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[Hermione Fanon Ships Fest] FIC: Switch - Chapter 14/17
Hermione Fanon Ships Fest 02
mionevillemods wrote in hermioneville
Title: SWITCH (Chapter 14/17)
Author: rzzmg
Characters: Hermione Granger x Draco Malfoy (main pairing), Ginny Weasley, Blaise Zabini, Ron Weasley
Genres: Drama, Romance, Angst
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1777 (this chapter)
Summary: Post-Hogwarts. Novel compliant, but discards Epilogue (EWE format). It was only supposed to be one night - a set-up with a hot guy at a fetish club in Muggle London for some mind-blowing, no-strings-attached sex where Hermione would play the submissive role. However, when her amazingly skilled and sensual partner, Draco Malfoy, kept sending her tickets and roses to return to the club to meet again and again, how could a single, sexually-experimental girl say 'no'? Hermione's about to learn the hard way that the sins of the flesh can prove to be too tempting for the body - and the heart - to resist.
Warnings: Very explicit sexual situations, alcohol consumption, profanity.
Disclaimer: I do not own “Harry Potter,” nor any of its characters, nor do I profit in any way from the use of said characters and situations in this writing.

Chapter 01 | Chapter 02 | Chapter 03 | Chapter 04 | Chapter 05 | Chapter 06 | Chapter 07 | Chapter 08 | Chapter 09 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17


Diagon Alley

London, England

November 29, 2003 – Saturday Afternoon

I left Flourish & Blotts with a solid month’s worth of reading material in hand, and headed back down the Alley towards The Leaky Cauldron to Floo home. As I rushed on my way, my attention partially diverted by the introductory message in the newest Advanced Potions publication by Libatius Borage, I literally bumped into someone standing in my path hard enough to send me back several steps and for me to drop everything in my arms.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” I profusely apologized, not realizing exactly whom I’d collided with, too concerned with my spilled books lying on the slushy cobblestone street. I scuttled to get them up and to assess the damage.

A familiar pale hand held one of my purchases out to me. I paused, mesmerized for a moment by those well-manicured fingers, and the tactile memory of them touching me had my body unexpectedly reacting. I swallowed my inappropriate feelings and took the book from him, careful not to touch in passing. “Thank you,” I murmured and regained my height, knees cracking like icicles in the cold weather.

There was no helping it - I’d have to look at him, wouldn’t I?

Gathering my courage, I glanced up… and was transported back in time to September, to a suite overlooking Hyde Park, and a pair of glimmering, silver eyes that watched me with such tenderness as we moved in gentle tandem towards the common goal of both giving and receiving pleasure… That was the night I’d really switched, wasn’t it? The fancy I’d been nursing for Draco since May had fully bloomed into love that fateful September evening. It had manifested itself when I’d placed my full trust in him – something I had never even given to Ron.

All breath was stolen from me and my bluster evaporated. In that moment, there was only him, looking at me with a longing so poignant, that it teetered on the edge of irrational. We didn’t speak, just stared with all of the yearning of star-crossed love. It took a cold breeze rushing through the Alley, forcing me to turn aside for the magic to break. “E-e-excuse me,” I brushed past, clutching my books to my chest for safety, as if they could ward away the hurt that even then was constricting my chest.

I got as far as Potage’s Cauldron Shop before Draco grabbed and pulled me between the very narrow opening separating it from the brick wall of The Leaky Cauldron, and bore down on me, determination marking every step and fueling the glint in his steely eyes. I backed up and held my purchases between us at all times, a symbolic separator. “What do you think you’re doing?” I hissed in shock and growing ire, valiantly making a last stand. “You’re engaged!”

“And you’re shagging the American,” he countered, his voice a growling displeasure.

I wasn’t anymore, but he didn’t need to know that. “Th-that’s none of your business!”

Great return-serve there, I know, but it was all I could think to say.

My back hit the far wall, and I was effectively trapped with only a small space to squeeze through to make good an escape. Draco’s arms shot out and caged me and he leaned his nose down to mine, refusing to let me look anywhere but at him. “Tell me, Granger, how much does your Muggle know about you?”

I huffed, clinging to righteous indignation for a shield. “If you’re referring to being a witch, nothing. We’d only started seeing each other, and the law is very specific about such things.”

His eyes dipped to the vee of my jumper and I knew he could spy a bit of cleavage from his angle. “That’s not what I mean.” His lips hovered over mine, buzzing them slightly as he spoke to me in a low, velvety-smooth tone that made things inside my womb flip about. “How much does he really know you? Does he know that you can get drenching wet simply by being softly stroked on the back of your knee, or that you moan low in your throat like an animal in heat when you’ve reached your best orgasm of the night?” His nose traveled feather-light over my cheek, and he turned his head so the sides of our faces were pressed together and his lips rested over my ear. “Have you twirled that naughty, talented tongue of yours around his prick and sucked him so deep that you blew his mind and made him lose all control? Has he licked between your thighs and told you that it’s the sweetest cream he’s ever tasted? Does he love working his cock into you and hearing those adorable whimpers you make? Has he undressed you a piece at a time, simply for the pleasure of watching your expression change? Does he know you like that - like I do, Hermione?”

