eyes clouded over the same way they had last night in the shower. No, she caught herself. Not the same way. Because it couldn’t be the same. That was fake Draco. Real Draco didn’t make her orgasm last night. That was just a fantasy. 

She continued walking toward the Herbology shed. It was raining this morning, and the cobblestone pathway was slick, so she couldn’t escape him quickly. 

“You’re never late,” he said as they continued. 

She was going to tell him that she woke up late, but when she turned toward him, her boot slipped. He reacted with impeccable speed and caught her around the waist. Crimson embarrassment bloomed along her neck and cheeks. 

“Alright?” he asked.

All she could do was nod as he steadied her. He kept an arm around her waist as they continued walking. 

Going to Nox had been a horrific idea. What was she thinking? Draco had always been a handsome face to look at before, but it had metastasized into a much bigger issue now that she’d fantasized about him there. It gave too much realism to her secret life. How were Hannah and Padma able to focus in school? Unless… well, there was a chance that they weren’t thinking of a classmate at all during their times down there. They could be thinking about anyone. Especially someone they didn’t interact with on a regular basis. 

“Are you coming to the quidditch game tomorrow?” he asked. 

“Of course,” she said. “Big rivalry game, right?”

“I didn’t think you played into house rivalries,” he said.

She took another bite.

“I don’t,” she shrugged. “I think our houses were set for sleeping arrangements. People put too much emphasis on the other aspects.” 

“Like what?”

“Not all purebloods are in Slytherin,” she pointed out, though that seemed to be a common theme among the house. “And I personally think Godrick Griffyndor was a prat.” 

Draco laughed. 

“He was.” 

“So I don’t understand why people place their entire identities on a silly house,” she continued. “We’re still one school. And at the end of the day, we should have pride for attending the school. Not hate other houses within it.” 

“So you’re not afraid of Slytherins?”

They’d stopped walking. The breeze blew some of Hermione’s hair over her face, and he moved the strands away as she raised the apple to her mouth again. 

“No,” she answered. 

“Good,” he said. 

He took her wrist in his hand and raised the apple to his own mouth. He took a large chunk out of it, and the juices of it dripped down her wrist. She watched in fascination as his jawline worked. 

“I hope you’ll cheer for me tomorrow then,” he said. “Prove your support of inter-house camaraderie.” 

He winked, leaving her speechless as he ushered her into Sprout’s class.

*

She paced the room while she waited for him. The floor shimmered around her as the fantasy began to settle. They were in the library. Draco Malfoy’s expensive dragonhide boots clicked against the tiles as he stalked toward her. She felt herself sigh in relief. She needed this. 

“Where do you want me?” he asked. 

She hesitated. 

Why was he asking her? Normally he just took control. That was her fantasy. She didn’t want to have to map everything out. She gave him a strange look. 

“Come on, lovely,” he beckoned her. 

Lovely? He didn’t call her lovely. He called her darling. She froze, rooted in her spot. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t her same partner she’d had the last two nights. This was someone else. Panic tightened around her. She took a step back.

“Oh, you want to chase, pet?”

Pet? Alarms sounded throughout her head. Fantasy Draco’s face morphed into something she didn’t recognize. It was predatory. 

“No,” she said. “I’m done. I want out.” 

She reached up for her mask and yanked it off, and the fantasy fell away. She was alone in the room. She transfigured out of her black dress into a pair of jeans and tossed the mask on the floor. She couldn’t do it. Not if it wasn’t with him. Whoever him was. 

She pulled her cloak around her as she left Nox and headed back toward the castle. It was a stupid idea to think that she could keep the same anonymous partner. She couldn’t cheat the system. They weren’t supposed to even know when it was a different partner. But she did. She knew it was the same one two nights in a row. He referenced the previous night in their second session together. 

“Hermione?” 

She stopped as a breathless shadow came jogging toward her. Draco. 

“What are you doing?” she asked. 

Draco ran his hands through his hair. He was breathless and flustered. 

“Sorry,” she interrupted. “It’s not my business. You should go. Your date is probably waiting.”

Hermione went to walk around him, but his hand caught her wrist. 

“Would you like to get a drink with me?”

She wasn’t expecting that response. 

“You’re not…”

“No! I was looking for you.” 

She bit her bottom lip. She was so frustrated by Nox that she just wanted to go to bed. But the real Draco was standing in front of her, asking her to have a drink with him. This was real. This wasn’t some fantasy. She nodded. He exhaled in relief and looped her arm through his. 

