Chapter Text
Chapter 1: The Snake Pit
Hermione Granger studied her reflection in the smudged and stickered mirror of the club bathroom, while her friend Amanda took a wee in the stall. Amanda was a Muggle Hermione had met while doing her rotation of Muggle Medicine in Medical School. It was a newer concept in the Wizarding World, to witness and participate in Muggle Medicine, but Hermione agreed with the logic. It was important to understand how medicine and healing worked in both worlds, and that surely wisdom and knowledge could be found in both. She reapplied her dark purple lipstick, unable to keep a smirk creeping onto her lips. She looked good. If the Wizarding World could see the Golden Girl now. Her curls were tamed into a low mussy bun with a few escaped curls framing her face. Her outfit was definitely more daring than her typical attire, but she had been so excited to wear it. She wore a ghostly white corset, extra sheer white fabric swirled around her breasts and wrapped around her waist framing her as a seductive Grecian Goddess. The corset snatched her waist in, pushed her breasts up, and disappeared into a short black leather mini skirt. Delicate fishnet stockings whispered over her legs and finished off with a black lace up combat boot. She accessorized with black elbow length velvet gloves, and a black lace choker at her neck.
Amanda exited the stall to wash her hands, and a goofy grin spread across her face as she caught Hermione checking herself out in the mirror. “I know I said this already, but you look fucking hot tonight, Hermione!”
Hermione blushed, waving her off. “I feel ridiculous.” Though her smile gave her away.
“Oh come off it!” Amanda chided reapplying her own lipstick in the mirror.
“The gloves are too much.” Hermione shook her head adjusting the tops of the velvet gloves.
“Don’t you dare! The gloves are perfect, and they completely finish the look!” Amanda insisted on putting away her lipstick and fluffing out her auburn curls.
“Now stop your whining, and let’s get out there and dance for goodness sake!” Amanda spun Hermione by her shoulders and trotted them back out into the club.
It had been awhile since she’d been out dancing, but it had been a long fucking month at the hospital. She needed this. She had a patient die this week on her, and so she needed to just turn her brain off. Forget about all the pain and loss she dealt with on a daily basis. Forget about the broken bodies beneath her hands, and focus on her own body for once. And if she was honest with herself, to find her body under someone else’s hands tonight.
At 28, Hermione Granger was a Fellow in the ICU of St. Mungo’s. She had survived her grueling resident years, but had soon realized the Fellowship would be harder. Overnight she was the boss. She was the one who needed to know the answers, make the tough calls. It was what she had wanted for so long. But that level of responsibility had taken it’s toll. She needed to lose herself tonight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione leaned over the bar, “Gin and Tonic.” She yelled to the bartender over the beating bass of the music.
As she was placing her credit card down, a pale, veined hand came down on her hand to stop her. A silver ring on the pointer finger twisted around in the shape of a serpent. Her stomach plummeted as she simultaneously placed the ring, and the cold voice spoke over her right shoulder. A voice she would never, ever be able to forget.
“This one’s on me, Mike. I’d say I probably owe you one, Granger.”
Her breath caught in her chest at the sound of her name by that all too cruel voice. The bartender nodded to the newcomer and said, “Of course, sir.” and set down a glass of Firewhiskey next to hers. She straightened her spine and lifted her chin as she turned to him. “Malfoy.”
His lips quirked to that cruel smile she knew all too well. She took in his appearance; he had changed so much, and yet not at all. His platinum hair was slightly sleeked back on the sides, as it had been in their last few years of school. He was taller, nearly 6’5, and his shoulders were broader. He seemed to tower over her, even though he leaned casually up against the bar on one elbow. She could tell his body was honed and deadly under his perfectly tailored all black suit. His black shirt unbuttoned the first few buttons, revealing his black Azkaban tattoo swirling up the right side of his neck, and disappearing down his chest under his shirt. He hadn’t been in Azkaban long, about three months awaiting trial, but long enough to mark him. She noticed a few snakes added to accentuate the tattoo- bloody, of course. Even though he was smiling at her, he seemed darker- more dangerous. He looked- good. Fuck he looked good.
His eyes were narrowed on her, but not in their usual disgust. He looked- amused? That unsettled her more.
“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” She demanded coldly.
“Me? This is my natural habitat; dark, posh, nightclub where debauchery abounds.” He gestured to the club around them with his Firewhiskey Glass. He wasn’t wrong. He blended in perfectly as though he was, indeed, the bloody fucking poster child of the club. His eyes found hers again, “You however, Granger,” he paused letting his eyes openly roam down her body. Her cheeks heated, she told herself with the same disdain she normally regarded him with. Not because he was studing her like he wanted to unwrap her like a Christmas present- definitely not. She crossed her arms as though that would protect her from his relentless gaze.