“S-stop t-this,” I gasped at his provocative descriptions of our time together, closing my eyes against the rising need. He smelled the same as I remembered: an enticing blend of almond-scented soap, the black suede of his aftershave, and his body’s natural musk. My legs started shaking, and my heart pounded in my mouth. “It’s o-over between us.”

With a gliding roll of his hips, he rubbed his thick, covered erection against my belly and groaned against my neck with desire. Against my will, one of my hands reached out and gripped the fabric of his shirt over his left peck, and my hips rose to meet his, cradling him in the correct spot against my mons. He sighed with longing. “Granger…”

His lips pressed against my throat, once, twice, and then he was suckling and grinding against me. I tried to recall why this was such a bad idea. I may not be with Daniel anymore, but there was still Astoria in the picture… “We can’t do this,” I murmured, but even then, my damnable body had a mind of its own. My hand pulled him in tighter, and I met his forceful pelvic slide across my jeans with my own. “A-Astoria and you-”

“Tell me the truth, Hermione: could you fall in love with him?” he interrupted me, his voice tortured. His breath was wisps of white cloud on the chilled air as his mouth drifted over my jaw and chin, peppering small kisses. “Could you marry him even knowing he doesn’t know who you really are and that you want someone else this much?”

I bit my bottom lip until it bled trying to hold back my tears, but it was a useless endeavor. He’d unmade me again. “I could ask you the same,” I whispered, broken-hearted knowing he was going to do exactly that with a malicious, spiteful woman who didn’t deserve him.

A voice at the end of the narrow strip called down to us. “Oi, a’right down there?”

I peeked under Malfoy’s arm. “Patrolling Hit Wizard,” I sighed. They’d been a mainstay since the war ended assuring the Alley remained free of undesirables, especially those near the Knockturn. Draco tensed. He couldn’t afford to get into trouble with the law again, and he knew that what I said about what we were doing down here might very well land him in prison if I claimed harassment.

I pressed a hand over his arm, and he dropped it to his side and turned so I could wave off the man at the end of our tiny private space. “We were talking,” I explained in an even tone, and it technically wasn’t a lie. “We’re done now.”

The Hit Wizard looked between us, the red cloak of his office (in direct contrast to the green the Aurors wore) opened enough for me to see that he had his wand in hand, and was tapping it against a thigh in consideration. Finally, he motioned for us to come out. “Right, well, move along. The Alley here’s a family-oriented enterprise. We’ll not be havin’ anythin’ ta tarnish the reputation, yeah?”

It was clear he’d understood the situation and was giving us a pass and a warning. I nodded, wiped my tears away and unsteadily pressed past Malfoy, heading out of the small space, back out onto the street. “Sorry,” I contritely apologized to the officer, and he tipped his head in acceptance, but stayed to make sure we did as he required.

I didn’t look back at my ex-lover as I headed through the wall into The Leaky Cauldron, nor as I grabbed some Floo powder and stepped into the hearth, calling for home. I refused to see if Draco had followed me, afraid of my own response to his nearness, unable to trust my good judgment where he was concerned. As it stood, there were entirely too many empty rooms with beds above our heads in the pub-slash-inn.


Hermione Granger’s Flat

Camden, London, England

November 29, 2003 – Saturday Afternoon (seconds later)

I dropped everything the second I arrived home, stumbled towards the closest piece of furniture I could find – the sofa – fell back into it and worked my jeans and knickers off in a hurry. With shaking, desperate need, I shoved two fingers deep and hard into myself and began pumping them in and out to the memories of doing all of the things Draco had murmured in my ear. I also recalled the way he’d felt rubbing against me today and the scent of his rich, coffee-scented breath. I came so hard I screamed his name loud enough to scare Crooks under the bed.

I repeated the experience a second time an hour later, again in the shower before bed, and even woke up in the middle of the night and masturbated a fourth time (no screaming this time, so as not to wake my neighbors and to keep Crooks from deciding I’d finally lost my marbles and it was time to find a better-adjusted owner). I was insatiable, as if Malfoy had doused me in lust potion, but I knew better – this was all me and my enduring, obsessive feelings for him.

Like a glutton for punishment, I absently wondered if he’d gone to find Astoria after our run-in, and if he’d touch her with the same inflamed passion that I’d felt to try to alleviate this need.

I cried myself back to sleep.

To be continued...

Chapter 01 | Chapter 02 | Chapter 03 | Chapter 04 | Chapter 05 | Chapter 06 | Chapter 07 | Chapter 08 | Chapter 09 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17

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I don't know how much more angst my poor heart can take! I've been on tenterhooks for DAYS over this story. :)

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