“It’s bloody frigid tonight,” he said. 

She had to admit that his body was helping block the cold extremely well, especially from the wind. He untangled his scarf from around his neck and draped the green and silver hues around hers. She was enveloped in his scent and sighed against it. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

He led them back into Hogsmeade and toward the Hog’s Head. The warm tavern gave them an instant reprieve from the biting wind. But that didn’t stop Draco from standing behind her and rubbing his hands up and down her arms to warm her up. 

“Table over there,” he pointed. “I’ll go get some drinks.”

“I’ll take firewhisky,” she said. 

He turned in surprise and appraised her with an impressed smirk. She didn’t want the heaviness of a butterbeer tonight. She needed the sting of whisky. She shrugged off the cloak and scarf and began the impossible task of wrestling her hair up into a bun on the top of her head. The wind had ruined what little hope she had at seeing curls that behaved. 

Draco returned with the drinks and slid one toward her. He took the other and clinked their glasses together before taking a sip. She took the glass in her hands and took more than just a sip of the icy burn. 

“That’s my girl,” Draco smiled. 

Hermione’s stomach flipped.

“I thought you were with Daphne,” she blurted out. 

“Godrick, no,” he laughed. “She’s been with Blaise since summer.”

“Pansy?”

He shook his head. 

“Afraid I’ve got the wrong parts for Pansy.”

Her mouth formed an O as she nodded her head. This was all news to her. However, she didn’t boast on staying up to date on all the relational gossip around school. 

“I’m right where I want to be,” he said. 

A shiver rolled down her spine. 

Hermione’s mind circled around Draco. He’d been running toward Hogsmeade when she met him. Her usual Nox partner wasn’t there tonight. She stopped herself. She couldn’t let herself believe or hope for even a second that her mysterious Nox partner could be Draco Malfoy. She couldn’t. Because that would mean that the man who gave her the most powerful orgasm on this planet was seated across from her right now, telling her that he was right where he wanted to be. She couldn’t let her fantasy world and reality world begin to blend together. It was dangerous enough living out her fantasies at Nox. 

“What were you doing in Hogsmeade tonight?” 

Draco’s question made her freeze. 

How could she possibly lie to him? He’d know. She took a drink instead. She let the amber liquid burn all the way down as it settled in her empty stomach. She’d skipped dinner tonight. 

She twisted the glass in her hands. She could feel Draco’s penetrating look but refused to meet his gaze.

“Don’t lie to me, darling.” 

Her eyes snapped up. The dark look had returned across his brows. 

“Did you go without me?” 

She swallowed.

“Did he touch you like I do?”

No…it couldn’t be…

“I told you that you were mine,” he whispered. 

She pushed away from the table. She grabbed her cloak and wrapped it around her. She rushed from the Hog’s Head. He knew. But how? 

The sting of the cold made Hermione gasp. She’d left his scarf on the chair, and her hair wasn’t offering the protection it had earlier now that it was piled on top of her head. But Draco was right behind her. His arm gripped her bicep and pushed her against the side of the building. He wrapped his scarf around her neck as he glared down at her. His jaw was set in a rigid line, and unhappiness masked all of his features. 

She went to pull away from him, but he pushed her back against the wall. 

“Did I not make myself clear when I told you that you were mine?”

“You weren’t there,” she argued and shoved his chest. 

The amber liquid of earlier emboldened her. 

“But that didn’t stop you from getting an orgasm from another, did it?” 

He reached into the pocket of his trousers and retrieved something red. Her face flushed. Her knickers from last night. 

“You promised me that you were mine,” he growled. 

“Why do you care?” she snapped. “You probably have been with dozens of mysterious women in Nox. Why do you care who I am with?”

“I have made two appearances in Nox,” he argued. “And they’ve only been with you. The only reason I started going was because I heard Abbot and Patil talking about how they finally convinced you to go.” 

Hermione’s head snapped back as if she’d been slapped. 

“What?”

“The first time I went to Nox was two nights ago. I paid the woman to partner me with you.” 

“You can’t do that!”

“I can do anything I want. I’m Draco Fucking Malfoy.” 

“It’s supposed to be anonymous!”

“Everyone has a price. And I’ll pay to find out who dared to fuck you tonight.” 

Panic overwhelmed her. 