He took a step towards her pushing off the bar. Her instinct was to back away from him, but she refused to let herself. She would not be intimidated by him. She was no longer a school girl for him to unnerve. He stopped before her, only inches away now, looking down his nose at her. “I thought I must have died and gone to hell, to see the Golden Girl in my club dressed like that.”
His words raked over her skin gesturing down to her outfit, his eyes once again roaming down her body.
She scoffed. “You own this club?”
That infuriating smirk returned. “Don’t tell me the brightest witch of our generation has lost her touch? The name should speak for itself, surely.”
Hermione’s heart sank. “‘The Snake Pit’. Bullocks, you Purebloods aren’t very subtle are you?”
Malfoy laughed, and the sound unsettled her. It was not his typical sneering laugh. It was hearty and sounded true. “Haven’t lost that biting charm, I see.”
Hermione took a drink of her gin and tonic, unsure how to respond. It almost sounded like a compliment. She studied the drink then. She’d been to this club several times before, and had never had any issues. But now knowing Malfoy owned it, and had purchased this drink from the bartender HE employed, she suddenly wasn’t so sure. She realized Malfoy was watching her closely.
“So what’s it going to be, Granger? Are you going to run for the hills clutching your pearls now you know this place is mine?” He taunted darkly.
Hermione glared at him with fire in her eyes- his smirk deepened. Just then, she spotted her friends dancing and waving her over to them. They had lasso’d a group of guys with them, and were not so subtly raising their eyebrows at her. Hermione’s resolve was set; she was about to have a great fucking time in this Pureblood’s lair. She found Malfoy’s eyes again, and matched his smirk.
“Thanks for the drink, Malfoy.” She tossed the gin and tonic back in one gulp, and set the glass down on the bar and moved to pass him and rejoin her friends.
Faster than she thought possible, he had turned, gripped her arm, just at the top of the velvet glove, and lowered his lips to her ear. “Have fun, Little Lion.” Her heart galloped in her chest, and as she turned to rip her arm from his grasp and shove him off, but he was already gone.
She scanned the crowd, and then saw his back moving towards a sectioned off VIP area. He seemed farther away than he naturally should have been, but she was tipsy, and the lights were flashing intensely. She took a steadying breath and moved to rejoin her friends. Her friends introduced her to Miguel, a tall, dark handsome guy with curly hair, His eyes were hungry taking Hermione in, and she let him put his hand on her hip pulling her closer.
The music thrummed in her blood, her head buzzing with that last gin and tonic. It had definitely been a stronger pour than her previous drinks at the bar, but she was still completely lucid. She wondered if they had given her a more expensive gin, as it was on “Mr. Malfoy’s” tab. She rolled her eyes to herself. Migel’s hands felt good on her body, and he moved them with ease. He tried to talk to her, but she could not understand through the blaring music, and his accent. She just nodded and smiled.
As their bodies swayed, Hermione’s neck prickled. She felt eyes upon her. She turned in Miguel’s arm’s, pressing her back to his chest, as her eyes scanned the crowd. Her eyes settled upon the piercing blue eyes watching her across the room.
Malfoy sat in the crowded VIP section, on a black leather chair, his right ankle crossed over his left knee. He appeared relaxed, with his elbow on the arm of the chair, his fingers over his mouth and chin, contemplative, His other hand casually rested a firewhiskey on the other armrest. He sat in darkness but was occasionally illuminated by the flash of light. A king on his dark throne- fucking prat. Bodies snaked around him, beautiful people enjoying the perks of the section. She thought she may have recognized Theodore Nott among the throng, but she found it difficult to tear her eyes from Malfoy’s. As it appeared to be difficult for him as well. Malfoy could have been participating in the debauchery and revelry, but instead he sat there- watching her.
Hermione suddenly felt possessed by an unfamiliar desire. Her arm snaked around Miguel’s neck, her fingers gripping his hair pulling his face down to her neck, her eyes never leaving Malfoy’s. She felt Migel’s lips on her neck, and his hands tightened on her hips. She swore she saw Malfoy stiffen. Miguel was murmuring into her skin as his lips roamed over her throat, his hands moving freely as well. She felt his hand slide down her thigh and pull her closer. Hermione grind her ass gently into Miguel’s front, and he groaned in her ear. A shiver ran down her spine at the sight of Malfoy’s hand tightening around his glass.