“No! Nothing happened!”

He went still. 

“I left. I knew it wasn’t you. He called me pet. And I panicked. I left. He never even touched me.” 

Draco released a sigh of relief and touched his forehead to hers. He was practically shaking. 

“Where were you?” he asked. “Where were you waiting for me?”

“The library,” she whispered. 

Draco grabbed her around the waist and apparated them closer to the school. 

“We can’t-” 

She tried to argue, but he took her hand and kept walking. He led her through the halls of the quiet school and up toward the library. 

“Draco,” she said, but he ignored her and continued pulling her on. 

They rounded the corner and came face-to-face with Daphne, the Head Girl on duty for that floor. 

“Not a word, Greengrass,” he muttered as he pulled Hermione past her. 

Hermione looked over her shoulder and saw Daphne offer a wink before turning around. Draco burst into the closed library. He spun Hermione toward him and vanished her cloak and scarf with his wand. She was breathless as he stalked toward her. He reached for the band in her hair and tugged it, letting her wild curls fall loosely down her back. 

“The library fantasy belongs to me,” he said. “And I’m taking it.” 

Hermione reeled from the overload of information pouring forth. Fantasy Draco and real Draco were the same person. She didn’t know if she should be relieved or terrified. He knew she fantasized about him. He knew that he was the one she really desired. She was mortified. It was supposed to be a secret. It was supposed to be just for her pleasure. 

He pointed his wand at her. 

“Diffindo.” 

Her clothing pooled on the floor in a torn heap. She stood in her bra and knickers. They were emerald green tonight. 

A dark laugh sounded from deep within his chest. 

“Are these for me?” he asked, skimming his fingertips over the band of her knickers and the top of her bra.

“Yes.”

She knew. Somewhere deep within her subconscious, she knew it was him all along from his first comment on their first night at Nox. She knew it was really him. She was just so terrified of what it actually meant. 

He pushed lightly on her hips until she was up against the bookshelf. 

“I’ve dreamed of taking you against these shelves for years,” he panted. 

He slowly began undoing the buttons of his shirt. The shirt fell to the floor. She launched herself at him, unable to wait. He caught her, and she wrapped her legs around his midsection. She threaded her hands through his hair and let the soft blond strands tangle in her fingers. She pulled his head toward her mouth, and he engulfed her. 

This was real. She was kissing the real Draco Malfoy right now. She shook with realization. How was this possible? He gripped her ass tightly and kneaded it while he kissed her passionately. She moaned against him as his tongue flicked against hers. He tasted like spearmint and whisky. She broke away from his mouth and nipped and sucked along his jaw and neck. She let her teeth sink into his throat and sucked hard, marking him as hers. 

“Fuck, Granger,” he groaned. 

She felt his hardening length press into her core through his trousers. 

“You’re mine,” she said between bites and kisses. 

“Yes,” he moaned. “All yours.” 

She slid down his body and landed back on the floor. She reached for his belt and pulled his trousers loose. They slid to the floor, and he kicked off his boots and his tight-fitting boxer briefs. 

She sank to her knees and took his impressive length into her mouth before he could stop her. He let out a strangled roar as her mouth closed over him. She smiled to herself as she brought her hand up to help cover the rest of his length. She began pumping him with her hand while her head bobbed up and down. 

“Fuck, Granger,” he stumbled over each word. 

She increased the pressure and speed, remembering how he handled himself last night. She looked up and watched his abs tighten. Her gaze went higher, and she watched in fascination as he leaned his head against his forearm on the bookshelf above. She was getting closer. She could tell by his labored breathing. 

“No,” he said. 

His eyes snapped open. He pulled under her arms and lifted her up. He ripped her knickers down her legs and lifted her to the bookshelf.

“Tonight, I come where I belong,” he said. 

He didn’t give her a second to brace for his impressive length. He pushed inside of her. The pressure was overwhelming and tight. She panted out a small cough, but he kept going. Slow and languid strokes as he impaled her with his intimidating length. Once he was as far as he could go, he would still, letting his full presence overtake her senses. She wrapped her legs around his waist. 

“That’s it, darling,” he said. “Take all of me.” 

He threaded his hands through her hair and roughly kissed her on the mouth as he fucked her against the shelves. The heat was building in her core. She was getting close. He was so deep inside of her. 

“Tell me again,” he grunted. “Tell me again that you didn’t let him touch you.”

“He didn’t,” she pleaded. “I promise. I left as soon as I knew it wasn’t you.” 

His hand shifted behind her neck. His piercing stare forced itself into her soul. She was his, completely and hopelessly his. She would give everything to Draco Malfoy. And he knew it. 

She came with a shuddering force. He joined her a moment later. One hand stayed on her neck, and the other was on her hip as he claimed her body. 

“No more Nox without me,” he said as he kissed her sweetly. 

“I promise,” she whispered. 

Her legs hung limply around his hips and twitched from the force of her orgasm. 

He kissed her head, her cheeks, and her lips. 

“I’m yours,” she said. “Just yours.”

*

Hermione opted for a later breakfast the following day. She didn’t want to see Harry and Ron before the game. She knew she’d be wearing Draco’s scarf and didn’t want to upset them right before the match. To avoid even more hurt feelings she chose to watch the game with Padma and Luna in the Ravenclaw section. She considered it neutral ground. She watched as both teams took to their brooms. Draco was looking around the stands for Hermione. His broom was angled toward the Gryffindor section. She smirked to herself as his brow furrowed. 

“I like your new colors,” Padma commented as she nudged her. 

Hermione smiled. 

“I hope that’s Draco’s,” Luna commented. “He’s been mad about you for years.” 

Hermione snorted in disbelief, but both of them nodded.

“It’s obvious, Hermione,” Padma said. “Why do you think I mentioned where you went a few days ago in front of him? Someone had to spur you two on.” 

Hermione’s mouth hung open. 

“Padma!”

She winked. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Hermione’s eyes caught movement above her. Draco had spotted her and flown his broom right toward her. 

“Nice scarf, Granger,” he called from his broom. 

“I found it in the library,” she called back. 

“Lucky girl,” he winked. 

She bit the inside of her cheek and tried to hide the way her stomach flipped. The whistle sounded, and he was off in a streak of green. The game was close. Both teams were taking a beating from the bludgers as the beaters ruthlessly targeted one another. One nearly hit Ron in the face, but he dodged it at the last minute. It was much harder to watch the seekers in the game than the rest of the players. They tended to play much higher than the others. They moved so quickly and frequently that it was hard to keep tabs on them. But she’d never seen Draco play like this before. He was everywhere. At one point, he even intercepted a quaffle from one of the other players and handed it off to Zabini for another point. He was incredible. In the end, he and Harry were on a mad dash to the bottom of the pitch, where they’d both spotted the snitch. Draco’s long arms gave him the advantage as his fingers wrapped around the snitch. The crowd erupted with cheers as Draco held up the snitch, signaling the end of the match. 

Hermione, Luna, and Padma made their way down to the pitch to congratulate the players on a stunning match. Hermione saw Harry and Ron first. 

“Good match, boys,” she said, offering both of them a hug. 

They mumbled their thanks, but Ron withdrew quickly. 

“What the fuck is that, Hermione?”

Harry’s eyes went to the scarf too. 

“Whose bloody scarf is that?” Ron asked. 

“Mine.” 

They turned as Draco Malfoy walked toward them. She didn’t know how he could look even taller in his quidditch robes, but he did. The black, silver, and emerald tones played against the pale color of his hair so well. It made him look almost lethal. Hermione smiled as she pushed through the crowd to greet him. He pushed his gloved hands against her cheeks and pulled her face toward his. He kissed her passionately enough for her to feel dizzy after. 

“Fifth floor,” he whispered against her ear. “Meet me there.”

Her body hummed in anticipation. The prefects’ bathroom. 

He kissed her softly one last time on the lips before releasing her. He winked before he walked back toward his team. 

“When the fuck did that start?” Ron asked. 

Hermione ignored him as she smiled to herself. 

“I have to go, sorry.”

Ron and Harry exchanged incredulous glances. 

“We’ll catch up later,” she said. “Good game today!”

She pushed her way through the crowd and headed back toward the castle. She practically sprinted up all five flights of stairs. But somehow, Draco had still beaten her there. 

He was shirtless, but his quidditch trousers were hanging low on his hips. Hermione practically salivated at the look of him. 

“Hermione,” he said as he approached her. “Come to congratulate the victor?”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. 

“That’s too bad,” he grinned. “I plan on worshiping you instead.” 

She let out a nervous giggle. 

“Now come here,” he said. “Let me have my fill of you.”