He did not move- she wasn’t sure if he was breathing. He sat frozen on his throne, watching them. Hermione wasn’t sure how much time had passed. One song? Three? She had lost herself to the music, the warmth of Migel, and the intoxicating feeling of having Malfoy’s eyes on her. Her heart pounded in her head in rhythm to the music. A new rush of inspiration came over her, and her eyes narrowed slightly on Malfoy’s before she turned in Miguel’s arms. She pulled Migel’s head down towards her to kiss him.
Just before their lips met, Hermione stumbled slightly, as Miguel was shoved off her forcefully. In a blur of movement, Malfoy was suddenly before her, his back to her, facing a confused Migel. Had he apparated in front of all these Muggles? Was he mad??
“Malfoy!” She exclaimed.
He turned to her, his eyes wild and a searing blue. They seemed to burn unnaturally blue. It must be a reflection of one of the strobing lights, she rationalized to herself. Before she could berate him further, he gripped one of her wrists pulling her to him. His lips crashed into hers, claiming her in front of the throng of people. Every thought escaped her mind at the feel of his cold lips against hers. The music blared in her ears, as Malfoy forced her mouth open to him.
She should be fighting him. She should be pushing him off her and slapping him. She should be disgusted by him. But hadn’t she been silently urging him to do this all night? Her body casting a spell over him, using poor Miguel as a pawn in this game she had felt spark between her and Malfoy. She felt his hand come to the back of her head as his other hand found her hip, holding her in place.
She felt the world tilt around her, the club fading, and suddenly her back was slamming against a wood wall. They were no longer in the club. They were in a dark bedroom; it appeared to be a hotel room; a nice one at that. She ground her front into Malfoy’s groin, already feeling him firm against her. He groaned against her lips. Malfoy gripped her hair harder, pulling her head to the side exposing her neck to him as his lips traveled down her jaw and to the skin of her neck.
“Bloody hell, Granger. Are you trying to torment me?” He growled against her skin, pushing her hips against the wall firmly with his other hand.
“You deserve torment.” Hermione gritted through her teeth.
She felt him chuckle against her chest. His lips now on her chest close to the valley of her breast. Her body burned, feeling her core turn molten. “The brightest witch strikes again.”
His lips traveled back up her chest, shoulder, and up her neck to her ear. He peeled off her velvet gloves, one at a time, She trembled the feel of his breath warming her ear and he pressed his pelvis into hers hard. Her now free hands grabbed at his shoulders. A soft moan escaped her. One hand still gripping the back of her hair tightly, still tilting her head to open her neck to him. She felt his other fingers slip in between her choker and her neck.
“I’ll gladly take any punishment you want to give me, Granger.” He murmured darkly into her ear. With that he pulled her choker forcefully, breaking the cheap chain clasp. Hermione gasped at the short choking as the necklace fell away, so did her resolve.
She fisted his shirt in her hands pulling his lips back to hers. She kissed him ravenously pushing her body off the wall and onto his. His hand dropped from her neck to grip her ass riding up her leather skirt. Their lips moved furiously against one another, like they couldn’t get enough. Hermione felt Malfoy move her through the room, turning her body, until she felt the back of her legs bump into a low, platform bed. He pushed her down so she sat on the edge of the bed and moved to his knees wedging himself in between her legs, never taking his lips off of hers.
Hermone ripped the buttons of his shirt open, her hands roaming down his neck, gripping his collar bone. Just then his hands pulled the zipper at the back of her corset down, the fabric dropping into her lap, baring her breasts to him. Her nipples peaked to the cold air and the roughness of Malfoy’s fingertips as he palmed them ravenously. He still kissed her fiercely, his hands kneading her breasts, and Hermione tugged on the ends of his hair on the back of his head where it met his neck. He groaned against her lips again.
His hand gripped her jaw tilting her head to the side, as his lips roamed down the other side of her neck. She felt his tongue over her pulse point. “You smell so fucking good.” His voice growled almost to himself. “I bet you taste as good as you smell.”
Hermione gasped, and felt her cunt clench at his words. As though he knew, his hand dropped in between her legs and pressed against her panties. “Fuck Granger, you are soaked.”
Malfoy dragged his nose back up her neck to her ear. “Can I taste you, Granger?”
She whimpered at his words, nodding. She felt him chuckle and removed his hand from her cunt, and she ached at the loss of his pressure. He sat back on his haunches removing his black shirt, His pale eyes never left hers.
She liked the look of Draco Malfoy on his knees before her. It was certainly a sight she never thought she would see. She took the moment to study his tattoos. He had many of them, covering his arms and chest. The black ink of a snake swirled down from his neck, twisting and coiling over his pectoral muscle, and down the ripple of his ab muscles, the tip of the tail dipping down into his trousers. Hermione’s mind filled in the blank that the tip of the tail ended just at the V of his groin. Her mouth watered at the thought. Her breath hitched at the sight of his Dark Mark on his inner forearm. She decided to ignore that for the moment.
He removed her boots forcefully, tossing them aside. Her heart pounded in her chest as his hands moved up her thighs, under her skirt, and gripped the top of her stockings and panties in his fingers. He torturously dragged her stockings and undergarments down her trembling legs. Once he had tossed them aside, his fingers moved to the front zipper of her skirt. Her breath caught has he tugged the zipper down. The skirt flapped open, falling to either side of her, exposing her finally to him. He moved the skirt out from underneath her. She was before him completely naked.
His eyes darkened as they beheld her naked before him. His hands moved to each knee and pushed them open to him. She thought she was going to pass out at the rush of air over her aching sex, under the devouring gaze of Draco Malfoy. He scooched forward, his hand moving up her thighs to open her wider for him. His head lowering to ghost his lips over her cunt.
“Malfoy, please.” She found herself gasping he head falling back. Her arms back supporting herself up.
On command, he pressed his lips against hers, and sucked her clit hard. She sobbed at the sweet pain she felt between her legs. His lips and tongue moved against her hungrily and she gripped his platinum hair, trying to pull him closer. His hands moved under her ass to hold her up to his mouth as he devoured her. When she was about to come, he removed his mouth pressing his forehead against her thigh. Her thighs clenched at the loss of him, so close to what she needed.
As she opened her mouth to protest, he filled her with a finger, and she crumpled against the mattress.
“I was right, Granger. You taste so fucking good.” He murmured against her thigh.
Hermione grinded herself onto his finger, her core tightening painfully. She needed to come. Right when she was about to unravel, he would slow his pace, slow his lips, pull away. Somehow he had ended up being the one to torture her, despite his earlier promises.
“Please… Please, Malfoy.” She panted.
Malfoy slipped another finger deeply into her, hitting that spot of undoing, as he sucked on her clit hard. She came apart, shuddering with the most powerful orgasm she’d had.. Well maybe ever had. She trembled looking down at him as he pulled back, sucking his fingers into his mouth. His eyes were piercing blue. That unnaturally blue she had seen earlier.
“Your- your eyes.” She gasped.
Malfoy gripped the underside of her right knee and swung her over, flipping her onto her stomach. She gripped the dark green comforter, her knees now on the plush carpet, her body over the edge of the bed. She heard Malfoy unzip his pants. His hands gilded up her ass before he gripped her hips and she felt his lips traveling up her spine.
“Do you want me to fuck you, Granger?” He whispered in between her shoulder blades.
She trembled beneath him. “Yes.” All rational and reasoning leaving her mind in a puff of smoke.
She felt him grip her tighter as he positioned her in front of him. She felt the head of his cock push against her damp opening. She heard him groan softly. He teased only for a moment before he pushed himself into her hard. She cried at the feel of him stretching her; he was big. Possibly too big.
“Just breathe.” He commanded.
Her body shook, his cock slowly, painfully, sliding deeper into her.
She gripped the comforter, and forced breath in and out of her lungs.
“Good girl.” He growled as he now filled her to hilt.
He only gave her a moment to hold him fully, before he drew back, and slammed into her firmly. Again and again, His pace was torturously slow, but he pounded into her forcefully. She felt the waves of her next orgasm building again, impossibly fast.
“Fuck, Granger.” He growled, her cunt tightening around him.
She felt his control break, as his speed increased. He gripped her hips harder, as he pounded into her. Her chest ached as her core tightened painfully. Oh god, she felt like she was going to die.
“You going to come again for me, Granger?” He asked pulling out to the tip and push back into her.
“Yes.” She gasped.
He slammed into her relentlessly. “Come. Come, Granger.” He commanded, his voice low and gravely.
She screamed into the comforter, her release wrecking her body. Not giving her anytime to recover, he pulled her limp body up against him, lifting her further onto the bed. His hand came around to grip her jaw and throat, pressing her body down into the mattress with his own. His lips were on her neck, just below her ear, groaning into her skin. He pumped his cock into her in long, fast strokes,
“Fuck.” He groaned into her ear, his body clenching as he spilled his own release into her, his hand still on her throat.
Their bodies collapsed onto the bed. She felt the full weight of him on her back, their bodies heaving with exertion, slicked with sweat. She felt him roll off of her, pulling her with him onto their sides, pressing her back against his chest.
“Sleep now, Granger.” He whispered into her ear.
She felt the glimmer of her indignation at his command, but before she could snarl her reply she was indeed drifting off to the sweet darkness of sleep. She thought she felt his lips kissing her shoulder, but surely that was a dream.